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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statements.
Author’s note: In this section, a rape occurs. I don’t bother describing it in any detail, it was included for dramatic content and is no way meant to be gratuitous.
Hostile Environment
Chapter 3
By Callisto
Trask Enterprises
Seattle, WA
A few days later, immediately after the lunch hour, Jarod was passing by the pleasantly appointed lunchroom when he heard snipits of a conversation which caused him to change direction. He entered the room which would have been stark if it weren’t for the long and comfortable-looking couch, several matching large lounge chairs and a fully stocked kitchen, complete with tables and appliances. In a corner next to the payphone, Jarod spotted the two speakers he overheard. He walked over to the cold drink vending machine and slid in a few coins to purchase some bottled water. The other two looked at Jarod questioningly, wondering if they had been caught talking out of turn. They suspended their conversation and stared at their supervisor’s back. Once Jarod had retrieved the water, he turned and walked to the door. Instead of walking through, he pulled the door closed and gazed at his two colleagues.
“I’m not sure if you realize this but anyone passing by could hear your conversation. Now, I’m curious to know if you were doing this on purpose or were just being careless?” He asked with a mildly disapproving air.
“I apologize Mr. Muir. I guess I was a bit too wrapped up in our discussion and didn’t realize I had raised my voice. And you’re right, this isn’t the appropriate place to discuss this topic,” Remington, the administrative assistant Jarod shared with Gareth, admitted.
Jarod nodded thoughtfully at the two men, staring at each for a few seconds before continuing. “Well, it just so happens that I’m interested in what you were saying. I met Mrs. Trask for the first time about a month ago and I couldn’t help but notice she seemed very nervous around her husband. Any ideas why?”
“Aside from the fact the boss likes to beat the living crap out of her, no I haven’t a clue,” Benson, who had been talking to Remington, blurted out disgustedly. Remington shot his friend a sharp look, urging the other man to shut up.
Jarod caught the silent exchange and arranging his features into an expression first of shock then sorrow he replied, “I admire Gareth for all the good things he has been doing for the environment but beating on a woman is reprehensible. I wish there was something that could be done to help Mrs. Trask.”
Jarod’s chivalrous comment surprised both men. They were under the impression, just as Karen, that Gareth commanded all his loyalty. The other two men looked at him warily. They knew their overheard comments could get them fired with prejudice and neither wanted to dig the hole they found themselves in any deeper. Jarod understood their sudden reticence and to prod them into being more explicit, he said, “Maybe your right, Remington; there’s nothing any of us can do to help her. But standing by somehow doesn’t seem right.” This was the point Benson had been trying to make with his friend when Jarod interrupted them.
“My point exactly!” Benson exclaimed triumphantly.
“So, Genius, what’s your plan?” Remington asked his friend with heavy sarcasm.
For a few seconds, Jarod thought Remington was talking to him until he noticed the chastened expression on Benson’s face. “How long has this been going on?” Jarod inquired, interrupting the budding argument.
“It’s been going on with increasing frequency for the past few years,” Remington replied, his wariness lessening, as his former disgust with his employer’s behavior resurfaced. “Did you notice his knuckles this morning? They were red and scraped up as if he had been punching someone. That’s a pattern with him. It took me a while to catch on because I never see Mrs. Trask for several days when he comes to work with his hands in that condition.”
“What made you believe the reason for the abrasions on his knuckles to be from beating his wife?” Jarod asked with increasing curiosity.
Warming to the subject and sensing they had just discovered a kindred spirit, Benson answered for this friend. “Mrs. Trask is in charge of company publicity. Whenever Mr. Trask comes in looking relaxed and at ease, she usually takes a few days off then comes into the office looking haggard and walking stiffly. At first I thought she was lit but after comparing notes with Remington, we put two and two together.”
“‘Lit’ how?” Jarod asked suddenly confused.
Benson looked thoroughly bemused at Jarod when Remington clarified the slang. “He means she acted like she was drunk but no one ever smelled alcohol on her breath and she didn’t have the typical morning after symptoms of a headache or sensitivity to loud sounds that comes from a night of drinking too much.”
“Oh, I see. Yes, well thanks for telling me about what is going on around here. I know I’m the new guy but you don’t have to worry about this discussion going any further. Only in the future, try not to have this type of discussion in front of an open door,” Jarod advised with a troubled smile. He then left the room deciding that he needed more tangible proof as a small germ of an idea on how to get it was forming in his mind.
