"That's probably why they'll never catch dad. He turns the mundane into gold, as he says, when he was dropping from thr billions to millions he married his old partner's widow. Back to billions. She deserves better than what happened."
Nate smiled thinly and placed a few more that seemed out of place but not too much. He didn't know what to think of Heather other than she was an angel sent to him.
"As if, I got a call from an agent saying they found an email from my dad in the spam folder. I'm supposed to go in an hour," Kenna nodded. "Suppose I'll take care of bills then and sleep later."
Tonight was the last night of a long shift before her better day job. Work and work...that offer was growing more tempting.
Jesse knew she would call. Why? He was just that charming. No, he believed she would rather die than work with or for him, but in times like these nothing was certain.
He had already been in the gym of his apartment complex and had just gotten out of the shower when his phone rang. With a towel around his hips he answered. "Miss me already?" he couldn't help asking with a smirk.
There was something very charming when he was actually sober and happy. It gave him a look of life he had sort of lost in all this. She couldn't help smiling back at him as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I highly doubt that the company is still there. If I was going to steal that kind of money, I wouldn't be flying legally," she pointed out, sorry to spoil the mood slightly but nodded, "Finances are a tricky thing. Even bosses usually can't handle it, which is why they have CFOs." She turned to the rest of the invoices in her box, but there didn't seem to be anything else. "This one seems empty of clues. Maybe the next one," she said as she turned to the next box. Still, all he while she sorted through the papers she kept on the lookout for anything that might be interesting for her story.
The bastard was trying to pay her off for whatever reason. Kenna pocketed the card anyway knowing that he'd be the death of her and the latent memories.
In the morning when she had been half asleep there came the call about her e-mail. She groaned and almost tripped over the small dresser to find that card. Her dad got the ultimate revenge, after all.
Nate took the paper from her hand and read it over. This was a week before they disappeared with twenty million dollars.
"That's it. Let's see what else got lost in the invoices," Nate grinned to her. He would have kissed her if he could without being slapped with a harassment charge.
"Sounds like you know that from experience," Heather couldn't help remarking as she nodded and took another box so she could sift through the content. This felt like a needle in the haystack kind of work, but what else could she do?
Most of the things she saw seemed harmless enough, though at one point she paused. "How does a small amount of money that was clearly meant to be hidden going to some company near an airfield sound? she asked, holding it up. It was should never have fallen into the company documents, but somehow it had. She doubted that the company would tell them anything and had likely already packed up shop by now.
That was clearly a sore point. Jesse looked around. "You have a bar where you scrub everything like it's an Olympic sport?" he asked, knowing that this wasn't exactly a dream most people would consider.
Finishing writing on the card, he held it out to her. "I was serious though. Work for me. You could do a lot better than this and I'm not buying that you don't want to know," he simply said as he handed her the card and got up himself, "My number is on the back as well as a starting wage. Call me." It was likely more than she made here in several months. With that he left, curious to know when she might call him. Perhaps he could visit her mother. Could be interesting.
"This is a round the time when shit started to hit the fan. Maybe we'll find a clue here before the others do." Nate took the first box. He hadn't gotten word from the FBI yet and didn't think that he would soon.
"Anything that stands out place right here. People, money some, locations...anything."
Kenna crossed her arms. She stood up suddenly and shook her head. "I need to get back to work. Go talk to her yourself. I don't do anything with her and especially that sperm donor. This is what I have."
In a day she was facing demons she locked away. "If you don't want anything else. Just...go."
Jesse gave a smirk at her response. "Don't worry, I'm sure I'll find out eventually," he mused, watching her closely. It was curious that she seemed in a way content right now, despite this place.
It wasn't much to go on and he had the feeling she was done with story time. "Think there is any way to get her to be more candid?" he asked as he leaned back in his chair. Thoughtfully he pulled out a business card and began to write on the back.
