Silence stretched in the dining room as Jake read through the various employment contracts. They were vague, but contained all the important information needed to make them valid in the eyes of the law. Even if his father engaged in shady businesses and unethical practices, his front company was spotless, void of anything reprehensible.
So, what about these contracts?
In a nutshell, they would serve as proof that the people involved were hired by Matthew's front company, which would allow them to obtain a visa and travel to Canada, as well as stay in the country for the duration of the contract.
It was a way to ease the back and forth for traveling between the two countries, and lessen the suspicions. It allowed the foreigners to stay to "survey" the territory and verify whether or not there were exploitable deposits in the area, and establish a plan of action for development. They were experts in the field of mine establishment, people absolutely crucial to get the job done—according to the paperwork, at least.
Survey could take months, if not years, and the development could take decades—of course, the visa would need to be renewed every year, but that was not of Jake's resort.
Whether the curriculum vitae attached to the employment files were truthful or forged, Jake had no way of knowing. He wouldn't exactly be surprised if it were the latter, however. Some might truly be hired for their skills, while others…
A bit of digging would be needed, that is, if the police didn't wrap up things beforehand.
Tic, toc.
Time continued to pass in silence as Jake filled in the information needed in each contract. He pretended not to notice Pierrot's insistent stare, behaving as if he were not there. Of course, Jake was not made of stone, and it was unnerving to have the man sitting so close, not even a meter away, but it was better not to show any sign of nervousness whatsoever, for whenever he did in his previous lives, it had never ended well.
—It also wasn't the end of the world, even if his empty eye socket had gotten itchy, reminding him of what he had lost at the man's hands.
When Jake was just about finished with the contracts, rushed footsteps resounded, and a moment later, Tristan popped in the doorframe. His bear pajamas were a mess, the clear blue buttons fastened in disorder.
"Hm? Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" Pierrot hummed, which earned him a glare from the boy.
"I wonder why I woke up!" Tristan snarled, dashing to his brother to hug him around the waist, adopting a protective stance. "What are you doing here?!"
The man shrugged. "Working?"
"Don't spout that bullshit!"
A cold smile stretched Pierrot's lips, and Jake frowned ever so slightly. That expression wasn't what he would call forthcoming.
Expertly, he patted his little brother on the back with one hand, as if to tell him to calm down, and with the other hand, gathered the paper in one pile.
It was one thing to insult and scold the madman over the phone; it was another to do it face-to-face. This guy wasn't exactly a saint, as proven by his empty eye socket, and he'd rather not see him fly into a rage—not like the jerk could feel that kind of intense emotions to begin with, but an annoyed Pierrot was nevertheless not something he wanted to handle.
"Here. The paperwork is done."
Pushing the files over to Pierrot's side of the table, Jake gave the man a deadpan look, his face devoid of emotion.
"Thank you. You've worked hard."
What useless pleasantries.
"Anyway. Did you have some questions to pass along to Matthew?"
"No, none."
Filling up company information on application forms wasn't complicated, and he was pretty sure Pierrot knew it. So, what had gotten into him? Why was he getting chatty now, when the paperwork was done and over with? Couldn't he stay silent instead?
"Are you sure you don't have any last word to give him? Or to Angela, for all that matters."
"Why would I—" Jake stopped mid-sentence. Then, a scoff left him. Work, wasn't it? "…Couldn't you have sent a henchman to do the dirty work at least?"
Unconsciously, Jake tightened his arm around his little brother, locking him into a hug. If Pierrot had come to do what he had in mind, Tristan wouldn't have a peaceful night tonight or tomorrow or whenever the memories popped into his mind. At the end of the day, Matthew was still his father, and Angela, his mother.
"Well, they asked for me specifically."
Was Pierrot lying, or was he saying the truth? Jake could hardly tell. He might not have been wearing that Pierrot's mask that suited him to a T, but he might as well have. It was impossible to discern any emotions on his face, and the depths of his eyes were as calm as the sea, just like a bottomless pit of darkness.
"Why today of all days?"
