Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Blood Red Storm ❯ Bloody Tokens and not so Idle Chat ( Chapter 6 )

Hello all! Please read to the very bottom!

 

Bloody Tokens and Not So Idle Chat

 

“Honestly, if you shift around like that, people will think you're up to something.” Rory smiled, shaking her head as Mark stopped fidgeting and put his hands together on the table in front of him.

 

“Sorry,” he was proud he kept his face from exploding into a blush as the woman laughed and shook her dark hair off her shoulders.

 

His colleague's warned him not to have anything to do with her, that she was ruthless and only interested in him because of the case he was working on. He had kept the information of already taking her bribes out of the details he gave them. Mark had thought about Rory since she had left him with Tatou's body, her business card grasped tightly in his fingers. More information was found out and he had to see her. Even if she was only wanted his findings surrounding the late general's death, he would have her attention for as long as he was permitted. Asking her to meet him at the small diner down from his apartment seemed the best, most inconspicuous, place to leak extremely confidential facts about a now famous murder.

 

“No worries. Now,” Rory stopped talking to give her order to the waitress and for him to do the same before turning her attention back to him. “What do you have for me today, Detective Howell?”

 

“Just Mark, please,” he smiled as much as his nerves allowed him and sipped his tea.

 

“Only if you stop with the Ms. Lochlan rubbish.”

 

Her big, toothy smile made him feel light-headed. I am in way over my head here. “All right,” Mark cleared his throat. “I found out something that you may or may not find interesting.” He did, but he wasn't a reporter. When her big green eyes coaxed him to go on he said, “That coin in Tatou's mouth wasn't currency. It was a token for entrance to the Worthington Zoo.”

 

Rory had wanted to know if he had perhaps found the whereabouts of the owner of the shabby apartment Andre's body had been found in, something that none of the tenants could tell her, or who had lived there before disappearing. She also was curious if this meeting would yield her information on a possible new victim, as everyone was positive this was the beginning of a serial killer. However, all thoughts left her mind as she focused on what her cute informant just divulged. Worthington had been destroyed, nothing worth trying to rebuild. Aside from clearing away debris to reach victims, nothing had been touched. Thousands of the zoo's golden tokens littered the area surrounding and ground zero of the explosion. Someone had wanted to make a big statement, and their meaning wasn't lost to her.

 

“Vengeance,” Rory said, barely keeping the giddiness out of her voice. This was great!

 

“Seems like it,” Mark nodded, knowing where her thoughts were going. “And if more bodies turn up, bodies that were highly involved with the Worthington Tragedy…”

 

“We have a vigilante in Pearl,” Rory finished.

 

“That really was all I had for you, for now.” Mark tossed money on the table, paying for the both of them. “Thank you for coming all the way here.”

 

“Not at all,” Rory said, standing when he did. “This is a big piece of information, and I'm more than happy you chose to share it with me.” She grabbed her wallet from her back pocket to give him his pay when he put his hand on hers, stopping her from pulling out the one hundred the information was worth.

 

“This can be a freebie,” Mark said, smiling lightly.

 

Long after she left, Rory smiled thinking about the detective.

 

* * * * *

 

Feeling excitement for the first time inside his new home, Calen oversaw the workers moving things into the room his father had designated as his office. He had one at Ortonse's work building, but his father informed him he would be working hard for him on a few projects and would probably feel more comfortable with a more personal office. Calen had to admit, the furniture and equipment they were bringing in was making him look forward to his job.

 

Solid oak made up his heavy desk and shelves, a sleek leather chair and a couch were brought in next, and finally the boxes full of electronics were brought in on dollies. Calen gratefully took their offered help in moving the furniture around, but tipped them highly and sent them away afterward. He would much rather set up his gadgets himself. He did bring his own computer, but Ortonse insisted on buying him new things for his job. An envelope was attached to the top box, inside was a short note.

 

Cal,

 

I hope everything is to your liking. With you in mind, I had only the very best ordered. Welcome officially to the team. Have fun playing.

