Her gaze darted to Mitch, who was grinning. “No luck yet,” he said into his speaker. “Any suggestions?”
“Maybe we’ll see some at the convenience store. Zackatron knows where it is.”
“Yup. Follow me.”
It didn’t take long before they were drinking icy slurpees. Mitch finished his off fast. “That tasted good, but I’m getting hungry for dinner. I only live four blocks from here. Would you two spies like to come to my apartment? We’ll throw some hot dogs on the grill and roast marshmallows afterward to make s’mores.”
Zack’s head whipped around toward her. “Could we, Mom? Please?”
This was her fault. If she hadn’t joined them, she wouldn’t be in the position to play the bad guy by refusing Mitch’s invitation. She didn’t have a reason to say no. In truth, she didn’t want to. But if she accepted, it meant she’d crossed way beyond the line into territory where she was vulnerable and could be hurt again.
Unfortunately the pleading in Zack’s eyes overrode her caution. He was very vulnerable right now, too, yet she had to admit this man was boosting her son’s belief in himself. You couldn’t buy that kind of help.
“I think it sounds like fun. We’d love a barbecue.”
“Yay!”
A satisfied gleam entered Mitch’s eyes. “You took the words right out of my mouth, sport. Let’s go.”
Zack was growing proficient at climbing on his bike and taking off by himself. Heidi was secretly delighted with his progress. It was all due to this man whose intention to infiltrate the company had somehow spilled into her private life, as well. With her permission.
She and Zack followed Mitch onto a side street that avoided the heavy traffic on Foothill Drive and cut through the residential area to his apartment complex. How many years had she driven past it on her way to the zoo or up the canyon? He’d been living here almost a year without her knowledge. The chances of their homes being this close to each other were probably a million to one.
Mitch headed for the third carport and hopped off. “We can leave our bikes here.” They took off their helmets, then he unlocked the door and ushered them into the kitchen. “Welcome to my abode. Normally the management only rents to college students, but an exception was made for me. The bathroom is down the hall on the left.”
Mitch had been well hidden. With the killer still on the loose looking for him, the chances of him being tracked down clear across the country weren’t that great. Furthermore no one would think to look for him in a housing complex meant for college students. But that didn’t ease Heidi’s fears. They lurked in the back of her mind and came out of hiding at odd moments.
“Come on, Zack,” she said. “Let’s go wash our hands.”
His apartment was tiny, but thankfully it had good air-conditioning. Only two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room and kitchen with a small dinette set. The unoccupied bedroom was filled with fitness equipment. Zack noticed it before they rejoined Mitch on the veranda off the kitchen, where he was heating up the grill.
There were four deck chairs surrounding a round glass table with an umbrella. He’d pulled down an awning to shade them from the sun. It wouldn’t fall below the Great Salt Lake for another hour at least.
Mitch’s glance took in both of them. “When I’m home and not sleeping, this is my favorite room in the house.”
She nodded. “It would be mine, too.”
“This porch isn’t a room,” Zack said.
A chuckle escaped Mitch’s lips. “It is for me. Want to help?”
“We both do,” Heidi chimed in.
They worked in harmony. Zack set the table with paper plates, potato chips and condiments. Mitch started the hot dogs and Heidi tossed a green salad with the ingredients he had on hand. She fixed her own version of Thousand Island dressing. By then Mitch had made up a pitcher of lemonade and soon they were ready to eat.
“After dinner can I play with some of the stuff in the second bedroom?”
Mitch was working on his third hot dog. She was pleased to note he’d had several helpings of salad with liberal portions of her dressing. He’d already complimented her on it. “You mean the treadmill and exercise bike?”
“Yeah.”
“I have a better idea. If you want to come over on Saturday, we’ll do a real workout when we’re not starving and hot.”
“Okay! That’s how come you’re so strong, huh?”
“The machines help, especially when I have to work odd hours sometimes. But I much prefer going for a bike ride outside. It keeps you in great shape. Now that you can ride your bike, you’ll build lots of muscles and it’s good for your heart. You know, you’re lucky to live in Salt Lake where you can ride your bike outdoors almost year round.”
Zack stop munching on his potato chip. “You live here, too.”
“I do right now.”
Heidi schooled her features not to react, but her son’s little face fell on cue. “How come not all the time?”
“Mitch’s home is in Florida,” she interjected, not wanting to let this discussion go any further. But she decided it was best he knew the truth. “Mitch is only working here temporarily.” She switched subjects. “Hey, guys, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry for a s’more.”
Their host got up from the table before she could. Whatever was on his mind had put an expression on his face that puzzled her. “I’ll bring everything out.”
“Come on, Zack,” Heidi said. “Let’s clear the table.”
In a few minutes they were cooking marshmallows over the grill with fondue forks. Heidi put them between graham crackers and chocolate. Soon they’d devoured everything, with Mitch pronounced grand champion for eating the most.
“Speaking of champions, have you ever watched the Tour de France, Zack?”
“What’s that?”
His mouth curved upward. “A big bike race in France that lasts three weeks.”
His eyebrows lifted. “That long?”
