Hot Storage (7 page)

   After a grilled cheese sandwich and a can of soup, I made a pot of coffee and settled on the couch with my laptop.

   Frame by frame, camera by camera, I went back over the images.

   Close to midnight, I saw something.

   Or thought I did.

   I checked the time stamps on the camera recordings to the hard copy pages of the log in sheets.

   The rental truck, a popular name, logged in on a six hundred code as close as I could figure. The truck was parked in front of the four hundred building. The two buildings bracketed the same aisle, across from each other, the drive being wide enough for another vehicle to pass one parked there.

   A dark blue van pulled up beside the rental, effectively blocking the aisle for a short period of time. Long enough that I would have gone out and had one of them move if I noticed. Just nine minutes.

   Eleven minutes later the same van pulled into the same place, beside the rental truck, going the other direction. This time, just briefly, the driver’s face was visible.

   I backed up the image and double checked the printout.

   No one had logged out in those eleven minutes.

   For some reason, the van had moved out of camera range, then returned eleven minutes later.

   I froze the frame with the driver’s face and printed it out.

   Blurry, yes, but a thread. The driver appeared to be Hispanic, a thin mustache and a soul patch on his bottom lip, long hair topped with a baseball cap shadowing his eyes.

   He climbed out of the truck, walked back to check a tire, or the gas tank door, something his body blocked from sight. Two minutes. Then he went back to the cab, looked around for just a second or two, and climbed in. Another minute. He started the truck and pulled out, disappearing from range.

   I looked down at my notes, wondering if I had found something.

   My eyes burned from the late hours, staring at the screen, so I called it a night. Shutting down the computer, I cleaned up my dishes and cleared the table, scooping the printed photo, the logs and my notes into a pile. I slipped the thin stack into a folder and stuck it under the coffee table, to be filed tomorrow.

   Checking the lot one last time, I ran through the camera’s one at a time. Nothing moved, nothing changed. Everything quiet and normal.

   I shut everything down and went to bed.

   The rest of the week was busy, with the rents all due and a few empties to clean and rent. Burke was still absent so the cleaning duties all fell to me. Once the office closed, it was roll out the cart and start getting the units ready to rent.

   I doubled the time I spent cruising the lot after hours, hoping to see something, anything that would give me an idea. Wasted effort. Nothing out of the ordinary.

   On Thursday I locked up in time to pick up chicken tacos from the Mexican restaurant before the football game started. Back at home I pulled on sweats, grabbed my dinner and parked in front of the television, just after kickoff. Neither of the teams was a favorite but it was football and I needed a break.

   Sure enough, the missing Burke showed up before the first quarter ended. He looked rough – unshaven, circles under his eyes, and a general worn out expression. Not the usual perky, upbeat smart ass I was accustomed to.

   “Didn’t expect you, so no dinner,” I said, standing aside for him to come on in. “There’s ham or peanut butter if you want a sandwich.”

   He dropped wearily onto the couch and dropped his head back, closing his eyes.

   “Not even hungry,” he said from that position. “Just glad to be home.”

   I resumed my seat and picked up my beer.

   “I have beer or soda,” I said, my eyes going back to the screen.

   “I’ll get something in a minute,” he said softly.

   I left him alone, a little concerned that he considered this ‘home’. We might have to talk about that. He was a good companion, fun to be with and I enjoyed his company. Home? Not happening.

   I finished my tacos and my beer in silence.

   At half time I picked up my mess and took it to the kitchen.

   When I turned around to go back in the living room Burke was there, close behind me. Without a word he gathered me in his arms and pulled me against his chest. My hands automatically went around him and we stood there for minutes, sort of rocking back and forth and holding each other.

   He rubbed his cheek against mine and then I felt his lips on my neck.

   I stepped back and dropped my arms.

   Looking at him, his eyes shadowed, looking almost bruised, I couldn’t read his expression, or his intention. I enjoyed his company but I was not about to climb in the sack with him.

   After a long moment he seemed to reach the same conclusion and stepped back, giving me a lot more room. He shook his head a couple of times and looked back at me.

   “Sorry, Marlena, just so damned tired.”

   “Want me to make some coffee? Fix you some eggs?”

   “Sounds good. The eggs. Not the coffee. Maybe some toast? Milk? I’ve had enough coffee to float a battleship.”