It wasn't like it was the first time Pierrot had come over to the Laflamme house. Although it was the first time they met face-to-face here.
"You can thank the investigators Gabriel sent on your parents' tracks. They're probing at the right place, and some people would rather not take any risk and get dragged down alongside them." Pierrot shrugged. "It's a cruel world out there, and the law enforcement isn't only made of incompetent fools and corrupted officers. If the right compromising information falls into the right hands, then…"
"I see."
The police officers' investigation managed to ruffle some people's feathers, and these influential men and women allegedly wanted to bury the matter before they got burned. Nothing too surprising there.
"Still, why act now when you could have acted long before?"
"Because the conditions weren't right; now, they are."
What conditions? Even though the question lingered on the tip of his tongue, Jake decided not to ask it. The smile Pierrot offered spoke volumes; loud enough for him to understand that the man wouldn't explain himself any further.
"You should gather your things and leave with Tristan before it gets ugly." Pierrot's smile deepened. "Otherwise, you will have to disappear alongside your parents."
So, the order was to get rid of everyone in the house.
Thankfully, Gabriel was already staying outside today, and it shouldn't be too difficult to find a reason to leave, either. Jake often stayed over at Stephan's to mislead Angela, so no one would bat an eye if he suddenly went out with the excuse of going to his house.
The problem was Tristan—Angela wouldn't willingly let him leave the house. If he were outside during the incident, that would seem a little strange.
"…We can always send a message to Gabriel. What if I had a nightmare, and I want to see Misha asap?" Tristan spoke through gritted teeth.
Although young, he could read between the lines, and he knew he needed to get out and had to create a believable excuse. He had been in Pierrot's head too many times not to know what was about to happen. It made things easier on Jake's side; he didn't have to explain to him what fate awaited their parents tonight. Whether that was a good thing or not, that was hard to say.
"Alright, we can do that," Jake agreed, his thumb instinctively caressing his brother's small shoulder. In any case, they had no choice in the matter.
He had a hunch that if they didn't leave, they would die. Pierrot was not kind-hearted enough to warn them twice, much less spare them.
So, Jake got up, getting ready to leave with his brother. Tristan mentioned there was only one thing he absolutely wanted to bring with him: the jellyfish plush his brothers had bought him at the aquarium years ago. It was still his treasure.
As they made their way outside the dining room, Jake glanced over at Pierrot one last time. The man waved at him, saying:
"I believe this will be the last time we met. At least, for a long time. Farewell, and stay well."
"…Farewell."
And never reappear in our lives again.
Jake refrained from saying that thought aloud and followed Tristan upstairs instead. While the boy packed some clothing for tomorrow, Jake flipped open his phone to write a message to his brother. He had told him he'd be staying at Vanessa's tonight.
Hopefully, she wouldn't mind two more people.
Once the message was sent, he went to help Tristan. They needed to leave soon, before it was too late. Pierrot wouldn't delay his "work" forever, especially since he'd need to disguise his parents' death as accidental. Otherwise, it would only give more fuel to the police officers' investigation, and the people who had hired Pierrot probably wanted it to be put under the rug.
Or so Jake thought.
There weren't all that many ways to hide a dozen murders as accidental. By tomorrow morning, there would most likely be nothing left of the house and the corpses, if not ashes. He could already see the title of the breaking news on the television.
Tomorrow would be a long day.
The day after that, too, and so would be the next and the next until the dust settled.
"Jake, I'm ready!"
Tristan pulled on his sleeve, and Jake lowered his eyes to the boy. There was no uncertainty, no fear, and no guilt. So, he didn't say anything. Innocent people would die tonight, but he couldn't care less. In any case, many of them had watched in glee his misfortunes, mocking the mistreatment his mother put him through since he was a child—the only sensible ones had left long ago or were fired.
There was none among the staff members he held dear, and none he wanted to save.
"Let's leave then."
Therefore, that was all he said, and the boy responded with a vigorous nod, sliding his hand in Jake's.
Neither looked back as they walked to the driveway; neither spoke of the incoming doom looming over the house. It was a goodbye done in silence.