Night Owl (The Complete Serial)

by M. C. Cerny

  Casey bumps my shoulder whispering, “Everything alright?”

  This is the most I have seen her happy since getting her voice back, her happiness is as important to me as is her safety and I struggle with what to tell her. My jaw clenches and the lie slips easily from my lips. “Yeah,” I say rubbing the back of my neck.

  Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t say anything else.

  “I just need to take this call, I’ll be right back.” Pushing the chair away from the table I inform Tucker, my newly appointed station manager, George, the producer, and the crew to continue meeting. I make sure the door shuts before slipping down the hall to my office closing the door behind me. Now I’m feeling paranoid and I haven’t done anything wrong.

  Uneasily, I wait for his response when he answers the phone, “Bennett.”

  “Eli, what’s going on?” He doesn’t bother with small talk jumping right into our current problem. Pacing the space in my office, I am ready to wear the carpet out.

  “There’s something bothering me about all of this.” He’s not the only one bothered and this fucking mystery has me dancing to a puppet masters’ tune.

  “No kidding.”

  “I mean, what’s the motive to bringing down a communications company that, no offense grosses a pretty penny, but isn’t buying up third world countries?” He doesn’t mean it to be insulting; Eli seems wired to be excruciatingly blunt so I take his candor for what it is. It’s safe to say I do alright monetarily speaking.

  “None taken, just let me know when your brother works out that radio amplifier and we’ll talk about my station’s reach.” Eli laughs and we both know none of this makes a bit of sense.

  I wouldn’t mind getting his brother, Jacob Reed’s ear on those radio antennas I know he’s been working on. The Reed Corporation has its hands in a few areas of my interest and when life settles down I’ll be giving him a call to explore my options.

  “Let’s talk suspects… the out of work gamer dude from her building.” We proceed to review our checklist starting at the top. Yeah, Devin the boy wonder, it’s surprising he made it out of his mother’s basement and survived into adulthood. In my experience, guys like him either make a career out of their nerdish tendencies, or they build underground tunnels in their backyard.

  I pick up a media file on my desk glancing over it letting Eli know what I learned so far, “He’s moved back with family out of state.”

  “I checked into that.” My stomach clenches because I’m certain Eli knows more than I do, it’s what I pay him for, but I also anticipate not liking what he has to say next. “He’s living down in south Philly.”

  A steady beat of pain pounds in my head thinking about this kid’s proximity to us. “Son of a bitch. So much for leaving the basement, I had high hopes he was at least gone geographically.” Now I had to worry about him hanging around town with a massive crush on my girlfriend.

  “There’s a Halo tournament at the convention center coming up. It might be temporary, he’s staying with a friend couch surfing.”

  “Better than living next door to us I guess.” The view from my office windows spans the city. The convention center is in view, and not as relieving as I had hoped it would be.

  “Your cousin, the creepy fuck?” My cousin was going to be a pain in the ass to the bitter end, but I didn’t give him credit for masterminding the attempted ruin of our family holdings. He needed me to bail his ass out and I would rather pay him off and know what he was doing then be surprised.

  “I bought out his company shares so he could pay off his gambling debts.” I shuffled the file in front on me, the phone between my ear and shoulder. I was going to have to ask Michelle to check on this account and wrote myself a note on the sticky pad.

  “Yeah, again, unless you paid Frankie the Shark up in Chicago, I don’t think he’s done fucking with you.” Eli had me there. I couldn’t control everything, and the knowledge that I couldn’t burned. Opening my desk, my hand shifts papers around for the bottle of antacid tablets but I find the bag of strawberry candies instead. I grab one, pop it in my mouth and think about the gorgeous girl down the hall.

  “God damn it. Are you saying we are back to square one?” Pushing back from the desk, I spin in my chair to look out the window. Philadelphia is my home, my city, but right now all I can think about is packing up and escaping.

  “I think the simplest answer is the obvious one sitting right in front of our faces. It’s someone in the building, intimate with the company comings and goings. It has to be.”