   “Sure, no problem. You go sit down and I’ll get it together.”

   With a deep sigh he turned around and went back to the living room while I pulled out a carton of eggs.

   I scrambled a couple of eggs with some cheese, buttered a couple of slices of toast and carried the plate and a glass of milk into the living room.

   Burke was sound asleep, slumped into a corner of the couch, his feet still on the floor.

   I set the plate and milk on the table and looked at the man on my couch.

   After a minute I picked up the stuff and took it back to the kitchen. Returning I grabbed a blanket off my bed and covered Burke, after first removing his shoes and lifting his legs up to the couch.

   He groaned once, and stretched out a little bit but never actually woke up.

   I locked up and turned off the lights, leaving the light on the stove on in case Burke woke up disoriented. I turned off the television and went to brush my teeth.

   In bed I picked up my Kindle and read for a while. When I turned off the light I could hear Burke snoring in the other room. I drifted off to sleep listening to him, surprised at how comforting the sound was.

   He was still sleeping the next morning, having turned over and pulled the blanket close. He looked a lot younger relaxed like that.

   I started the coffee, grabbed some clothes and went to the bathroom, not wanting to get caught dressing.

   Drying off after my shower I thought I heard voices. Maybe Burke had turned on the television. I dressed quickly and hurried out to the living room, the smell of fresh coffee filling the room.

   My boss, one of them anyway, Paul Murphy sat on my couch holding a cup of coffee. Burke sat in my chair likewise armed with coffee.

   “Good morning,” I said, moving straight to the kitchen.

   “Good morning,” Paul replied.

   “Morning, babe,” Burke said as I passed him. “Coffee’s ready.”

   Of course the coffee is ready, I started it before my shower. I poured a cup, added milk, and listened to the silence in my living room.

   “Paul is here,” Burke said, coming around the corner. “Why don’t you talk to him and I’ll get some breakfast going.”

   I gave Burke a look that should have frozen him to floor and went around him.

   “What can I do for you, Paul?” I asked, claiming my chair.

   Paul is another big guy, reported to be quite a player around town, and in his eyes I could read exactly what he thought he knew. There was a sparkle, a glint I had never seen before. Preferring not to draw even more attention to the situation by trying to explain, I tried to look unconcerned. Not easy when I would prefer to kick Burke down the stairs and count how many he hit on the way down.

   “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Paul began, with a knowing little grin. “The office wasn’t open and I wanted to check with you about the drug guys.”

   I interrupted. “The office opens at nine,” I told him. “It’s only eight.”

   “Right, okay, then,” he was still smirking at me. I wanted to slap him and fortunately thought better of it.

   He settled back in to the couch cushions and sipped from his cup.

   “As far as the ‘drug guys’ go, that’s your man right there. Ask him.”

   Paul leaned forward and shook his pony tail back over his shoulder, finishing his coffee and setting the cup down.

   “Well, he didn’t have much to offer,” he said with a grin. “I woke him up.”

   I counted to ten and took a deep breath.

   “I emailed a report,” I began. “The drugs went missing. No idea how. I’ve triple checked all our cameras and logs. Could have been one of maybe a dozen people. It’s even possible they somehow got past the cameras during the night, but I doubt that one. I sent Agent Miller the same report I sent to you.”

   “So we got nothing,” Paul said.

   “Yes, sir. That’s about it.”

   Burke had come back, taking a stance behind my chair.

   Paul looked at him. “So, it’s no help for you to be here. A waste of time.”

   “He’s got a lot of work done,” I interrupted. “Repaired units, cleaned up.”

   Paul’s eyes shot to me. “We don’t pay him to maintain this place. Is it getting to be too much for you? Should we be looking for another manager?”

   My temper flashed and I bit down on the inside of my cheek to stop my first response.

   “My understanding is that I could hire any help I needed, to offset being single. I haven’t hired anyone. I’ve done it myself and the facility is doing very well. Burke has done the work around here as part of the undercover project.”

   “Whoa, don’t get huffy with me,” Paul responded. “I’m just asking. I am the owner. I have the right to know what’s happening on my property.”

   I sighed. “Yes, sir, you’re right. I’ve kept you in the loop with weekly reports. I don’t know what else I can tell you. Perhaps you could check with Agent Miller or Detective Kincaid. Their numbers are in my reports. They may have more information than I do.”

