Torque (19 page)

CHAPTER
27

Dusk arrived early, pushed ahead by scudding
clouds and the threat of rain. Fenn was bushed. Twelve hours of
protecting students from themselves and the vagaries of other
drivers had put a tired look on his face that wouldn’t rub away.
Fortunately, a Ministry booking had not been part of his day. As
much as he wanted to make things right with Kim prudence dictated a
cooling off period. A year. Maybe two.

With the streetlights starting to glow he
entered Burlington’s newest industrial park at the east end of
town. Despite the downturn in the economy Jack Klaasen continued to
build office towers and Fenn drove past a number of TO LET and
SPACE AVAILABLE signs. He slowed as he neared the address Reis had
given him. It was a ten-story structure of black aluminum and dark
glass. Tall and narrow, it gave the impression of a giant domino
tile. The black BMW parked at the base could have been a chip from
it. Fenn took the adjacent spot.

Apart from the entrance and a unit on the
fifth floor the place was without lights and appeared to be
deserted. Reis had said it was a new construction. It was also a
great place for an ambush. He probably should have insisted on
somewhere busier but last night he’d felt angry and pugilistic.
Anger was fine. Anger took shit from no one. But it wouldn’t stop a
bullet. For now, the disc was his insurance and he had to find out
why Reis wanted it. Once he handed it over all bets would be
off.

The foyer was close to completion. The
drywall was sanded and waiting for paint, and long rolls of
broadloom were ready to be laid. The elevators were front and
center and Fenn’s body sagged from the swift ascent. He stepped
into a bright hallway and walked soundlessly on new carpet until he
came to a unit with a makeshift sign.

BRITTANY REIS B.SC. and LLP

It was attached by tape to the door, which
was slightly ajar. He pushed it open.

“Won't you come in, Mr. Fenn?”

There was nothing makeshift about Brittany
Reis. Her sleeveless blue dress and long dark hair were elegantly
offset with dangling silver earrings and a two-strand pearl choker.
Fine penciled-in eyebrows and dark pink lipstick perfectly
contrasted the steel-grey eyes and pale skin. Her self-assured
smile made Fenn realize he was still standing in the hall.

An expansive mahogany desk stood between
them, on which sat her cell phone and briefcase. Apart from the
high-back leather chair behind the desk and the low-back one in
front, the room was bare save for a sofa and an end table along one
wall. The floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the QEW were
without blinds.

Reis indicated the chair closest to Fenn. To
accept would concede a point of control but, what the hell, it had
been a long day and he really did want to sit. Reis came around to
Fenn’s side of the desk and perched her shapely butt on the edge of
it.

“I can’t offer you a drink because we just
moved in, so why don’t we get down to business. Did you bring
it?”

Fenn produced the CD case. He watched her
eyes and saw the pupils dilate. She held out her hand. He didn’t
move. Reis pursed her lips and reached across to the briefcase.
From it she brought a wad of hundred dollar bills and put it beside
her on the desk.

“Your five thousand dollar finder’s fee.”

Interesting, but not what he was after.

“I want to know who trashed my apartment and
firebombed the motel. And I want to know who gave the order.”

Still propped against the desk she casually
crossed one leg over the other. The dress ended a few inches above
the knee. The legs ended in a pair of glossy pumps with long thin
heels. She caught Fenn’s glance.

“Even if I have that information, telling you
would compromise client confidentiality. However …” She reached
over to the briefcase again, this time leaning farther and making
the dress rise higher. She added a second wad of banknotes to the
first.

“I have been authorized to give you a further
five thousand dollars for damages.”

Fenn looked at the money. Ten thousand
dollars, just like that. How far would this so-called client be
willing to go?

“I also lost my lease.”

“Find a new place. We’ll provide references
and the first month’s rent.”

He opened the plastic case and let the light
reflect off the disc inside. It was her turn to be distracted.

“I also want to know where my father is?”

Her grey eyes tracked up.

“I don’t know where your partner is.”

“I said
father
.”

