Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Marvel. I do own two cats though… who battle like it's the last fight of the century-daily.
Trigger: Eye twitching will happen. Along with yelling and hair pulling. Ah… for you, the reader. Not in this chapter. And least I hope not…
Warning: I apologize. I can't remember what all happened here. Yikes.
Navigating the Curve
By Juliette Lyst
Constant Cravings
Power… it was what everyone wanted. It wasn't for just anyone to have, only a few. It was better this way…
Main Universe Alchemex 10PM
A lone figure was seated quietly at the only desk in the darkened room. They had been sitting here for quite a while… almost motionless. A finger twitched maybe… or they straightened up in the chair for a time, but that was it. As the lone clock on the wall continued to tick, they began to seem more 'alive' and aware of where they were.
A soft snort was heard, and then they pushed back from the desk. As they walked towards the door, a slight twitch to their hips, they grabbed a purse that had been hanging on the doorknob and left the room.
The door was firmly pulled to a close behind them.
"What a ridiculous day," a feminine voice grumbled. She wasn't happy at all, judging by her tone. She moved uncaringly through the dark building, unconcerned about what or who might be hanging around. As she approached her car, she became a bit more alert.
Managing to get into her vehicle without a problem, she turned on the engine and headed home. "I have a problem," she stated, thinking out loud. "But no real idea for a solution." It was frustrating for her to have to deal with this. "I can't keep him locked up in the basement forever."
After she said that, a faint grin crossed her lips. "Or… maybe I can," Shifting a little in her seat, she sniffed lightly. "I mean, he's there so often anyway… would anyone notice?"
As far as she was concerned, no one had seen hide nor hair of Norman, but there were no murmurs of concern-not yet. As time went on, she was certain that there would be a lot of questions… but she hoped to have enough time to answer them.
While she sat at a red light, she had a call come in. Tapping on the touchscreen, she answered the call. "Yes?" she purred, even though she easily recognized the number.
"Miss Allen," the male voice began. "I called to give you an update." "Ah, go ahead Sean."
"I've been evaluating how Mister Osborn was feeling since he came down here."
"Yes…" she queried.
"He seems a bit… confused. He was asking why he was in our control room."
"What did you tell him?" she asked. One thing she knew about Norman? He needed to be treated with kid gloves. Kid gloves that happened to have metal cuffs around them.
"Just that he felt unwell and so we had him down there for observation."
That answer suited her just fine, but she knew Norman. The man was likely already suspicious. Most people went to an emergency room when they took ill. They didn't disappear underground to some hidden facility in the basement of their office building. "Did he ask anything else?"
"Well…" the scientist hesitated. "We aren't exactly sure."
Blonde brows pinched together rightly. "What do you mean you aren't sure?" she asked, an edge in her voice. "It's not a difficult question to answer."
"No, I understand that ma'am," Sean replied, sounded offended. "What I mean is that he was asking questions, but before we were able to say anything, he was answering them. This is a very strange situation."
"What's so odd about that?" she asked. "People speak out loud all the time. I do too, when I'm trying to sound out something."
"He wasn't," the man replied, bluntly. "He was asking questions to himself and addressing himself by name. It was like he was having a conversation with himself."
Liz swallowed at that. "He was sent down there for that same problem."
"Yes. We've been trying to come up with a treatment that suppresses his mental deficits, but we can't seem to get a combination that's working.
"There are different medications to treat him, aren't there?"
"There are," he agreed. "What we've encountered is that his body is adapting so quickly that the medication doesn't have time to help. He's metabolizing it too quickly."
"Is there anything else that can be done?" she asked. "Maybe we can up the dosages?"
"I doubt that'll help, ma'am," Sean managed, incredulous. Did she know what she was asking?
"Have you tried it?" she asked, squeezing the handle of her steering wheel. The light had just turned green. Putting her foot on the gas, she sighed quietly.
"Yes," he spoke simply. He cleared his throat and the sound of rustling papers could be heard.
Worrying her bottom lip, Liz waited to hear more.
"We have raised the dosages of three of the medications-nearly to the highest safe limit. He just keeps adjusting and then burning through the medication."
"We can just cut him off the serum regimen, right?" The thought was a painful one. Perfecting the Goblin Virus had been a goal of hers for quite some time.
"It… it won't help any," the scientist replied with a gulp. "What?" she asked. "Why would you say that?"
"On his third night here," the man began, "He escaped his bonds and found the containers along with the dosing schedule."
"No…" Liz mutterd, worried about what the scientist was going to tell her.
"I'm not sure how he did this, ma'am," he continued. "But Mister Osborn downed the entire vial we had for him."
"Downed?" she asked. "You mean with a needle?"
"No…" the scientist cleared his throat again. "He drank it, along with a second vial before we were able to get to him."
"… What does that mean?"
"It means…" he explained. "That Mister Osborn has had two full doses of the enhanced Goblin Virus and is experiencing heightened levels of psychosis. And we're not sure what we can do to help him. There's no antidote."
This was something Liz knew well. "This… this is not good."
"I agree, ma'am," Sean concurred. "We have a serious problem on our hands."
Feeling nervous, Liz cleared her throat. "Is… Is it dangerous for Norman?" she asked, fidgeting a bit where she sat.
He was quiet for a moment. "We're… not sure." "No adverse effect?" she questioned.
"None that we can see. Not yet."
"Alright. Keep me informed. I have to go." After she spoke, she ended the call. For the rest of her drive, Liz turned the consequences of Norman's actions over in her head.
While the sitting head of Alchemex, that all hinged on Norman. If something happened to him… Swallowing hard, she kept her eyes focused forward. These were all things that would need to be dealt with…
In the future.
For right now, she had more pressing matters. After pulling into her driveway, the blonde checked her reflection in the rearview mirror before she got out of the car. Rubbing the back of her neck, she mounted the stairs and let herself in the front door.
After closing the door, she pressed herself against it, sighing heavily. The last thing she needed was something to damage the reputation of the company…
Pursing her lips after a moment, she headed to her bedroom. She paused momentarily, checking in on Normie, noticing her son was asleep. Good . she thought, her lips curving in satisfaction.
