What Hides Within (13 page)

"I can't go to dinner tonight," Derek interrupted. "I have plans."

"Hold on a second, Clive."

Morgan covered the mouthpiece on her phone and turned to Derek. "Cancel them," she whispered. "Who knows what Clive will suspect if you don't show now. The whole point of a surprise party is to keep it a surprise."

Derek sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Fine," he muttered under his breath.

"Morgan?"

"Sorry, Clive. I'm here."

"So where would you and Derek like to go?"

"How about Chili's?"

"Again? Fine. An hour?"

"We'll be there. Talk to you later." She hung up the phone.

"That was close. Looks like we have dinner plans. And by the way, you're an idiot."

"Thanks, sweetie," Derek said. "So you liked my paintball idea. Does that mean I did good? Am I going to be rewarded for my ingenuity?" He leaned over the table, closing his eyes and puckering his lips in jest.

Morgan did not seem amused. "Don't push it, Derek. So, paintball it is. I'll start looking into places. Any ideas who he'd like to play? Let's put together a list of everyone who might be interested."

"I could probably think of a few people. There's his brother, Kyle, for starters. Then there's the people he works with. Felix . . . on second thought, he probably wouldn't want Felix. That guy's a perv. Connie--"

"Hold up. Connie? You mean that bimbo from Harcourt? Clive says she's just someone to eat lunch with."

"Is that what he tells you?" Derek teased. "You shouldn't be so jealous of another woman just because she's beautiful. Connie and other super-hot chicks like her have it rough, with this chauvinistic, testosterone-dominated society wrongfully assuming that beauty and brains cannot coincide within the female half of the species. Please, don't single-handedly set women back in the workplace four or five decades."

"Oh, shut up, Derek. The day you show any woman any respect is the day I'll drop down to my knees and suck you off so good your toes curl up permanently."

"Can I hold you to that?"

"Just get to work on that list. I'll take care of everything else. Remember to keep this a secret from Clive. Actually, it would be best if you didn't mention it to anyone just yet."

"Got it. Like the Go-Gos and yourself, my lips are sealed."

"Are they? You're not exactly Mr. Reliable."

"What do you want me to do? Swear an oath on the Bible?"

"Yeah, if it'll keep your mouth shut."

"I know another way we can keep our mouths shut."

"Well, I think that's your cue to leave. I'll see you at Chili's in an hour. That should give you some time to go home and wash that shit off."

Derek stood to leave. "You want me. You just don't know it yet."

"You keep telling yourself that," Morgan replied, showing Derek to the door.

***

Look at them together, laughing and giggling. Since when were they so close? It looks like he finally wore her down. With her fear of you dying and leaving her all alone, she must have been easy pickings. She never did tell you how she got his number.

Clive watched behind his tinted windshield as Derek and Morgan stood chatting and awaiting his arrival outside Chili's Restaurant in Somerset. It being the second time he'd eat there in less than one week, Clive felt a bit like a townie. But that thought discomforted him far less than the unprecedented friendliness between stalker Derek and his usually unwilling prey, Morgan.

"I'll give you that it's odd that those two are getting along, but it's hardly suggestive of anything more. There could be hundreds of perfectly logical explanations for their sudden friendliness, all of which are unrelated to anything romantic."

Clive resented the insinuation and his entertainment of it. "Wait a second. Who asked you, anyway? Why am I even responding to you?"

I'm just voicing what you were thinking
, the inner voice responded.
You and I both know he weaseled his way into her pants. Look at the two of them.

"Morgan would never sink so low."

She fucked you, didn't she?

"Yeah, but . . . Oh, fuck off! I'm not having this conversation with you. I know what you're doing, planting an unwarranted seed of doubt."

C'est la vie. Have it your way. Keep an open mind, and you'll soon see what I'm talking about.

"La la la." Clive plugged his ears with his fingers. "I'm not listening to you," he sang.

That's mature. Still, I know when I'm not wanted.

Clive turned off the engine. He paused, waiting for the voice to add more colorful commentary to his life. But it had left him again.

