“You were here that night?”
“No, but Billy’s my friend, well, work friend, and we game online together every night.”
“Oh, yeah, us too! Man, it’s been a while. What’s his online name again?”
He chuckles. “Nighthawk38. His corny ass thought it was cool when he first told me.”
I smile. “What do you guys play?”
“World of Wanderers.”
“Nice. Any others?”
“Nah, just that one. I gotta get back in.” He shuffles away, breaking into a jog as he nears the front door.
Thank you, Calvin.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nighthawk38
When I get home, Maggie and Andy are in bed, and I plug in the new headset I just bought and key in my new, prepaid credit card for online gaming. I used the last of my paycheck from the week on the headset and card on the way home, and now the video game, hoping we can scrape by on nothing until the next pay at double the amount to make up for it.
Maybe I can return the headset after this.
I log onto the game and navigate to the friend’s icon at the top and tap it. Then I enter Nighthawk38 into the blank field, but before I tap “ok,” I stop.
I’m under an anonymous username right now. I need to change it to something he’ll accept the request from.
Katie? No, it could be any Katie.
Maybe if I use her last name.
But even then, he left the Yellow Dip because she approached him there.
Calvin. He’s the one he wants to play with.
Maybe he’ll think Calvin updated his system or changed his username.
It’s my best bet.
He thought Nighthawk38 was corny, and Billy knew it, so his name would be something simple, maybe?
Calvin2.0.
I change my username and then tap the friend’s icon, type in his username, and click “ok.”
If they play every night, he should accept it soon, and I need to be here when he does so I don’t lose the chance. I cross my legs and lean forward, trying to get comfortable.
A notification comes up.
Nighthawk38 friend request accepted. Connect now.
I click the button, and he’s already typing something.
Nighthawk38: New name, who dis?
Do I pretend I’m Calvin? No. I’ll lose his trust. It has to be smart. Something he won’t shut down. He seemed to have an affinity for Katie, that they used to be close, or he wouldn’t have spoken to us at all. He tried to warn me.
Calvin2.0: It’s Katie’s friend from the parking lot. It’s happening to me. I need your help.
I wait, but no bubbles pop up. I could have already lost him. I need his help, but what does he need? Safety? I can’t promise him that.
Calvin 2.0: Do you want revenge?
Nighthawk38: No one can win at their game.
It’s as if he knows I’m trying to blackmail them. Maybe he did too. Maybe he tried to report them to the police, and it didn’t work. But revenge got him talking. He wants it.
Calvin 2.0: I don’t want to turn them in. I want to turn them on each other.
I didn’t realize it until I typed it, but it’s my way out.
Something is going on between Cathrine and Orrick, and if I can use it to threaten her that I’ll take the information to Orrick, if it’s big enough, she’ll make sure I can leave unscathed to protect herself.
Nighthawk38: How?
Now he’s interested.
Calvin 2.0: I need something on Casey.
Nighhawk38: Where we met. Across the street. Go now.
Nighthawk38 has logged off.
I find Billy in a dark alleyway, and he whistles to get my attention. I hesitate before following him into the darkness, stopping beneath a fire escape.
“You realize this could go horribly wrong,” he says in his high-pitched voice.
“I’m ready to do whatever is necessary to get out. I can’t stand by when people are murdered, drugs are sold, and my whole life is threatened. I’m already in danger. I need to get out.”
“Okay, okay.” He checks both ends of the alley before speaking again. “I’m telling you this, and I’m leaving. Like Katie.”
“So, you know she went to Vancouver?”
He looks at me dead in the eyes. “She didn’t go to Vancouver. She told them that, but she’s in hiding.”
It makes sense. How and why John would have suddenly proposed, and she’d decide to move that day has eluded me. “She wanted to help you. She risked a lot leaving that note.”
It wasn’t enough, but maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe she really did her best for me.
“How do you know? Are you in touch? Is she okay?”
“Can’t talk about it.” He glances over her shoulder. “Don’t have much time.”
“What do you know?”
“I know you have access to something I could never figure out. Why Orrick Locke’s father, Lawrence, left his son the company when it should have gone equally to all board members, including his son.”
“How do I figure that out, and how does it help me?”
“Cathrine’s been furious since Orrick took ownership of the company because his dad was the head of the snake, but Cathrine was the neck. She’d turn it however she wanted it to go. Now she’s without that power, and she wants it back.”
“How does this help me? It’s Cathrine I want information on.”
“You could blackmail Cathrine, or you could offer her information she’d never get any other way.”
Help Cathrine gain even more power? She could be worse than Orrick himself for all I know.
“What information?”