All this stuff with the company… she continued in thought, disrobing and climbing into the shower. It's going to hurt Normie if it goes too far. She was holding the spot for him, but were she honest with herself, she didn't like the idea of having to hand over the 'reins' to him when he was mature enough.
There was a lot of prestige and power associated with the company. Being at the helm afforded her a lot of perks.
Such as tonight. She almost bounced to the mirror after drying herself off. Wrapping a towel around her hair, she leaned over the bathroom counter, checking her features in the smooth surface. Should I tonight… Blue eyes narrowed in thought. She owned him an explanation.
Three dates.
Three of them… all being cancelled last minute.
"Would he even care?" she murmured to no one in particular. To be fair, her relationship with Erik wasn't on any solid footing at all. Their dates were sporadic at best, with her seriously considering the possibility of just breaking off whatever fragile ties she might have with him.
Satisfied with what she saw in the mirror, she headed into her room. A half hour later, she was blow drying her hair, a selection of different outfits thrown on the bed. "Should I call him?" she asked herself. Then, she frowned. "… It doesn't matter," she muttered. "Tonight is not about him at all."
Picking out which outfit was easier than she expected, as was choosing what makeup she would wear.
The jeans she wore clung to her in a tasteful way, along with the white tank top she had on. A black blazer and low heels completed her look. Setting a pair of shades in her hair, she grabbed her purse and hurried back to the front door. Again, she briefly peeked in her son's room and kept going.
The drive to the club she was heading to was a lot less stressful than her trip home. She thought-regularly-that she should take the time to have a security detail, but always dismissed it as unimportant. Wanting to keep a low profile meant not having a group of burly men following her around.
I probably should be careful with the car… she thought with a sigh. There was something to be said about having nice things… People always wanted to take 'nice things' away if someone else had them.
She figured parking a few blocks over should be enough.
No need to have a rowdy drunkard damage her car because of their own negligence.
After parking, she slid out the driver's side, quickly set the alarm and was on her way. Hands in her pockets, she quietly walked across the street and got in line. The club she frequented had a nice atmosphere-with music that didn't threaten to blow out her eardrums. It wasn't too popular-but drew more of an affluent crowd. It meant thankfully, that the lines weren't that long.
Shades in place, she had the widest grin after walking in the front doors. Right after entering, guests were offered complimentary cocktails, and she eagerly took one. As she made her way near the section of the club where she could hear music, she nearly bumped into someone else.
"Oh!" she laughed lightly, dipping her head. "Sorry about that." As she walked away though, she felt a hand on her arm. Turning back around, she glanced up, her mouth dropping open. "Erik?" she asked. "What are you doing here?" She lifted her shades to confirm.
"Hah!" he replied. "Nice to see you too, Elizabeth."
The blonde had the grace to blush. "Umm…"
"How are you tonight?" he asked, a slight smile in place.
Glancing up into his familiar features, Liz lightly shrugged. Erik wasn't bad to look at all. Still… something about him didn't feel like it 'fit' with her. "I'm alright," her words were a bit clipped.
"Just getting here?" he asked, wanting to keep up the conversation. He found her very interesting. She was a bit of an enigma-somehow always able to keep right under his radar. The blonde hadn't divulged her full name to him. No amount of asking had succeeded in that regard.
"Sure, am," she replied, dropping the shades back into place. "Here to relax for the night."
"How was work?" he asked, casually. He really had so many other things he wanted to ask her, but held back to be on the safe side. "It was work," she responded, shrugging. "Nothing much special about it."
"Really?" he asked. "I thought there was always some excitement in the corporate world."
Exhaling forcefully through her nose, she pursed her lips. How am I supposed to respond to that? Liz doubted he had any idea where she worked… but the question lingered nevertheless. "I… guess?" she asked in answer.
"Don't be like that," he spoke in a lower voice. Swallowing, she stayed silent then.
"I know it has to be stressful for you," he continued. "To the extent you have to just get out." When he noticed she wasn't budging, he changed his angle. "So, you've cancelled our last date,"
"Yeah?" she asked, taking a swallow from her cocktail. The drink was neatly chilled and tasted sweet on her tongue. It was really good, so she knew she should limit how many of them she had. "I explained why-"
"I know," he interjected. "You said it was due to work." She nodded in agreement.
"Yet, now you're saying that work is just 'work?'"
The blonde struggled to restrain herself from displaying much emotion at all. He's baiting me… she realized, belatedly. Now, she was certain that it was a bad idea to speak to him at all.
"Well," he allowed a half grin to slip into place. "Why not now?" "… What are you even talking about?" she asked.
"You're here, and so am I." Erik replied.
"So…?"
"We can have that missed date," he supplied. "Tonight."
"Umm…" She wondered just how she'd talk her way out of this one. "Is that a problem?"
Sighing, Liz opted for honesty with him. Because time spent with him was never that entertaining at all. And their current conversation was downright boring . "Look," she started, lifting her shades and fixing him with a piercing blue-eyed stare. "It's my fault for not being more upfront, but…" she watched as his expression turned crestfallen. "I'm not interested."
"But-"
"At all," she gestured with one hand, shaking her head a little. "Do you understand? We won't be having a date to make up for the last one-nor will we have a date at any foreseeable point in the future."
Erik swallowed hard. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"
"No," she stated, bluntly. Not waiting for him to say anything more, she left him behind in favor of another spot in the club. Sliding her shades back in place, she sat at one of the tables near the dance floor.
Now, her mood had soured. All he had to do was leave me be! she mentally grumbled. Though she never went onto the dance floor, she found the music to be good.
2AM
Yawning widely, Liz staggered in through the front door. It hadn't been her intention to drink as much as she had. After her encounter with Erik, she wanted to just forget and numb herself.
Unfortunately, she had far too much.
So, now she was going need to pick up her car in the morning. No way could she drive at all.
She sniffed, closing, and locking the door, hearing the cab she took speeding off.
It wasn't any easier to get to her room than it had been to get through her front door. She managed, though barely. Kicking off her shoes, she pulling off the blazer, she decided just to throw herself down in bed. She had an early morning.
