by Thomas Scott
“I was driving pretty slow, anyway,” Virgil said.
Neither man responded to his statement. Murton winked at Lawless, then walked away.
Chapter Seven
When they arrived at the MedX distribution center, they found the security chief, Terry Wade, sitting on the edge of one of the loading docks. His feet hung off the end, and he was smoking a cigarette. When Virgil and Murton turned in the gate, Wade crushed out his smoke and jumped down from the edge of the platform.
Virgil took stock of the man as they walked over. Wade was a bit on the short side, and thick through his chest and shoulders. He looked like he might have been a wrestler in high school or college. His hair was cut short and was starting to show some gray along the sides of his head. As they got closer, it looked, Virgil thought, like the man had been crying.
After the introductions were complete, Virgil asked if there was somewhere they could go to talk about everything.
Wade sort of shrugged, then sniffed. “My office, I guess.” Then he turned and walked them all inside.
The interior of the building was spotless. It was mainly one large warehouse-type structure, with giant cages bolted to the floor in rows. The cages were locked and contained plain brown boxes stacked on pallets, the boxes themselves identified only by a series of numbers, letters, and a barcode, none of which made any sense to Virgil. A line of fork trucks sat against the far wall.
“Looks like a pretty clean operation,” Virgil said.
“It is,” Wade said. “Has to be, otherwise we’d have the FDA crawling up our butts every day.” Then he said, “My office is this way.”
They walked in and Wade took a seat behind a plain utilitarian desk, while Virgil and Murton took seats right in front of him. Before they could ask any questions, Wade said, “Man, this is just awful. I can’t believe Dave is gone.”
Virgil looked at Wade and said, “It is awful, Mr. Wade—”
“Call me Terry.”
Virgil bobbed his head. “Okay. As I was saying, it is awful, Terry, and we’ll talk about Mr. Boyd in a moment, but before we do, I’d like you to walk us through your operation here. Tell us how it works.”
“I already explained all that to the DEA lady.”
“Yes, sir, I know,” Murton said. “But we need to hear it for ourselves.”
Wade puffed his cheeks, let out a heavy sigh, then said, “Believe it or not, there isn’t that much to tell. We’re the exact middle of the supply chain on controlled substances monitored by the DEA and the FDA.”
“What do you mean by the exact middle?” Virgil said.
Wade held up his hand, his fingers spread. He grabbed his thumb with his other hand, and said, “It starts with the manufacturers. They are the first part of the chain because they actually make the drugs.” He let go of his thumb and wiggled his index finger. “The manufacturer ships them out to wholesalers, who then send them to us, based on the orders we receive from pharmacies all across the state. The pharmacies are the fourth link in the chain, with the actual retail customer being the fifth. We’re sort of the Amazon Prime of controlled substances. Although from what I hear, Amazon is getting into the pharmacy business so we may be fulfilling their orders as well someday…or they may be fulfilling ours.”
Virgil turned around and looked out the window that gave onto the warehouse floor. When he turned back, he said, “I couldn’t help but notice that there aren’t too many offices in this building.”
“That’s because there aren’t. There’s no real need, beyond security, and the shift supervisor. His office is down at the other end of the warehouse.”
Virgil was a little confused. “Then how does all the work get done?”
Wade sort of shrugged. “Almost everything is automated. The orders come through on the computer, and then the shift supervisor prints out a bill of lading for the drivers. The drivers scan the barcode on the bill with a handheld device, and it tells them which of the boxes they need to take. Then they scan the boxes with the same device, and load up their trucks.”
Virgil and Murton glanced at each other for a half-second. Then Murton said, “This might be a difficult thing to answer, Terry, but in your opinion is there any chance that Mr. Boyd was a victim of his own making?”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying.”
Murton leaned forward, no more than an inch.“If you interpreted my question as an implication, then I think you do, sir.”
“You’re asking me if Dave was part of some scheme to steal the drugs?”
“That’s exactly what we’re asking,” Virgil said. “If he was involved, and something went wrong…”
Wade was already shaking his head. “No, absolutely not. I know it for a fact.”
“How’s that?” Murton said.
“Because the drivers don’t know what they’re carrying. Everything is coded. All they see is code numbers for boxes…the same code that’s on the bill of lading, by the way, and the address of the pharmacies that they deliver to.”
“Are the codes always the same?” Virgil said.
“You mean like a seven-digit code for drug X is always the same code?”
“Yes.”
Wade nodded. “But what good would that do anyone? They’re still just codes.”
Virgil and Murton ignored Wade’s question. “How many drivers do you have?” Murton said.
“Twelve. Well, eleven now, I guess I should say.”
“And you operate out of here five days a week?” Virgil said.
“Yeah. Gotta keep the supply chain moving. We cover a large territory within the state, which means we don’t go to every pharmacy every day. We usually only go to each individual stop twice a week. Sometimes there are exceptions for special orders, but on the whole, it’s pretty regular.”
“As security chief, did Mr. Boyd ever give you a reason to doubt his moral or ethical obligation to MedX or your customers?” Murton said.