“I was Mathison’s assistant, and there were rumblings when I first started that Cathrine was blindsided when Orrick became the CEO. A lot of people said it didn’t make sense, why she would think the son Lawrence adored wouldn’t have the family business passed down to him, and it kind of got forgotten—by everyone but Cathrine, except…” He looks both ways again. “Mathison was surprised too. He was sure the ownership shares were supposed to be divided equally between Orrick and Cathrine, with Orrick as the official CEO, but Cathrine guiding Orrick with all her years of experience. I think she had a side deal with Mathison when she still thought she’d be equal owner, that if he voted with her on any issues the board needed to accept or pass on, she’d give him more power. That’s how sure she was she’d be getting it. When she didn’t, she never spoke to Lawrence again, and he passed away a few years later.”
“But it’s all just a rumor.”
“Mathison seemed to think Orrick forged the signatures on a new document that gave him all the power, angry that his father would think he’d need the help of Cathrine. That because no one ever confronted or questioned Lawrence on his decision; he never knew what Orrick had done to hold the most power.”
“So, the only proof would be in finding the old document. The original way Lawrence had intended it to be…”
“And using it as leverage on Cathrine to get out.”
“What about getting even? I thought that’s why you were in?”
He shakes his head. “There’s no getting even with this company. It’s never been done before, and you’re not in the position to do it now. Buy yourself a way out and get far away from here. It’s the only way.”
“Why didn’t you or Katie do this?”
He shakes his head. “Katie never had access to anything like that, and I was like you—clearance for the board members only—not Orrick’s documents.”
“So how am I supposed to find it if you couldn’t?”
“I had no reason to. Giving Cathrine more power made no sense to me, and it was just a rumor. I was already ruined. You can gain clearance to his documents with his assistant’s password.”
I frown. “How am I supposed to get that, and why would he keep a copy of the original? That’s ridiculous.”
“He wouldn’t have. Lawrence would. His f
iles are only accessible at that highest clearance level, and if they’re anywhere, it would have gone by the legal department. Even if they later received the final copy from Orrick, the original would be in their system.”
“But what if Orrick found them and deleted them? Covered his tracks?”
“They couldn’t be permanently deleted from the system. It was created with a backup where they keep all the clients’ files. Videos.”
“So, they keep everything…” All the times Cathrine promised the client they didn’t before they signed the contract. Why am I surprised? They have footage from Tackman’s, then. My stomach drops, knowing I lied to him.
“Everything.”
“Okay, but to get the password… I barely know his assistant. I can’t get close enough to her.”
“It’s not hers you need, whoever she is. It’s his old assistant.”
“Tom something or other?”
“Lawrence’s original assistant has access. It’s the reason you’re in the best position to retrieve the information.”
“Who’s that?”
“Fern Bishop.”
My breath catches in my throat. The proof to give Cathrine the power she needs could have been under her nose the whole time?
“Wouldn’t she have checked?”
“Nothing’s guaranteed here. I’m giving you your best chance, because after tonight, I’m gone, and you’re on your own.”
I’ve always been on my own. But this time, that doesn’t feel true.
They’ve been helping me the best they could—the best I’ve let them.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He nods and sidesteps down the alley the other way, leaving me in the dark, with a small light of hope within.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fern
When I said goodbye to Maggie and Andy this morning, I told my sister we’d talk when I got home, and through the whole day I dreaded being honest with her.
Will she relapse? Will the honesty be too much to take? Will she blame things on me? Can I really put my anger aside? Can I trust her? Has she changed?
Five in the afternoon rolls around, and I stay at my desk, filing. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to get into the waiting room, to use Fern’s computer, but she almost never leaves it alone. Only when she’s going over things with Cathrine every night at five.
She’s usually with her for the time it takes to finish a drink, but she’s been quicker and slower, depending on the day. I know by five o’clock, they’ll both be in that room, which is perfect.
I walk down the hallway, past the women’s bathroom, into the men’s, and check that no one’s there before locking it behind me. I grab a roll of toilet paper and toss it in the garbage bin. I grab another straight from the roll in the stall and use one of Cathrine’s lighters I swiped to set it on fire. I toss it in the bin with the other and grab it, stepping up on the toilet seat.
The bin grows ever warmer in my hands, and I raise it high above my head, surrounding the fire detector. The flames burn bright, and my hands feel like they’re touching a mug of boiling water as the fire alarm goes off.
I’ve got less than thirty seconds now.
I toss the remnants of the toilet paper rolls into the toilet bowl and flush them down. No trace of the start of a real fire will be found here. I’m going for a system issue. I rinse the bin out and put it back, unlocking the room and filing out of the men’s washroom toward the stairs into the small crowds where everyone’s whispering on their way to the stairwell, the designated exit during fire drills.
No one seems to notice me, as usual, and it’s the first time it’s paid off.
I stand by my desk and peer down the hallway as Cathrine exits the office with her briefcase in hand, and Fern, with her purse tucked under her arm, follows behind her, toward the stairwell.
“I don’t have time for a fire,” Cathrine says, her protests fading down the hallway as Fern pushes her through, and I stride down the hallway and slip in through the glass door before it closes.