11AM
"… is a disgrace! Sales cannot be going down like this!" Liz barked. They were discussing sales profits… and things weren't looking good for some of the smaller brands attached to the company.
"Unfortunately, ma'am," the woman responded, flinching just a little as Liz leaned forward in her seat, elbows on the conference table.
The blonde folded her hands, one brow arched high over her dark shades.
"T-These are the latest figures from Brew Hive. They do show a downward trend in interest." After speaking, she handed over a stack of papers to her boss.
Liz frowned, beginning to carefully read through the pages… slowly. "Do we have another company that produces a product similar to this one?"
"Ah… N-No," the brunette answered. She flinched again when her boss looked straight at her again.
"I see," Liz murmured, glancing through the pages, a frown in place. "That's a shame."
"Ma'am?" the woman asked.
Disgust visible on her face, Liz stopped reading the papers and set them in front of her. "We'll need to close them down."
It was obvious that no everyone agreed with such an extreme move. Different people in the meeting turned to her, displeasure evident on their features.
"Ma'am," one of the men spoke. "With all respect due, might that be hasty?"
Now, Liz focused her attention on him. "The brand is still fairly new, isn't it?"
"It was," she replied. "Three years ago. There's no excuse for this," she gestured to the papers. Though she hadn't read it all, she saw more than enough. "They have had nothing at all for three years but a decline in sales. No one is interested-not even remotely-in their products."
Swallowing, he straightened his tie and listened.
"Alchemex is on par with excellence," she added. "Yet for three years, we have had a leech attached to our backs."
Some flinched at the term, but none of them had valid arguments.
"What would you suggest, hmm? Give them another three to six years… to suck even more money out of Alchemex?"
"No, ma'am." he replied, contrite.
Respecting the man for not trying to press his point, she looked around the conference room. "Is there anyone else that has some suggestions to offer?"
Tentatively, a second man raised his hand.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Have we looked at the top?" he asked. As he spoke, he glanced to the dark-haired man who had spoken earlier.
"The top?" Liz asked.
"Yes," he nodded, some of his neatly groomed brown curls bouncing. "We have looked at this brand as a whole, ignoring that it has a head and neck attached."
"… You have my attention." She seemed to be relaxing just a bit, not as much on the offense.
He swallowed and pressed forwards. "Has the leadership changed or been the same?"
Wondering the same thing then, Liz turned her attention to the woman who had given the presentation. "Cora, I have the same question."
"I'll check," she said, picking up the stack of papers and searching through them quickly.
"The reason I mention that ma'am-" he continued, grabbing Liz's attention again. "Is because the problem might not be due to the staff in the least, but those at the helm."
"I agree," she murmured.
There were surprised glances exchanged around the conference room.
"Right here," Cora spoke. "It seems that this brand has had the same leadership the entire time its operated."
"Really?" Liz asked. "Has there been any change on the lower end, such as with management?"
The woman slowly shook her head. "No. None at all. And," she looked up. "It seems that the higher-ups enjoy giving themselves perks."
"Perks?" Liz asked. "What sort of perks?"
Pulling out one of the pages, she placed it on the table in front of Liz. "Right here is a listing of their salaries. However, it looks like there was a small increase in their income every year."
"… I see."
"Also," Cora continued. "The numbers don't quite fit when it comes to that income listing."
"What do you mean?"
"There's some deficits listed in their paperwork that doesn't account for a sizeable sum. At least one hundred thousand is unaccounted for."
"That's… not a little mistake," Liz remarked. "Have we sent anyone there to investigate?"
"No," the brunette replied. The person who crunched the numbers mentioned in their notes the need for a 'potential audit' of the official books."
"I have to agree," the blonde commented. "And the staffers… are they receiving an upgrade in pay?"
"No," Cora replied, reading further. "Their income has been static the entire time."
"We need to start a formal inquiry and have some people go over to pick up a physical copy of their financial records."
"Ma'am," the man spoke up again.
"Yes?"
"We'll need to scrutinize even the official books, to make sure that they aren't fabricated. Smaller brands like that are required to have receipts in addition to the official records."
"There's no way they would be able to come up with an excuse for that much money missing."
"No, they wouldn't." he agreed.
Pursing her lips, the blonde turned her attention to Cora. "We'll be doing an investigation… and looking at every single record they have."
"Understood," the woman responded, nodding.
"Meeting dismissed." Liz spoke then. She watched quietly as her employees filed out one at a time, paying extra attention to the man who had offered such a useful but simple solution. Steepling her fingers, her blue eyes narrowed. A few minutes after everyone had left, she took her leave as well.
As she walked to her office, her frustration bubbled up just a tad. It wasn't that she was upset that he had a helpful solution. Her problem instead was the fact that she hadn't made mention of it first. Having multiple minds working on something can be useful, she decided.
After closing the door, she noticed she had a sticky attached to the top of her desk. Strange… Normally, a detailed message would have been sent to her. Not… this. Her secretary didn't do something like this without reason. "She didn't even mention it," she muttered in realization. Quickly crossing the room, she snatched up the sticky note.
All that was on the page was a phone number. Frowning, she tried to remember if she recognized it. Pulling out her mobile, she quickly pulled up her contact list and checked the number against ones she had saved.
Nothing was there.
"Odd," she grumbled. She was tempted just to ball up the sticky, but paused. I need to ask Linda why she never mentioned this to me. Peeking out her office door, she saw the woman working diligently at her desk. For a moment, Liz stood there quietly, observing this particular employee. The woman moved between different tasks so smoothly. Letting out a soft sigh, she spoke.
"Linda," Once she saw she had the woman's attention, she spoke again. "Can you come to my office for a moment?"
Dark brows rose, but the woman nodded, securing her station quickly before following her employer.
After closing the door again, Liz held up the sticky. "Why didn't you tell me I had this? And who is it from?"
"Didn't have what?" she asked.
"This note. All it has on it is a number… but that's it."
The woman's gray eyes moved from Liz's face to the sticky… and she seemed very nervous.
This didn't escape Liz's attention at all. "Is there a problem?"
