by Alan Wild
Oliver passed Anthony a folder- a rather large one at that. He started the presentation by saying, "Inside this folder, you will find various emails from your wife along with replies from you. You will also find several emails from yourself to me. They are very graphic- describing all the ways that you were going to fuck my brains out. Oh, and there is also a flash drive with recordings of you fucking my brains out. It is obvious that you have demanded that I suck you and that you intend to fuck me senseless. It is clear on the recording that I am in distress". Oliver explained that Anthony had greatly underestimated him and his abilities as an investigator.
For a while, Anthony couldn't find his bearings. It was like somebody had smacked him out of the blue. Anthony asked him who did this for him, still assuming that Oliver could not possibly have pulled this off on his own. Flabbergasted, Anthony said that everything was password-protected, and Oliver was too stupid to figure out how to get out of a wet paper bag, let alone be a master hacker. Oliver looked at him and smiled. He opened his mouth to tell him how he figured it all out. Still, Anthony launched into another tirade about how Oliver did not even know multiplication to do something simple like "Leaving a fucking tip at a restaurant."
Oliver had enough, and it was now time to land his final blow. He explained that he was aware of the company's finances, that is, how much money was in the bank. Folding his hands, Oliver looked at Anthony. "You have until 5:00 PM tonight to come up with an acceptable severance package", he said. Oliver hoped that the sudden threat would cause Anthony to rethink his termination. He was still holding out hope that somewhere in his heart, Anthony loved him.
Anthony turned a shade of red that Oliver has never witnessed before. It was like the blood vessels in his face were close to rupturing. The man, entangled in his web of deceit, is floundering, and Oliver did not even have to point it out for him. To rub it in, however, Oliver ventured to explain anyway. "I know your wife is funding your new venture," he said. "it would be a shame if she received the information in this file." The lawyer told Oliver that what he was doing was illegal, it was called extortion, and the police would be contacted.
Oliver was excited to share that the police should be called for the sexual assault. "I included both sets of financials, and police would love to look and forward them to the IRS." After a few minutes of silence, Anthony said, "six months' salary. That is the most I can do. There is no way in hell you are ever working for this company again. If you can show your face around this town, then chalk that up to my pity."
Oliver stood up, gathered his bag, and informed Anthony that the packet was his to review at his leisure. On his way-out, Oliver said, "Oh, wait, I almost forgot. You have until 5:00 PM to come up with a better severance package. One that I could consider acceptable". Oliver explained that it better be close to millions of dollars instead of a measly six months' salary. He did reiterate that he also enclosed the conflicting double set of books that saved him a shit load of money on taxes.
Oliver turned back just before his exit and said, "You know how to reach me. It is the same number where you would text all the interesting things you would do to me." Oliver looked over to the attractive lawyer and told him it was a pleasure, and he walked out of that office with his head held high.
Two hours later, Anthony called. He still spoke with a resolute air of superiority. "Fucking cut the shit and get to the point, Anthony." Having Oliver speak to Anthony with force is something Anthony was not used to or liked. He always seemed disgusted when those he deemed inferior challenged him or refused to take his shit.
In five minutes, Oliver was exhausted by the verbal abuse. So, he decided to lay out the facts. "I have a new best friend, and her name is Emily. She lives in New York. Now, I could visit her, or I could pack up what is left of my life and move out of California. That way, you will never see me again. Now, sweetheart, what is your final offer?"
They agreed on 14.5 million dollars after taxes. Oliver took his time while he had his attention. "Anthony, I want you to know that I do love you. I thought that we had a future together. You hurt me by leading me on. By thinking of me as stupid, you ended up hurting yourself even more. I wish you the best. Oh, one more thing, Anthony. Please make sure you sing my praises whenever anyone asks about me or calls for a recommendation. I will do the same for you; after all, it is only professional".
Oliver was able to renegotiate his non-compete contract terms as well. He reduced the time from 10 years down to 2 years. It was a win for Oliver. He had enough money to do whatever he wanted in life without financial burden. His priority was to take his pride and leave California. Oliver could return to pack his apartment when he landed in a place that held his interest.