   Burke stepped around my chair to face Paul.

   “I’ve been out of town,” he told the other man. “I will get in touch with the Bureau and see if they’ve learned anything new, but I sincerely doubt it. No one is to blame for those drugs going missing. I’ve looked at the tapes, checked the whole lot. I disagree that there’s no need for me to be here. They came back. Whoever it is, came back to retrieve those drugs.”

   “Hell yes they did,” Paul said. “That was a lot of money.”

   Burke cocked an eyebrow at him. “You know that for a fact?”

   Paul looked uncomfortable for a second, just a flash of red in his cheeks. “Just from reading and seeing the news. Anyone can figure out that nine boxes of drugs is a lot of money.”

   “Agreed,” Burke said. “Enough that someone came back for them.”

   “So they’re gone. No need for you to hang around.”

   Burke chuckled and shook his head. “You want me to rent a unit, Paul? That make you feel better?”

   Paul stood up. “That has nothing to do with it, Burke. I don’t care if you move in here. Looks like you already have.” He smirked at me.

   “Hang on,” I said, standing too. “Burke was here late, and fell asleep on the couch.”

   “I don’t care,” Paul interrupted again. “No skin off my nose. What I am saying is that I have someone on my property that doesn’t belong here. If the drugs are gone, he doesn’t need to here.”

   “That bother you? Me being on the property? You have something to hide?” Burke went on the attack, his eyes hard, the muscles in his jaw clenching.

   “Not a damn thing,” Paul answered with a shrug. “State wants to pay you to loaf around I got no problem with it. Just don’t see a need for it. And I’ll tell the old man that, too.”

   That sounded like a threat.

   “I disagree,” Burke countered. “You don’t get it. Someone put the drugs here. Was that the first time? Have they been using this place all along? We don’t know. Yet. We do know they came back. They may not know we’re onto the plan. There is a possibility they’ll stay with the system. If I can shut down a limb of this tree, we all benefit. It’s worth a shot. What’s to lose?”

   “I’ll talk to the old man, see what he says,” Paul said. He eased around the coffee table and went towards the front door. Burke stepped back and let him go.

   “I can talk to your dad,” Burke said. “I really feel like this could be a break.”

   Paul looked at me, and then at Burke. “All right. Give it another couple of weeks. Then we’ll get together and see where to go from there.”

   “Fair enough,” Burke said, holding out his hand. “It’s good to see you again, Paul.”

   Paul shook hands and opened the door. “Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said on his way out, winking at me.

   “We will,” Burke answered, and closed the door behind him.

   “Here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten me into,” I told him once Paul’s footsteps faded down the stairs.

   Burke grinned at me.

   “He’s just jealous,” he chuckled. “Always has been.”

   “Nothing for him to be jealous of,” I corrected. “You know what happened as well as I do.”

   “He doesn’t know that,” Burke laughed. “I love getting his goat. Keeps him on his toes.”

   “And he’s gonna get on my toes,” I said, getting up and going to the kitchen. “I guarantee that is not going to go over well.”

   “Ah, come on, Marlena,” Burke argued, coming to fill his cup again. “No harm done. It’s not like you have someone else. Even your boss can’t tell you who you can date.”

   He was right. Didn’t help. I was still ticked off.

   “You’re up, you’re dressed, you’re out of here,” I told him, turning my back.

   “Come on, babe. Not even breakfast? I already cooked the bacon.”

   I counted to ten again, then turned and leaned back against the counter. “You’ve done enough damage today. Go to work. You can buy breakfast at Kelly’s or hit the drive through.”

   Burke sighed and set his cup down. He needed a shave, his thick blond hair was flattened on one side, and his shirt wrinkled in fifty places, still better than he had looked when he rolled in last night. The circles under his eyes weren’t as dark nor as puffy.

   “Thanks for the couch,” he mumbled, heading for the door.

   “You’re welcome,” I said, and left it at that.

   He gave me a long, searching look before he finally opened the door and closed it behind him.

   I opened the office and promptly checked all the cameras to be sure Paul Murphy was off the premises. Once I was sure he was absent, I put on another pot of coffee and went to work.

   With the events of the morning, I had forgotten to show Burke the picture I had printed off. Coming out of the shower, dressed and ready for coffee to find your boss on the couch is not a good start on the day.

