Upon A Pale Horse Read Online Free PDF

and then haul ass to the airport if he was going to make it onboard. With the security screening procedures, it was an easy two-hour delay once at the airport, and he was quite sure that after a plane had gone down for no good reason the mood wouldn’t be relaxed.
    Jeffrey threw three fat files into his satchel, usually left in the office on bicycle days, and then pulled on his backpack. With a final glance around his modest space he moved to the door and then stopped, a sudden bout of dizziness throwing him momentarily off-balance. He took several deep breaths and the disequilibrium subsided – probably a combination of shock and a blood sugar crash from the commute; he’d skipped his post-ride breakfast bar, Becky’s call having thrown his morning into disarray.
    One of the senior partners met him in the hallway, a somber expression on his wizened face, his polka-dotted red bow tie a jaunty nod at what passed for creativity in the stodgy offices, and stopped in front of Jeffrey, managing to block the way with his small, wiry frame.
    “Jeffrey. I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you in person – you have the full support of the firm. Take as much time as you need,” he said, his eyes revealing the lie as his lips formed the words. Every day Jeffrey wasn’t working, every hour, a client would go unbilled, and money made the legal mare run. It was the lifeblood of all firms. Billable hours. A grieving sibling out of the office for days, or God forbid, a whole week, was cataclysmic. Clients paid through the nose for Jeffrey’s expertise because they expected timely results, not excuses for non-performance laced with personal problems.
    None of which he said. He didn’t have to. Both he and Jeffrey knew the game.
    “Thank you,” Jeffrey said, glancing at his watch in what he hoped was an obvious manner. “I’m on my way to the airport right now. I appreciate the sentiment.”
    “Anything you need, you can rely on us for.”
    “That’s comforting, sir. I appreciate it. Now, not to be rude…”
    “Go do what you need to do. I just wanted to convey my deepest condolences. I’ve lost as well, so I know what it’s like.”
    There wasn’t anything to say to that, so Jeffrey nodded in what he hoped was a suitably grateful manner and averted his eyes – the bow-tie trembling ever so slightly from the partner’s breathing was suddenly irritating beyond belief, and he was afraid to speak in case he fell apart. His older brother was dead, blown to bits over the Atlantic, and this pseudo-academic mouthed shallow aphorisms, expecting him to be appreciative? He was suddenly enraged, but choked the sentiment down. He wasn’t thinking clearly. The little man was just trying to show that the firm cared. Obligatory, perhaps, but a kind gesture nonetheless.
    The partner stepped out of the way, belatedly realizing that he’d delayed the young associate at an inopportune time, and Jeffrey pushed past him, trying to cover the ground between his office and the elevators without any further interruptions. He could feel the eyes of his coworkers boring into him as he passed, the news having obviously spread on the office tom-toms almost as soon as he’d called his boss. Nothing was quite as fascinating as tragedy, and Jeffrey was as close as you could get without being on the list of victims. He did his best to ignore the scrutiny and muttered a silent thanks to Providence when the elevator pinged and the highly polished stainless steel doors opened to admit him.
    After a brief talk with security about his bicycle, he practically ran out the front entrance and waved to one of cabs rushing down the street. The taxi pulled to the curb a few yards past him with an almost comic screech of rubber, and Jeffrey jerked the rear door open and shouted his address as he slid onto the cracked vinyl seat.
    Finally immobilized, with no more distractions, the harsh reality of his brother’s death slammed into him with the force of a