"Umm…" the secretary's voice sounded a bit strangled. "W-Where did you find that?"
Blonde brows tightened at the question. "What do you mean? You left this on my desk."
Swallowing hard, Linda shook her head. "No, ma'am," she replied. "I did not."
The blonde's face fell. "You didn't? Then how…" she was suddenly tongue tied.
"I'm not sure," the secretary replied. "I don't have sticky notes at my desk."
Steeling her resolve, Liz straightened her shoulders. "Show me."
Bobbing her head quickly, the woman led the way back to her station. She proceeded to quickly-and neatly -pull out all of the supplies she kept in the desk. She even took the initiative to remove everything that was in her purse.
"I…" Liz frowned. "I apologize," she said, regret written all over her face.
"It's understandable ma'am," Linda replied, but something in her bearing reflected feeling hurt. "I would do the same to be sure."
Liz seriously doubted that the woman would have. Not to the extent that she just had. To question her secretary like she had displayed- baldly-that she didn't trust her. That… was foolish .
"If that's all, ma'am…" as the woman spoke, she was already repacking her purse and tidying up her desk again-returning her supplies to their allotted places.
"Linda," Liz spoke, her tone much softer. "First off, I would like to extend my apologies," Her shoulders sagged. "That was callous of me."
The woman lightly dipped her head, but said nothing.
Professional to the core… Liz thought, with admiration. It was a tactical move as well. "Secondly, I still need to ask this… Did you see anyone go into my office? For any reason at all?"
"Not at all, ma'am," she gestured to the note. "That's why I was so surprised to see that. I never would have expected to see anything
like that here."
"So not even the janitor came in…" Liz muttered, staring at the note in growing concern.
"Nope!" the brunette replied, pushing a few strands of dark brown hair behind her left ear. "All of them make noise. Comes from the keys."
"Understood," Liz nodded. Frowning now, she wondered where the number came from. It wasn't as if she would be able to justify questioning everyone else in the building. Not all of them were nearly as dependable as Linda. Nor were all of them as honest.
Letting out an audible sigh, Liz moved to return to her office. "Thank you," she spoke. "Sorry for interrupting your work."
"It's perfectly fine, ma'am," she replied.
Once she was back in the office, there was another problem that arose. Should I call this number? Ignore it? Obviously… whoever left it knew exactly where to place it. And they had managed to do it today-all under her secretary's nose. Someone had access to her office… and they were even able to get past security.
While she wasn't sure definitively that the guard hadn't spotted them, it was telling that her secretary didn't notice.
Making a decision, she picked up her office phone and called down to the security guard's station.
"Alchemex Estmond, Isadore Atherton speaking. How can I help you?"
"This is Liz Allan," the blonde stated.
"Hello, Miss Allan," he replied. "How can I help you today?" "Isadore, did you see anyone unusual come in the building?" "Unusual?" he asked, trying to clarify what he was being asked. "Someone you're not used to seeing?"
"No, not at all," he replied. "Everyone who came had to go past my station. They've all been employees."
"You do have tape, right?" "Of course, ma'am."
Swallowing, Liz frowned. "I'm coming down. I need to see the tape from the lobby."
"Understood," he replied. "Do you have a specific timeframe?"
Here, Liz paused. How long was this in my office? She wasn't certain. "Uhh… this morning. Since I came in." That sticky had certainly not been in her office when she came in.
Right?
There was a small pause as the guard scribbled some information down on a notepad. "Understood," he replied. "Whenever you're ready."
"I'm coming down right now," she responded. Tucking the sticky note into her purse, she grabbed it and hurried out the office. "Linda, hold my calls for the next two hours."
The woman nodded lightly. "Understood, ma'am." 45 minutes later…
"Still nothing?" Liz asked, standing next to the guard as he examined the tapes for that morning.
"No."
The blonde sighed. Something should have been there… anything.
"Wait a minute…" the guard muttered, squinting at the screen. He rewound the video a few seconds and looked carefully.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Look right here," he said, pointing to the screen and most notably… the clock on the wall.
"Alright?"
"Now, you see the time, yes?" "I do."
Both of them saw, after he pressed the play that the time on the clock jumped ahead twenty minutes.
"Umm…"
"Whoever came in found a way to tamper with the video so there was no evidence of them on screen."
"But… how?" Liz asked. It didn't make any sense! How was it possible that someone could slip past everyone and get rid of any evidence, along with going unnoticed?
"Not sure ma'am."
Blonde brows pinched together tightly; distress visible on her face. "So… should I call the number they left?"
"I wouldn't advise that, ma'am," he replied. "There's no way to know who is on the other end of the line."
"Is it possible I could have someone trace the number?"
"You could," he replied. "However, the number might be from a burner phone."
8PM
Once she stepped through her front door, she pushed it to with a click and turned to quickly lock it. She took a few steps into the room and saw a similar colored sticky note stuck to the front of the television. Jaw trembling, she pulled out her phone and made a
quick phone call. It rang for a little bit before the call as picked up.
Hello?" the voice of an older man came through the phone. "Henry, you were just here, weren't you?"
"I was, Miss Allan," he replied. "I always leave at seven in the evening."
"Did… did you see anything before you left?" she asked, lowering her voice. She ascended the stairs, intent on checking to see if her son was alright.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Can you be more specific ma'am?"
Sucking between her teeth, Liz pinched the skin between her brows. "I found a sticky note on the television in the family room."
"Huh…" he muttered. "There was nothing there at all, ma'am."
"… I… I-I see," she replied. "Have a good night Henry. Sorry for disturbing you tonight."
"Ma'am…" he spoke up quickly.
"Yes?" she asked, running shaky fingers through her hair. Fortunately, Normie seemed fine.
"Do you need me to come back over, ma'am?"
Swallowing hard, she considered it. Henry was much older, more like a grandfather to her. If someone was trying to send her a message, it wouldn't be safe for him to come over. "No, that's fine," she replied. "I'm going to be calling the police."
After she got off the phone with him, she called for emergency assistance.
The police showed up about ten minutes later, but to her-it felt much longer.
As she stood making her statement in the family room, her son came down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. "Mom?" he asked.