“They don’t ride continuously. Every day they cover a certain section of the route, then they go to bed in the town they come to. The next day they get up and eat, and then ride the next section.”
“What if it rains?”
“They ride through anything. Rain, wind, snow.”
“Snow?”
“That’s right. Their route might start in a valley. But when they have to climb to the summit of a mountain, they sometimes end up in a snowstorm.”
“Don’t they get cold?”
“Yup. They get cold and hot and have to layer their clothes for every eventuality. Just two days ago they biked through snow. But you have to realize these guys are in fabulous shape. A few of them are Americans. The race is going on right now. I’ve been recording the stages. Want to see a little bit of it?”
“Yeah!”
After a quick cleanup, all three trooped into the living room and sat down on the couch and love seat. For the next half hour they watched the last third of the day’s race while Mitch patiently explained the aspects including the significance of the peloton.
“Wow!” Zack exclaimed as he watched the cyclists climb a twisting road. “That road winds up like a snake!”
Mitch nodded. “It does. Look at that one poor rider at the back. He’s lost his legs. He’s starting to wobble.”
“Just like the zombies in the video game.”
“Exactly like that. Uh-oh. Someone crashed.”
“Why do they get so close?”
“The first guy faces the wind. The guy close behind him doesn’t have to work as hard. They plan every move to conserve their energy until they try to make a break and become the leader.”
“The scenery is stupendous,” Heidi said. “Oh, it makes me want t
o go back there so badly I can hardly stand it. There’s no scenery like it in the world.”
“You’ve been there?” Zack sounded incredulous.
“Yes. With a bunch of friends while I was in college.”
“I didn’t know that.” He jerked his head toward Mitch. “Have you been there?”
He nodded. “Several times when I was on leave from the military. A couple of my friends and I rented a car and drove through a part of the French Alps.” As he spoke to Zack, his gaze met hers. “I agree there’s no place like it. Those cyclists climb the summits like mountain goats.”
Heidi expelled a sigh. “I don’t know how they manage those climbs day after day. They’re iron men.”
Zack thought that was funny and laughed. Then he suddenly blurted, “Hey, Mom, look at that cool castle!”
“Europe’s full of them. When you’re a little older, I’m going to take us there. I want you to see Austria and England.”
“England?”
“Yes. Your Grandma Bauer was a Taylor before she got married. The Taylor family is from the Isle of Wight. You have an ancestor, Thomas Taylor, who was a pioneer. He lived in a town with a huge castle. When we explore it you’ll be able to spy like crazy through dark passages and dungeons and watch towers.”
Her son’s eyes were still glued on the racers. “Maybe I could ride in that race when I’m older! And at night I could sleep in one of those castles.”
“Anything’s possible.” Her eyes met Mitch’s and they both chuckled quietly. Zack had only learned how to ride his bike yesterday.
Once they’d watched the French rider climb today’s podium and put on the yellow jersey, Heidi stood up. “Guess what, honey? It’s time to go home. You’ve got school in the morning.”
Following that thought, she realized Mitch would be starting work in the warehouse. They wouldn’t have this kind of togetherness anymore. And soon he’d find out what was going on inside the plant. Then he’d leave for Florida, taking all the excitement and wonder of this week with him. How was she going to handle that? She didn’t even want to think about Zack’s reaction when he learned Mitch was gone.
Their host turned off the TV. “The sun’s gone down. Our ride back to your house won’t be so hot now.”
“I wish we didn’t have to go.”
Oh, Zack. I’m with you on that, honey.
She put her arm on his shoulder as they walked him out to the carport. “Even spies need their sleep, no matter how old. Isn’t that right, Agent X12?”
Mitch shot her a piercing glance. “Right.” He adjusted his own helmet strap. The man was so handsome, Heidi forgot not to stare. But she had to remember he would be on a huge spy mission starting tomorrow morning. Just thinking about it made her tremble for whoever was stealing from the company.
They would have no idea Mitch was on to them until it was too late. So far she and Zack had only seen the thrilling part of him, but she knew deep down he had a forbidding side when he went in pursuit.
* * *
AT FIVE TO EIGHT THE NEXT morning, Mitch reported for work at the Bauer’s plant in Woods Cross. As per Heidi’s instructions, he wore a dark blue polo shirt and khaki shorts. He’d already stopped by the surveillance van to pick up all the tapes to study later.
The receptionist in the plant told him to be seated. Over the loudspeaker she called for Randy to come to the front desk. Mitch had memorized the names of the people in charge. Randy Pierson was the Bauer who’d be Mitch’s shift boss.
In a few minutes a blond guy in a similar blue polo shirt and khaki shorts appeared and shook Mitch’s hand. “Welcome to the company, Mr. Garrett. I can see Ms. Norris prepared you and sent me a copy of your file. I’m Randy. Mind if I call you Mitch? We’re not formal around here.”
“I’d prefer it.”
“Great. I was told we’d be getting a new man today. You’ll like it here.” Randy, who looked to be around Mitch’s age, seemed an affable fellow.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’ll show you around. When we finish today, you can put in an order for the polos we wear. You should have those shirts by Tuesday of next week. Come with me.”
