My Twin Mates

Late Night

I covered my ears at the enormous sound, the almost unbearable vibration of the baritone voice coming from Mr. Stone. I had never heard him yell like that. I've never seen him so angry in my ten years working here.

"Find him!" William barked out. His face was red from screaming, his eyes started to bulge as he wiped the spit from his mouth. "Do whatever it takes. I don't care the cost. Bring him to me so I can wring his neck myself. Get me Kevin Larper. It's time to change the name of this damn company. Oh, and my lawyer, Idris Jameson, tell him to fix this."

"Okay, Mr. Stone," I began as I slowly approached Lennon, walking him out the door. "Lennon is on it, let's take a step back and do some breathing exercises or maybe some yoga to relax a bit."

"Relax? You expect me to relax?" William uttered as he walked over to the window behind his desk.

"Yes, you don't have the best track record of keeping cool. I printed out some exercises two weeks ago when you yelled at your last assistant. Did you try any of those techniques?"

"Is that why you found Mrs. Applegate? Because she's like a hundred and I won't get loud with her?" I didn't say anything, and he took it as I had, which I did. "No, I didn't do any of the stuff on your list."

"Well then, let's start," After about an hour of trying to convince my boss to do simple breathing exercises a five-year-old could do. And easy yoga poses. He finally surrendered and calmed down.

"Stone, I'm here!" came the sultry bass voice of my boss's longtime lawyer and friend, Idris Jameson. His tall and stalky physique matched that of Mr. Stone's. His dark skin had no blemishes or scars. He did, however, try to hide the lone tattoo in between his thumb and forefinger of a yin and yang symbol.

"You're late!" William bit back as he rose to greet his gym buddy.

"I'm late because someone couldn't listen to the many times I told him that his so-called friend was sketchy." Mr. Jameson sat in the chair across from William as he placed his elbows on his knees and began rubbing his hands together. "I'm late because I was working with my P.I. to get as much information on your friend Arnold Miller and one Noelle Lovejoy."

"So, you going to leave me in suspense? Or get on with it?"

"Arnold Miller and Noelle Lovejoy boarded the 467 flight to Jamaica at 9:17 am. One stop in Texas. I contacted the police in Dallas, they are heading to the airport now. I should hear back from my P.I." Idris said as he hauled his briefcase onto his friend's desk to take out all the information he collected. "Now, I found out Noelle is thirty years old, and her mate Quentin Albertson were married less than a year before he died."

"Died? Do we know how?" I asked. I just couldn't keep silent anymore.

"Oh, little mouse, I forgot you were there," Idris uttered as he looked behind him to see me sitting in the chair in the corner. Little mouse. He's had that nickname for me since I met him when I first started to work for Mr. Stone. I assume it's because I don't draw attention to myself when I enter a room. "Yes, and no. The report I received is inconclusive. I spoke to an acquaintance in the morgue and he said things in the report were left out. So, I tried to speak to the doctor who performed the autopsy, but he died seven months later. Under mysterious circumstances."

"Mysterious circumstances?" I repeated as I tried to wrap my head around everything he was saying. It was like I was somehow transported inside of a mystery book.

"Well, that autopsy report said he passed from natural causes, but..." He shrugged his boulder-like shoulders. "Hello... Idris Jameson?" he answered his phone as he looked back and forth between William and me before hanging up the phone after about five minutes. "It was a ruse!"

"What?" My boss questioned as he intertwined his fingers and raised an eyebrow.

"It was a damn ruse!" Mr. Jameson repeated louder as he began to ball up his fist and raise to his feet. My guess is that they both have anger issues and I need to find more breathing exercises in my foreseeable future. "They had dummies get on the flight to Jamaica and they used these people's passports to get on a separate flight."

"Who are these people?" I asked. I probably shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it.

"Ugh, some lowlives Zeke Herbert and Angel Richard. They're in custody, my P.I. searched up those names and apparently, they boarded a flight to Bolivia at the same time the others left for Jamaica." Idris spewed out as he pitched his nose together in frustration.

"Well, get them back!" Mr. Stone rose to his feet as he stared his lawyer down.

"Bolivia doesn't have an extradition agreement, I can't." Mr. Jameson gritted his teeth.

"So, they win? That's it?! They get all my hard-earned money to live it up in wealth?"

"No, no, I'm not saying that. I will work night and day to get them. To take down these two idiots as well, I'll see how much they know. I'll head down to the prison now." He grabbed his briefcase, shook my boss's hand, and walked out the door without looking in my direction.

"We'll get them. Don't worry." I tried to reassure my boss as the door opened again to Kevin Larper the CFO and brand ambassador of the company.

"Kevin have a seat," William spoke up as he walked back over to his desk. "I'm sure you are aware of the tidings that's going on. I think it's time we change the name of the company."

"Of course, what were you thinking?" Mr. Larper answered with a slight grin.