 

Dad

 

Clicking on his stereo, Calen found a rock station before getting to work on putting everything in order. Setting up his computer took no time at all. Ortonse was really trying to butter him up. The sleek system, and everything else now occupying his office, was the best money could obtain. Calen was sure the computer was not available to the public.

 

Hours went by and Calen still had piles of work to be done. Already stacks of paper littered his desk and notes were stuck on any clear surface. Ortonse had wanted a complete rewrite of security and new folders and locations for his most important files. He had given him his personal password and a deadline. He had a day to move everything to their designated places. By midnight Ortonse would have a new password. Calen had a feeling that he would be paying dearly, regardless of being his son, if something went wrong. He never looked too closely at the files, but knew they were probably not legal documents he was handling. He would be glad when this was finished.

 

A smile and relieved sigh escaped him and he stretched in his chair. Finished and with a few hours to spare, Calen logged off of Mecca Corps's head computer. Everything was done and no problems had arisen, just as he had suspected. Calen didn't know whether or not to be too offended at his father's hardly masked threats of a job not well done.

 

To Hell with him. He knew I was good and should have had faith in me. Calen yawned. Perhaps some leftovers were in the kitchen. Dinner had been four hours ago.

 

Calen had just finished cutting into his first bite of reheated chicken cordon bleu when movement caught his eye. Looking up, he found Kit walking into the breakfast nook, taking a seat across from him.

 

“Good evening, Calen,” Kit said with a pleasant smile.

 

Calen grunted, his stomach demanding another bite of his club salad before he could speak. He forgot that he hadn't eaten anything except for a bagel when the workers had been bustling about in his office. Kit only chuckled as he wolfed half of his plate down. Finally slowing enough to multi-task as he ate, he noticed he had forgotten to get himself a drink. A goblet was set down before him, deep red liquid splashing into it.

 

Calen watched as Kit poured a generous amount of wine for him before returning to his seat with the bottle and his own glass. His black eyes squinted as he took a sip, rolling the vintage around in his mouth before swallowing. He smiled as Calen looked at his own glass, swirling the wine as he debated drinking it so close to retiring for the night.

 

“It went well with dinner,” he nodded toward his plate.

 

“Thanks,” Calen offered for politeness and took a tiny sip.

 

“Ortonse wasn't sure you'd be able to redo his systems in the amount of time he set,” he said, smirking as he set his glass down. “I'm glad I was right when I told him he underestimates you and your potential.”

 

Calen smiled as he took his dishes to the sink. “Well, at least I have one of the old men from head backing me up.” He didn't mean to sound so bitter, but this always became an issue. Because of his age he was never taken seriously in business. Time and time again he had to prove himself.

 

“Old man?” Kit's wide eyes looked at him like he was crazy.

 

“Well okay, aside from you.” Calen kept his back turned, feeling the intensity of the man's gaze.

 

Kit laughed and shook his head, coming up to lean on the counter beside him. “I'm flattered you say that. Please be a guest of honor at my forty-second birthday party in a few months.”

 

His sarcasm was noticeable and Calen laughed. It was a rare occurrence when Kit stopped being his father's stuffy assistant. He didn't know whether to be scared or not. Turning he took the man in subtly. Kit looked good for his age, boyish and fit like a man in his late twenties or early thirties. But, Calen supposed, that was the mystery of Asian men. They were walking fountains of youth. Their eyes met and Calen quickly finished cleaning up.

 

“Good night then,” Calen said and brushed past him.

 

He didn't wait for a reply and was thankful Kit did not pursue more conversation. It was late, and he didn't know if he could keep calm in the older man's presence. A shiver ran up his spine remembering his deep eyes. As pleasant as he was, Calen reminded himself that Kit was as bad as, if not worse than, his father. He would have to stay on guard and keep his distance without causing suspicion, especially since it was Thursday and he still had every intention of going to the address Gale O'Kirk had given him.

 

Hey peeps! Just wanted you all to know that the remaining story is at my website: www.gamblewithfate.com along with other goodies. Please come by!