Here Be Monsters - an Anthology of Monster Tales (2 page)

“That is your cut just for helping me with a few simple, untraceable tasks. You deserve it. I won’t take no for an answer.” Barry reached into his work bag next to the couch. “Check this out.” He tossed a dark object toward Tim’s face.

Tim caught the thing in self defense. He turned it over in his hands, and it took him almost a full second to realize what it was. “A gun? Why do you have a gun?”

Barry shrugged. “Hey, man. These are some rough characters I owe. It’s just for protection.”

Tim moved slowly, placing the gun on the table as though it were a bomb that was ready to explode. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Barry. This is getting crazy.”

He wanted stay and argue with his old friend, but the thought of what Barry wanted him to do made him nauseous. Instead, he went home and dreamed of guns, loan sharks, jail cells, and the CEO’s gorgeous green eyes.

*****

When Tim arrived at the office the next morning, Barry was sitting at Tim’s desk, using his computer. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Barry jumped, obviously startled. “Sorry. System update was taking forever on my machine, so I was just surfing on yours. Had to check my messages.” He took his time, finally getting out of Tim’s chair after making several more precise clicks of the mouse. “I’m sending the CEO an email today to request a meeting tonight.”

They were the only two people in that corner of the building, but Tim still glanced around nervously. “Why are you talking about it out loud like that? Are you nuts?”

“Relax. I made friends with one of the security guys who works in the main control room. He said that only the entrances and exits are monitored. They don’t even log what websites we visit. Thank God for that, otherwise they’d have fired me years ago.” Barry laughed and punched Tim in the arm.

“Barry, we have to talk about this. There’s no way you’ll get away with it.”

“It’s fool-proof,” Barry said. “I’ll send Miss Romana a taste of the incriminating documents via a totally untraceable email account and tell her where to wire the cash. Once the transfer is made, the receiving account will split it up and send it to forty-three separate accounts in fifteen different countries. By the time they track them down, I’ll have run that money through several legit businesses and made it so squeaky clean you could eat off it.”

He reached into his pocket and produced a piece of paper with two series of numbers scrawled on it. “Before I forget, here is the account number and phone number for the bank with your cut.” He folded the paper and placed it in Tim’s shirt pocket, not giving him a chance to protest. “Don’t worry, I made sure yours goes through twelve different banks on its own. It is completely untraceable.”

“What makes you think she’ll go for this instead of calling the police?”

“It really is an offer she can’t refuse. Her choices are to call the cops and lose everything or pay the measly million and a half bucks. She’ll pay.” Barry’s confidence spilled out in the form of a smug grin.

Tim couldn’t help but see the specter of prison bars in their future.

“Look, Barry. I told you I don’t want any part of this. I’ve already done more than I wanted to. Just do me one favor. Don’t set this in motion today. Sleep on it. We’ll put our heads together and figure something out so you don’t have to do this.”

Barry scowled. Tim knew he was nearly impossible to dissuade once he’d set his mind to something, no matter how crazy it was. But, surprisingly, after a moment the scowl softened and Barry smiled. “Fine. Waiting one day won’t kill me, I guess. Let’s meet in your office tonight at eight. I have some month-end stuff to finish so I’ll be working late anyway. Go grab a bite to eat when you’re done with work and come back. I don’t know how the hell you think we can figure out a way to make enough cash to pay off my debt, but we can talk about it.”

They parted with a nod. Tim was surprised at how quickly Barry had caved, but he felt a little better. After Barry left, he looked at the computer and found that the last thing he had done was clear the internet history.

Tim shook his head. “Barry and his porn. I don’t even want to know.” He spent the rest of the day working and trying to figure out how to raise the money without breaking the law.
 

He finished up his work well after sunset and walked by Barry’s office door on his way to the elevator. It was closed, as it was every month when crunch time rolled around. He could hear fingers furiously banging on keys as Barry drafted the monthly summary for the executives to let them know the state of financial affairs. He had his issues, but Barry was a wizard when it came to numbers.

Tim rode the elevator down to the third floor. The bell rang and he reminded himself to look before rushing through the doors. They opened and he jumped.

“Hi, Tim.” Lucille Romana smiled and stood patiently outside the elevator.

He stood with his mouth agape for several seconds before rational thought returned. “Hi…uh…Lucy. I didn’t knock you down this time.” Smooth.

“I appreciate that,” she said.

A moment of awkward silence passed. Lucifera glanced into the elevator behind him. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Great. Never better. You?”

“I am well.” She was still smiling, but a look of concern had crept into her eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right? Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

My friend is a psychopathic dope fiend and gambling addict who is planning to blackmail you. Also, he’s armed and I’m pretty sure he downloaded a gigabyte of x-rated videos on my company computer.

“Uh…no.” He realized he had been blocking her path to the elevator and she was waiting on him to move, so he quickly stepped out of the way and held the door for her. “Sorry.”

“No apology needed,” she said. The doors started to close, but this time, she stopped them. “Tim, if you ever want to talk, feel free to stop by my office on the thirteenth floor. The code is six, six, six. I know it is rather silly. Security is somewhat lax here on the inside, but that is why we only hire people we know we can trust.”