   I brought the file down at lunch and went over it again, seeing nothing new. I stuck it under the counter to give to Burke the next time I saw him. Whenever that would be.

   I just finished that thought when he walked in.

   He looked a whole lot better than he had this morning, having shaved and cleaned up. A white collar peeked over a green sweater worn over jeans. He looked a little sheepish.

   I waited, giving him the lead.

   He glanced around the office, folded his arms and leaned on the counter.

   “Are we speaking?”

   “Of course. Can I help you?”

   Burke chuckled. “How about I say I’m sorry? Really, all I did was open the door. You were in the shower. It could have been a customer, you know. What if someone was stuck in the gate? Or a door fell? I mean, after all, the customers know me, I’ve been around for a while. If it was an emergency I could have handled it.”

   Valid points all. He could indeed have handled almost anything, including opening the office if need be. He had keys. There was no way he could have known Paul would come by the apartment. That in itself was unusual. None of the Murphy clan ever came to my living quarters, not even when I was hired. The previous manager had shown me around.

   “Apology accepted,” I told him. “It really wasn’t your fault.”

   “Thank you,” Burke smiled, and moved around to take a seat at the counter. “Now, how about dinner? Let me take you out for a change.”

   I thought about it. “I don’t think so,” I said.

   “Afraid to be seen with me? It’s just dinner. At Kelly’s,” he added naming the diner in Monarch that was everyone’s favorite place to eat. “It’s Thursday, chicken and dumplings. I’ll even spring for dessert.”

   He looked so sincere, batting his lashes at me while trying not to grin.

   “Fine,” I said. “Let me get locked up.”

   He straightened up and went to flip the signs. “I’ll help.”

   Kelly’s is a diner, a casual place with the best food in the county and the best prices. Always reasonable, always tasty, and almost always leftovers to be brought home and reheated later. If you’re not too late they have wonderful pies from the local bakery.

   On our way out I grabbed the folder from under the counter.

   We drove to Kelly’s in Burke’s truck, a newer model with all the bells and whistles, exchanging small talk. He asked about the folder I had placed on the seat.

   “Something for you to look at later,” I explained. “I finally found a frame with a partial look at the driver of the Move It truck. Thought maybe you might recognize him although it’s not the best copy in the world.”

   “I’ll look at it tonight,” he said. “Anything else come up?”

   “Not that I can see,” I answered. “It must be happening at night. Somehow they’re getting in and avoiding the cameras. Only other way is careful planning, using someone else to block the view. That would be tricky.”

   “The thing is,” Burke began, turning into Kelly’s parking lot, “that unit is not important.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “Think about it, babe. That was only nine cartons. A lot of drugs, granted, but not a full load. Were there more? And where were they? That unit was empty, right? Before they put those cartons in?”

   “Yes. It was supposed to be. It had one of the little yellow snap tags on the door. I put that on myself.”

   He turned off the truck and angled towards me. “I think that was leftovers or extras, that they had filled another unit somewhere close and didn’t have enough room for those last boxes. Or maybe someone interrupted them and they had to dump them off quick. The rest of the load was delivered on schedule, wherever that was. I think they came back to see if those nine were still there, and when they were? They took them.”

   “So you think another unit is being used to store the drugs. Couldn’t a dog find it?”

   Burke sighed deeply and turned back around. “Dogs could find the truck. Not necessarily the unit. Depends on so many things. So many scents can camouflage the smell of drugs. Coffee, cinnamon, even vanilla can override the smell. Plus, that was careful packaging. The plastic bags, inside a plastic covered carton and wrapped in more plastic. Not a lot of smell coming through all that. Come on, let’s eat. I’ll look at the pictures later. Let’s just get away from it all for a while.”

   He stepped down from the truck and jogged around to open my door.

   Not accustomed to such actions I had already popped the door and started to step down. Burke caught my arm and held it till I was on my feet.

   “Sorry,” I murmured, “not used to help.”

   “You don’t need help, babe, I know that. My mama just raised me to be polite to women. All women.”

   Glancing at him I could see his grin in the dim light of the parking lot.

   “Come on,” he said, taking my arm again, “let’s go eat.”

   We had a nice dinner, both of us ordering the chicken and dumplings, which came with a side salad, and iced tea.

   We exchanged small talk while we ate, nothing about the case or the events of the morning, dwelling mostly on old movies and a book Burke had just finished and recommended to me.