For several days, Jarod continued to work and spy on the couple surreptitiously. In less than a week, he understood their routines and habits. In two weeks, he had broken into the Trask residence, easily circumventing the alarm system every night and spied on the couple. What he learned was distastefully depressing. Dinner seemed to be the established time for Gareth to vent his wrath verbally on his wife. He spoke with arrogant eruditeness; his every word expressing some form of animus towards his wife. His face held a twisted look of sadistic pleasure as Elena’s down turned gaze and silent acquiescence fed the small, greedy gnome of his ego. Jarod’s eyes narrowed at this display of cruelty and now he regretted having helped Gareth at all.
At the end of the workweek, Jarod took a late lunch when he knew both Gareth and Elena would be at the office. Jarod arrived at their house wearing overalls with the logo of the local cable company embossed across the back. The work van he rented looked convincing as he pulled up to the curb and walked confidently through the back yard of a neighbor who had a similar work schedule.
He quickly gained entry and set to work placing small cameras discreetly around the living room and dining room. He then wired the main camera seated under the top, decorative ledge of the dining room console giving a commanding view of the room. Sound equipment had been distributed around the house, in almost every room along with a camera, excluding the bathrooms and bedroom.
Once he was done, Jarod returned to his work truck and activated the cameras. Each one was working and well hidden to avoid casual discovery. When he was finally satisfied with his efforts, Jarod left the neighborhood as anonymously as he entered it.
It didn’t take long for the cameras to record an ugly scene between husband and wife. Late one evening, Jarod watched what his cameras had taped earlier while he was stuck in a brain storming meeting with managers from research and development—a meeting Gareth chose to leave in Jarod’s capable hands since he left to go home early. Jarod’s horror turned into white hot fury as Gareth pushed, punched then raped his wife on their living room table as the result of an argument he started. When Gareth was finished sexually assaulting his wife, he leaned over into her face and blamed her for forcing him to hurt her. He then ordered his aching, silently sobbing spouse upstairs to clean herself up.
Jarod checked to make sure his main tape and back up continued to record the now quiet house. The time had now arrived for the second half of his plan to be implemented. It was necessary for him to perform several calming exercises he developed to clear and sharpen his mind after watching the tape.
Trask Enterprises
Seattle, WA
Two days later, Jarod arrived several minutes late to work in the morning. He had been busy coordinating the part of his plan involving Karen to insure Elena would have a close friend nearby to assist her in picking up the pieces of her shattered life. He hurried into his office with a distracted air, failing to notice the comically widened eyes and non-verbal signals from Remington. Jarod walked into his office to retrieve a folder containing the financial prospectus research and development had asked for a couple nights before.
“It’s about time you showed up. I was beginning to think that you had decided on leaving without giving any notice,” Gareth intoned sardonically. He was looking particularly fit and radiant that morning. Resplendent in his $15,000.00 suit and sporting a cocky, overly-confidant smirk, Jarod watched his employer’s eyes and knew the man thought he had somehow gotten the upper hand over his brainier subordinate. Jarod forced an anxious look onto his face to cover the anger growing inside when he noticed the item Gareth had in his hands. The wave of self-disgust over having left a personal item behind in his desk was hastily pushed into the background of his mind.
“I apologize. There were matters of a personal nature that demanded my attention this morning. May I ask why you have that in your hand?” He asked nodding his head towards the photograph Gareth kept fondling. “I thought I had locked that item in my desk.”
“Oh, you did. I got bored waiting for you and started poking around. However I assure you the drawer I found this in wasn’t locked. You must introduce me to your friend sometime. She’s quite a looker.” Gareth rose from Jarod’s office chair with the self-satisfied smile rooted firmly on his face and walked around the desk. “There is an update meeting tonight. I need you to fill me in on the first meeting to bring me up to speed.”
“Of course. Unfortunately, I will be unable to attend the update meeting. I have already informed Mr. Bates and will give him the prospectus he needs for the meeting.”
Tapping Jarod on the chest with the picture. “Cancel the date, I’m sure she won’t mind waiting up for you,” Gareth replied as his eyes and voice hardened. “We have important issues to discuss—before and after the meeting.”