“Yeah, trust,” he said, twisting his face into an approximation of a smile. “See you later.”

“Goodbye,” she said.

Tim took a deep breath to keep from trembling and made his way to the company café. Thankfully, it stayed open twenty-four hours a day to accommodate the company’s sometimes grueling work schedule.
 
Grabbing a sandwich from the cooler, he took a seat two tables away from a man and woman he vaguely recognized from the logistics department. They were in their early thirties and were part of the lucky group that was able to get away with wearing polo shirts while everyone else was stuck in business suits. From their posture, it was fairly obvious that the man was very attracted to his khaki-skirt-wearing coworker while she barely knew he existed. Tim knew the scene well. He had played the part of the harmless, sexless guy-friend more than once.
 

Tim wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the woman was speaking loud enough that he didn’t have much choice. She was relating the story of her sick mother who had been on the verge of losing their family home just weeks earlier. The poor job market and mounting medical bills had drained their finances to the point where foreclosure was imminent. Tim strongly suspected the woman’s coworker was feigning interest in her family while biding his time to change the subject to a sexier topic.

The ending of the story caught Tim’s attention. The woman had related her mother’s plight to someone in the human resources department. Within a week, the company had purchased the house from the bank and worked out a modified payment plan that would allow her and her mother to buy the home at a fraction of the cost. Earlier in the day, the woman had received a personal note from the CEO thanking her for her loyal service and wishing her mother well. It was almost too good to be true.

Tim wondered if that might work for Barry. He was a damn good accountant, after all. They had no idea that he was anything other than a loyal employee at the moment. The thought of betraying his friend’s trust sickened Tim, but the thought of getting dragged into a blackmail plot and going to prison sickened him more.

He threw away the rest of his sandwich and headed to the elevator. He stepped inside and pressed the button for the thirteenth floor. The digital readout requested a password. He pressed six, six, six. The floor number display went black and the elevator shot up to the executive floor.

Tim stepped through the open doors and looked around. The floor was black marble and the walls were dark brown mahogany. The tables in the vacant hall were adorned by vases of roses so deeply red that they almost looked black.

Tim glanced down the empty passages. The air was cold and the place was completely silent. It almost felt like a tomb. He immediately regretted his decision to come. He turned around and pressed the elevator button furiously, but nothing happened.

The barely audible sound of a foot tapping against the floor caught his attention. Turning back around, he jumped, finding that he was no longer alone.

The surly blonde executive bodyguard was standing directly in front of him with her arms crossed. He was suddenly aware of just how similar her shimmering eyes looked to Lucy’s.

“Hi,” he said.

Her only response was a slightly raised eyebrow and a deeper frown.

“I’m here to see Lucy. She said I could stop by?” It wasn’t really a question, but Tim’s apprehension made it sound like one.

“Of course she did. This way.”

She walked over to an enormous oak door directly across from the elevator. Tim wondered how he had failed to notice it before.

The door must have weighed at least a hundred pounds, but the woman pushed it open like it was nothing. “You have a visitor,” she said.

Tim stepped into the office and the woman left, closing the door behind her. Lucy sat at a stylish black desk that was empty save for a phone and a small day planner. Behind her, the
Los Angeles
nighttime skyline poured in through the floor to ceiling window, a sea of glass towers, lights, and life.

“Hello again,” she said. “Have a seat.”

“Hi.” Tim sat in the amazingly comfortable leather chair directly in front of her desk. Immediately an object on the shelf next to the window caught his eye. “Is that a samurai sword?” he asked.

She glanced back at the shelf. “Yes. They tell me it is a very old wakizashi, the shorter sister of a katana. Would you like to see it?”

“Uh…no. I just didn’t know you’d be armed.”

“Should I be?”

They laughed, and Tim realized that his hands were trembling again.

“There is something I need to talk to you about, Lucy.” Sitting in her office and calling her that just felt wrong. “I mean, Miss Romana.”

“Lucy is fine,” she said. “You can talk to me, Tim. What is going on?”

“I have a friend who is in trouble. He made some mistakes and borrowed a lot of money from the wrong people. Now I think his life may be in danger.” He didn’t realize just how weak the story sounded until he said it aloud.

“Your friend is an employee of Romana Industries?”

“Yes.”

“I can do nothing for him unless he requests help of his own free will.”

Tim nodded. The trembling was getting worse. He forced back tears as the weight of the situation hit him. If they didn’t do something Barry might end up dead.

Suddenly, Lucy was sitting in the chair next to his. He hadn’t seen her move, but it must have been the stress. He wasn’t paying attention.

“It is all right, Tim. You did the right thing in coming to me. This company is run like a family and a family takes care of its own. Tell your friend he can come to me and he will have nothing to fear. Loyalty is a quality I value above all others.”

“Thank you.” Tim felt a little better. Lucy had to be close to his age, but her confidence and manner made her seem so much older.

“You are welcome. And now, there is something you can help me with if you have time.”

“Anything,” he said.

She led him to the private elevator in the back of her office, offering no further explanation. They entered the elevator and descended into the lower levels of the forty-story tower.

“Will you give me your completely honest opinion?” she asked.

“What if it isn’t what you want to hear?”

“Then perhaps it is even more important that you tell me.”