18. An
Exercise in Futility
All alone within the empty house, Edward Darcouver unpacked his
suitcases. The white stucco walls rose high, making it feel far grander than
his old house back in Pittsburgh. That house had been a hand-me-down from his
parents, who had moved down to Florida after their retirement. It was the house
he’d grown up in as a child, and once carried sentimental value to him.
Now, though, all he could think about was his son Vance, the last remaining
link he had to his old life. Naomi had done little to console him, and it
disturbed him when Grayson mentioned that he knew his whereabouts without
offering any sort of concrete answer. Had it been a few years earlier, he would
let his rage get the best of him, and Victoria would have been right by his
side, helping him fight for Vance.
But weakness and emptiness won out. Vance hates me. He blames me for
Victoria’s disappearance, too. Maybe he’s better off without me. So far, Edward hadn’t done
anything to try and find his son. Instead, he’d moved to the opposite side of
the country.
Naomi said it made perfect sense. The company will take care of everything.
It felt weird at first, but I guess she’s right. No use in worrying about what
I can’t control.
An odd feeling lingered in his mind, telling him that something wasn’t
right, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was like waking up and
remembering that he had dreamed something, but forgetting all the details.
Later that day, Edward had run out of things to do, so he decided to
head into the office after lunch. After driving for an hour, he arrived at the
Zexaron Building, the glass obelisk that stood tall in a wide field of nothingness,
cushioned by oil fields on all sides.
The afternoon went by quickly as Edward's new co-workers introduced him
to the many floors and offices of the Zexaron building
*************
felt cold and dark as Frank Arazia shuffled nervously down the hall. Patrick Sherman was missing, and no trace of him had been found anywhere. No evidence existed, which meant that even if the police did interrogate Grayson, they would have nothing to stick on him.
Frank ran the images of the murder through his mind over and over
again, mixing them with the images of the confidential records room on the fifth
floor. That was Frank’s project for today – attaining access to the only records
he’d never searched. Handling all the company’s confidential matters was
Grayson's job, and Grayson was good at keeping secrets.
Frank had searched the building a great deal thus far in his spare
time, but the only useful thing he’d found was a floor map. He’d taken time in between
his actual work to meticulously go through each room, inspect it, and mark it
off on his own copy. By the end of the day, the records room on the fifth floor
was the only one he’d never reached.
Now on the fifth floor, Frank prepared to inspect the door’s security. He
told his secretary he would be going to inspect a new construction site so that
she wouldn't try to find him in the building in case someone called. No lie was
too off-limits at this point – Frank's mind was solely focused on getting into
that room and uncovering Grayson’s conspiracy.
When Frank made it to the small room in a rear corner of the fifth
floor, he found it locked. This created a problem, because he didn't know where
he was going to find a key for a room that only one man used. Frank decided to
take his search down to the first floor lobby. He’d seen Grayson walk into the
small room behind the front desk many times, but never found out why. If there
was a place for a key to be, that suspicious nook would be it. The
problem was getting inside.
Frank moved up to the two secretaries at the desk, Janet and Marianne.
They were ditzy, but did their jobs well. Frank hoped the former quality
would come in handy now.
"Excuse me, ladies." He placed his hands on the counter
gently.
"Hi, Frank, what do you need?" Marianne asked, spinning around
in her sunflower-print shirt.
"Grayson sent me down to pick up some keys for him," Frank
said.
"Oh...okay." The two eyed him strangely.
Frank’s heart rate quickened. Grayson probably never sends anyone to
get keys for him. But it’s not like I could tell them I needed to pick up some
files and then walk out with a ring of keys...
After a pause, Marianne gestured for Frank to step inside. There was
not much to see in the back room, besides a calendar, notices, and women's
jackets hung on its banana-colored walls. The only other things in the room were
two lockers and a file cabinet by the left end.
Frank peered over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, then approached
the lockers. He slid the first one open as silently as he could and looked
inside...nothing. He opened the second one. Also nothing.
A wave of panic rushed over him. Is this some kind of trap? Is
Grayson expecting me to come snooping around in here? No, that's impossible. A
day's gone by since the accident... If Grayson saw me then, I would have known
it by now. I have to keep moving.
Finally, he opened the file cabinet and found what he was looking for.
The only unlocked drawer was the bottom one, which had a ring of six keys inside.
He took it, breathing a sigh of relief, and slid the cabinet shut with his
foot.
Frank returned to his office once more to grab a flashlight, just in case,
then returned to the fifth floor, map and keys in hand. For some reason, the lighting
was unreasonably dim in the hallway. It seemed foreboding, as if he was in the
lair of some ancient beast, just a step away from its nest. Frank started sliding
keys from the ring into the lock until it successfully unlocked with a soft
click.
I’m in.
Tasting a tiny drop of victory, Frank grinned
*************
and took a broad stride out of the elevator on the first floor. It was
a wonderful day – Edward had come to work before his scheduled time to begin, according
to Arazia's secretary, Frank had gone off on an inspection, and best of all,
Patrick Sherman was dead and gone.
Grayson Lee nearly slid down the banister of the staircase to the
lobby, but decided not to frighten any visitors and continued down with an air
of serenity.
"Hello, my dears," Grayson cooed, coming around to Janet and
Marianne, his favorite zombie employees. "How are you both this fine
day?"