“Since you insist and I believe you should be aware of some disturbing scuttlebutt I’ve heard about you floating around the office,” Jarod replied with a tiny smile, slipping the photo from Gareth’s fingers.
Gareth was aware of what the office gossips whispered about him. They thought his propensity to vent his anger and frustrations on his wife as a weakness. He had proven them wrong once and he would prove this insolent pretty boy wrong also. “Then we’re all set, see you later.”
Jarod watched Gareth walk away and leave the office. Looking down at the photo in his hands, Jarod glanced at the surveillance photo he had taken of his personal huntress. It had been taken several weeks ago while she was searching his prior lair, during a time when he had been experiencing his own particularly distressing moment of weakness. The photo showed off the subject to her most beautiful advantage. Had Gareth looked back he would have noticed the angry, predatory expression that readily slipped onto Jarod’s face once he had finished his convincing bit of play acting.
Jarod walked over to his desk and dropping into an effortless squat stared at the faint striations a sharp edged blade made as a result of popping open the lock on his desk. Remington walked into the office, momentarily confused that it appeared empty. The noise of Jarod opening the tampered drawer drew Remington’s attention.
“Geez, man, I was trying to warn you about Trask being in here but you sped passed me without a glance. What are you doing?”
“Tell me, do you know if Gareth carries a knife of any sort? Perhaps a switchblade?”
“Yeah, he carries a butterfly knife. He likes to flick it open to impress his minions in the warehouse. How did you know that?”
“The marks he left behind on this desk drawer had to have been made by a very sharp blade,” Jarod said thoughtfully as he slowly stood upright.
“Judging by the way he plays with it, I would hazard to guess that he knows how to use it too. Jarod be careful, he was fuming when he came in here looking for you. He’s a dangerous man to cross,” Remington stated solemnly.
Smiling his thanks at Remington’s warning, Jarod answered, “I know a thing or two about how to take care of myself, especially with someone like Gareth.” Once Remington left his office, Jarod pulled open his middle desk drawer and realized the bait he had intended on setting out, had in fact been taken after all. Gareth found the earring that Elena had left at Karen’s house several weeks before. When Karen handed over the earring a few days ago, the look of worried uncertainty darkened her eyes; he had asked for any personal item belonging to Elena that she had in her possession which Gareth would recognize. Jarod cursed himself for leaving the photo in his office but smiled when he thought of Gareth’s reaction if he ever tried to tangle with that particular tigress.
For the next few hours, Jarod placed a number of phone calls on his cell phone. First he spoke to the Lieutenant in charge of domestic violence at Seattle’s police department. Then he had a quick chat with Nick, one of his stevedore friends, to insure that he would be free to show up at the agreed upon spot with the others. He also coordinated his timing with another dock worker he befriended, named Kevin, to make sure his planned encounter would be video taped.
When he was fairly certain that everything was in place, Jarod sat back in his chair and hurriedly glanced at his watch. Matthews from the IRS, who assisted in the original sting operation, should have just received the data CD containing the evidence Jarod painstakingly gathered over the last few days. Evidence so damaging that he suspected the government agency would drag its feet for several days before acting, since the end result would be a conviction culminating in a lengthy penitentiary sentence. The bank accounts and new identity were set up and ready. Several well established protocols in Gareth’s personal finances had been subtly changed in such a manner that the effects wouldn’t be felt until months later when his attorney’s fees came due. There were still several hours before his plan would begin. Jarod pulled out his usual red notebook and shook his head sadly at the last newspaper articles he had included. This was one clue he didn’t want falling into the hands of the Centre.
Canalis restaurant
Seattle, WA
Lunch turned out to be a subdued affair. Karen confirmed that she had convinced Elena to spend the night with her since Gareth was expected to be at the office late into the night. Jarod nodded thoughtfully and picked at his salad. Karen noticing his distracted and depressed mood she looked at her companion carefully.
“So, tell. Who is she?” Karen asked with a rueful smile.
“I’m sorry, who are you talking about?”
“Her. The girlfriend you’re so pensive about. The expression on your face seems to say the poor girl will wake up one day and wonder what the heck ever happened to inspire you to take a hike without a word and never come back.