Worriedly, she looked at him. "Yes?"
"What happened?" he asked. "I saw the lights outside… and I got scared."
"Don't worry, son," she responded, smoothly. "Just go back to bed, huh?"
"Okay, okay," he replied, unable to suppress a yawn.
The office had maintained her silence during the exchange, and when she resumed speaking, her voice was much softer. "It is advisable that you and your son seek different accommodations tonight."
Liz frowned. "… Of course."
"We're dusting for prints on your tv set right now," she pointed out, gesturing to where her coworkers were busy at work. "And we'll be investigating this number you received."
"Good," Liz replied. The exact same number was on the second sticky note. "Thank you for all your help, officer," her voice trailed off as she looked up the stairs. "I'll tell him we need to get moving." "We'll give you a police escort to a hotel of your choice if that's what you'd prefer."
"That… that might be best," Liz replied. 7AM
Yawning, Liz clasped Henry's arm. "Thank you for taking him with you today."
"Of course," the older man replied, smiling. "I can keep him as long as you wish, past today if necessary."
Liz hesitated… then nodded in acquiescence. "That would be best."
Worried that she was being followed, she made sure that she met her son's caretaker at a different location, and he brought a change of clothes for her son.
Normie was unaware of what was wrong, chose not to ask. He knew his mother was upset about something, so he didn't want to cause her any trouble.
Liz had gone to extremes today. She had one of her smaller staffers- about her son's size-ride along with the caretaker. After they met inside the restaurant, both her son and the staffer went into the men's room and exchanged clothes.
Then… the foursome went their own way. However, to any onlooker, her son would have been the same person who entered the eatery with Henry.
"Let's get to work, Barbara," she spoke in a hushed whisper to the staffer.
"Yes," the much smaller woman responded, tucking her hands into Normie's jean pockets.
They climbed back into Liz's car, and the blonde pushed the accelerator down, on the way to work. She wasn't due in until later in the day-but she needed something to get her mind off what was happening to her. She wondered while she drove… Who would think to do such a thing?
I don't have any enemies. Not as far as I know. Liz took special care to have a clean image to both her employees and the press. While it could be a bit distressing to maintain such-it translated into smoother relationships with partners and investors.
After they reached Alchemex, Liz unlocked the door so her staffer could get out, but she rested her head on the steering wheel, squeezing it tightly.
"Ma'am?" Barbara spoke. When she saw she had Liz's attention, she extended a hand. "We'll go in together."
Sighing, Liz nodded, accepting the help, stepping out of the car slowly.
Barbara pulled lightly and helped steady the blonde. "Everything will be just fine," she spoke, a smile in place. "I promise it will be."
Sighing, Liz glanced at her heels momentarily as the two of them walked through the lobby. She waved to the security guard on the way to the elevators.
Returning to her office was a whole other experience… one that she didn't much appreciate. She felt exposed… horribly so.
Fortunately, the day passed in a blur and there was no indicator of any other strange activity… at least not yet. She was easing into the long haul of the day, sorting through different papers. A lot had to be done about that brand… so she was looking forward to hearing what the investigative teams had found.
But… the waiting was boring. Very much so. Staring at expense reports wasn't any better at occupying her time. Her office phone rang right when she was in the middle of checking off a problem in one of the reports she was reviewing. Without looking at the phone, she picked it up. "Liz here," she said.
Oddly enough… there was no response on the phone, save a series of soft clicks. Dropping her pen, she glanced at the speaker setting on the phone and lifted the handset-dropping it back down and ending the call. "How irregular…" she mumbled.
It was very strange… to the extent that she began feeling uncomfortable again. After circling the error she'd found earlier, she got up and walked out her office to Linda's desk. "Good job on pointing out those irregularities to me," she remarked.
Glancing up, the woman offered a soft smile. "No problem ma'am." "Your corrections were excellent, with no errors to be seen."
In response, the woman dipped her head.
"I have a question," Liz spoke after a moment.
"Ma'am?"
"All of my calls are screened by you, right?"
The secretary nodded. "Of course, ma'am."
"You just transferred in a strange call…" Liz commented.
Looking utterly confused, Linda looked at her own phone. "Nothing's come in… in the last three hours."
"What?!" Liz stiffened…
"Ma'am?" the other woman asked, shocked.
"I… a call came through. It thought it came through you." "Normally… they do-"
"Whoever was on the end of this call… they got around you. To get to me."
The brunette's eyes widened in fear. "I… call the police ma'am…"
"Yes," Liz agreed, folding her arms to hide the trembling in her hands. "That would be best."
After returning to her office, Liz sunk into her office chair, dropping her head into her hands. Who is this? she wondered. She shook her head. It didn't make any sense! None at all! She was about to reach out to the guard's station again, but paused.
They had no video back then… would it be the same now? Biting into her bottom lip, she picked up her phone… reluctantly dialing again.
9:50AM
It was some of the same. The security guards had seen no one… and once again, there was a fragment of their videos missing. I have to change my pattern… she thought with growing alarm. Whoever this was relied on her being around the building… right?
Then again… they had also found out where she lived.
Her phone buzzed and looking at it, her right eye began to twitch. The same number she'd seen countless times now… it was calling her. She was about to reject it, but paused. If she did that, it would be redirected to her voicemail.
Picking up, she immediately hung up then. Exhaling, feeling shaky, she began to relax… until the phone rang again.
Over the course of the next twenty minutes, she had another call. It was frightening and irritating as well. Every five minutes on the dot, she received a call.
The police arrived after the latest call and instead of speaking with them, she asked for their patience. "I need to change my voicemail settings." Thumbing through the phone quickly, she was able to access her voicemail and change the greeting. As soon as the changes had saved, another phone call came in.
The officers looked at her.
"Unfortunately," she began. "I've been suffering from harassment for the past two days."
"What kind?" the tall male officer asked, pulling out a notepad. "I already have a case number," she replied… then proceeded to
give the number to them.
The officer quickly wrote down the information she gave him. "Today, I received a call."
"On your cell, right?" he asked.
