Hot Storage

by Mary Mead

  Have you ever had one of those days when you wake up, stretch and give thanks for weekends only to find out it’s Friday? Welcome to my world. I was half way through my shower when it hit me that I had another work day on my plate.

  That start on the day can only go downhill. Finding Paul Murphy parked in front of the office was proof.

  I unlocked the front door, turned the sign to ‘Open’ and went to my desk to boot up the computer. I heard Paul’s truck door slam before I got to my chair. Sitting I pasted on my ten cent smile and greeted him.

  “Morning, Marlie,” he said. “How are you this fine day?”

  “Glad it’s Friday,” I said. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Yeah, you can explain why my key to the front door doesn’t work. Something I should know?” He leaned on the counter with both hands.

  “I changed out the locks. Patrick is getting the new keys copied for you. He said he’d have them today.”

  “Trick? How did he get them? Has he been hanging around here?”

  I shook my head. “No, sir. He helped finish installing the new door knobs yesterday afternoon. He volunteered to get the keys duplicated,” I explained while wondering why he was trying to get in the office. “Is there something you needed?”

  “Yeah, I need this week’s deposit records. Stay put, I can get them,” he said, going into the back office. I heard him rustling around for a few minutes. He came out carrying a manila file folder. “I copied these so you can keep the originals.”

  “Okay. Do you still want me to email the week’s totals?”

  “Monday as usual. I wanted to get an idea of how we’re doing this month. I’ll talk to Trick about those keys. In the future, you work for me. I am your supervisor. You want to change locks, you clear it with me first.”

  “Yes, sir. I didn’t know it was necessary. I should have changed the locks when I first took the job. The other managers might have copies, they might have forgotten to turn them all in. With the recent problems I thought it was a necessary move.”

  Paul looked at me and nodded. “You’re right, we should have done that when the other managers left. They weren’t the most reliable people. I should have thought of it. It’s all right this time. Just remember in the future, run anything like this past me first.”

  “I will. I didn’t realize I needed permission.”

  “Like you said, with recent events around here it brings me up a little short when I’m locked out of my own business. I apologize if I was rude. You can understand my concern.”

  “No need to apologize,” I smiled. “You are the boss. I’ll remember to check with you on any changes in the future.”

  “How’s Burke? I haven’t seen him around.”

  “I assume he’s all right. He was on the lot the other day.”

  “He’s still hanging around here?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Has he found anything? Heard anything?”

  “You’d have to ask him. He doesn’t report to me,” I said.

  “That right? I thought you two were an item,” he smiled.

  I took a breath before I answered. “We’re friends.”

  “With benefits?” His smirk looked oily, his eyes half closed as he watched my face.

  “Mr. Murphy, sir. We have had this conversation before. If you are unhappy with my job performance fire me. Otherwise, I have work to do.”

  He tossed me a smile that made me want another shower. “I was just teasing you, Marlie. Don’t be so sensitive. You’re like family to us. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You didn’t upset me, Paul. It’s Friday and I have a lot of work to do. If there’s nothing else I’ll get to it.”

  “It’s Friday, take it easy. Close up early if you want, take the afternoon off.”

  “Thanks, I might do that,” I said with no intention of following through.

  “Well, you have a nice day.”

  “You too.”

  With that he left and I heard his truck start. When I couldn’t hear it any more I went into the kitchen and washed my hands and face before making a pot of coffee. I was either going to quit or talk to Papa Murphy again. I didn’t like that idea at all.

  On the plus side I knew who was in the office when I wasn’t around. Paul had all that information he was supposed to be looking for on his desk. I sent it over every Monday morning. He lied about his purpose in the office. What else had he lied about? One little check mark for Mr. Paul.

  Around lunch time Mrs. Murphy pulled up at the gate and honked. I waved from the window, put the ‘Manager Outside, Please Wait’ sign on the door and locked the office. By the time I got the cart and drove out to her unit she was fumbling around with the lock.

  I took her keys, opened the unit and handed them back to her. “Good morning, Mrs. M, how are you today?”

  “Wonderful,” she trilled. “I found so many good books today! And some wonderful antique glass. And I still have to go to the church rummage sale tomorrow. It’s a very good week for me.”

  She seemed to be past me taking away the unit yesterday. “Can I help you unload?”

  Beaming, she lifted the hatchback of the SUV and stood aside. “If you would be so kind, I would appreciate it. Those boxes get heavier as the day goes on. I think the sun swells them or something.”

  The back was filled with boxes of books. I smiled at her, picked up the closest one and picked it up. “Are we putting them in the same rows as yesterday?”

  With a frown she stepped inside the unit and put her hands on her hips. “I have to have more room. This is not acceptable. I can’t work in here! I want some more space.”

  All the time she complained I was standing holding the heavy carton. “Where do you want this one?” I had my own suggestion but kept it to myself.

  Her sigh could have been heard in town. “Just stack them right there by the door. I’m going to talk to the boys,” she said, rattling her keys. “What good is it to own a storage facility if you can’t use it? Am I right?”