“No, man. We were friends. I mean, not the go out after work kind of friends, but working friends. He was a good guy.”
“Tell us about him,” Virgil said.
“I just did,” Wade said. “He was a good guy. Hard worker, showed up on time, didn’t get in anybody’s way, willing to help out if asked, like that.”
“Did he have any family?” Virgil said. “Wife? Kids?”
Wade shook his head. “Had a girlfriend he lived with…uh, Jenny Nelson.”
“Where did he live?”
“Up north a ways, in Plymouth. I don’t know his exact address. The warehouse supervisor would have that.”
“How do we get in touch with that person?” Murton said.
“Mike Ellis. I already called him. He should be here any minute.”
Virgil looked at nothing for a few seconds, then said, “Do you have exterior security cameras?”
Wade let out a little chuckle. “In this business, you better believe it. Along with twenty-four-hour security personnel. But I know what you’re going to ask, and the answer is no. Agent Martin and I already watched the footage, and there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.”
“Mind if we take a look?” Murton said.
“I don’t mind at all, but you’re not going to see anything.”
“Well, we’re waiting on the shift supervisor, so…”
In the end, Wade had been correct. The only thing the security footage showed was a patrol car constantly circling the building overnight, then the delivery drivers showing up to begin their shifts. They watched Boyd on a split-screen, first loading his truck, then hopping in and pulling away. The camera’s view only extended about one hundred yards beyond the main gate of the facility, so there was nothing else to see. They’d just wrapped it all up, when Mike Ellis, the supervisor, stuck his head in and introduced himself. Virgil and Murton stood and shook hands with the man, then Virgil said, “May we speak to you in your office, sir?”
They walked to the other end of the warehouse and entered El
lis’s office, everyone taking the same relative positions they’d had in Wade’s. “I’d like you to know how sorry we are about your employee, Mr. Ellis. According to Mr. Wade, he was one of your best.”
“He was,” Ellis said.
They went over all the same questions they’d asked Wade and got the same answers. Then Virgil looked at Ellis and said, “Let me ask you something…Boyd lived quite a ways north of here. Seems like an awfully long commute. Why did he work here? Surely he could have found something closer to home.”
Ellis gave him a half grin. “I’m sure he could have, but we look for people who live near the customers we deliver to. Especially the far reaches of our delivery area.”
“Why?” Virgil said.
“Because those drivers keep their vehicles at their place of residence overnight. It works out for everyone.”
“How, exactly?” Murton said.
“Because the drivers start their deliveries from the closest point to our facility, and some of those customers, as I said, are quite a ways away. Boyd is the perfect example. His first stop was in Plymouth, then he’d cover his route for the day up north, and when he was finished he’d call us on the radio and then head home. Makes no sense to drive the truck all the way back here, then have the driver go all the way back home.”
“But the truck comes back anyway,” Virgil said.
“Yes, it does, but it keeps the drivers fresh and happy. Plus it’s like a little bonus for them. No cost or wear and tear on their personal vehicles.”
Murton looked at Ellis and said, “Mr. Wade told us you’d have the contact information for Mr. Boyd’s girlfriend…Jenny Nelson, I think he said.”
Ellis nodded and brought his computer up. He punched in a few keys, then hit the Print button. When the printer was finished, he handed the papers to Murton. “Here’s his address, and the emergency contact information. It does list Miss Nelson as the one to call.”
“Has anyone made that call?” Virgil said.
“Not yet. We thought, uh, the police should handle that, due to the nature of the, um, incident.”
“Has Nelson called here?” Virgil said. “If it’s her boyfriend and he didn’t end up at home yesterday after his shift…” He let the statement hang in the air.
“I don’t think she has. Let me check with Terry to make sure.” Ellis picked up his phone and made a call to the other end of the building and asked Wade if Boyd’s girlfriend had called. He listened for a few seconds then said, “Okay, thanks.” Then he turned his attention to Virgil and Murton. “He says no one has heard from her.”
Virgil and Murton exchanged another brief glance, then Virgil said, “We’ll get one of our people to make the notification.”
When they’d gotten all the information they were going to get, Virgil and Murton thanked Ellis and stood to leave. Almost as an afterthought, Virgil said, “Let me ask you one more thing, and I mean you no disrespect, but this entire operation seems a little…uh, thin.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Ellis smiled. “That’s because it is. Corporate doesn’t want any more people here than absolutely necessary. MedX has facilities all over the Midwest. Five states in all, with Indiana being right in the center.”
“Where are the corporate headquarters?” Murton said.
“In Kentucky. As I said, this is just one of five distribution centers.”
“Big business, I guess,” Virgil said.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. You should see the corporate offices. I was there once when I was first hired for this job. The place absolutely smells like money.”
Virgil, thinking back to the speedway heist, thought, I bet it doesn’t.
Chapter Eight
Virgil and Murton left the MedX distribution center and headed back to the crime scene. When they drove past the area where Murton had found the likely murder weapon, Lawless was already gone. When they got back to where Boyd’s body had been discovered, they found Chip and Mimi stripping out of their protective gear.
“Looks like you guys are wrapping it up,” Virgil said.
