Bats in the Belfry Read online

  The elevator dinged pulling her attention to the slowly opening doors. She wasn’t expecting Mr. Taylor this early since he usually came in around nine, but she stood anyway, prepared for any orders he was about to dish out. When the doors fully opened, out stepped a tall well-dressed man in a black suit, and matching black tie. She’d never seen him here before, and something about his stare which was pinned on her, sent a chill so deep within her spine she secretly wished she had worn a sweater.

  He stood directly in front of her desk, bending to place his briefcase at his feet, before standing erect and passing a hand over his tie. His smile not reaching his steel gray eyes met hers again as he said, “good morning, you must be Lane.”

  Lane blinked before frowning. “A—a yes, I’m Lane and you are?”

  “I’m Sylas, a friend of Garret’s.”

  Her eyes automatically looked down at the appointment book to check for his name. “He’s not here yet. Do you have an appointment because I don’t see you down for a visit today?” she babbled frantically flipping through the pages.

  “I don’t need an appointment he knows I’m coming and knowing him; he’ll be here any minute,” he said, and like clockwork the elevator dinged revealing Garret who briskly exited shoving his cell into his jacket’s pocket.

  When he looked up and found Sylas, he paused briefly looking between him and Lane as if trying to figure out what was going on, before continuing to his office door. “Hold my calls, I’ll take my coffee when he leaves, and Miss Bennett?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Do not disturb,” he said as a cold warning pinning her with a hard look.

  “Yes sir.” She swallowed, taking her seat once again.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you Lane. Love the hair by the way,” Sylas whispered. His wolfish grin threatened her thoughts as he picked up his briefcase and followed behind Mr. Taylor.

  Looking at the two men through the clear glass, she watched as they both took their seats and got into a conversation before the glass frosted grey. The phone on her desk rang snapping her head toward the sound, and when she answered taking the simple call me back message before hanging up, her eyes merely drifted back to the glass. Though she couldn't see a thing, she still tried but quickly gave up, averting her eyes down to her knitted fingers. Grabbing the receiver, she dialed K.C, who picked up after four rings and grumbled. “What the hell, it’s like five in the morning,”

  “Seven thirty actually, wake up!” she yelled into the speaker.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Lane, look remember when I told you about that feeling I had toward my boss. Well it just came double time,” she said taking a peek at the glass.

  “Wait…what are you talking about?”

  She exhaled leaning forward in her chair and placing both elbows on the table. “Listen, there’s a guy here, he’s in with Mr. Taylor right now and he gives me the creeps just as much as he does. They both keep looking at me like I know something that they don’t want me to know. I think something’s going on.”

  “Okay, you need to snoop, “she said more alert now.

  “Snoop how? I don’t know what to do?”

  “Come on Lane I’m sure you’ve snooped on someone in your life before?”

  “Ahhh, no?”

  “Jesus,” she murmured. “Okay, wait till he leaves the office and I mean out the building, in the car halfway across town. Got it?”

  She nodded. “So far.”

  “Once he’s gone, go into his office and look around his desk. Check his draws, his computer—”

  “I can’t check his computer," she said in a panicked whisper.

  “You have too. Major evidence might be on it. Now do you want to know or not?”

  Lane sighed. “Fine. Just so you know I don’t condone this and you should really get help for this problem.”

  “What you call a problem I call a solution. Call me when you find something.” When she hung up, she looked over at the glass that was still frosted. Though slightly panicked, she knew something was going on and she was the only one capable of doing anything about it. She was scared of that man, both men for that matter and she needed to know why.

  Checking the clock on the wall, she noted the time and decided to head to the kitchen to put on a fresh pot of coffee just in case she needed to be quick on the draw when that door opened. As she stood in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew, she begun tapping her nails on the counter, trying to distract her thoughts from what she needed to do. She checked outside the door and heard their footsteps on the tile floor when their voices echoed slightly through the hall. When the light on the coffee maker changed, she popped back in, and poured the steaming hot liquid into his white mug before grabbing the door, but stopped in her tracks.

  ***

  “Okay, so I couldn’t get into his office today because he didn’t leave the office, but get this. I overheard him and that Sylas guy talking in the hallway. I don’t think they knew I was so close to be talking so freely but—”

  “What’d they say?”

  “They were talking about a shipment; three I think, a white and a black and something about still needing the red or something like that. I don’t know what any of that means or what the shipments are, but they were supposed to be delivered to some guy in Hong Kong a couple days ago when something happened causing it to be delayed.”

  “Isn’t Hong Kong where his son went?” K.C said as she placed the bowl of popcorn between them on the couch. Lane was at her apartment again as K.C couldn't wait for the juicy details of the day. They were about to watch a movie.

  When Lane heard Sylas get into the elevator that morning, she waited two minutes before leaving the kitchen with Mr. Taylor's coffee, almost spilling half of it on the way with her nerves. After she’d given it to him, they went through his schedule with him sitting behind his desk, and his chair facing the window. He didn’t look at her not once, which she was grateful for, but seemed slightly odd. “Come to think of it, he is. You think Castell has something to do with this?”

