by Lynn Lorenz
“Good plan.” Ted nodded as he pushed up next to Scott. He put his hand on Scott’s thigh. “I’ll call you when I’m done at the furniture store, and we can do it then.”
“Good. I’ll call and let Ginnie know the plan.”
Scott stared up at the ceiling. Those butterflies flittering in his belly weren’t about talking to those kids, were they? What else could they be?
“You okay?” Ted gave his leg a squeeze. Scott covered Ted’s hand with his own.
“Tired. Let’s go to sleep. We both have big days tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Ted leaned over and kissed Scott’s cheek. “Love you.” He scooted down under the covers and got comfortable.
Scott answered, “Love you too.” He sat for a moment longer, then followed suit.
In his head, rationally, he knew this wasn’t his mother’s fault. Her prayers had nothing to do with those kids being orphaned. Nothing with the decision to take them in.
But he really, really wished she’d hadn’t done whatever it was she’d done out there in the swamp.
Chapter Eight
Ted knocked on the glass front door of the store as he peered through it. Some of the lights were on, and he could see a few people moving around inside. He rapped again, this time with a little more insistence. At last, someone noticed him, decided he wasn’t going away and came to the door.
“We’re closed!” the woman shouted.
“I’m Ted Canedo, the insurance investigator. I have an appointment.”
“Oh!” She nodded, motioned for him to wait, turned away, and went back to the office. When she returned, she had a set of keys in her hands. Ted made note of it. Looked as if those keys opened a lot of doors, not just this one. Were they kept out or locked up, and how many people had access to them?
She unlocked the door, first the bottom lock, then the middle one, and at last the one at the top, and let him in. “Please. Come in. Mrs. Buchanan told us you’d be dropping by. I’m the manager, Pam Myers.” They shook hands.
Ted followed her to the back, where two other employees looked up from a round table where they were bent over what looked like thick notebooks.
“Stella, Dave, this is Mr. Canedo. The insurance guy.” They nodded at him with only mild curiosity on their faces.
“I’ll need to speak to each of you privately. Is there somewhere we can go?” Ted looked around the store.
“Sure. We have an office you can use. How long will this take? We’re opening in an hour.”
“Shouldn’t take more than ten or fifteen minutes each.” Ted gave her a big smile meant to reassure her he wouldn’t waste their time.
“Okay. How about you start with me? That’ll give Stella and Dave time to get their sales books in order before we open.” The salespeople looked relieved and grateful.
“Sure.” Ted nodded. Pam led the way to a closed door.
“We use this office when we’re doing financing. It has one of the two computers we need for that.” She motioned to a chair in front of the desk and then slipped into the seat behind the desk.
Ted made a note to move to that seat when the others came in. He would have preferred to sit there, to be more in control, but Pam had beaten him to it. Score one for her.
“So, what is it you want to ask?” Pam was still trying to seize control. Ted pegged her as one of those hard-hitting salespeople who would trap you in a little room like this and sweat your ass until you agreed to sign on the dotted line.
Ted leaned back and crossed his legs. He opened the hardbound notebook he carried and took his time getting out his pen. After he scanned what was basically a blank page, he tapped his pen on the edge and glanced up at her.
“I understand you worked closely with Mr. Buchanan.”
“Well, I’m the manager.” She shrugged. “He was here every day, making appearances mostly.”
“Appearances?”
“Sure. The customers wanted to see him, meet him. He’s sort of a celebrity around here, you know. Those TV commercials really bring them in. Having him on the sales floor helped business, but he didn’t do sales anymore.”
“I see. And how many salespeople work here?”
“Counting myself, although I don’t really sell anymore, as manager, I’m more of a financing person now, that would be four. Stella and Dave work Monday and Wednesday, Will and Sam work Tuesday and Thursday, and everyone works Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.”
“Business that good to keep you all?”
“Yes. The nearest furniture store carrying similar merchandise is in Lafayette, and they don’t deliver this far out. During the big sales events, we’re usually running around like hens with our heads cut off.” She grinned at him.
“So as far as you know, the business was going well.”
“Yes.”
“Everyone getting paid?”
She frowned. “I was. You’d have to ask everyone else, but I haven’t heard any complaints. Mr. Buchanan did the books and wrote the checks.” She looked down. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen now, with him gone.”
“But you all came in to work this week, right?”
“Well, yes, of course. Mrs. Buchanan told us she’d pay our salaries and commissions, same as always until she decides what to do about…” She faded out, then sighed and waved her hand. “All this trouble.”
“Are you aware that the business account has been wiped out? There is no money to pay you.”
“I am. But Mrs. Buchanan assured us, if we kept working, the sales would pay off.”
“I hope she’s right.” He gave her a rueful smile. “Has anything from the stock been reported missing?”
“No.”
“Has anyone done an inventory since Mr. Buchanan disappeared?”
“Yes. The guys in the warehouse. Mrs. Buchanan had them do one as soon as she discovered the missing money.”
“Where is this warehouse?”
“About a mile away. We pride ourselves on same-day deliveries.” She smiled, sounding as if she were trying to get him to buy something.