While Randy explained the schedule and the breaks, they toured the premises Mitch had covered by himself yesterday. They ended up in the warehouse and truck-bay area located at the south end of the plant.
“Let me introduce you to the man you’ll be working with.” They walked out to the loading dock where a truck had backed in.
“Harold? Come here a minute.”
A middle-aged man with thinning brown hair and a barrel chest pushed an empty dolly down the ramp and walked toward them. “Where’s Jack?” he said. “We’ve got a lot to load this morning.”
“I’ve been told he wanted to train for a SweetSpuds manager job in one of the shops. This is Mitch Garrett, his replacement.”
Harold didn’t look too happy, but he shook hands with Mitch, sizing him up. “Ever done any warehouse work before?”
“No.”
“Mitch will be working with you, Harold. Show him the ropes. If you need anything, just come by my office.”
“Will do. Thanks, Randy.”
As he walked away, Harold squinted at Mitch. “I can’t figure out how come you got Jack’s job. There are guys in other parts of the plant who’ve been waiting years to work here. Are you a Bauer?”
Naturally that was the man’s first question. “No.” But I’m crazy about a couple of them.
“What kind of work have you done?”
“I’m just out of the Marines.”
“Marines, huh?” He eyed Mitch once more. “Do you know anything about Bauer’s?”
“I’ve been in orientation all week.”
He nodded. “Okay. See these motor-driven carts?”
“Yeah?”
“They’re piled with bags of donut mix the guys from the mix area loaded yesterday. See this card here?” He pointed to a yellow, eight-by-ten piece of cardboard sticking out beneath one of the bags with the number three hundred on it.
Mitch nodded.
“When we put these bags on the truck and lift the bag off that card, it will have their destination. They’ve already been counted, but we’ll do it again to make sure it’s the right amount. Then we’ll push the slider against the shipment and fasten the strap. Before you start more loading, you stick the yellow card in the slot on the back of the slider so the destination is clear.”
“Got it.” So far Mitch couldn’t find anything wrong with the unique system that checked the load twice. The problem lay with the culprits who were stealing the merchandise.
“Load as many as you can onto this dolly and push it up the ramp into the truck all the way to the end. Thirty-two bags across from roof to floor make one row. How many are we loading?”
“Three hundred.”
“That makes how many rows?”
“Ten.”
“Then start counting.” Harold had all the makings of a drill sergeant. Mitch got busy while Harold kept an eagle eye on him and followed him inside. When they reached the back of the truck, Mitch could see his partner had already done a row of four stacks. Nine more rows to go.
“Start filling up another row just like it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mitch got busy. As he loaded the next row, he checked the ends of the bags that had already been loaded. No red tags. He called out the number of the row every time he finished one. Harold probably didn’t like that, either, but Mitch didn’t want to give him any reason to tell him he wasn’t up to the job.
The rest of the time they worked in silence. During the process Mitch checked the bottom seams of each bag looking for red tags among the blue. He found
five before Harold pushed the slider against the row and attached the strap.
Harold finally spoke again, handing Mitch the yellow card. “Okay.” It said San Francisco. “Put the card in the pocket on the back of the slider.” Mitch did as he was told. “Now we’ll keep loading until it’s full, then we’ll eat lunch. After that we’ll load one more truck. Your shift will be over at four-thirty.”
Randy had already given Mitch the drill, but Mitch didn’t say anything because it was obvious Harold was the type who liked to feel important. They worked steadily until noon. Mitch had checked every bag. All in all, twenty-five bags of mix had been switched for flour on this truckload headed to San Francisco through Elko and Reno.
Without saying anything to Mitch, Harold made his way to Randy’s office and went in. After a moment the two came out. Randy checked off the shipment on his clipboard. “How’s it going, Mitch?”
“Good. Everything’s straightforward. Harold’s an excellent trainer.” For now every person in the plant was suspect in Mitch’s eyes.
Randy smiled at Harold. “We couldn’t get along without him.” That comment didn’t seem to please Harold at all. Maybe it felt patronizing. Mitch didn’t know. “Enjoy your lunch, guys.”
After Randy excused himself, Harold took off. That gave Mitch the freedom to go out to his car. In another minute he met up with his crew in the surveillance van. They had a hamburger and fries waiting for him. He washed his hands before eating with them.
“I counted twenty-five bags of flour on that shipment we loaded. If Harold’s in on it, I’m convinced that’s why he’s so upset his partner was replaced. At the moment you could say he doesn’t like working with me. If he doesn’t know about the thefts, then he’s just a bitter man.”
Adam grinned. “You kept one step ahead of him. It probably bugged him, but that back of yours is going to be aching by tonight. I groaned every time you bent over. How’s your arm?”
“I’m supposed to be a hundred percent. So far, so good.” He gobbled his food while he looked at the various screens. “I’ll be loading another truck this afternoon. If Bruno hadn’t recovered from his stroke well enough for his friend to tell him what was going on here, this kind of crime could have gone on indefinitely.”
The Marshal's Prize (Harlequin American Romance) Page 8