  “I just can’t fathom why. Have you run a list of all the employees?” The sun struck a building in the distance, the reflected light blinding, reminding me how insignificant I was in all of this.

  A knock at the door interrupts our call.

  “Hold on a sec. Come in.” Michelle strides in grinning big.

  “Welcome back boss.” Leaning over my desk, she drops the day’s correspondence and advertising air time contracts for review. A packet from the FCC sits on top and I take them waving her off. “We need to review your meetings for the week and Jerry from accounting has quarterly reviews to discuss along with the monthly ratings report.”

  I’m waving her off feeling annoyance. “Not right now, Michelle. I’m on a call. I’ll review these and get back to you.” She nods and leaves. The door closes with a soft snick behind her as I resume talking to Eli.

  “I hacked into your HR system files and sent them over to my Priest.” I didn’t know if that was code for something else, with Eli, anything was possible.

  “Is he going to perform an exorcism on them?”

  A rare chuckle escapes Eli, “That’s funny. I’ll tell Nick you said that. Nah, he’s just the most patient of the group to cross reference everything piece by piece. He is anal retentive to detail so I am hopeful to have something by the end of the week for us to review. My other guys are tied up out west right now, so I’ll let you know.”

  Reed Securities has a farther reach than I realize, Eli Bennett must have offices on the west coast. An idea flits in my mind. “We have a promotional radio awards show in LA coming up. I was thinking of canceling, but it’s next to impossible with the endorsements and music producers. I have to be there.”

  “You’ll need security out there, especially if this person gets any bolder. I’ll arrange something and get you their names.”

  “Bodyguards?” I ask.

  “Eyes, ears and protection.” He reassures me. We still don’t have a motive for this and I’m frustrated as each day goes by with nothing.

  “Thanks.” Deflated and with no new answers, the call ends and I am no more or less in a better position than I was a month ago. I know Eli is worth every penny I spend. It’s nothing compared to knowing I will be able to sleep at night next to Casey secure in her safety.

  Heading back to the meeting, Casey is laughing at one of Benny’s inappropriate jokes and my thoughts sober. I can’t have her worrying going into this job. Her health and safety have become my primary concern and telling her that we are no closer to uncovering the stalker will not help anything.

  She turns to me with her eyes sparkling and I’m torn. “Everything okay?” She takes my hand and pulls me closer to her. It’s not exactly a public display of affection like hauling her into my lap might be, but it’s enough for now.

  I reach out and squeeze her shoulder. “Yeah, fine, just some crap from the advertising department,” and the lie comes easy.

  My mind spins a hundred different scenarios, one of them needing her on air to lure this fucker out and have Eli ready to take care of it. The other is to pack our bags for a vacation far from here. I do not want her in danger, but the danger might be in this office for all I know waiting for the shoe to drop. Slipping my phone out, I text Eli asking him what needs to make it happen without Casey ever knowing.

  “Babe, have you seen my hot pink heels?” Casey calls out and I know it’s a matter of seconds before she enters the kitchen and c
atches me red handed with her courier letter burning my fingers. Thank god they hadn’t sent an email. I don’t know what possessed her to apply for a job on the west coast when I set one up for her here. Her resume had been floating around right after the FCC incident unknown to me. The interview with the morning show went well. The plan is for her to start working this week. Yet, Miss Independent insists on keeping her options open by applying cross country to see what happens.

  Yeah, I don’t think so.

  “Uh, maybe in the closet sweetheart?” Looking around frantically, I stuff the letter in the trash jumping back from it. Leaning against the opposite counter as she pokes her head out of the bedroom asking, “You okay, James?” I see a naked shoulder around the corner and I swallow, my mouth watering for her already.

  “Hmm? Fine, babe.” My hands itch, clenching my fists with guilt from touching the letter. Tucker tells me the LA station might make a play for Casey, and I’m pissed he knows more about her job offers than I do. I didn’t want to give credence to her moving across the country to escape this, my mistake.