“How many work there?”
“Three. One driver and two delivery men.” He’d have to interview them also. More time out of his day.
“Can you give me the address?” She did, and he made a note in the book. That was a lot of employees depending on this business. From what Mrs. Buchanan said, Mr. Buchanan would never leave them all in this situation.
“I understand Mr. Buchanan built this business from the ground up.”
“He did.”
“Have you been here all that time?”
“No. I started about four years ago. A year ago, he promoted me to manager.”
“That’s pretty fast.”
“Well, he needed someone, and, frankly, sales jobs turn over faster than pancakes. He didn’t want to lose me, so he promoted me.”
He scribbled in the book, taking his time. She glanced at her watch.
“Those keys.” He looked up at her, caught her gaze. “Where are they kept?”
“In the main office.”
“Under lock and key?”
“Well, not during the day. But at night, yes.”
“And who has the key to the keys?”
She shifted in the chair. “I do. Mr. Buchanan and Mrs. Buchanan.”
“I assume you have your key since you opened the store, but where is Mr. Buchanan’s key?”
“I assume with him.” She frowned. “And I assume his wife has the other one.”
He didn’t answer. So, three keys. He’d have to ask Mrs. Buchanan to see her copy. Had anyone searched Mr. Buchanan’s office yet? And if they had, what were they looking for? What had they found? The keys?
“Are any of the banking records kept here? Deposit or withdrawal slips?”
“Mr. Buchanan kept those in his briefcase. On the days he wasn’t here during business hours, he would show up at closing and handle all the deposits after hours.”
He made note of it.
“When was the last time you saw Mr. Buchanan?”
She thought, her gaze rising to the ceiling. Making a show of it, for sure.
“The night before he disappeared. We were locking up. He said good night. I said good night. He said see you in the morning. I said okay.” She shrugged. “That was it.”
“Just like usual?”
“Yes. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Did he seem troubled?”
“No. Well, a little distracted, that’s all.”
“Did he have the night deposit with him? Was he carrying his briefcase?”
“Yes, he had it, and I assumed he had the deposit.”
“How much money would there usually be?”
“Not much cash, but there might be a few hundred if someone came by and paid on their account. But most people used checks or credit cards to pay with, not cash.”
Ted nodded. He’d have to ask Mrs. Buchanan about the briefcase.
“Anyone see the two of you leave?”
She frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean. Why would anyone… Why are you asking me about that?” She shrank back in her chair.
“Because I need to establish some facts about Mr. Buchanan’s whereabouts prior to his disappearance.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand. What has that got to do with keeping up the insurance on the business?”
“Oh, is that what Mrs. Buchanan told you?” He wondered what else Mrs. Buchanan had kept back from her employees.
Pam nodded.
Ted smiled. “Well, Pam, I’m the insurance investigator looking into whether Mr. Buchanan absconded with funds and if he did it alone or with someone’s help.”
She sucked in her breath, eyes wide. “Oh, my God! I had nothing to do with it. How could I? I don’t have access to the accounts. Only Mr. Buchanan and his wife had that.” She folded her arms. “If you want to accuse someone, better talk to her.”
“Her?”
“Mrs. Buchanan.” She pressed her lips together, clamping her mouth shut.
“From what you could tell, was their relationship okay?”
“Well… It was what it was.” She folded her hands together on the desk.
“And that was?”
She sighed. “Look. They fought, okay? Not all the time, but every now and then, about the business. She wanted to expand. He didn’t. She wanted to travel, take vacations. He wanted to work. Lately, they butted heads more than not.”
Ted nodded, making notes. “Thank you, Pam. Can you send Stella in now?”
She stood, looking as if she had something else to add. “Sure.” Then she left.
Ted rose, went around the desk, and sat in the executive-style leather chair.
This was much better. He opened the book and put it in front of himself.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Hello?” A woman with a mousy head of brown hair pushed in past the door.
“Stella, right? Come in.”
She did and sat in the chair he’d vacated. Average height, brown eyes and hair, dressed in navy slacks and a red jacket, she almost looked nautical. She clutched her sales book in her hands.
“Can you give me your full name and address?”
She did.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right.” He gave her a warm smile.
She nodded, swallowed, and gripped the book tighter, the white on her knuckles giving her away. What could she possibly be tense about?
“Now, Pam tells me that she and Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan have the only keys to the office. Is that right?”
Stella nodded. “Yes.”
“What if they’re late or sick?”
“Pam calls, and one of us goes to her house and picks it up. But she and Mr. Buchanan usually aren’t out at the same time.”
“Have they been recently?”
She paused. “No. I don’t think so, but I’m not here every day.”
Ted continued his questions, and she answered, but he gleaned nothing much from it. He made notes, then dismissed her, asking her to send in Dave. He’d have to come the next day to interview the others.
Even after he finished, Ted wasn’t sure this had gotten him anywhere.
They all mentioned the couple’s arguments. Their impression about who wanted to expand was different from Mrs. Buchanan’s. They all said they knew of only the three sets of keys, which reminded him to search the man’s office before he left. Everyone knew the bank account and deposit information was kept in the boss’s briefcase.