Chapter 1
Oliver Thaddeus
After already spending countless days wasted, looking for the perfect commercial property that will house his private investigation agency, he inhaled deeply. Exhausted and emotionally drained after experiencing thwarted expectations, Oliver padded to the refrigerator for an ice-cold, refreshing beer. His home was cool from the two air conditioning units buzzing away. The scent of lemon cleaner and bleach filled his nose, reminding him the housekeeper was scheduled today. With each step, he removed an item of clothing, his shoes, shirt, and pants and landed on the floor.
Draining half a bottle of amber brew in one swift swig, he slipped into the softest, loose-fitting jogging shorts before retrieving the bags of market ingredients. The plan to experiment on several mouthwatering recipes made the thought of another night alone almost bearable. With groceries in the desired location, Oliver retrieved the key to his mailbox. He was expecting a check for his last closed case.
Making his way across the road, he observed his neighbor in his driveway. Standing 6 feet tall, with the body of a gymnast, wearing faded blue jean shorts, a form-fitting tee shirt the color of tumultuous gray skies, his eyes closed behind his black-rimmed glasses. He was breathing rapidly, pacing, and running his hands through his hair. Once Oliver reached the man, his tears fell in a devastating emotional release. Feeling concerned for the neighbor, he tried to make eye contact. He had harbored a distant crush for this man, but he had remained elusive from the first day Oliver moved in.
Oliver introduced himself, "Hey there, I'm Oliver. I live across the street. Is there anything I can help with?" He waited for a response, and when nothing came, he reached out and gently placed his hand on the other's arm and attempted eye contact.
Struggling to breathe, with beads of sweat appearing on his forehead, Oliver recognized the symptoms as a panic attack. Guiding the man in breathing exercises, he learned from his therapist, "Take a slow deep breath in through your nose, hold for the count of three and exhale." After a few minutes, he attempted eye contact again. "Hey, there you are.".
Unexpectedly, the man wrapped his arms around Oliver in a constricting embrace. Oliver's pulse quickened as his excitement grew. Having only exchanged simple greetings in the past, this hug came as a surprise. Feeling a spark of exhilaration and concern, Oliver became lost in his thoughts.
"I can't remember the last time I had physical contact like this. This embrace feels amazing, and the guy has a wonderfully distinctive scent of soap and minty fresh chewing gum."
With heat building in his collar, and climbing up into his cheeks, Oliver was at risk of holding the man too long.
Pulling away from his neighbor, he grew concerned because this man in front of him appeared to be terrified. Slowly, he seemed to regain his composure. Oliver took the opportunity to gather information and gain insight. "My name is Oliver. What is your name?" Anguished and struggling to maintain control of his breathing, he said, "I'm Noah. I have been in Florida for the last three weeks. I moved my mom to an assisted living facility after she fell and broke her hip." With a nod of sympathetic understanding, Oliver said, "Both of my parents have passed, but I experienced something similar with my mom.
Oliver asked, "Noah, what is going on? I can see you are u
pset. How can I help?" He observed his breathing speeding up. He began to hyperventilate again. His dark brown hair was standing on end in a tasseled frenzy from him running his hands through it. He pointed to his house, his body shaking with tremors, and said, "There is blood everywhere." Oliver's eyes widened, feeling trouble brewing in his bones, he said: "Stay here, I am going take a look around."
Oliver approached the front door and froze. The coppery smell of blood was overpowering. The door was open halfway. Once on the front porch, all he could see was blood splattered on the walls, pooled on the floor, and seeping from the carpet. Looking closer, he discovered that body parts were scattered across the entrance and living room. The situation was terrible. There was no reason for him to look further. Joining Noah in the driveway, he asked, "Did you call the police?" Noah shook his head. "So, what happened here?" Oliver asked. "I have no idea, I just got home, and I didn't even make it inside." Oliver took out his phone and dialed 911.