"No," she managed, swallowing hard. "It was my office line. Next to no one has that number." She read the concern on the faces of all the officers-not just the one she was addressing.
"What did you hear?" one of the other officers asked.
Scribbling on the notepad, the one who addressed her previously lifted his eyes.
"A soft clicking noise… like someone was typing something." "Or recording?" a third officer asked.
Blonde brows rose as three of the police officers started to speaking about the possibility.
After a moment, all three officers turned to look at her. "Ma'am," the one holding the notepad, "We've had reports of something similar occurring."
"What?!" she asked.
"There's a dangerous actor who is in the process of stalking different persons."
"D… Do any of us have anything in common?" She didn't feel any better when she saw the sudden hesitance.
"Not entirely," as he spoke, he flipped the notepad closed. "The other victims have all been men."
"Men?" she asked, concerned.
"Yes. In all of the previous cases, we were dealing with male victims. Even the ones close to them who were targets-all men.
Liz flinched at the word 'target.' "So what makes me so special?" she asked, displeasure written on her features.
"That part, ma'am," he replied. "We'll have to find out."
"The previous ones weren't followed home," the second officer noted with a sigh. "That's brand new too."
"Similar M.O." the third officer chimed in.
"We thinking it's the same person… or a copycat?" the first asked his fellow officers.
"Likely a copycat."
"Do…" Liz began, shivering a little. "Do you have the other one in custody?"
Pausing, all three officers shook their heads. "Is there any good news about this?" she asked.
"No casualties to date," the first office stated. "But whoever or whatever is doing this is thorough. No prints, be it finger or shoe."
"Are you certain it really could be a copycat?" she asked.
"It's just a hunch, ma'am," he acknowledged. "For the time being," he continued. "You might want to consider changing your routine."
"Or stopping it entirely," the second officer commented.
"… But I run this company," she replied. "How can I run this company if I'm busy hiding?"
"You'll need to make adjustments ma'am, so you can keep yourself and your loved ones safe."
With a pang, Liz thought about her son and moved to grab her phone.
"I would strong advise against calling anyone with that phone," the first officer spoke. "Since they now have access to your phone number, they might also have access to a list of people you are or have called."
"How… H-How far back?" "We're uncertain as of this time."
"How… what… what do I do?" she asked, on the edge of tears. She couldn't call Henry to warn him. And-her son!
Elsewhere
A hooded figure sat in front of a screen. Their eyes and half of their face was in shadow.
"Mm," they murmured. They lifted a lone, long finger, lightly tapping on the screen. As they leaned back, a grin stretched their mouth. Rolling back, they stopped at a point, and grabbed a bowl of popcorn.
The black and white image on the computer monitor was being streamed from the main office of Alchemex's CEO.
The woman was gesturing while talking to a trio of police officers. She seemed agitated.
Grin widening to an extreme degree, they reached forward and tapped a few keys. Audio came in-loud and clear.
What about my son?!" she asked. "I have to be able to protect him!"
One of the officers looked visibly uncomfortable. "I can make the call for you," he offered, pulling a slim phone out of his pants pocket.
You can?" she asked, her eyes wide.
The hooded figure touched the screen. She had dazzling blue eyes- as beautiful as the sky above. The color darkened depending on her mood. Their grin dropped abruptly… and they pressed their hand against her face. They wondered how dark her eyes were then.
"… can ma'am. I just need the number to dial," he continued.
As he heard her recite the numbers, his fingers were quick and intercepted the call. He knew that instead of the sound she was supposed to hear, there would only be static.
The officer's eyes went wide first, and he seemed to be struggling. Before turning to her, he looked at the other officers, trying to school his features.
Is something wrong?" she asked, frantic.
Just some interference…" he replied, turning to look at her. The expression on his face initially had disagreed with his words, but he quickly smoothed his features.
For her.
The last thing they needed was a medical episode.
In their dark, little room, with only the monitor for light-the hooded figure relaxed back in their seat and stuffed a handful of popcorn in their mouth. They didn't need to hear much else and punched a few keys in, turning off their external speakers. The "stream" of course would continue to capture audio.
Not bad at all, they thought. They didn't have the luxury of dinner and a show-but this was the next best thing. Hearing their phone ring, they glanced to it, grimacing at the number that flashed across the screen. Maybe I can just ignore it… Right when the phone stopped ringing, there was the sound of a text message coming in.
Glancing at it, their eyes narrowed.
It read: "Pick up-or call back. I don't care. I do know that you won't have another penny in that wallet unless you call me back."
Scrambling then, they struggled to quickly backtrack and find the number to redial.
Less than ten seconds later, the call was answered. "Oh, so you're alive, huh?"
"Yeah," they replied, voice sounding raspy, but decidedly masculine.
Your payment will be there soon, depending on how this call goes."
Those hooded eyes narrowed. The conversation was not going the way it should have. And it had just started. "I'm listening."
Oh Reuben, always attentive and ready as ever. How far have you gotten into the company?"
Lips pursed in thought momentarily, one finger tapping against the chin. The fingernail was cracked and broken-and fairly filthy. As were all of the fingernails. "Surveillance," was the reply.
Surveillance?" There was brief silence… then, "Reuben… I could have picked another man other than you for this. You only have surveillance?"
"Yeah," he replied again. "I planted a camera and am listening in."
That's all?"
"What do you mean?" The question had merit. Getting into Liz Allan's office to begin with was difficult. Planting a camera in a place she'd never see and hooking it directly into her electrical system was next level.
I'm paying for more than that."
Exhaling in frustration, the words came out in a rush. "I've tracked every location she's been, left notes in every place she's been- including her home…" A pause… a faint yawn… and then…. "I've been leaving her notes to call."
Call your number? How sloppy can you get?!"
"No," the word nearly came out in a snarl. How insulting! Should I work for peanuts? The question was valid… and upsetting as everything was in so deep now. "It's a random VOIP number."
Oh…"
The sound of throat clearing cut through the silence.
That… M-My mistake," after a beat, more came. "Please, continue."
"I've also tapped her office phone and…" This part would be decidedly juicy. "I also have eyes on her personal phone."
"… Really?"