Smiling indulgently at her, Jarod leaned back in his chair and gazed amusedly at Karen. “That’s a something I could never imagine happening with Zoë. We share something special that can’t be easily encapsulated in just a few sentences.”
“Ah, I get it. You have one of those open relationships but she’s not the one I’m talking about. Your voice and demeanor changed entirely when you thought I was speaking of Zoë, so this gal must be someone else all together. I’m a good listener if you need someone objective to talk to.”
“You’re very observant. I would have thought that level of scrutiny and insight to be limited to criminal profilers and psychiatrists,” he replied with a light touch of haughtiness.
Laughing easily, Karen held up her hands in mock surrender. “Simmer down there, mister, no need to get defensive. I was just trying to be a friend.”
“Sorry, I tend to get a bit testy on some subjects,” he replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“She must be someone special, I’m sorry and congratulations.”
“Why congratulations?”
“From the look on you face, it’s obvious that she is someone worth loving. You’ve found someone who is your ultimate match, a mate. You understand and compliment each other in a way no one else can comprehend. How’s that for perception?” she asked with a poignant smirk.
“Not bad,” he said staring at her thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll bite, why ‘sorry’?”
Averting her eyes from his penetrating gaze, she took a long drink of water. Setting the glass down gently and staring at the wet ring it left on the tablecloth she paused to gather her thoughts. “I’m really guessing now but here goes. She is either married or so encumbered that her situation has inspired your depression. Confront her, try not to give up until your certain that’s you’re only option, then at least you’ll be able to live with yourself when you finally walk away. Burying your love while it’s still alive tends to necrotize the rest of your emotions.”
A heavy silence followed her observations. Jarod’s eyes finally returned to his dinner companion and he immediately started going over her role in his plans for Gareth. He refocused his thoughts on the problem at hand recalling the CD he had mailed with the details of the two accounts he had left unmolested for the IRS to find. Accounts Gareth had used to funnel skimmed, untaxed company funds. The charges wouldn’t be elaborate, but would preoccupy Gareth long enough to give Elena the much needed time to sever ties to anything having to do with him. Jarod gave Karen the name of the banker for Elena to contact once she felt stronger and was finally free from the tyranny of her husband’s violent insecurities.
Author’s note: In this section, a rape occurs. I don’t bother describing it in any detail, it was included for dramatic content and is no way meant to be gratuitous.
Hostile Environment
Chapter 3
By Callisto
Trask Enterprises
Seattle, WA
A few days later, immediately after the lunch hour, Jarod was passing by the pleasantly appointed lunchroom when he heard snipits of a conversation which caused him to change direction. He entered the room which would have been stark if it weren’t for the long and comfortable-looking couch, several matching large lounge chairs and a fully stocked kitchen, complete with tables and appliances. In a corner next to the payphone, Jarod spotted the two speakers he overheard. He walked over to the cold drink vending machine and slid in a few coins to purchase some bottled water. The other two looked at Jarod questioningly, wondering if they had been caught talking out of turn. They suspended their conversation and stared at their supervisor’s back. Once Jarod had retrieved the water, he turned and walked to the door. Instead of walking through, he pulled the door closed and gazed at his two colleagues.
“I’m not sure if you realize this but anyone passing by could hear your conversation. Now, I’m curious to know if you were doing this on purpose or were just being careless?” He asked with a mildly disapproving air.
“I apologize Mr. Muir. I guess I was a bit too wrapped up in our discussion and didn’t realize I had raised my voice. And you’re right, this isn’t the appropriate place to discuss this topic,” Remington, the administrative assistant Jarod shared with Gareth, admitted.
Jarod nodded thoughtfully at the two men, staring at each for a few seconds before continuing. “Well, it just so happens that I’m interested in what you were saying. I met Mrs. Trask for the first time about a month ago and I couldn’t help but notice she seemed very nervous around her husband. Any ideas why?”
“Aside from the fact the boss likes to beat the living crap out of her, no I haven’t a clue,” Benson, who had been talking to Remington, blurted out disgustedly. Remington shot his friend a sharp look, urging the other man to shut up.
Jarod caught the silent exchange and arranging his features into an expression first of shock then sorrow he replied, “I admire Gareth for all the good things he has been doing for the environment but beating on a woman is reprehensible. I wish there was something that could be done to help Mrs. Trask.”