The police arrived in full force. There were so many police cars that they had to shut the street down. After the first detective arrived and questioned them, Oliver informed them that Noah needed to get away from the area before he had another breakdown. He explained that he was Noah's neighbor, and he was taking him home with him. Anyone with questions was welcome to visit them there.
A gathering of news crews at the end of their block caught Oliver's attention. His priority was to protect Noah. He seemed so broken; Oliver took it upon himself to care for him. He put on a kettle of water for tea and sat him in the most comfortable chair he had, making sure it was away from the front window. He served Noah his cup of tea, and just as he passed it to him, Oliver had a police detective at his door. Opening the door and welcoming him in, Oliver explained that he was the one that called 911. He quickly went over the timeline of events, as he knew he would have to do several times from that moment forward. "Noah was in shock, and I brought him home with me," he told the detective.
Oliver led the way to his family room, where Noah was sitting. The detective asked Noah what happened, and he began to explain the situation from his perspective. "I used the app on my phone to schedule an Uber. I was dropped off, and I made my way up the drive. While trying to open the door, I felt something pushing against it. I could not figure out what it was, so I pushed the door harder, and that is when I saw the blood, and I freaked out". The officer asked if Noah knew any of the people in his home. The look on Noah's face was that of pure terror.
Noah asked, "So, there's more than one dead person in my house?" His statement was more of a question, but Oliver could tell that the detective had taken it as a statement. To smooth the situation over, Oliver explained that Noah was obviously in shock and incapable of recording a coherent statement right now.
The detective grew agitated as he asked Oliver if he was Noah's attorney. Disregarding the fact, he was speaking to an officer of the law, Oliver said the first thing that came to mind, "I am only trying to help. If you continue your questioning in his state, anything that is said will be dismissed. That shit is on you." The detective left in a huff. They had four more detectives take turns at questioning them.
It was close to 10:00 PM and the last detective of the night came in and informed Noah that he would not be able to enter his home for a while. Once again, Noah had that same look on his face, which preceded a panic attack. Oliver stepped in and asked the detective, "Can he grab some stuff from his house? An extra set of clothes and a toothbrush?". Without taking a second to consider, the detective refused.
As a private investigator, Oliver took over, questioning the detective. "May I have a word with you in the kitchen?" Making sure Noah couldn't hear; Oliver asked him, "What's going on?" He showed the detective his private investigator credentials and handed him a business card, in an attempt to build trust.
"I would appreciate whatever information you can tell me," said Oliver, desperately trying to help his new friend. He introduced himself as Detective Ross, Homicide, and handed Oliver his business card. He said, "We are processing the home, and this is going to take a very long time." He paused and lowered his voice. "This is one of the worst crime scenes I have ever laid my eyes on. They are still processing bodies and trying to piece them together".
The look on Oliver's face must have shown his shock, or it could have been his foul mouth when he said, "Fuck!" So far, they had been able to locate and piece together four bodies. He was sure that there were more. Oliver knew Noah had just returned from his three-week trip because he had heard the same story several times from repeated questioning.
Oliver asserted that Noah had not entered his home and, instead, had dropped his luggage on the front porch. He asked the detective if Noah could have his luggage once they could verify his alibi. Speaking as an actual investigator himself, Oliver said he could show him video proof that Noah did not enter his home with his luggage.
Oliver pulled up his security feeds and selected the front yard footage, bringing it to full screen on his iPad. He played the feed for the detective to prove that Noah did not enter his home. His feed had shown the Uber car pull up at 3:46 PM, after which Noah got out and unloaded his luggage. He had made two trips from the curb to the front porch. Noah opened his door at 3:52 PM; it would not open for him, so he pushed the door harder to force it open. Noah stood there without moving. Something inside of him must have clicked, and you could watch the feed as he spun out of control into a panic attack.
