The Fate of Kane (ONC 2023)

Clandestine - Chapter 2

"Evelynn!"

The voice of Spencer Jadrich boomed from the kitchen.

Closing her eyes, Evelynn covered the receiver with her hand and shouted, "I'm at my desk!" Lowering her hand, she continued, "Sorry, Erin. Spencer has meetings in the city this afternoon. He's supposed to be getting ready, but he was surfing instead."

"Typical," Erin scoffed. "Meetings? About the new building?" Always inquisitive with a mind like a picturesque vise, Erin's avaricious need for every detail was boundless.

"Yah, it's almost done, but the City Council is still going on about those bike lanes, and some guy from a security firm has to inspect the systems."

"Has the central tower finally been leased?"

"I think so? I don't really know," Evelynn frowned.

"What do you mean? You would have seen the lease." Skepticism laced Erin's curiosity.

"It's all hush-hush," Evelynn shook her head. "Spencer hasn't said anything directly."

"Oh! I wonder why the secrecy?"

"We'll find out eventually, I suppose. Anyhow, do you know where the maps and floor plans were filed? Spencer needs to bring them today."

"I think," Erin snickered, "they're in the basement."

Of course they're in the basement, Evelynn sighed. "I was hoping I didn't have to go down there. I'll call you back later." With a quick good-bye, she hung up the telephone.

Spencer had weaved his way through the halls from the kitchen, "Do I have everything?" he called out to Evelynn, seated out of sight around a corner. Wrestling an arm out of his wetsuit as he sauntered through the glass doors separating the offices from the rest of his house, he peeled his other arm through the thick, neoprene sleeve and let the top half of the suit flop down in front of him.

Evelynn stacked a large pile of files into a box, lifting it with ease, "Mandy said she packed your bag, and I have the files here..." trailing off, she had rounded the corner and laid eyes on Spencer. Bare-chested with his hands on his hips, he was waiting expectantly. In his late-fifties, Spencer's once dark hair had become salty in color and substance; fresh off the water, strands were still plastered within the rivulets dripping down the sides of his face. With lively hazel eyes and a stocky build, he retained an ample amount of strength and agility, though he was softer around the edges than he had been in his prime. "I just have to get the maps out of the basement and you," Evelynn waved her finger up and down, "you're going to have to get dressed; that friend of yours from the security firm is supposed to pick you up in a few minutes." Setting the box of files on the desk nearest the door, an impish glint in her smile, she added, "Unless old-man-retired-athlete gone half-dressed-surfer is the dress code?"

Spencer's sun-weathered face cracked with delight. An intense man who lived life as though it were a game of wit and brawn, his contemporaries spent more time evading his temper than tempting it. Not Evelynn. And as she walked into the hall and opened the door to the basement, he sauntered off to the main staircase, chuckling at her audacious panache.

A series of dark rooms with no windows, the basement was a man cave and homage to everything that was Spencer Jadrich: the boy he had been and the man he became.

The file room, though, was dingy, smelling of must and damp cardboard. Crossing her arms and scanning the room, the maps were in a back corner, mindlessly tossed on top of a row of filing cabinets. Muttering about poorly maintained organization and hard work gone to waste as she collected them, Evelynn turned out the light and ascended the stairs.