  “Maybe you should come and help me find them?” Casey moves into the hallway wearing one of the hot pink negligée sets I purchased for her. A cotton candy sweet edged in gold good enough to eat adorns her curves like a boutique confection. Her lush breasts spill out over the top while her pink nipples peak through the lace like candy dots on paper begging to be sucked off until they pop like sugar melting in my mouth. I am at odds between ravaging her in the moment and getting rid of this damn letter that is likely to combust into flames from the garbage disposal.

  Hands and fingers crossed behind my back as I look at her with as much innocence as I can muster. It’s possible my conscious considers remorse over placing it in there to begin with, but my honor is negligible at this point.

  “I’ll be right there beautiful.” Smiling she dances back into the bedroom and I rip the refrigerator door open grabbing the first thing I find. Left over spaghetti and sauce from our dinner the other night stares back at me accusingly from its paper carton container. My stomach pangs at the sacrifice I am about to commit with to die for homemade Italian food wasting away.

  “May God forgive for me for this meal I am about to trash.” Making a sign of the cross, I haven’t been a practicing Catholic in some decades, I still know enough not to piss off the spirit of an Italian cook somewhere in my genes.

  “James!”

  “I’m coming honey.” With gritted teeth, I salute the container of food pouring the sauce and al dente noodles over the letter confident that the Holy Spirit would punish my libido into a limp noodle for this. “Please, Jesus, forgive me for my sins.” There has to be someone on my side in this, bright orange-red colors stain the white paper envelope, damming spots that rivaled Lady Mac Beth form from the tomatoes and oils of the sauce into an unreadable heap of paper.

  The offer from the hard rock station in LA is out of the question. I am not letting her go. This scandal as it were may have opened up a career door for her, but I want her here in Philadelphia where we can try to make things work and have a chance at a relationship. I waited eighteen months, and I refuse to wait longer and definitely not clear across the country with her running scared. She might hate me when she finds out, but I hope that will happen after she finds her place here on the morning show. It will be easier to commit mail fraud now and ask forgiveness later, right? It seems I will be asking for a lot of forgiveness in the weeks to come and pray the five carat diamond ring burning a hole in my tie chest is sufficient groveling.

  37

  Casey

  Crisp white chardonnay that tastes like green apples bubbles in my glass on our way to LAX. Flying business class means enjoying glasses of free wine, Wi-Fi, and soft grey blankets. It’s impressive, over the top, and quite the new experience for me being snuggled in my roomy seat. The best I had done on my own was to fly coach on one of those pay for every add-on possible flights to Florida a few years back. Cramped seats, screaming babies, and spilt coffee that cost ten bucks was not worth all the sunshine the southern state had to offer. It actually rained the entire time, but that is a memory better left in the past. I thought James was splurging when he presented his phone for scanning by the ticketing agent, but apparently this is normal for him, and I am not sure how that makes me feel.

  On the air officially for two weeks now with Benny and Natalie is opening my mind to the possibility of staying in Philadelphia. James wanted to book a separate flight from everyone else, but I wanted to be with my new co-workers. Hence, his obnoxious upgrade to business class to keep me to himself. My hesitation sprung from feelings that people assume I got this job lying down. The rumors continue so I decide to face them head on. That means flying to LA and helping host this radio award show. James tells me that we have a security briefing when we land with a firm he’s hired. My head hurts from the stress so I only half listen when he tells me it’s Eli, a guy they call the Priest and a young guy whose name I can’t recall. I might actually be more nervous about my dress fitting for the show than I am about the stalker. It’s ridiculous but that’s where my mind goes.

  Our schedule is packed. Tonight is the show; we have appearances over the weekend along with doing the Monday morning show live out here before we fly back and resume the show Tuesday in Philly. I can’t think beyond the meeting I have scheduled with the executives from the LA station. I never received my packet mailed from them, but when I didn’t respond they called the office and Michelle gave me the call before we left Philly. Meeting in person will be easier and my schedule has been modified while James has his own meetings. I’ll have to slip out of the hotel so I plan to use a shopping excursion with Natalie as my cover. Guilt weighs me down because I don’t want to lie to James, but I’m still doing it.

