Read Online Parker 05 - The Darkness by Jason Pinter - Free Book Online
Authors: Jason Pinter
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cameras or news
crew? I don't want my son to see me on the Internet."
"We'll see how things go upstairs," Jack said. "Come on."
The Darkness
63
I followed him to a bank of metal turnstiles, manned
by another security guard, this one looking much less
awake on the job than the guys at the front desk. We
showed him our badges, and he pressed a button that
swung the turnstiles. We passed through, made our way
to the elevator bank and headed up to the fourth floor.
Jack hummed a tune I couldn't recognize as we ascended,
and I felt slightly anxious, wondering just how far this
would take us. I was also somewhat concerned about
pulling my weight on this story. As much as I wanted to
find out just what the hell was going on with this shadow
corporation, earning the respect of Jack O'Donnell was
a close second.
The doors opened, and we followed a sterile beige
hallway to a pair of double glass doors with the words
Orchid Realty stenciled on them. I opened the door for
Jack, the glass swinging out effortlessly and without a
sound. A heavyset woman with curly reddish hair sat
behind an oak desk, a pair of old-fashioned headphones
resting on her ears that looked less Bluetooth than long
in the tooth. The nameplate read Iris Mahoney.
Iris was filing her nails, pausing every few moments
to blow nail dust from her hands and onto the floor.
As we approached, her eyes rose and a wide smile
crossed her lips. "You must be those boys from the newspaper," she said. "Welcome to Orchid."
"Hi," I said before Jack could open his mouth. "Miss
Mahoney, if it's not too much trouble we'd like to speak
to one of your property managers."
"Certainly, sir. Which of our managers would you like
to speak with?"
"Whoever handles the building which until recently
leased space to a company called 718 Enterprises."
64
Jason Pinter
The receptionist pursed her lips, sucked in air and
squinted. "Hmm...that doesn't ring a bell. Let me check
our database."
She put down the nail file and began typing. Two
fingered. One finger at a time. Slow enough that I could
hear Jack breathing heavier as his frustration grew. Every
few moments the lady would mutter a pleasant "no"
under her breath and continue typing. After several minutes she looked up at us and said, "I'm sorry, sir, we
don't have any records for a 718 Enterprises. Are you sure
you have the right realty corporation?"
"You do manage the building leases at sixteen-twenty
Avenue of the Americas, right?"
"Now that sounds familiar. If my memory serves me,
they have a wonderful tantric yoga studio." She blushed
slightly. I pretended not to have heard anything.
"That's the building," Jack said. "Listen, hon," he continued, approaching the desk, a warm smile on his face.
It was shocking to compare this to his countenance
downstairs. Different folks responded to different temperaments. Jack didn't get his reputation by assuming
everyone reacted the same way to everything. "We're not
here to cause trouble. We're investigating a story for our
newspapers, it's our job, really, and we just have a few
questions about the building. If you could just let us know
who manages that property, we'll be out of your hair in
no time. What do you say?"
The apple-cheeked receptionist smiled, and if I didn't
know any better, it looked like she might have suddenly
developed a small crush on the elder newsman. "Hold on
one second. If you'll have a seat, I'll have somebody out
here to assist you right away."
"You've made my day, darlin'." Her smile widened.
The Darkness
65
We took seats in two leather chairs. I shuffled through
a pile of uninteresting magazines before putting them
back. Jack just sat there. He didn't need any distractions.
After thumbing through the pile of outdated magazines
for a second time--in case Victorian Homes had magically been replaced by Sports Illustrated --a middle-aged
man with a short haircut and mustache entered the waiting room. His
crew? I don't want my son to see me on the Internet."
"We'll see how things go upstairs," Jack said. "Come on."
The Darkness
63
I followed him to a bank of metal turnstiles, manned
by another security guard, this one looking much less
awake on the job than the guys at the front desk. We
showed him our badges, and he pressed a button that
swung the turnstiles. We passed through, made our way
to the elevator bank and headed up to the fourth floor.
Jack hummed a tune I couldn't recognize as we ascended,
and I felt slightly anxious, wondering just how far this
would take us. I was also somewhat concerned about
pulling my weight on this story. As much as I wanted to
find out just what the hell was going on with this shadow
corporation, earning the respect of Jack O'Donnell was
a close second.
The doors opened, and we followed a sterile beige
hallway to a pair of double glass doors with the words
Orchid Realty stenciled on them. I opened the door for
Jack, the glass swinging out effortlessly and without a
sound. A heavyset woman with curly reddish hair sat
behind an oak desk, a pair of old-fashioned headphones
resting on her ears that looked less Bluetooth than long
in the tooth. The nameplate read Iris Mahoney.
Iris was filing her nails, pausing every few moments
to blow nail dust from her hands and onto the floor.
As we approached, her eyes rose and a wide smile
crossed her lips. "You must be those boys from the newspaper," she said. "Welcome to Orchid."
"Hi," I said before Jack could open his mouth. "Miss
Mahoney, if it's not too much trouble we'd like to speak
to one of your property managers."
"Certainly, sir. Which of our managers would you like
to speak with?"
"Whoever handles the building which until recently
leased space to a company called 718 Enterprises."
64
Jason Pinter
The receptionist pursed her lips, sucked in air and
squinted. "Hmm...that doesn't ring a bell. Let me check
our database."
She put down the nail file and began typing. Two
fingered. One finger at a time. Slow enough that I could
hear Jack breathing heavier as his frustration grew. Every
few moments the lady would mutter a pleasant "no"
under her breath and continue typing. After several minutes she looked up at us and said, "I'm sorry, sir, we
don't have any records for a 718 Enterprises. Are you sure
you have the right realty corporation?"
"You do manage the building leases at sixteen-twenty
Avenue of the Americas, right?"
"Now that sounds familiar. If my memory serves me,
they have a wonderful tantric yoga studio." She blushed
slightly. I pretended not to have heard anything.
"That's the building," Jack said. "Listen, hon," he continued, approaching the desk, a warm smile on his face.
It was shocking to compare this to his countenance
downstairs. Different folks responded to different temperaments. Jack didn't get his reputation by assuming
everyone reacted the same way to everything. "We're not
here to cause trouble. We're investigating a story for our
newspapers, it's our job, really, and we just have a few
questions about the building. If you could just let us know
who manages that property, we'll be out of your hair in
no time. What do you say?"
The apple-cheeked receptionist smiled, and if I didn't
know any better, it looked like she might have suddenly
developed a small crush on the elder newsman. "Hold on
one second. If you'll have a seat, I'll have somebody out
here to assist you right away."
"You've made my day, darlin'." Her smile widened.
The Darkness
65
We took seats in two leather chairs. I shuffled through
a pile of uninteresting magazines before putting them
back. Jack just sat there. He didn't need any distractions.
After thumbing through the pile of outdated magazines
for a second time--in case Victorian Homes had magically been replaced by Sports Illustrated --a middle-aged
man with a short haircut and mustache entered the waiting room. His
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