AN: Hi everyone! Sincere apologies for shelving this story for so long but my muse has been wanting to finish a story in the Bonanza fandom and now that that's done, hopefully she'll be more cooperative with me. Thank you to all my readers who have been waiting so patiently for me to update this.
This installment introduces some new players and you'll get to know a little more about Whitney that Jeannie has yet to see.
Tanith
Chapter 3
George Holden looked out of his office window. Being on the top floor certainly had its perks. He could see the entire city lit up like a reflection of the stars in the sky. Project Evergreen, yes, he thought. He could already see it, right there, nestled in the heart of Mission District. Of course, right now there was still a group of semi-derelict buildings that stood in the way of his dreams. Not for long. Soon, he'll turn those dreams into goals. And those goals will pave the way to funding his retirement. As long as the boy doesn't screw things up, he thought bitterly.
"I have the requisition papers ready for you," Whitney Holden interrupted his father's thoughts as he entered the office without knocking.
"Leave it on my desk," George instructed bluntly before turning away from the window. "How was dinner?"
Whitney shrugged. "Would've been nice had you joined us and got to know my future wife."
"Don't you take that tone with me. You know damn well how important Evergreen is to me. To us. Sometimes I worry where your head is, boy," George snapped. "I've worked hard to get the ball rolling in our court. The least you could do is show some interest!
"Show some interest?" Whitney scoffed. "I've worked hard on this too. Look, dad, I'm tired. I got a long day tomorrow."
"Making bouquets?" George mocked.
Whitney ignored his father's sarcastic remark. "Can you at least show up tomorrow night? It would mean a lot to both Jeannie and me."
George sighed irritably. "I can't. You know I have deadlines."
The disappointment on Whitney's face didn't faze his father who started to peruse through the documents that his son had placed on his desk.
"Go home and get some rest," George said dismissively. "I don't want you to be late for the board meeting in the morning. Mr. Crowley doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Whitney didn't bother to wish his father goodnight as he turned around and walked away.
As he walked to his car, Whitney noticed a shadow fall into step behind him. A reflection of his stalker in the passenger window of his car alerted him of that danger was near. Wheeling around he swung his arm at his stalker but he had clearly underestimated him. The hooded man ducked under his swing, reached out and grabbed the lapels of his sports jacket. Before Whitney could retaliate, he was shoved against his car hard. The passenger window shattered into a million fragments that littered the road.
"Now you listen up rich boy and listen good. I want my money and I want it tomorrow night, six o'clock at the usual place!" the hooded man threatened in a low voice.
"You'll get it! Just give me a couple more days," Whitney begged.
"Tomorrow night. Six O'Clock at the pier," the man repeated. He released his hold on the younger man then just to make sure he got his point across, he shot his fist into the man's stomach. "Don't be late."
Listening to the hooded man's footsteps fading away, Whitney dropped to the ground, gasping for air. He waited for the pain to subside then he pushed himself to his feet. Running his fingers through his wavy blonde hair, he cursed out loud and kicked the front tyre of his car. Why did things always have to blow up in his face? Maybe his father was right. He was a screw-up and now he was going to have to disappoint Jeannie. No, he told himself. He wasn't going to let her down. He stared down at the tiny bits of broken glass, frustrated with himself. He'll have to deal with it in the morning. No, he just remembered he had the board meeting to go to. "Damn it!" There simply wasn't any other way around it. He would have to cancel dinner arrangements. Jeannie will understand, he reassured himself. As he climbed into his car, he began to formulate an excuse for the following evening. Gunning the engine, he floored the accelerator and drove home.
The next morning, Steve was up earlier than usual much to Mike's astonishment. The reason behind the young man's strange behaviour was revealed a short drive later.
"And here I thought Steve was abducted by aliens!" Mike chuckled mischievously as Steve parked the Galaxie just outside the laundromat.
"Oh ha ha, very funny, Mike," Steve said sarcastically.
"Hurry up, wise-guy!" Mike swatted Steve's arm as he exited the car.
Steve fished out a receipt from the inside pocket of his jacket then walked into the laundromat and greeted the business owner, Dave.
"My wife said you owe her big time! That jacket of yours should be put out of its misery!" Dave, a slight man of Chinese descent was in his mid-thirties and had known Steve for quite some time. His wife, Kim, had gone to high school with Steve and now the couple owned a laundromat business together. For some extra cash, Kim was a deft hand at mending shirts, jackets and pants. It was a service that Steve took advantage of given the amount of missing buttons and torn sleeves his clothing suffered while on duty.
Steve paid Dave what was due and added a few dollars on top. The couple were expecting their second child and could use all the financial help they could get. "How's business going?" Steve asked casually as he admired the work Kim had done on his jacket.
"Not too bad, Steve, but I really wish these developers would stop trying to get me and all the other businesses to sell. And I'm not just talkin' about the business either. They're planning on knocking down the entire block by the sounds of it. We could lose our apartment too. I just don't get it," Dave vented.
"I don't either but you could always say no, right? I mean they can't just force you to sell out," said Steve.
Dave sighed. "I suppose not, but it's a little more complicated than that. Anyway, I better let you get going. I can see Mike there in the car waving at me."
Steve rolled his eyes. "That's probably his way of saying we are now running late for breakfast. Thanks, Dave and give my regards to Kim and the little one okay?"
The young Inspector left the laundromat, leaving Dave to his thoughts. The phone rang, bringing the Oriental man out of his reverie. He picked up the receiver and frowned when he recognized the voice. "I told you, we're not interested in selling. Now, please don't call here again. If your boss has a problem with accepting my answer, he can contact me when I have the time to discuss this further!" Slamming the receiver down in its cradle, Dave shook his head. This was getting ridiculous, he thought. With so much going on in his life, he didn't need the added and unnecessary pressure that the Holdens were putting on him. What made him even more uneasy was the fact that they weren't the ones contacting him. They had obviously hired someone to intimidate them into selling their business and home but Dave was standing by his decision. There was no way he was going to back down just so that these ruthless people could get what they want when they wanted. The world just didn't work that way. Dave hoped he'd heard the last of this proposal but he had a sinking feeling he'd be hearing back from someone again soon.