  I push wispy strands of my hair back and fix my earrings. Flashy rubies glitter hanging down while my red dress hugs each curve. I should be tired but a nap on the plane helped as did the massage, mani/pedi, and hair/makeup artist who help me get ready.

  I see James in the mirror behind me in our suite. “If I didn’t know better I might think you hired all the help because I truly am fit for radio and not the stage.”

  “Now you’re being ridiculous.” He hugs me from behind and delivers a sweet kiss into my dark cloud of upswept hair.

  “I should be nervous, but I’m not.” I sink into his embrace enjoying the quiet moments we have interspersed between the busyness.

  “That’s good. You’re going to be amazing.”

  Twisting in his arms I hug him back wrapping myself around his tuxedo clad body. “Thank you.” Our eyes clash and warmth flows into me.

  “For what?”

  “For believing in me.”

  “Casey, I always knew you could do this, doesn’t matter if it’s on the air or on a stage. You connect with the audience and that’s what I heard in you the first time you subbed in for the traffic report.”

  “Yeah, nothing says success like an update on an overturned truck on the Walt Whitman Bridge.” I sway out of James’ arms but he tugs my hand pulling me back.

  “Do you know how many calls I got from listeners asking who you were?” This nugget of information stops me.

  “Really? Probably to complain.” Dismissing James fails and he guides me in the direction of the bar inside our room pouring me a glass wine. He breathes in like he is fortifying himself for this debate and hands me a glass of red.

  “Some, yes, but only because the regular DJ was part of their ingrained routine. Someone will always complain.” He holds up his finger tapping the air. “But, there were quite a few that commanded your dry humor and wit. You were refreshing and your voice captivating.”

  “But I didn’t get that job.” We clink glasses toasting.

  “Hmm. No, I couldn’t fire a DJ like that just to hire you, but I did have an opening on the night shift which made offering you a starting position easier for the board to accept. The listeners started
hounding the board and even with my cousin owning a portion of shares at the time, I still got my way.”

  “I guess it worked out.” Sipping the wine I let the calm come over me. James had bought those shares back from his cousin which I knew about before. It continues to feel like I got the job because of him, but having listener support softened the blow a fraction.

  “It always works out. I make sure of that.” He plants a soft kiss on my forehead and we make our way to the limo that will drive us to the show.

  38

  James

  The lights on the stage are bright, blindingly so blocking out the faces of the audience. The excitement is palatable and the auditorium is overheated by the jam packed attendance. The first several rows are listener VIP tickets and the flashing lights of cameras taking pictures look like sparkle from backstage.

  I’m watching Casey host the show from the wings making the audience laugh. Her energy is captivating making jokes on the cuff and smiling. I’m awed by her ability to adapt and feeling jealous that I have to go on later to present a lifetime achievement award to a pop diva who continues to refuse our invitation to visit the station in Philly. I wonder if the audience will boo me off stage and ask for Casey to come back and present. As far as work functions go, this should have been fun for us. Instead, I feel cramping worry while the security team I hired is in place and we stay close by watching and waiting. Casey has never been safer with all eyes on her, but I still can’t shake that something is going to happen.

  She presents the award for best new male artist and then introduces the next performance by the newcomers named, Bullethole Strippers. She’s all smiles and even earns a compliment on her beauty from the lead singer whose flirty teeth I’d like to pop out of his mouth. He’s joining us on Monday at the studio for the show and I think about how I’m going to get my jealously in check by then. I consider a sex marathon with Casey the night before, but I realize how over the top that is. She would catch on before the first orgasm and then I would be the one at her mercy... The idea has merit when I see her exiting the stage in my direction. Gorgeous full hips and rounded heavy breasts showcased in a red dress like a goddess saunter toward me. I know how lucky I am and I don’t want to waste more time with this stalker.