   He paid and we left, me with a Styrofoam box of leftovers.

   When we were back at the facility Burke wanted to take a drive through. I opted to be dropped at the gate.

   Instead Burke turned in and parked at the bottom of the stairs.

   Turning off the engine, he reached for the door handle. “Stay,” he said, and hopped out to come around and open my door for me.

   “This isn’t necessary,” I told him as he helped me down from the truck. “You could have just dropped me off. Go take a look around. I can manage the stairs just fine.”

   Burke tugged the arm he was holding and drew me close. “I asked you out. That is a form of date, like it or not. I will see you to your door.”

   “Mama again?”

   He laughed out loud, and hugged me against his side. “Yep, that’s it. She would shoot me if I just dropped you at the gate.”

   I leaned against him for a minute, careful to keep my box of leftovers to the side. “Does your mom live close by?”

   He let me go quickly and stepped back, guiding me towards the stairs with a hand on my back. “She’s dead,” he said flatly. “Years ago.”

   “Oh, I’m so sorry!” He had never mentioned family and I felt rather foolish.

   “No need. Long time ago.” He glanced at me and his look softened. “You didn’t know.”

   I led the way upstairs and unlocked the door. Burke followed me in, closing the door behind him. While I put the leftovers in the fridge he took a seat on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Déjà vu.

   “If you’re that tired you better head home.”

   He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that a request? Or an order?”

   “Take it any way you choose. Thank you for dinner.” I remained standing.

   He took the hint and stood up, pulling his keys from his pocket.

   “You’re welcome, Marlena. I enjoyed it. Hope we can do it again.” He was moving for the door as he talked and I followed a step behind him. At the door he paused and turned back to me, darting in and giving me a quick kiss. “Thanks for going with me.”

   “I had a good time, too,” I said, easing back a step. “You be in tomorrow?”

   He smiled and stepped outside. “Yes, boss. I’ll be here.”

   I stood in the open door and watched him down the stairs. “Take a look at that file,” I called after him. “I left it on the seat.”

   He waved a hand over his shoulder. “Will do. Good night.”

   “Good night, Burke. Thanks again for dinner.”

   He waved again and drifted into the dark at the bottom of the stairs.

   I locked up behind him.

   True to his word he was on the lot when I opened the office. I could see the cart parked near Building 3 although he wasn’t in sight. I went in and started the coffee, figuring he would be in shortly.

   By the time the coffee finished he came in looking much better than the last few days. He was flushed from the sun or the effort, putting some color in his freshly shaved face. His eyes were bright and clear.

   “Good morning,” I said when he came in, handing him a cup of coffee. “You started early.”

   “Yes, ma’am. Wanted to get after it.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Got an idea I wanted to run past you.” He paused long enough to sip coffee.

   “Go ahead,” I told him, lifting my own cup.

   “That space along the fence, in the back, space 29.”

   I nodded.

   “How about I bring my motor home down here, park in that space? I can watch the place from there, give us another perspective. Maybe see something at night. What do you think?”

   I thought about it for a minute and nodded again. “Up to you. I don’t think the Murphy’s will care, although I will have to clear it with Paul or Papa Murphy.”

   Burke scoffed. “You don’t need to worry about me. What can happen? I fall down the steps to the motor home? Just thought it might be a good idea, be around here at night.”

   “I’ll clear it with the Murphys. Get back to you as soon as I know something. Do you really think it will help?”

   Burke took in a few gallons of air and blew it out loudly. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I’m running out of ideas. I’ve been on this thing so long I don’t know what to do. It’s one dead end after another.”

   “Do you really think this is a regular deal? Them using my facility to store drugs?”

   “Store? No, I don’t think so. That’s too static, too easy to stumble across. Do I think it may be regular drop off point? Yes. Sadly, I do. If you think about it, perfect place to change loads. Boat comes in late at night, gets unloaded into a rental truck of some kind. Or even a moving van, hell, a turnip truck! Something. Say you’re running late, or daylight rolls around, whatever. You need a place to split up the cargo, someplace to store it till someone else can pick up their half. You can’t just park on the side of the road, Marlena. You don’t want to draw attention to it, you know? What better place than a storage yard? This area of the state there’s not a lot of big warehouses, like a big furniture warehouse or a big materials warehouse. The big buildings in Jade are filled with boats or boat parts.”