Heather had spent the evening at one of her favorite cafés, which also meant catching up with some friends and colleagues. However, she did leave early enough to get enough shut eye, because she could only imagine what this day would bring.
As she had planned she had arrived earlier than him, prepared coffee and gotten the papers he wanted. "And what will we do in those two hours?" she inquired, noticing his eyes but didn't say anything about it. She bit her tongue not to make a probably pretty terrible joke about how at least they wouldn't have to go to the bottom of the ocean for them. It seemed a little inappropriate given the moment.
Kenna sat down on freshly scrubbed chair. The small triumph rose through her at the clean space she created. It would be trampled and no one would care.
"I'm not telling you. As for the other 'bastards' I don't know. He knew where to find me do many he kept tabs on others to protect his horny ass." Kenna shrugged. "Mom does one thing right: cutting truth."
"Have a good night," Nate nodded and closed the office after them.
He drank with Chinese food last night only to a comfortable buzz where he watched 'The Office' until he fell asleep. He wad poofy eyed in the morning but in better spirits. He requested the papers from the time the money started to disappear.
"We have two hours before I try to convince a partner we're not Titanic."
She had probably said something wrong, considering how curt he had suddenly gotten, but honestly she had the feeling you could only say wrong stuff in this situation. Still, Heather knew not to push. He wasn't a child that she had to take care off.
Nodding, she made a mental note to be here earlier to get on top of things. "Very well, I'll be there. Good night," she replied and made her way out of the office. Perhaps she would go to her favorite cafe to get some work done or get a drink. This was a lot more tiring than she wanted it to be.
Jesse could say he enjoyed a drink or two. By no means was he as bad as Nate but that guy was a lost cause. "Oh, and what bad tendencies do you have?" he asked curiously, though he doubted that she would tell him that.
Listening to what she said, it definitely wasn't much, but he still believed she would be of big help. "Okay, so very flaky. What did your mother mean with showed off his other bastards? You think there are more?" He did notice she ignored his offer for money, which was interesting considering what she was doing now. It made him wonder how she got here.
The roaring longing in his chest for comfort won inside his chest. It was 3:30 and tomorrow all hell would break loose, anyway. He gathered his items trying to not feel like a complete failure.
"I think that's all for today. Be here at six thirty...there's paper work to start going through before thr FBI does. The coffee here is fine. Have a good night, Heather. As for the rumors mums the word."
"I don't drink a lot, actually, I have bad tendencies but know what that shit does to you. I don't have a lot of the information you want. He came in for the first time when I was sixteen and paid off child support. I saw him for only the summers to be shown off and I told him to fuck off when I turned 18."
She ignored the offer of money. She'd make it- always did. "There eas an argument when I was 17 and mom said if showed off his other bastards."
Jesse couldn't help wondering how much it likely pained her to agree with him on something. "Exactly. And what we need is Nancy Drew and not higher powers," he agreed, glad she seemed to be getting more on board with the idea.
He watched her put away her cleaning supplies, wondering what she would say. Hearing what she said, he couldn't help a smirk. "How about a drink now?" he suggested, motioning towards an empty booth, "I'm thinking we follow the money aided by your information. Of course, I would be more than willing to pay you for your services." He was aware how that last part sounded, but he couldn't help it. It was clear she needed the money, judging by the work she was doing here.
Heather didn't flinch as he accused her of getting filled in. She continued to look level-headed at him. With a smile he looked damn handsome. "Don't receptionists always know things before everyone else?" she couldn't help musing, "I mean, I've worked here for a bit. I have heard some of it." Naturally not as much as she had heard today.
Nodding, she began to turn towards the door. "And, is it really as bad as the rumors say?" she asked carefully, "Anything I can help you with?" She may as well try to help him while she can.
Kenna eyed him for a moment and nodded. "Point taken. Usually, people turn to higher powers in this case instead of playing Nancy Drew."