He calmed a little before exiting his car. He believed his mind was jumping to illogical conclusions. He knew Derek would hop on Morgan without second thought if given the opportunity. He made no secret of it, and Clive couldn't fault Derek for what he expected from him. After all, that was Derek being Derek.

Morgan, however, had promised Clive that she would stay away from Derek. Clive trusted her, and any act contrary to her promise would constitute betrayal. He couldn't understand why the thought made him so angry. She owed him nothing. He was pining for Connie. She longed for whomever it was she wanted. Still, Clive trusted few people. He loved even fewer.

His hostility lessened. Feeling that Morgan deserved much more than the mere benefit of the doubt, he relaxed. It was all that damn voice's doing, a devil whispering its fork-tongued lies into his ear.
Nothing is going on between Morgan and Derek
, he told himself. He shook off the remaining tension provoked by his imaginary enemy. The operation couldn't come soon enough.

As he walked toward the restaurant, the proverbial seed began to bud. Seeing Morgan and Derek together, behaving as though they had become best of friends overnight, left Clive unsettled. Could she really be bedding up with him?

"Is something wrong?" Morgan asked as Clive approached her. She pulled him in close to her. In a low tone, she told him that she saw him talking to himself in his car.

"No. I'm fine. There was traffic getting here. Then I had this cotton head in front of me going like twenty. It was so aggravating."

"Yeah, old people shouldn't be allowed to drive," Derek said. "And that bridge construction is a bitch to maneuver. I got stuck there an extra ten minutes."

"Well, I assume you two called me here for a reason. Do you have some sort of announcement to make?" Clive said it jokingly, but he wanted an answer. He flashed a devious glance toward Derek, who didn't seem to catch it.

"What?" Morgan stammered. "Of course not! That's nasty."

"That's not what you said when I was inside you earlier," Derek said. Morgan ignored him. Clive tried to follow suit, but the comment added to his frustration.

"I already told you why we're here," Morgan said. "Dinner's on us. We wanted to wish you good luck before your operation."

"So now I have to pay, too?" Derek protested. Any further protests were quickly discouraged by the elbow thrust into his stomach.

"Sort of a last meal, huh?" Clive took in the scene before him. "And the best place you guys could come up with is Chili's?"

Morgan's expression turned sour. "I thought you liked Chili's. We were trying to do something nice--"

"Got you out of the house, didn't it?" Derek jumped in. "I mean, I've been trying to get you out of your apartment with no luck since you told me about your condition. We're your friends, Clive. We're here for you. Besides, you don't like those fancy, two-fork places."

Realizing he was being ungrateful, Clive apologized. "I'm sorry. Chili's is fine. I've just been having a hard time dealing with this alone. I figured everything would go back to normal after the operation. In the meantime, I didn't want to be a burden to anyone."
And it's not like I haven't had someone to talk to, even when I am alone.

"Like Derek said, we're your friends, dickhole." Morgan's frankness never ceased to catch Clive off-guard. His face contorted into a cartoonish grin.

"Well, I didn't want you guys to think I was crazy, what with the hallucinations and all."

"You're seeing things?" Derek asked.

"No. I misspoke. I just hear things."

"Oh." Derek's emotional range lacked the capacity to console or comfort. "So, are we going to stand here all day, or are we going to eat? Who wants nachos?"

The three entered the restaurant and were seated at a booth near the bar. They chatted meanderingly through happy hour, gulping down two-for-one drinks and bottomless nachos. All the while, Clive got the impression that Derek and Morgan were hiding something from him. They asked strange questions, prying into his social life beyond present company, a fairly non-existent frontier. When he sought the basis for their interrogation and obvious attempts to get him shitfaced, they evaded his questions. Their voices hushed when he returned from his frequent trips to the restroom. Every now and then, Derek and Morgan would share a look of understanding or a private laugh, as if the two shared a secret joke at Clive's expense.

Drunk and irritated, he thanked them for dinner and got up to leave.
Some friends
, he thought.
Always there when you need them
.

So much for starting small.