Jarod’s chivalrous comment surprised both men. They were under the impression, just as Karen, that Gareth commanded all his loyalty. The other two men looked at him warily. They knew their overheard comments could get them fired with prejudice and neither wanted to dig the hole they found themselves in any deeper. Jarod understood their sudden reticence and to prod them into being more explicit, he said, “Maybe your right, Remington; there’s nothing any of us can do to help her. But standing by somehow doesn’t seem right.” This was the point Benson had been trying to make with his friend when Jarod interrupted them.
“My point exactly!” Benson exclaimed triumphantly.
“So, Genius, what’s your plan?” Remington asked his friend with heavy sarcasm.
For a few seconds, Jarod thought Remington was talking to him until he noticed the chastened expression on Benson’s face. “How long has this been going on?” Jarod inquired, interrupting the budding argument.
“It’s been going on with increasing frequency for the past few years,” Remington replied, his wariness lessening, as his former disgust with his employer’s behavior resurfaced. “Did you notice his knuckles this morning? They were red and scraped up as if he had been punching someone. That’s a pattern with him. It took me a while to catch on because I never see Mrs. Trask for several days when he comes to work with his hands in that condition.”
“What made you believe the reason for the abrasions on his knuckles to be from beating his wife?” Jarod asked with increasing curiosity.
Warming to the subject and sensing they had just discovered a kindred spirit, Benson answered for this friend. “Mrs. Trask is in charge of company publicity. Whenever Mr. Trask comes in looking relaxed and at ease, she usually takes a few days off then comes into the office looking haggard and walking stiffly. At first I thought she was lit but after comparing notes with Remington, we put two and two together.”
“‘Lit’ how?” Jarod asked suddenly confused.
Benson looked thoroughly bemused at Jarod when Remington clarified the slang. “He means she acted like she was drunk but no one ever smelled alcohol on her breath and she didn’t have the typical morning after symptoms of a headache or sensitivity to loud sounds that comes from a night of drinking too much.”
“Oh, I see. Yes, well thanks for telling me about what is going on around here. I know I’m the new guy but you don’t have to worry about this discussion going any further. Only in the future, try not to have this type of discussion in front of an open door,” Jarod advised with a troubled smile. He then left the room deciding that he needed more tangible proof as a small germ of an idea on how to get it was forming in his mind.
For several days, Jarod continued to work and spy on the couple surreptitiously. In less than a week, he understood their routines and habits. In two weeks, he had broken into the Trask residence, easily circumventing the alarm system every night and spied on the couple. What he learned was distastefully depressing. Dinner seemed to be the established time for Gareth to vent his wrath verbally on his wife. He spoke with arrogant eruditeness; his every word expressing some form of animus towards his wife. His face held a twisted look of sadistic pleasure as Elena’s down turned gaze and silent acquiescence fed the small, greedy gnome of his ego. Jarod’s eyes narrowed at this display of cruelty and now he regretted having helped Gareth at all.
At the end of the workweek, Jarod took a late lunch when he knew both Gareth and Elena would be at the office. Jarod arrived at their house wearing overalls with the logo of the local cable company embossed across the back. The work van he rented looked convincing as he pulled up to the curb and walked confidently through the back yard of a neighbor who had a similar work schedule.
He quickly gained entry and set to work placing small cameras discreetly around the living room and dining room. He then wired the main camera seated under the top, decorative ledge of the dining room console giving a commanding view of the room. Sound equipment had been distributed around the house, in almost every room along with a camera, excluding the bathrooms and bedroom.
Once he was done, Jarod returned to his work truck and activated the cameras. Each one was working and well hidden to avoid casual discovery. When he was finally satisfied with his efforts, Jarod left the neighborhood as anonymously as he entered it.
It didn’t take long for the cameras to record an ugly scene between husband and wife. Late one evening, Jarod watched what his cameras had taped earlier while he was stuck in a brain storming meeting with managers from research and development—a meeting Gareth chose to leave in Jarod’s capable hands since he left to go home early. Jarod’s horror turned into white hot fury as Gareth pushed, punched then raped his wife on their living room table as the result of an argument he started. When Gareth was finished sexually assaulting his wife, he leaned over into her face and blamed her for forcing him to hurt her. He then ordered his aching, silently sobbing spouse upstairs to clean herself up.