“And I said, I don’t know. Look, we’re
willing to look beyond how you got the disc, and pay a generous
finder’s fee.” She tapped the cash with a manicured nail. “You
already know the alternative. This is as good as it gets.”

That may be true in your world but not in
mine, thought Fenn. She was offering him money for data when he’d
have gladly paid her for some answers. He let his focus drift past
her, out of the unit and into the night. Parallel lines of
miniature gemstones defined the highway—diamonds going east, rubies
heading west—everyone going somewhere just trying to keep up with
life. He wondered if they all felt as tired as he did. He brought
his attention back to Reis, who once again had her hand out for the
disc.

Fenn shook his head.

“It’s not enough.”

She arched one penciled eyebrow and lowered
her hand, then the thin pink lips formed a faint smile and she
nodded.

“I know exactly what you mean. There are
certain things that require a more delicate negotiation. And we
both know that money isn’t everything.”

Still with the smile, she casually removed
one earring and then the other. A slim hand went behind her head
and came back with a jade hairclip he hadn’t noticed before. She
retained the pearl choker but placed the other pieces neatly on the
desk beside the cash.

Fenn thought she was adding jewellery to the
pot until she slid her arm up between her shoulder blades and began
a slow downward stroke to her tailbone. The left shoulder dipped
followed by the right and the dress slipped from her to reveal a
strapless bra and string-thin thong.

Watching his face, she noticed Fenn's deadpan
expression waver. Her lips parted and her eyes became bright with
excitement. Stepping out of the dress, her long legs accentuated by
the heels and dark thigh high stockings, she promenaded over to the
expanse of clear plate glass. Framed by the only lit window in a
wall of black she seemed to revel in being on display to the
world.

Her back still to Fenn, she removed the last
two pieces of modesty as if solely for her own gratification. She
raised her arms and pressed her body against the glass, head turned
so as to feel the coolness on her cheek. Transfixed by the display,
Fenn watched her roll slowly as if on a bed, the heat of her body
leaving a ghostly outline on the cold surface. Now facing him her
eyes were half-closed and her mouth half-open. The smile was no
more.

She came at him in long strides and before he
could react had straddled the chair and pressed her lips forcefully
to his. The kiss was hungry. Demanding. Her hips were in motion.
Insistent. Urging. Fenn responded autonomously with caressing hands
and a searching tongue.

She nipped his lip, came off his lap, and
went behind the desk to rummage briefly in her purse. She returned
to kneel at his feet then began to release his belt and unzip his
jeans. Fenn helped then settled into the upholstery as her tongue
explored the inside of his thigh. Fully aroused, he only realized
she had dressed him in a condom when she abruptly ceased her caress
and rose from her knees.

Reis turned toward the desk. With legs
straight and stiletto heels spaced apart she leaned across the
broad wooden surface and grasped the far edge. Her look back was as
much a challenge as an invitation. Fenn took in the view and slowly
came out of the chair. Whatever her motives, right now she had but
one objective and he moved up behind to place his hands on her
hips. What the hell--if the lady is going to offer her honour, the
least a gentleman can do is honour the offer.

== == ==

The elevator doors slid open at the lobby.
Slumped in a corner as if asleep, Fenn didn’t move.

The doors closed.

He slowly reached up, grabbed the railing,
and wearily got to his feet. Already knackered from the weekend’s
excitement and the workday’s long shift, it seemed like Reis had
intentionally tried to finish him off. Only when he’d knocked the
jade hairclip off the desk had she seemed distracted from that
intent but her vexation was overridden by a stronger impulse just
two strokes later. It had carried them both and for long seconds
they had fought for, and against, each other. While she was still
recovering he’d spent an unsteady minute in the on-suite washroom,
then pocketed the bundles of cash and staggered out.

Ten thousand bucks for an old Neil Diamond
CD. Reis could screw him silly but until he had answers to all of
his questions he was going to hang on to the actual data disc. It
was all the leverage he had.

The other call he’d made on Sunday night was
to his grandmother. As far as Elsie knew, Svoljsak had fallen off
the planet years ago and, as far as she was concerned, that was a
good thing.