The camera from the hallway might have seen me come in, but with no cameras in the waiting room or office, I’ll just need a cover for why I came in here in case the video needs to be checked.
To check on you, Cathrine. Make sure you got out okay. And then I saw the picture of the cats on your desk, Fern, and I had to grab it.
I sit on Fern’s warm seat behind the computer screen and set her framed cat picture in my lap. The screen asks for a password as I shake the mouse.
She logged out before she left.
Panic sets in, vibrating through my body into shakes.
I’ve underestimated her ability to protect the company’s assets.
At least the video footage outside in the hallway will corroborate my story.
I stand from behind the desk, push the button to open the glass door and walk toward it on shaky legs as Cathrine strides back in.
“Josephine?” She cranes her neck back, stopping a few feet shy of Fern’s desk. “What are you doing in here?”
“I came to make sure you both were out, and I saw this picture,” I hold up the frame, “and you know how much Fern loves them. It’s an original. I wanted to make sure it didn’t get destroyed.”
She frowns at me, like she’s considering whether to believe me, but I can’t give her the chance to doubt.
“Ms. Locke, why are you back in here? We need to go.” I usher her back toward the door. “See, this is why I came in. I knew even a fire couldn’t pry you away from your work.”
She walks out the door, and it closes behind us as we walk down the hallway. “You know just as well as I do, this is a drill. There’s no fire. There’s never been a fire here. And everyone should have this work ethic. Come hell or fire or whatever, everyone should be working until it’s a real threat.”
I enter the stairwell with her, mumbling something about being cautious as Fern climbs back up the steps.
“Where did you go?” she asks Cathrine and frowns at me.
“I was trying to get my purse. My cigarettes are in there, and if we’re outside, I might as well use the smoke break.”
“And you?” Fern asks me.
I hand her the picture frame, and she stares at it blankly before a tiny grin greets her lips. She doesn’t look back at me, but instead turns around, and we descend the stairs together, clickety clack, all the way down until we’re outside.
“Cathrine!” Mathison calls to her, and she parts ways from us.
“You know what this Saturday is, don’t you?” Fern looks up at me.
“The fiftieth anniversary party.” That came up fast.
The big celebration everyone’s been looking forward to. I don’t do well at social gatherings, but it was even a big deal to me before everything happened. Orrick and Iris Locke will host the party at their home on Saturday, and everyone from the company is invited.
She nods. “I’ve given this company fifty years of my life.” She rests her hand on her hip and tucks the picture frame back in her purse. “It might be time for me to exit gracefully, but…”
“But?”
“I can’t bear to leave Cathrine this way.”
“What way?”
“So far from her dreams.” And the key to reaching those dreams of hers could be on your computer. I wish I could tell her so she could get it for me, but then I’d have no leverage. “A lot has changed for women since I started here, and a lot has stayed the same, but I haven’t.” She presses her lips together and nods. “I think I’m done.”
“Wow,” I huff.
“That’s between you and me. I won’t be telling anyone until I’m good and ready to give my two weeks’ notice, but, mind you, it’ll come sooner than later. I think after the party, I’ll tell Cathrine. It’s time for me to enjoy what’s left of my life with the only ones who truly love me.” She gives me a smirk. “My cats.” As she walks off in Cathrine’s direction before I can say anything, I still haven’t figure
d her out, but more importantly, I don’t know she knows what I was doing up there either.
Before the party. I have to get the information from Fern’s computer in two days.
I’ll have to find the gun in two days too.
Everything has to be cleared up for my escape. Everything including what’s left of my life with the only ones who truly love me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
So Close
If things are going to be different this time with Maggie, we have to do something different. I’m only in control of myself, my thoughts, my behaviours. I repeat that in my head as I walk down the hallway to my apartment.
I have to bring back the part of me that can be vulnerable with her again. Something we haven’t had since we were children.
I open the door, and all is still. Kitchen. Couch empty.
“Hellooo?”
No answer.
I set my purse on the kitchen table and saunter to the bedroom. On the way, I poke my head into the bathroom. Bedroom empty too. I parked right beside her car.
Could they be out for a walk? Somewhere else in the building?
Laundry. It’s laundry day.
Despite my nervous energy surrounding the talk, now that she isn’t here when I’m ready, I just want to get it over with. I walk back to the front door, checking to make sure there’s no note on the table, and grab my key from my purse, locking the door behind me. I turn left toward the elevator and the laundry room on our floor.
A door opens behind me, and Don steps out of his apartment with his pup on a leash. I nod hello as jittery nerves envelop me, and I can’t make it to the laundry room fast enough. I leave them behind at the elevator and step into the laundry room, where a few machines clunk and whoosh, echoing through the empty room.
I walk back out, and Don glances at me as the elevator door grumbles open.
“You haven’t seen my sister and nephew, have you?”
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