She placed the cleaning supplies back in the closet and walked back out. "I'm taking ten, Sal!" She called out and walked over to him and sighed. "Alright, I'll bite, what are you thinking? Along the lines of the situation."
"Bullshit. Marcy was filling you in on what's happening around here. She knows things before I do. I don't blame you, though, I'd want to know, too." Nate said taking the coffee with a smile. "There isn't much left to do today except for a few calls. Wait for tomorrow for everything to explode."
Heather could understand these people too well. Heck, wasn't like she was making the big bucks at the paper. "That would be asking too much. Probably haven't given him pretty eyes enough," she replied, rolling her eyes to make it clear she wasn't enjoying the situation. This whole family was convoluted.
By the time Nate had finished his calls, Heather had gotten back to her desk, getting some work done. Once she was sure he had finished, she got some water, aspirin and a list of of two people that had tried to reach him. "It was fairly uneventful out there," she said as she placed the things before him. God, he looked absolutely terrible right now. She gave him a soft smile, though she doubted that would solve any of his problems.
"I don't want to cover up what they did. They can go to hell. I want to keep that company, along with all of its employees running. Think of me what you will, but I won't let thousands of people go," Jesse told her, not backing down. She was the first genuine lead that he had.
He gave her a smirk at the suggestion." Do you rally believe the feds will be that thorough? They will use the way if least resistance. What we need are ideas like yours with your knowledge of your father and his... indiscretions. I think you could help more than you even know." She was smart too. He didn't quite understand why she was working here.
"That's what we thought. This bitch gets a condo and he hasn't raised our wages in three years." The woman tapped her long nails. She nodded and webt back to work behind the desk with the phone calls.
Nate finished the calls after an hour. By then his headache grew tenfold and the real need for a drink cut at him. Nate drank, Jesse with a sex addiction, and dad compulsive spender.
"I'm not going to prison so you can cover up what your step-dad and my sperm did." Kenna pointed a finger at him. "People are looking at it. Even the phone and e-mail records. What should be done is see if any of the kids he wouldn't pay for got a anything."
Kenna hated that the past she hid from came to the surface. "Or my mom."
"Do I look like I leave out a party? Trust me, I have walked out of such stalls before," Jesse told her, there having been a time in his life where he had enjoyed parties of lower budget which people couldn't buy an entire house from, "Your favorite holiday is St. Patrick's Day?" That was an interesting tidbit.
Taking a sip of his beer, he looked to her. "I'm here to talk, like I've wanted to all along," he said, "I'm sure you also want to know why you were suddenly 'gifted' with that much money. I'm offering you the opportunity to find out." He needed her cooperation for this to work. Sure, he could theoretically hack her accounts but that hardly seemed like a good idea with how the feds are looking at them right now.
This was why you needed to get up close and personal with these matters. No one would ever tell a stranger this, but gossip between employees was harmless. Heather gave an impressed whistle. "A condo. I can barely cover my rent," she said, which was true, depending on the month.
However, this also made it harder. She wasn't a monster, hell bent on destroying people. She knew people were interested in this, but it would also ruin lives. Either way, she couldn't pull the trigger on this yet. She needed more information and if she published this now it would blow her cover. "Oh, and what wager is that? Maybe I should get in on it," she said, though the idea of wagering on when a man would fall of the deep end made her feel sick, "I should probably start heading back with the coffee before he wonders if I got lost or something." It was valuable information that she got though.
"Have you ever walked out of a stall on St. Patrick's Day?" Kenna rose an eyebrow at him. Someone dressed like him didn't belong in East Village. "It's enough to ruin my favorite holiday. What do you want, Jesse? I'm working here."
She gave into the temptations of her OCD and scrubbed harder on a stain on the wood. Nothing came out but she felt better.
"Like really expensive. I heard Mr. Powell got her a condo in Manhattan," the woman said. "Now it's mostly shaking and snapping. I have a wager when he goes off the deep end."
Clearly the Powell's didn't want this published but the secrets were in the open.
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