Jarod checked to make sure his main tape and back up continued to record the now quiet house. The time had now arrived for the second half of his plan to be implemented. It was necessary for him to perform several calming exercises he developed to clear and sharpen his mind after watching the tape.
Trask Enterprises
Seattle, WA
Two days later, Jarod arrived several minutes late to work in the morning. He had been busy coordinating the part of his plan involving Karen to insure Elena would have a close friend nearby to assist her in picking up the pieces of her shattered life. He hurried into his office with a distracted air, failing to notice the comically widened eyes and non-verbal signals from Remington. Jarod walked into his office to retrieve a folder containing the financial prospectus research and development had asked for a couple nights before.
“It’s about time you showed up. I was beginning to think that you had decided on leaving without giving any notice,” Gareth intoned sardonically. He was looking particularly fit and radiant that morning. Resplendent in his $15,000.00 suit and sporting a cocky, overly-confidant smirk, Jarod watched his employer’s eyes and knew the man thought he had somehow gotten the upper hand over his brainier subordinate. Jarod forced an anxious look onto his face to cover the anger growing inside when he noticed the item Gareth had in his hands. The wave of self-disgust over having left a personal item behind in his desk was hastily pushed into the background of his mind.
“I apologize. There were matters of a personal nature that demanded my attention this morning. May I ask why you have that in your hand?” He asked nodding his head towards the photograph Gareth kept fondling. “I thought I had locked that item in my desk.”
“Oh, you did. I got bored waiting for you and started poking around. However I assure you the drawer I found this in wasn’t locked. You must introduce me to your friend sometime. She’s quite a looker.” Gareth rose from Jarod’s office chair with the self-satisfied smile rooted firmly on his face and walked around the desk. “There is an update meeting tonight. I need you to fill me in on the first meeting to bring me up to speed.”
“Of course. Unfortunately, I will be unable to attend the update meeting. I have already informed Mr. Bates and will give him the prospectus he needs for the meeting.”
Tapping Jarod on the chest with the picture. “Cancel the date, I’m sure she won’t mind waiting up for you,” Gareth replied as his eyes and voice hardened. “We have important issues to discuss—before and after the meeting.”
“Since you insist and I believe you should be aware of some disturbing scuttlebutt I’ve heard about you floating around the office,” Jarod replied with a tiny smile, slipping the photo from Gareth’s fingers.
Gareth was aware of what the office gossips whispered about him. They thought his propensity to vent his anger and frustrations on his wife as a weakness. He had proven them wrong once and he would prove this insolent pretty boy wrong also. “Then we’re all set, see you later.”
Jarod watched Gareth walk away and leave the office. Looking down at the photo in his hands, Jarod glanced at the surveillance photo he had taken of his personal huntress. It had been taken several weeks ago while she was searching his prior lair, during a time when he had been experiencing his own particularly distressing moment of weakness. The photo showed off the subject to her most beautiful advantage. Had Gareth looked back he would have noticed the angry, predatory expression that readily slipped onto Jarod’s face once he had finished his convincing bit of play acting.
Jarod walked over to his desk and dropping into an effortless squat stared at the faint striations a sharp edged blade made as a result of popping open the lock on his desk. Remington walked into the office, momentarily confused that it appeared empty. The noise of Jarod opening the tampered drawer drew Remington’s attention.
“Geez, man, I was trying to warn you about Trask being in here but you sped passed me without a glance. What are you doing?”
“Tell me, do you know if Gareth carries a knife of any sort? Perhaps a switchblade?”
“Yeah, he carries a butterfly knife. He likes to flick it open to impress his minions in the warehouse. How did you know that?”
“The marks he left behind on this desk drawer had to have been made by a very sharp blade,” Jarod said thoughtfully as he slowly stood upright.
“Judging by the way he plays with it, I would hazard to guess that he knows how to use it too. Jarod be careful, he was fuming when he came in here looking for you. He’s a dangerous man to cross,” Remington stated solemnly.
Smiling his thanks at Remington’s warning, Jarod answered, “I know a thing or two about how to take care of myself, especially with someone like Gareth.” Once Remington left his office, Jarod pulled open his middle desk drawer and realized the bait he had intended on setting out, had in fact been taken after all. Gareth found the earring that Elena had left at Karen’s house several weeks before. When Karen handed over the earring a few days ago, the look of worried uncertainty darkened her eyes; he had asked for any personal item belonging to Elena that she had in her possession which Gareth would recognize. Jarod cursed himself for leaving the photo in his office but smiled when he thought of Gareth’s reaction if he ever tried to tangle with that particular tigress.