  Oh, boy. Not taking sides in this one. “Let me get these unloaded for you,” I said, ignoring her question. I set down the carton I was holding and went back for another. Mrs. M. wandered to the center row of cartons and opened up the nearest one. Those we had unloaded yesterday. No complaints from the lady.

  I worked as quick as I could, feeling my back muscles stretch out as I made trip after trip, from the car to the unit and back. The last boxes were tight against the back of the front seat and I had to crawl inside the cabin to tug them back so I could get a grip on them. I pulled them along while I backed out so I wouldn’t have to crawl in here again. My knees were right at the hinge, my feet hanging out in space as I tugged them back.

  A wolf whistle split the air and I jumped, banging my head on the roof of the car. Cuss words danced on my tongue as I backed the rest of the way out and got to my feet. I turned around to meet the happy smile of Patrick Murphy.

  “Nice view there, Red,” he grinned before his mother threw her arms around his neck.

  “Patrick! I am so happy to see you,” she squealed like a girl. “Come here and look at this,” she said, tugging on his hand.

  He followed along but his head was turned toward me and I saw his wink.

  I pulled the next carton out and froze.

  Like the other cartons this one was filled with books. Wedged in willy-nilly were several dozen hard cover books. The spaces between were filled with paperbacks. The books didn’t get my attention. The carton did.

  Old sealing tape covered both sides, one end dangling loose at the seam. Packing tape with the distinctive red, green and white fibers reinforcing it. The Christmas tape. I had seen it before. On cartons of drugs.

  I could hear Mrs. M. telling Patrick about the need for more space. A quick glance told me they were inside the unit, away from the door. I pulled out my cell phone and took a couple of shots of the carton and its tape. With the phone jammed back in my pocket I lifted
the box and carried it inside.

  Mrs. M. was in high gear now, listing the reasons she needed more space.

  I glanced at Patrick. He rolled his eyes before looking to heaven for an answer. I smiled in spite of myself.

  He stepped over and took the carton from me. “I’ve got it,” he said. “Let me do this. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

  “Thank you,” I said and meant it. Dusting my hands against my fanny I backed toward the door. “If you need any more help, just holler.” As soon as I cleared the door I jogged back to the cart and headed for the office as fast as the little cart would go.

  The question now was who do I show?

  In the office I sent the images on my phone to my email address giving me copies if I needed them. I would figure out who to send them to after I had time to think about it.

  An hour later Mrs. Murphy left and her son made for the office.

  Patrick came in and went around the counter straight to the map of the facility on the wall behind me.

  “Can I help you?”

  That’s asking for it, I thought, too late.

  With one eyebrow raised he looked at me. “Well, yeah, you can,” he grinned. “The question is will you?” Those damnable blue eyes sparkled. I expected one of those cartoon stars to twinkle in them any minute.

  I felt the warmth in my cheeks and started counting to ten. “Let’s try that again,” I said. “Is there something I can do for you?” Stepped in my own trap.

  He laughed and turned to face me. “You are a trip, Red. You’re more fun than puppies.”

  I decided to shut up.

  Still chuckling Patrick put out a hand and ruffled my hair. “How about I give you one apology now and it lasts for the rest of the year?”

  “No need,” I said. “What are you looking for?”

  “I hear you caught a rat.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about so I kept my mouth shut.

  “Paul came looking for keys this morning.”

  “I told him you were getting the duplicates.”

  “He told me.” He nodded and looked at the map.

  “What’s the biggest unit we have?”

  I joined him in front of the map. “This one,” I pointed. “It’s really four units in one. The dividing walls were never built.”

  “What’s in there now?”

  “Your mother.”

  “She has this one, too? How many does she have?”

  I tapped the units as I listed them. “The big one, plus this, this and this.”

  He considered. “She has the company locks? You can open them?”

  I nodded.

  He scanned the map again, right to left.

  I waited.

  “How often is she here? Is there a pattern?”

  “Depends. Usually it’s Mondays and Fridays but it can be any time. Kind of depends on how many yard sales and rummage sales she hits on the weekend. Neptune week and Mardi Gras she’s in and out every day, getting things for her shops.”

  Patrick scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “All right,” he said. “Let me think about it. I’ll see if we can’t compact her down some. She spreads her stuff out, takes more room than she needs.” He tapped the largest unit. “We need to move all of her stuff in here, see if we can empty out these other units. If we can get it all in here we can repack and restack her stuff, see how much space we can gain. Then we start backing her up,” he tapped the map. “Keep condensing her stuff, getting her to move it out or get rid of some of it. After that, we put up another wall, pen her in. What do you think?”

  “It’ll work,” I said. “Unless she catches you at it.” I couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “Then you’re gonna be a big fish in a little bitty bucket.” I looked up to see him smiling back at me.

  “You have a nice smile. You should smile more often,” he said. He waited a minute. “You’re getting used to me. No blush. That’s a shame.”

  Shaking my head I turned my back and sat down at my desk.

  “I’m on the record,” Patrick said behind me. “I already apologized for the rest of the year. I’m not due again till January.”