That lazy grin slid right back into place. "I have more than earned my wages," that rough voice spoke again.
So, you have."
There was silence on that end-save for the sound of clacking keys. Another ding was heard and checking showed brilliant results!
I've added extra for your good work. We just need a little more, so I have a side project for you."
Green spoke faster than most things in the world. Eyes narrowed again, the hooded man scratched his stubbled chin. "I'm listening."
She has one other vulnerability, doesn't she?"
"Hmm," he grumbled, turning the question over in his mind. "What do you mean?"
She has a child, doesn't she?"
He sat up straighter then. "I think so…?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He'd be listening in to her as she spoke to the officers about her son .
You'll get what you have right now… and double if you get the child."
Goosebumps rose on his skin. Double? That was so much money! I could retire on that and live well for a long long time… It was tempting, very much so. "Are you sure about that?"
It's as sure as yours if you do it!"
A thought occurred to him then… a question in the back of his mind. "What about after?"
After what?"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he frowned. "After I nab the kid… what then?" He wanted to know what his employer wanted him to do afterwards, and he was starting to regret asking as the silence was distinct. For a solid three minutes, all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing.
After that-
I don't care really. You can dispose of it wherever you see fit."
Dispose?! That didn't sound good at all. "What do you mean dispose? You mean 'return' after a period, right?" Wait… did he just call the kid an "it?"
Why would you ever return them?"
He swallowed hard, not liking this at all. Somehow, he had worked his way into a planned conspiracy… and potential murder of an innocent person.
His silence must have aggravated his employer.
I could always find someone else to do the job for me, Reuben, but I stuck with you because I assumed you were the best."
"Oh, don't worry," he replied, feeling a little sick. "I'll take care of it."
Very good! And as a thank you, you'll receive one quarter in the next few days."
"Sure," he replied. "Have to go now!"
Until then…"
When the call hung up, he dropped the phone on his desk, his hand shaking. "What did I just do?" he asked himself.
There was no amount of money.
None.
Nothing that would ever excuse the killing of a child.
Even if it is for so much money… Eyes becoming heavily lidded, he focused hard on what to do. One thing was for certain… whoever was paying him-they had it out for Allan, not just her company. There was no need to kidnap her child.
Tapping her lines, stalking, and frightening her-these were things he was fine with. It was enough to have her off balance and for Alchemex's competitors to rise while there was panic at the top.
But kidnapping and murder?
It left a sour taste in his mouth. Though, he had to admit to himself… what he'd done was very rotten to begin with. It wasn't normal to terrorize someone so thoroughly either.
I have to think of something… he thought with a grimace. The first thing he was going to do after he ate was have that money piggyback to another account.
Grabbing a can from just outside his range of vision, and a metal spoon, he spat on and wiped the lid off with his sleeve. Gripping the spoon firmly, he stabbed it into the can a few times, cutting into the lid. Then, he used the backend of the spoon to force the lid open further. After he'd pulled enough of the lid away, he scooped up a spoonful of pork n beans and stuffed it in his mouth.
"This sucks," he grumbled. He supposed his 'fun time' was nearly over.
Two Days Later
Alchemex - 8AM Liz's Office
She knew it was a bad idea to stay in the building. The police had said as such, but she wanted to see if whoever was behind all the recent chaos in her life came in her office that morning. So she decided to spent the night over yesterday-after taking an entire day off to try and calm her mind.
Sleeping in her office wasn't nearly as comfortable as her own bed. She hadn't tried to call Henry again, for fear of what might happen. She also couldn't call up the police again for more information.
It wasn't safe.
"Should have built a bathroom in here," she murmured, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Licking dry lips, she stretched and got off the floor. Picking up the duffel she'd packed with spare clothes, she opened the door of her office.
Only to run into the startled gaze of Linda.
"Ma'am?!" the woman gawped, having not seen her boss come in. "Mm?" Liz lightly scratched her head, her hair a disheveled mess.
"Um," After a moment, she noticed that her boss looked as if she'd slept in her suit.
"Yes?" Liz asked, still a little groggy.
Having held a thick package to her chest, Linda extended it to Liz. "This came in for you today, ma'am."
Curious, Liz turned back to her office. "What is this?" she asked.
The secretary's mouth opened and closed a few times. How was she supposed to know? "It came Express."
Absently, the blonde nodded. She didn't remember placing any personal orders. Nearly done opening the package, she froze. I don't have things sent here, she remembered… shaking. Turning around, she spoke, "Linda, I need you to call the police!"
The woman didn't hesitate. She'd never heard her boss so terrified. Something in that package… she realized with dread.
Thirty Minutes Later…
"You said you're uncertain where this came from?" one of the officers asked. He was walking alongside her and was clad in an armored suit, including a helmet with a clear screen he could see through.
"No," the blonde spoke, feeling very frazzled. "I don't have packages delivered to my company."
The officer's brows rose, but he sighed and stopped once outside the building.
"Clear so far," he murmured, sounding relieved. "Stay here, ma'am."
Liz did as ordered, watching as the suited officer joined others, the package in his hands. They moved to an area of low traffic. She watched quietly as the members of the bomb squad tried to see if the package she was sent held any explosives.
Not long after, the package was handed back to her. It was a thick stack of papers.
Nothing to be worried about.
"Have a good day, ma'am," the officer stated as he headed back out the front doors of the office building.
Embarrassed, Liz thanked them, waved and hurried back to her office. Freeing the papers, blonde brows drew down sharply. She wasn't entirely certain why there was gibberish on the first few pages. Part of her wanted to discard it… but she pushed through.
Right in the middle of the stack was a stapled section of papers. They were cut further down in size to hide them.
Clearing her throat, Liz read the first line on the page and froze…
It read, "Hey, 'Lizzie,' I have something for you." Right past that line were details and times… Swallowing hard, Liz realized it was a record of her schedule.
Even her unexpected stops were listed, along with times.
Call Me. Or pick up… the choice is yours." Was scrawled on the sides of each page. And the further in she went… the more concerned she became.
Her office phone rang suddenly… and it was the same number. Picking up with reluctance, she spoke clearly. "Allan here."