  “We don’t even know what this is, and never rule anything out. Maybe you should find out why he’s there. Find out his schedule and see if there are any red flags.”

  “How the hell do I do that?” Lane asked stuffing a hand full of popcorn into her mouth.

  K.C pressed something on the remote and the TV came on with the opening music already playing. “Do you know his assistant?”

  “No.”

  K.C sighed shaking her head in disappointment. “Lane what do you do at your job? Don’t you make friends with your fellow work mates? Go out and get drinks, talk about what dicks your bosses are? That’s what I did when I was an assistant.”

  “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not that good at making friends.”

  “I’m beginning to notice that yeah.” They both turned toward the TV once again. Lane knew she had to figure out what was going on or else she was never going to move on from this nagging feeling in her gut. And K.C was right, what she didn’t know, someone else just might, and all she needed to do was find the right someone.

  “I guess I could make friends with the other assistants and see what they know.”

  “Good, let’s start there,” she said between chews as the movie started. They sat in silence watching for a while, and even though Lane tried to focus, it was hard with her thoughts drifting all over the place.

  “How’s your mom doing anyway?”

  K.C swallowed gazing blankly at the TV. “She’s…hanging in there. First surgery is on Thursday. Hopefully all goes well. Can we not talk about it since it sorta bums me out,” she said dryly unblinking from the TV like she was reciting it from the screen. They both went silent after that.

  When Lane left her apartment that night, she felt bad for bringing up K.C’s mother knowing what a touchy subject it was for anyone in that position. Just the expression on her face told Lane how it was affecting her even though she badly didn’t
want it to show. It always showed. Lane remembered the face she used to make whenever someone said, ‘I’m so sorry to hear about your mother.’ She and her brother were four when their mother died in a car accident, and even though she couldn’t remember much of the details surrounding it, she still remembered the way she felt knowing her mother was gone.

  She remembered the faces at the church and everyone saying sorry for your loss over and over until she had to cover her ears to drown them out. Her little black dress itched the outside of her legs as she sat in their living room during the wake, watching the dozen or so strangers, and their puffy red eyes with sad looks on their faces.

  Lane listened to the words of Pastor James as he sat in a small group in one corner remembering nice things about a woman everyone saw as beautiful and caring and that God had a plan and knew why he took her so soon. She didn’t get any of it. If God had a plan why couldn’t he take someone else, she thought. Why did his plan have to include her mother and not someone else? Four-year-old Lane never went back to church after that day. Her father tried to take her, and she'd scream to the top of her lungs until he gave up, and left her alone.

  Crawling into bed ten minutes later, she flicked off the lamp and burrowed into her warm pillows closing her eyes. Not long after, a faint yellow light behind her eye lids alerted her of her ringing phone. It was ten thirty and she had no idea who it could be, but as soon as she reached for it and saw the screen with Clifton Psychiatric Clinic in big bold letters, panic immediately set in as her thoughts flew toward her father. “Hello,” she huffed lifting up on one elbow to turn on the lights.

  “Hello,” the voice on the other end whispered, but she couldn’t make it out.

  “Who is this? Is…is something wrong with my dad?” she asked in a panic.

  “Lanie it’s me. You leave for a day and forget about me?”

  A sigh of relief rushed from her lungs when his voice filtered through the panic as clear as day. “Cole, God you scared me.”

  “Sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  She smiled easing her way back onto her pillow. “Wait, how’d you get my number?”

  “Because, I’m a ninja and got mad skills.”

  She chuckled. “Really.”

  “Na, snuck a look at your dad’s file and since you’re his only contact, you were the only number listed.”

  “Very clever. So, tell me. How are you making this call because I know they didn’t just give you the phone to make midnight personal calls.”

  “It’s only ten thirty and what if they did just hand me the phone?”

  “Then you’d be lying.”

  “Okay you got me. Nurse Cora is not as vigilant as Martha when it comes to actually keeping watch of this place. She pretty much falls asleep as the clock strikes ten.”

  “Convenient?”

  “Very. So, tell me, what are you up to on a night like this?”

  She sighed. “I wish I could say I have the most glamorous life, but unfortunately I’ve just crawled into bed and was about to fall asleep.”

  “Alone?”

  She laughed. “I wish there was another way, but since you’re all the way over there, I’m forced to be alone all the way over here.”

  “Good.”

  “Not good at all the way I see it,” she sighed wishing they were having this conversation face to face. “When exactly can I be with you?” she asked.

  “As soon as you come back to visit.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it. When can I actually have you here, in my apartment, in your apartment if you have an apartment, in a bed, together, just me and you?” She heard him sigh before going completely quiet to the point she thought he had hung up. “Cole.”

  “I’m here…I just don’t have any answers for you right now, Lane. I just…can’t”

  “Can’t or won’t”

  “Both. Lane—”

  “No, it’s fine.” It wasn’t, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She had spent so much time alone only to finally find someone, but they were locked away. How ironic.

  “You’re disappointed.”

  “Doesn’t matter." She sighed rolling onto her side.