  I heard him before he came into view, moving around the counter and heading for the front door. He paused there and looked at me. “We’ll get on that next week. I’ll see you then.” With a wink he shut the door behind him and left.

  The door opened immediately. John Kincaid came in, looking back over his shoulder. Behind him a truck fired up and faded away.

  “Who was that?”

  “Patrick Murphy.”

  “Ah, the bachelor,” he grinned. “Heard a lot about him, never met him.” He came to the counter. “Good morning. You have a few minutes?”

  “Of course.” Now it was down to a game of who do you trust? I had to make a decision. “How long have you been here?”

  “Maybe four minutes. Why?”

  “I meant in the area,” I smiled at him.

  “Little over two years. Why?”

  Decision made. “I have something to show you.” The Murphy family, Paul and Patrick, and friend Declan Burke had been in Monarch for decades. John was relatively new. If someone or two was dealing in drugs it stood to reason it would be someone familiar with the area.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and thumbed through the photos. I held it out.

  “What’s this?”

  “Pictures I just took. Couple of them.”

  Kincaid looked at the phone, turned it, and tapped the screen to enlarge the photo. Looking up at me he said, “This is a box of books.”

  “Look at the tape. On the sides.”

  He looked at the phone and back at me. “It’s a box of books with tape on the side.”

  I shook my head and pointed. “That tape. It’s unusual. See the little red strings in the tape?”

  He looked again at the phone. “It’s reinforced. Standard packing tape.”

  “Not standard, no. The red thread, and the green and white is rare. It’s not quite so apparent on that picture because the screen is so small. I had never seen it until a few weeks ago.”

  He waited.

  “On the cartons,” I said.

  He waited for me to explain.

  With a sigh, I closed the phone. “The cartons with the drugs. This same tape was on them. Taped pretty close to the same way, those side bands on each, three rows of tape both ways.”

  “Show me again,” he said.

  I thumbed back to the photos and handed the phone back.

  Now he took the time to really look at the picture on my phone.

  “You sure?”

  “Yep. I noticed the tape the first time. Thought about getting some for the holidays, because of the colors. The red, green and white.”

  “Be right back,” he said, handing me my phone. He went outside.

  He was gone for a while so I went back to work, getting the week’s reports ready. I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake. Maybe the fact that John had a shorter history with the town wasn’t important. I should have gone to Agent Miller, who had no ties at all to Monarch.

  The detective came back inside, smiling.

  “Correct,” he said. “Good job.”

  I smiled back, proud of myself. I avoided wiggling like a puppy.

  “Can you email those pictures to Miller?” He slid a card across the counter. “This address. He’s waiting.”

  I pulled out my phone again and did as he asked.

  “The burning question is where did you find this carton?”

  “In Mrs. Murphy’s car. I unloaded it yesterday. It’s in her unit right now.”

  The detective mulled it over. “You have a key?”

  “I do.”

  “Let’s go take a look.” He doubled patted the counter.

  I locked up the office, got the cart and drove him back to the unit. Inside I showed him the carton in question, having put it on top of a stack.

  “Is there a light in h
ere?”

  “Nope. Fire hazard. Some people fill these units right to the ceiling. Next to a light bulb? Could be a problem. No lights.”

  “Never thought about it,” he said, pulling out his keys. A mini Maglite flared. He ran it along the strip of packing tape. “What about fingerprints? Worth a shot?”

  “I know I handled it, so did Patrick. I assume Mrs. Murphy did, or whoever put it in her car. No idea who, or where she got it. She reuses boxes all the time. I’ve helped her repack from one to another. No telling how many have handled it. You could ask her but I doubt she’d know.”

  John straightened and turned off the light, tucking his keys back in his pocket. “It’s a lead but I have no idea where it goes,” he said after a while. He took a couple of pictures of the carton from different angles. “All right, Marlie, close it back up. Can you keep any eye on this unit?”

  “I can. One of our cameras is at the end of the aisle. No problem.”

  “If they move this carton I want to know.”

  “I’ll let you know,” I said, “I don’t watch it constantly but the recorder should pick up anyone moving boxes out. May be hard to tell which carton is which. The cameras aren’t that good.”

  “Do what you can,” he said. “In the meantime I’ll talk to Miller and the rest of the team.”

  Oh, boy. Not what I wanted to hear. I was already knee deep in the creek so I might as well swim. “Is there any way you can say you saw the carton? Leave me out of it?”

  His head whipped up. “Problem?”

  I’m in it now. “I think it might be.”

  “The owners? Your job? Talk to me, girl.”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out. “I didn’t tell Burke. Or show him. I only showed it to you.”

  “Why?”

  I locked the unit and drove us back to the office, giving myself some time to think. In the office John sat at the counter and folded his arms. “What’s the deal with Burke? Is he bothering you?”

  How do I answer that? “No, not exactly.”

  John leaned back and looked at me. Didn’t say a word, just looked at me.

  “Okay, here’s the thing. I like Burke. We’re friends. Sort of.”

  “How about you start at the beginning, Marlie? What’s going on?”