"A government building at that," he continued aloud. He laughed quietly too himself, reveling in his success, his first taste of destruction, chaos and death. "But I guess if you're going to do something, you might as well do it right."

He stared at his latest creation. It was far bigger than his previous devices and much more powerful. He viewed it with the same pride a father views his newborn son.

This next target will be much harder. Many of the buildings are solid concrete. I'll need to plant more than one of these babies in select locations, and I'll need to hide them well. The property damage will probably be less on this one, even with the bigger explosives. But the death toll is all that matters.

He held high the latest fabrication of his sadistic creativity, beaming with pride. Still, he needed more, and that meant more parts. He frowned. The acquisition of the necessary supplies wouldn't go unnoticed. He would need to be craftier. He would need an alibi.

The television blared in the room over. Now was not the time for indiscretion. He slid his creation delicately underneath his bed. His preparation far from complete, he set his mind to planning, saving thoughts of the final result for a more appropriate time.

He looked at the clock on his wall. 1:30 a.m. He had to get some sleep. His nightly exploits were beginning to show on his face. He didn't want others to grow suspicious, to know his plans. Especially not
him
. Definitely not
him
. Not yet, anyway. The time wasn't right for revealing himself. Soon,
he
will have to know everything. Soon, but not yet.

***

"Hey Felix," Connie whispered, ushering him quietly into his cubicle.

"What's up, hot stuff? If you wanted to get me alone--"

"You're friends with Clive, right?"

"I guess you could say that."

Felix thought about it, and even though he had no clue what Connie wanted, he decided to play up his and Clive's relationship. "I'm only like his best work buddy. We get along well. Why do you ask? Any idea why he hasn't been to work lately? Spencer told me he got abducted by aliens."

"You're such good friends with him, yet you're telling me that you're the last person to know that Clive is having surgery to remove a brain tumor? Didn't you get the card we passed around?"

Oops. So that's what that was. How was I supposed to know I should read it first? Guess I shouldn't have written "Happy Birthday" then.

"Of course I knew that," Felix lied. "Duh! Who would actually believe he was abducted by aliens?"

"Felix, you've got to be . . . never mind. That's not important. What is important is the call I got from Clive's friend. He's trying to organize a post-surgery night out for the guy. You interested?"

"Will there be strippers, alcohol, whipped cream, and Cheez Whiz?"

"Alcohol, definitely. The rest, I doubt it. The guy said something about paintball, maybe. And Felix, please never tell me what you use the Cheez Whiz for."

"Well, one out of four is a start, and a good one at that. Alcohol is the beginning of many a fine occasion. When is this going down?"

"Not this Friday but the next, if Clive is well enough. He doesn't know anything about it, so let's keep it that way. Same goes for everybody else here."

"You haven't invited anyone else from work?"

"You're the first person I've spoken to. Do you know anyone else here whom Clive's friends with?"

"He talks to Kim a lot. Probably Spencer, too, and that dork Bradford in sales. Not to mention Carrie from claims."

The last person was a new employee that Clive hadn't met yet, but Felix found her sexy and wanted her there. He figured Clive wouldn't mind her name thrown into the mix.

"Alright. I'll talk to them. Let me know if you think of anyone else, and don't forget. Mark the date on your calendar."

"Will do. While I'm marking my calendar, if you'd like to schedule some private time--"

"I'll talk to you later, Felix."

With that, Connie headed toward Kim's cubicle. Felix was left with a social occasion scheduled on his mostly unsociably inclined calendar and a semi-hard penis from his blatant ogling of Connie's body. He adjusted himself and sat down before anyone could notice his excitement. It wasn't often that women of Connie's caliber spoke to Felix. In fact, it wasn't often that women of any caliber spoke to Felix.

***

Around a corner, Judith hovered about as well as an elephant on water. Still, her presence remained unseen throughout Felix and Connie's conversation. She sighed heavily. She wouldn't receive an invite to Clive's party. No one from work ever invited her anywhere.

It's because I'm the boss
, she fooled herself.
I'll show them, though. I can be a lot of fun once the work clothes come off. They're going to want me at that party. No, they need me at that party. How could I possibly let them all down?