Fenn tucked in his shirt and made his way
outside. The cool night air was refreshing in a cold, unpleasant,
kind of way. Next to the gleaming BMW his unwashed Tercel looked
like a poor relative. He got into it but didn’t go far. In the
front corner of the parking lot were two industrial scrap bins with
a Toyota sized space between them. He backed into it then stepped
out to make sure the car was concealed in the shadow.

He could see the unit he had just left. Reis
was dressed and clipping on her earrings. She came to the window
briefly then moved back to the desk where she was only visible to
Fenn from the waist up. She appeared to be inspecting something in
her hand. She shook her head, turned angrily, and flung the object
at the window. He saw a flash on impact and was pretty sure it was
the demise of Neil Diamond. Clearly agitated, Reis returned to the
window then slammed her hand on the glass and kicked what had to be
the remains of the disc and case.

A car approached and entered the lot. Fenn
crept back into the shadow. It was a Grand Marquis and it pulled up
beside the BMW. The two occupants got out. One was definitely Ron
Jenner. The other could have been a defensive tackle for a
professional football team. They went directly inside and headed
for the elevator.

Fenn left the bins and trotted to where he
could read the licence plate. It matched the number he’d given Kim.
He returned to his hiding spot to see Reis and the other two having
an animated discussion. It was a short conversation that ended with
the two men moving furniture from that office into adjacent units.
When the lights in all the units went out Fenn got back into his
car.

Jenner and his buddy left the building and
drove off in the Grand Marquis. Reis, who probably had to lock up,
came out a couple of minutes later. He watched the BMW drive by and
let it turn onto the service road before rolling out to follow.
That there were few cars on this stretch of road was not a problem.
It ran parallel to the highway and was intersected by only a few
streets. Fenn was able to maintain a discreet distance for several
kilometres.

Reis drove quickly, though not beyond the
pleading range of a speeding ticket, and eventually turned north
onto Guelph Line. On this main artery Fenn let a few cars come
between them until Reis turned right onto Palmer Drive. He drove on
as she turned into the subterranean garage of an upscale condo.
Fenn parked and walked back along the sidewalk opposite the condo,
scanning the units for lights coming on. He got to Guelph Line and
turned back.

Either her lights had been on timers set to
come on earlier, or her unit was on the backside of the building.
He went up to the lobby and checked the intercom board. There was
no
Reis
listed, though
Occupied
seemed to be a
popular name.

Back on the sidewalk, Fenn stood by the
entrance to the underground parking. The garage door began to open.
He waited for the exiting car to pass and drive down the street
then he ran down the ramp and ducked under the closing door. It was
an old trick he’d used as kid whenever he’d lost his apartment key.
There were no rust buckets in this place, though, only quality
carriages in varying states of clean. The BMW had a spot by the
wall. How nice. Unit 606.

Reis was probably under a hot spray by now.
With the scratches on his back starting to itch, a shower was high
on Fenn’s list, too. The garage door began to ascend once more, a
set of headlights shone beneath. He had what he came for so he
waved at the driver and slipped out.

CHAPTER
28

Fenn took the shortest way home. Now he’d
upped the ante by relieving Reis of ten thousand bills, he fully
expected another visit from Jenner and company. Rather than waste
time threading through the underground garage of Brant Square he
parked on the side street and went in through the nearby utility
entrance.

His apartment had a new door complete with a
new lock. The keys were hanging on the knob. Mr. Bedeer probably
figured the door wouldn’t get busted if thieves could let
themselves in. Fenn called for Mogg and she came nonchalantly from
the bedroom. He put several tins of her food in a bag with one of
his sweatshirts, freshened up the litter box, then took everything
two floors down to the apartment of Cecelia Humphries.

Cecelia had been one of Fenn’s most aged
students and over the course of many lessons they had become good
friends. She’d taken to looking after Mogg whenever Fenn was away
for a weekend. Fenn would return the favour in any way he could,
most recently by helping her to shop for a new television. Cecelia
and Mogg also got along well. One appreciated the company and the
other enjoyed the change of venue.