For the next few hours, Jarod placed a number of phone calls on his cell phone. First he spoke to the Lieutenant in charge of domestic violence at Seattle’s police department. Then he had a quick chat with Nick, one of his stevedore friends, to insure that he would be free to show up at the agreed upon spot with the others. He also coordinated his timing with another dock worker he befriended, named Kevin, to make sure his planned encounter would be video taped.
When he was fairly certain that everything was in place, Jarod sat back in his chair and hurriedly glanced at his watch. Matthews from the IRS, who assisted in the original sting operation, should have just received the data CD containing the evidence Jarod painstakingly gathered over the last few days. Evidence so damaging that he suspected the government agency would drag its feet for several days before acting, since the end result would be a conviction culminating in a lengthy penitentiary sentence. The bank accounts and new identity were set up and ready. Several well established protocols in Gareth’s personal finances had been subtly changed in such a manner that the effects wouldn’t be felt until months later when his attorney’s fees came due. There were still several hours before his plan would begin. Jarod pulled out his usual red notebook and shook his head sadly at the last newspaper articles he had included. This was one clue he didn’t want falling into the hands of the Centre.
Canalis restaurant
Seattle, WA
Lunch turned out to be a subdued affair. Karen confirmed that she had convinced Elena to spend the night with her since Gareth was expected to be at the office late into the night. Jarod nodded thoughtfully and picked at his salad. Karen noticing his distracted and depressed mood she looked at her companion carefully.
“So, tell. Who is she?” Karen asked with a rueful smile.
“I’m sorry, who are you talking about?”
“Her. The girlfriend you’re so pensive about. The expression on your face seems to say the poor girl will wake up one day and wonder what the heck ever happened to inspire you to take a hike without a word and never come back.
Smiling indulgently at her, Jarod leaned back in his chair and gazed amusedly at Karen. “That’s a something I could never imagine happening with Zoë. We share something special that can’t be easily encapsulated in just a few sentences.”
“Ah, I get it. You have one of those open relationships but she’s not the one I’m talking about. Your voice and demeanor changed entirely when you thought I was speaking of Zoë, so this gal must be someone else all together. I’m a good listener if you need someone objective to talk to.”
“You’re very observant. I would have thought that level of scrutiny and insight to be limited to criminal profilers and psychiatrists,” he replied with a light touch of haughtiness.
Laughing easily, Karen held up her hands in mock surrender. “Simmer down there, mister, no need to get defensive. I was just trying to be a friend.”
“Sorry, I tend to get a bit testy on some subjects,” he replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“She must be someone special, I’m sorry and congratulations.”
“Why congratulations?”
“From the look on you face, it’s obvious that she is someone worth loving. You’ve found someone who is your ultimate match, a mate. You understand and compliment each other in a way no one else can comprehend. How’s that for perception?” she asked with a poignant smirk.
“Not bad,” he said staring at her thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll bite, why ‘sorry’?”
Averting her eyes from his penetrating gaze, she took a long drink of water. Setting the glass down gently and staring at the wet ring it left on the tablecloth she paused to gather her thoughts. “I’m really guessing now but here goes. She is either married or so encumbered that her situation has inspired your depression. Confront her, try not to give up until your certain that’s you’re only option, then at least you’ll be able to live with yourself when you finally walk away. Burying your love while it’s still alive tends to necrotize the rest of your emotions.”
A heavy silence followed her observations. Jarod’s eyes finally returned to his dinner companion and he immediately started going over her role in his plans for Gareth. He refocused his thoughts on the problem at hand recalling the CD he had mailed with the details of the two accounts he had left unmolested for the IRS to find. Accounts Gareth had used to funnel skimmed, untaxed company funds. The charges wouldn’t be elaborate, but would preoccupy Gareth long enough to give Elena the much needed time to sever ties to anything having to do with him. Jarod gave Karen the name of the banker for Elena to contact once she felt stronger and was finally free from the tyranny of her husband’s violent insecurities.