Wow," Reuben said. "Finally, she answers," he chortled, echoing words he'd heard not long ago.
Frowning, Liz turned just a little away from the phone. "Is there something I can do to help you?"
Oh no…" he replied. "There's something I want to do to help you." "… Such as?"
Did you look at page 10?" he asked.
Elsewhere…
I didn't have time… but I am now," she replied, flipping through the pages.
He waited, giving her a few minutes. "Now turn back to page five," he smirked at his monitor, seeing how she reacted to the question.
"… I am," she said through gritted teeth, flipping pages yet again . "Do you recognize anything familiar?"
Annoyance was on her face. "There's nothing but a series of numbers here."
"Yes. Those are accounts."
Accounts for what?!" she asked.
"You… really didn't get any sleep, did you?" he asked, changing the subject. He didn't watch her all the time, but he was aware that she'd gone to bed in her office.
"… What are you talking about?" she asked in a small voice. "What do you want?"
"Those are my accounts. I want you to put money in them."
I… For what?" she asked.
"Keeping you, Henry and dear Normie safe." he replied. He'd come to a decision. He was going to get money no matter which direction he turned. One of them had fewer moral repercussions than the other.
"… Are you threatening me?" she asked, a hitch in her voice. The blonde squeezed her eyes shut.
"Not at all," he replied. "In fact, I called to help you."
But you want money…" she reminded him.
"Well, there's someone willing to pay a lot of money to me to do the opposite of what I am."
What?!"
"I don't hurt kids…" he added, running his fingers through his hair.
You said someone is paying you for-"
"I accepted it so they wouldn't give the job to anyone else."
But…"
"Don't you want my help?" he asked. He watched as the blonde woman lowered her head, hugging the papers to her chest. The sight prickled at his conscience. Maybe it wasn't right to charge her too… But… I need money…
I…"
He saw when the blonde lowered her head, tossing the papers down and resting her head in her hands. Instead of insisting, he gave her time to gather her thoughts. There was much that she needed to think about, he knew. She probably wonders how legitimate this all is…
Reuben was patient as he watched her straighten up slowly…
I do," she replied. Leaning back in her office chair, her face raised, strain was visible on her features.
"Then this is what you're going to do…" he began. He watched as she became attentive. "I'll be in touch in three hours. In that time, I want ten thousand in my account."
Ten-"
"As a downpayment," he added. He wasn't about to do all of this work for such a small sum.
Downpayment?" she asked, frowning. If it was going to bring an end to the fear she was beginning to collapse under…
"Yes. You see, I have a lot of work to do," he explained. "I'm in essence turning on my current employer to help you." Reuben was well aware that there would be dire consequences if he was caught. He licked his upper lip. An idea was beginning to form in his mind. Maybe I can have both… he thought with a grin. It was going to prove itself to be a delicate balancing act. "And such effort requires proper compensation."
She was quiet, but he watched as the wheels began turning. "What is the total amount you hope to obtain by this… 'agreement?'" she asked.
"Right to the chase I see!" He could appreciate it when people were direct. He watched as she rolled her eyes. "My full price is three hundred thousand."
What?!"
He watched the alarm grow on her face. "That money," he continued. "Will be used to infiltrate and ultimately neutralize the threat to your company and your family."
The company?" she asked, still reeling from the price tag. And there would be no way to know if the work was even done! She wondered if it was worth the risk… but when she thought about her son…
"I think the goal is to either take down to take over Alchemex."
You're serious?" she asked, feeling sick. So, this man's employer wanted to not just harm her, but take her company?
"Very." He rested his elbows on his desk, steepling his fingers.
Why would anyone do that to me?" she asked, feeling apprehensive.
"Has there… been anyone you've hurt of late?"
"I just got this job a few weeks ago. So… Lizzie," he leaned closer to the screen. "Is there anyone who you've caused harm to?"
No, I don't think… so…" she muttered, pausing as she thought of one person. But he would never do that…
Would he?
"He seems quite angry with you, Miss Allan."
I can… think of one person," she spoke, hoping against hope that she was wrong. "Can you give me a name?" she asked.
"That'll be an extra ten thousand," he replied.
"… You can't be serious!" the blonde stared into space, with horror plainly written on her features. "Why does that cost so much?!"
"Well, I am providing you a service," he reminded her. "And giving you information like that could compromise the rest of my job if you decide… to act."
Decide to act?" she asked.
"You already know," he began. "That if you knew the name of my employer-you would seek them out with everything you had." He stretched a little in his seat. "Doing something like that would pull the 'problem' out of my hands and make your entire situation worse."
Oh…" she replied, suddenly understanding. Swallowing hard, she let out a heavy sigh, allowing her shoulders to sag. "… You said to send to your account?" she asked softly.
"Yes. Exactly."
But… which one?" The series of numbers was confusing for her, as there were so many of them.
"What do you mean? That's the account number."
Liz's eyes widened. "All of these numbers are for a single account?" "Yes."
What if I make a mistake?" she asked, even more worried now. "I'll send a preformed link in a text message. The link will direct you
to the website and the account you're to send money too."
Alright…" the blonde replied, lowering her eyes. "For my son, I'll do it."
"Oh, it's not for him alone," he replied. "It's for you both."
Once the call ended, Liz warily looked at her cellphone. This entire situation was strange. What if things didn't turn out as the man had suggested? What if he was lying and just trying to get money with minimal effort?
Can I even afford to question his motives? she asked, concern for her son superseding her company.
When the message came in, Liz didn't hesitate. She quickly tied in the information needed and sent the money. Less than three minutes later, she received another text, from that same number.
Thanks," it said. "I'll be in touch very soon."
Placing her cellphone down on her desk, she leaned forwards and buried her face in her hands.
What have I just done? she asked… But no answer was forthcoming… To Be Continued…
Author's Note: This is an additional chapter added on as part of the 2023 NanoWrimo competition. I did win and my engraved placard is beautiful. I hope you enjoyed this teeny foray into the past with Miss Allan!
Like? Hate? Let me know. I love constructive criticism. Thanks for stopping by!
~J. Lyst