However, the manager had said Mr. Buchanan wanted to work and Mrs. Buchanan wanted the vacation. Not quite the same story told by Mrs. Buchanan.
He closed his notebook and left the office, looking for Pam. The store had opened, and there were a couple of customers hanging around. He caught Pam’s eye, and she headed over to him.
“Can I do a quick search of his office? Mrs. Buchanan gave permission.”
“Sure. Knock yourself out.” She opened the door and stood back.
“Has anyone been in here, cleaning up or anything?”
“Mrs. Buchanan came in and asked us to stay out of it. She’s the only one who went in after he left.”
Ted went inside and closed the door behind him. He looked around. Seemed neat and orderly. No loose papers on the floor and the ones on the desk were stacked in a tray. No signs of a struggle. He walked around, staring at the carpet. He dropped to one knee and ran his hand over the rug, then brought it to his nose and sniffed. No sign it had been cleaned, and no signs of staining. There were no windows, so the only in-and-out was the door.
He checked each of the file cabinets lined up across the back of the room. Locked.
Tried the drawers of the desk. The center drawer was unlocked, but the rest were shut tight. The only things in the center tray were pens, paperclips, binder clips, and an old correction fluid bottle on its side, the contents spilled and stuck to the bottom of the drawer.
He riffled through the papers in the tray. Nothing but some newspaper and magazine ads from the store with notes on them about how they could be improved.
He’d need the key to the desk to search any further. If anything had been here, it was gone or cleaned up. Ted was sure whatever had happened to Mr. Buchanan hadn’t happen here, although it might have started here.
The store’s owner could have been forced out of his office and taken somewhere. Or he could have gone willingly.
Ted checked his watch. He needed to meet with Scott about the boys. After tucking his notebook under his arm, he left the office and then closed the door, and, with a brief nod to the employees watching him, he exited the store.
He pulled out his phone and called Scott as he walked over to his car and got in. “I’m done. Where do you want to meet?”
Scott sighed. “Can you stop by the house and pick up some suitcases or duffel bags? Then meet me at the sheriff’s station. We’ll take your car to the boys. I don’t want to scare them with the cruiser.”
“Good idea.” Ted hung up and started his car.
He’d be in St. Jerome in less than thirty minutes.
Ted’s stomach knotted at the thought of meeting those two kids. He feared having to keep his reaction to the rude boy under control. Just hearing Scott tell him about the little smart mouth had Ted wishing spanking wasn’t such a reviled method of discipline. When he was a kid, if he’d mouthed off to an adult like that, he’d be unable to sit for a week. His father would have seen to it.
Which probably meant he was the last person to deal with a kid. Or two kids.
As for the other child, Ted dreaded the younger boy’s tears and crying, unsure if it would tear him up or irritate him. What if the kid was a whiner? God. Ted cringed at that thought.
Like nails on a chalkboard shooting straight through his brain.
Something deep inside him screamed taking in these kids was a bad idea, even if it were for a short time. But no way in hell he
could tell Scott about his misgivings.
Scott didn’t have to say a word or admit to himself, much less to Ted, but Scott wanted this chance with the boys something bad. Ted had no idea how much Scott would give up to keep them, but he’d been willing to go up against the entire pack.
And that scared the fuck out of Ted.
Chapter Nine
“Well, this is it.” Scott turned to Ted and gave him an unsure grin. He looked so damn happy.
Ted smiled back, although he didn’t feel like smiling. His belly was a roiling pit of acid. “Ready or not.” Definitely not. But nothing was going to stop Scott, not even Ted’s misgivings.
Scott nodded and got out of the car. Ted followed, dread echoing every step of the way. Scott strode up the walk to the front door and knocked as he bounced on his heels. Ted held his breath, bracing for whatever came next.
Ginnie opened the door, greeting them with a huge smile, and Ted nearly snorted.
I’ll bet she’s happy. She’s getting rid of those kids.
“Hi, Scott. Ted. Right on time. Come on in.”
Ted expected to see two suitcases waiting for them in the hall and the boys, but the welcoming foyer was empty.
“The boys are in the backyard. We can come in here and chat first.” She led the way to the back of the house. An eat-in kitchen opened to a family room, pointing to the large, plush sectional sofa. Ted and Scott sat, and Ginnie sat in the chair across from them.
“Thanks for keeping them, Ginnie. I know it was longer than you’d planned.”
“Nonsense. I only wish I could do more.” She gave a little frown and shrug. “But I’m so happy they will be here, in the pack.”
“At least for now.” Scott sighed. “What have you told them?” He cleared his throat. “About us?”
“Just that you were going to pick them up and they would stay with you until things were settled. Was that okay? Too little?”
“It’s just fine. We’ll handle the rest.” Scott exhaled and rubbed his hands on his thighs, a sure sign to Ted that Scott’s nerves were strung tight. He reached out and put his hand on Scott’s shoulder, giving him a soft squeeze to reassure him.
Ginnie nodded and stood. “I’ll go get them.” She went to the back door and outside.