While watching the video, Oliver's heart went out to Noah. He stopped the feed and asked Detective Ross if Noah could have his luggage. He nodded, "But we will return in the morning and review your video recordings to capture any activity that happened in or around Noah's house." He paused, "On the bright side, they verified Noah's activities and locations for the last three weeks. You need to be available for further questioning".
He asked where they will be able to find Noah when they need him. He had Noah's contact information. However, due to the enormously horrific crime scene, they need to know where they could physically locate Noah. They still had to verify that he was not involved in the crime.
Oliver led Detective Ross back over to the family room and asked Noah if he had family or friends in the area that he could stay with. Detective Ross informed Noah he could retrieve his luggage, but his house would remain closed off to him until fully processed. Noah said, "I don't have any family or friends left in Denver."
Noah just looked devastated; he said, "I could go stay at that new hotel off of Tower Road." He started to fumble with his phone, trying to make a reservation. Before Oliver's brain could stop his mouth, he told Noah “No, you will stay here, I have extra bedrooms.” He informed Detective Ross that he would make sure Noah remains available for questioning, and they could stop by anytime they needed. He asked the detective if he would mind staying for a moment while Oliver retrieved Noah's luggage.
Not wanting to waste any more of the DPD time, Oliver ran over and grabbed Noah's belongings and got back as quickly as he could. The moment after Detective Ross left, Oliver sat next to Noah. He took a deep breath, and as usual, the first unfiltered thing came flying out of his mouth. "Noah, why would you want to stay at a hotel that charges for parking, even though it's located in the middle of nowhere?" Blowing out a breath of frustration, Oliver explained that he did not know what they charge for their rooms, but he could not get past the parking fee. Even though Oliver has money, there are still things that he refuses to pay for, parking fees at an overpriced hotel surrounded by wide open spaces is one.
Clenching his jaw and lowering his head with a grimace, he said, "I am embarrassed that I have no friends or family left to help me out. I feel bad; I don't want to take advantage of your kindness". Noah continued, "And I don't have anywhere else to go". Oliver found himself staring into Noah's eyes. They were beautiful behind his black-rimmed glasses. He had blue eyes, the color of the Colorado sky on a sunny clear day. Sitting with Noah, taking in everything about him without
the chaos going on around them, was euphoric. It made Oliver realize that Noah was incredibly beautiful. He was at least 6 feet tall. Oliver was 6'4,", and Noah seemed a little shorter. His body is just as beautiful as his eyes, and the man had fair skin with a touch of sun. “It was the body of a dancer. Lord have mercy," Oliver thought, as he realized that he was lost in his thoughts. His stomach was filled with butterflies. He quickly regained his composure and realized that Noah was waiting to hear what Oliver wanted to say.
"How did you find yourself in Colorado if you don't have family or friends here?" Noah explained that he happened to be a Colorado native, and his family moved to Florida once his mom retired. He had stayed back to care for his grandmother. They all abandoned him.
Oliver asked about his friends. "I don't ever leave the house to make friends. I go to the grocery store only when it is necessary. Otherwise, I have everything delivered to my doorstep. I do go to the gym, but I keep my head down and avoid eye contact."
Oliver felt a deep sadness growing for Noah, who is all alone and caught in the middle of a criminal investigation. He asked him about his profession. Noah said, "I work from home as a graphic designer and web developer. I also do social media marketing." Based on their interactions, Oliver was beginning to realize that Noah was what they call 'Reclusive introvert' – possibly one beyond redemption.
He was sure there had to be further reasons for Noah to be introverted, but Oliver decided that they had enough talking for the night. The circumstances were stressful, and pushing a traumatized individual to open up, was a very wrong tactic.
Even Oliver was tired, and he was sure that Noah was exhausted after traveling from Florida, and finding his home turned into a grizzly crime scene. He placed his hand on Noah's knee and said, "We should get some rest. We will have a very hectic day tomorrow, and it is going to take every ounce of energy to deal with more police asking intrusive questions". After Oliver moved his hand from Noah's knee, he realized that Noah was back in a frozen state.