Mimi nodded. “Still a lot of work to do, but we’re done here. The county coroner took the body, but I’ve got tissue samples to compare, and just as a precaution we’re going to have the delivery truck towed back to the MCU garage to make sure we didn’t miss anything. Someone might want to let the MedX people know it’ll be out of commission for a while.”
Virgil made a quick call to Wade and informed him he’d be short a truck for a few days. With that done, he looked at Mimi and Chip and said, “Did Ross and Rosie find anything?”
“No, not a thing. The truth of it is, there wasn’t anything to find.”
“Where’d they go?” Virgil said.
“They’re back at the MCU, waiting on you guys. As soon as the tow truck arrives, we’re out of here as well.”
Virgil looked at Lawless and said, “Anything out where we saw that tire iron?”
“No, but I did take some soil samples for comparative purposes.”
“Okay, need us for anything else?” Virgil said.
Mimi put a little extra sauce in her voice, looked at Murton, and said, “No…not since this one up and got himself married.”
Virgil shook his head and walked back to his truck. Once he was out of earshot, Mimi said, “What’s with him?”
Murton smiled. “He gets upset every time someone reminds him that I’m the pretty one.”
Virgil got on the phone with Ross and Rosencrantz and gave them the address for Boyd’s girlfriend. “Her name is Jenny Nelson. Take a run up there and get her story. Seems odd that when Boyd didn’t return home she never called anyone. Get anything you can out of her, then inform her of Boyd’s death. In that order.”
“There goes my Saturday,” Ross said.
“Part of the job, young man,” Virgil said.
“Can we take the helicopter?” Rosencrantz said.
“No, but since no one seems to be able to reach this young woman, I’ll approve lights and siren the entire way. Speed is at your discretion.”
“Then I’m driving,” Ross said.
“Stay in touch,” Virgil said. Then he ended the call. Murton had just climbed into the truck. “I only caught the end of that.”
“I’m sending Ross and Rosencrantz up north to both check on and hopefully get some information from Boyd’s girlfriend.”
Murton laughed through his nose. “Bet Ross was happy about that.”
“Ah, he’s fine. Rosie asked if they could take the helicopter.”
“Well, at least he’s starting to get over the Freedom scare.”
“Yeah, hadn’t thought of that,” Virgil said. Then, “Where’s Becky working from? Shop or MCU?” The shop was the office above the bar that Virgil and Murton owned, along with their two Jamaican friends, Delroy Rouche, and Robert Whyte.
“She’s at the shop.”
Virgil dropped the truck in gear and headed that way.
When Kono finally left to go take care of Boyd’s girlfriend, he felt sick to his stomach. Johnny was right, she had to go, but Kono had been intimate with her, and now he was thinking that killing her might be harder than he originally thought. Taking out her boyfriend didn’t bother him at all, but this was different. Plus, when he thought about it, she wasn’t half bad in bed. The trick was not to look at her teeth. Jenny had been on the pipe a little too long.
He was running up 31, watching his speed, when he realized if he got some food in his stomach—maybe a McDonald’s or something—he might feel better. When he saw the sign sticking up high in the air, he changed lanes, slowed down, then turned into the lot and went inside. He spent an hour, eating as slowly as possible, then went back for seconds. Sometimes he thought those breakfast muffins really hit the spot. After he finished, he went into the bathroom and washed his hands. When he got back in his vehicle, he noticed that he needed gas. He pulled around to the pump and began to fill his tank, letting the gas flow as slowly as po
ssible. He was stalling, and he knew it. He was still forty-five minutes away.
When the pump finally shut off, Kono paid the attendant, then got back on the highway. Out of habit, he checked the glove box to make sure his Glock was still there, which it was. In less than an hour, Jenny would be dead.
Unless I have a little fun with her first, Kono thought.
Ross had a state car similar to Murton’s Dodge Charger, the only difference being the color. Murton’s was white, and Ross had taken one in black. They were flying up the same highway as Kono, the lights and siren clearing their way. They left the lights on the entire time, but only used the siren when necessary. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to talk.
Rosencrantz looked at his partner and said, “You guys tell him yet?”
Ross kept his eyes on the road. With the speed they were carrying, he didn’t dare look away. He shook his head and said, “No, haven’t had the chance. We were going to this morning, but then everything got turned around. Maybe we’ll do it tonight. Or tomorrow.”
“How do you think he’ll take it?” Rosencrantz said.
“Murt thought he’d be okay with the whole thing.”
Rosencrantz laughed at him.
“What?”
“Nothing, that just sounds like Murt. He’s got this ‘it’ll all work out’ attitude, even though sometimes it doesn’t.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, it isn’t working.”
“I’m not. There’s no need. It’s your life, and Sarah’s. Liv’s too. How’s that going, by the way? With little Liv?”
“It’s going okay…I think. Sarah says it is, and I trust her judgment.”
They were quiet for a few seconds as Ross had to turn the siren back on. When they’d cleared a gaggle of vehicles, he said, “I know this isn’t right, but based on experience and firsthand knowledge of the man, I’m expecting the worst, and then maybe it’ll all blow over.”