  “Of course, it matters, Lane,” he said annoyed. “And I wish my answer could be different, but I can’t leave. There’s just… so much I still have to work on before I could call myself healed, before I can be good enough to be…. Anywhere else.”

  “Okay, I get it,” she said hopelessly trying to accept his motives. She couldn’t understand any of it when she didn’t see anything wrong with him. Yes, he had explained his Bipolar and the pills and attempted suicide, but clearly anyone with eyes could see he wasn’t that person anymore. Everyone but him.

  “Lanie don’t be mad,” he said despondently.

  “I’m not mad, I just… hate the situation.”

  “I do too. I wish it were different and I’m sorry for putting you here. I’m selfish, but I couldn’t…just let you go. I told you I loved you from the start and I’ll never be sorry for that,” he whispered dolefully.

  She wanted to be upset, but his words caught her heart and held on tight to every artery, vein, and vessel that made it almost impossible not to say it back. “Neither am I because… I love you too.”

  “I told you it would happen,” he said matter-of-factly with a smile in his tone.

  Closing her eyes, she grinned and shook her head. “Yes, you did. Maybe you can see the future after all.”

  “Oh, now she believes me… I should go,” he whispered.

  “You should, but why are you whispering if Nurse Sleepy over there won’t wake up?”

  “Because I want you to dream about me. Of all the things I’d do to you if I were there. Things like, wrapping you in my arms and holding you till the sun comes up. Kissing your lips and every inch of warm skin my lips could find. Loving you, like I always did… I’ll see you next visit, Lanie.”

  “Next visit, Cole,” she whispered not wanting to say goodbye as the phone clicked and hers fell to the bed.

  Ten

  The next day at lunch, Lane found herself standing at the threshold of the lunch room scanning the floor for a table. Glancing at her watch she inhaled deeply, knowing this would have to be fast since she only had thirty minutes left of her lunch hour, and so far, no possible prospects.

  It had taken her a little more time today to collect Mr. Taylor’s lunch since her car broke down on the way again, forcing her to seek help from a passerby from the local meat market. Mr. Taylor, she thought, who was becoming more and more of a creepy jerk by the day, accepted his lunch fifteen minutes late with a half smile on his face as if trying hard to keep his annoyance at bay. It had been that way since the coffee incident that morning.

  When she went into his office to drop off his coffee, which she placed in its regular spot near his left hand, he genuinely smiled, and thanked her. It was only shortly after had she left, did she realize that he’d called her by her first name. He’d never called her by her first name before. It was always Miss Bennett this or Miss Bennett that, but it wasn’t the fact that he'd used her first name that was alarming, no, it was how he’d said it: all slow and soft in a way that made her want him to say it again. The look he had given didn’t help much either, but because she rarely paid any attention to his face except when it was angry or annoyed, she barely noticed.

  Pulling the door opened, she stepped inside taking in the space and its occupants before deciding on where to go. On her left were a vast array of vending machines each offering different items from sodas, snacks, and even sandwiches, burritos, and hotdogs, which she had never seen in a vending machine before. There were small five seater tables, and windows that looked onto the building next door since they were on the fourth floor.

  Heading for the machines she got a turkey on rye sandwich, and a bottle of water before turning toward the tables. If this were high school, she’d go for the empty table by a window, but instead she walk
ed over to a table that was occupied by three women and a guy. They were all laughing when she approached, making her nervous to butt in the conversation. “Is this seat taken?” Lane gestured to the only empty chair next to the guy and a red head.

  Four sets of eyes glanced at her, and for a minute she swore she was back in high school asking to be rejected. Back then she knew what the answer was, but now she hoped it was different. “You’re Mr. Taylor’s new assistant, aren’t you?” said one of the girls with bright red lips, and thin square glasses.

  “Yes. Lane Bennett.” Using that as an indication to stay, she walked over to the chair and sat, placing her lunch in front of her.

  “What’s he like?” asked another on the other side.

  “Is he anything like Castell?” asked the other female.

  “Guys, guys seriously give the girl some breathing room. Sorry about my ill-mannered friends here, but I’m Elliot. I work in IT floor fifteen. The one stuffing her face with Cheetos is Tiffany.” Tiffany a banged-out brunette, with most of it covering her face, waved then gave Elliot the middle finger. Elliot waved her off with a smile, before reaching for his beeping phone off the table.

  Elliot was your classic nerd in a Clark Kent sort of way. Glasses, an array of colored pens in his shirt pocket, jet black hair slick back to reveal his gorgeous blue eyes. He was handsome, she thought, quickly averting her eyes before he saw her staring at him.

  “I’m Rory, Mr. Trustworthy’ s assistant.” Rory the one with the full red lips, and pixie haircut smiled, giving Lane a glimpse of her pearly whites.

  “And I’m Cortney, Brian’s assistant.” Cortney, also brunette with a thick English accent, had a dreamy look in her eyes when she said the name Brian, which gave Lane the impression that they were an item.

  “You really need to stop calling that man by his first name before you get in trouble,” said Elliot in a sing song way, still staring at his phone.