"Just perfect, Mr. Lee!" They smiled, stood up straight as rulers
and stared happily into his luscious, green eyes. "How are you?"
"Perfectly perfect!" He grinned, showing off his pearly
whites, then wrenched open the gate to the back room.
The secretaries’ bright eyes followed their employer. "You sure are
happy today, Mr. Lee," Janet called out. "What's the occasion?"
"Oh, nothing." With his back to them, Grayson smirked.
"Just picking up my keys."
Janet and Marianne looked at each other in confusion. "What? But
you just sent Frank down here to get them, didn't you?"
He ignored them initially, tacking it on to idiocy, and opened the drawer.
For a moment, Grayson Lee simply stared at the empty drawer of his file
cabinet, his mouth agape. It was impossible. It couldn't be. Why, why, why would
Frank take his keys? The very idea seemed like a ridiculous joke. Even if his
future self had come back to the past to tell him that very thing, he would have
merely laughed and kicked himself in the face. It was absolutely impossible.
And yet, his keys were not where they were supposed to be. In addition
to that, he already had proof that Frank had not only lied through his teeth to
the girls, but had also snuck into Grayson's private cabinet and taken the keys
himself.
The very thought of the scenario excited Grayson beyond belief. He
could even feel a long, forgotten emotion brimming within. Patrick Sherman’s
obliterated neck resurfaced in his mind. He thought he had seen something out
of the corner of his eye that day when he turned around to get back into his
car. When he scanned the horizon, there had been nothing, but it had stuck in
his memory nonetheless.
This is going to be so much fun.
Grayson sauntered out of the room. "You're right!" he laughed
a genuine laugh, although its pitch seemed a little shrill at the end.
"How could I have forgotten? Frank must have gotten busy with his work, so
he forgot to check back in with me. Sorry to trouble you, ladies. Continue on
as usual!"
The Vice-President moved off in his usual precise fashion, zipping up the
stairs and into the elevator at the top.
"Mr. Lee...forgot something?" Marianne asked her co-worker
with a dubious eyebrow.
"Maybe we should just forget about it, Marianne." Janet
patted her friend on the arm. "It's none of our business, after all."
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right," Marianne said, as she picked
up some papers
*************
flew through the air as Frank tore through the files in a violent
frenzy. He wasn't even paying attention to them anymore. His body was without direction.
He wanted to explode, taking the room – no, the building with it, tearing it
all down. It had all been for naught.
The papers were blank.
Not just the top boxes, not just some of the folders, everything.
There was not one document containing information of any kind in the entire
room. While it was stacked to the brim with containers, there was not one word
of information present at all.
He collapsed into a heap in the pile of papers he’d created, crumpling
them into his fists in defeat. How could I have been so stupid? There’s no
way he’d leave his secrets out in the open like this... It was always nothing
but a trap.
I have to get out of here. I crossed the line...I ruined my entire career
in the pursuit for truth...and I failed miserably, to boot.
A cell phone buzz startled Frank. He pulled it out, but even before he
stared at the name, he already knew who was on the other end.
Frank fled from the room, slamming the door behind him and high-tailing
it down the corridor. He didn't even pick up the keys from where he had left them
on the disheveled floor. There was no point in locking it – everything was out
in the open now.
Frank ran down the passage back to the elevator corridor, entering it seconds
before Grayson arrived. Zexaron's Vice-President stepped out of the other elevator
calmly, surveying the hallway in front of him. He moved systematically through
the halls, looking for any evidence that the floor had received a visitor. This
gave Frank enough time to make it from the building to his car. Janet and Marianne
shouted to him on his way out, but he paid them no heed. He had crossed the
line; all his ties with the company had been severed in an instant. And most
frightening of all, Grayson was coming for him.
Dashing across the asphalt as fast as he could in his dress shoes,
Frank dove inside his car and hurried the engine to life. After skidding out
from the parking lot with an unintentionally loud screech, Frank peeled out and
skidded in the wrong direction. He smacked the steering wheel in frustration and
took a deep breath
*************
as Grayson shoved open the building's wide glass doors.
"You're not getting away, Arazia!" Grayson sang happily, opening
the door to one of the company cars and quickly starting the engine. It was a
sleek black Benz, his favorite of the rental lot. Backing up with perfection,
he shot down the dirt pathway, knocking up a huge cloud of dust in his wake.
Grayson pulled out his cell phone and hit the #6 on his speed dial.
"Janet!" he shouted into the phone.
She answered immediately on the other line. "Yes, sir?"
"There's been a crisis," Grayson said. "Frank and I will
both be leaving for a short while. In our absence, I want you to hand over command
to our new friend, Mr. Darcouver. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir!" Janet replied obediently.
Grayson hung up with a sharp click, excited to focus back on his game.
"You're a feisty one, Arazia," he murmured with glee. "And
you will be taken out in the feistiest of ways."
Grayson watched Frank's tiny Geo speed down the road. It was no match against
Grayson's machine, and in a straight race like this, it would only be a matter
of time.
Suddenly, Frank swerved off the pathway into the oil fields, tires
rolling wildly over the dusty plains. The car was jostled down a small hill, where
it continued over the barren wasteland ahead of him.
"There's nowhere to run, Arazia!" Grayson called out. "You're
my prey now."
Next: Lose the Illusion
