Read Between the Tines (11 page)

A tour? How odd. I was here to talk about
Gary
, not watch the jarring of pickles. "I don't want to take up too much of your time. Perhaps we can get right to my questions." Not waiting for him to agree, I rushed on. "I know the factory has been open for eight years, but did
Gary
work here from the beginning?"

Nathan frowned and gestured down the hall. "We'll be more comfortable talking about this in my office." He lumbered away and I kicked it up a notch to catch up with him. He glanced down on me as if surprised I was still here and said, "Gary and I transferred from our
Texas
plant three years ago. We both worked our way up to management at that plant. I've known
Gary
for nearly ten years."

At a windowless metal door wrapped in the same thick wood of the lobby, Nathan swiped a keycard down a reader and when the latch released, he opened the door.

I stepped into a mini-foyer with two banks of elevators facing each other and glass doors leading into office areas on the opposite walls. "You sure have a lot of security around here. Seems like overkill for making pickles."

He chuckled and punched the up button for the elevator. "Probably so, but you'd be surprised at the things people try these days. This floor houses personnel and information technology so we're extra careful here."

"Personnel. Then
Gary
's office is on this floor. Can I see it?"

"I'm not sure what purpose that would serve." His words, though he tried to make them sound questioning, were said with an unyielding tone meaning no way.

So I did what I always do when told no. Cleared the refusal from my head and pushed back. "Karen wants me to be thorough. It would be a shame to further traumatize the widow."

His face blanched, and he seemed to think over my request. Something was odd about this guy. On the surface, he seemed likeable and jovial, but a current of something else ran under the lumpy surface. He was like an obedient plant. Contrary to their name, some of the varieties are the most disobedient perennials around, aggressively invading neighboring plants. The perennial was named one thing, but acted another way. Just like Nathan who was now looking around as if seeking escape.

I opened my mouth shamelessly to bring up Karen's name again, but before I could speak, he said, "Follow me."

He went to the glass doors on the right and slid his card again. I stifled my guilt over repeatedly using Karen to gain information and followed him into cubicle land. We turned to the left at the end of a row of perfectly aligned workstations. He stopped by an oversized cubicle with a woman whose hair was threaded with silvery strands. She sat hunched forward, pecking at her keyboard.

"Irene." He placed his hand on her shoulder.

She jumped and spun her chair. "Oh, Mr. Jacobs. You scared me." Her deep brown eyes were wide either in shock from the unexpected interruption, or, I was beginning to think, in fear of Nathan Jacobs.

"This is Paige Turner, a friend of the Buzzys'. We're going to take a quick peek in
Gary
's office." Nathan put his hand on my shoulder and moved me foreword.

I resisted the urge to shrug it off and smiled at Irene. "Hi."

Irene peered at me over her reading glasses. Her eyes had grown tight and apprehensive. "I don't think I can let you do that, Mr. Jacobs. The police were here late yesterday, and they said
Gary
's office is off limits." She held her breath as if expecting Nathan to retaliate for her refusal.

He took his hand from my shoulder and ran it around the collar on his starched white shirt. "They were already here, huh? At his office? Do they think his death has something to do with work?"

She released her lower lip from a thorough chewing she'd engaged in during the awkward silence. "I'm not sure. They asked me quite a lengthy list of questions about
Gary
's normal schedule, and then they spent a long time in his office. When they came out, they had
Gary
's computer and warned me not to let anyone, no matter who they were, into the office. They even put that seal on the door."

Nathan's eyes flitted about as if he didn't know what to do. I didn't blame him. This was a surprise to me, too. I thought I was the first one on the scene. Maybe Mitch came up here right after I'd called him about
Gary
's car.

Wait, he took
Gary
's computer. It had to have something of import on it. Maybe he had a home computer that he synced with this one and it held the same info. I had to get through my questions with Nathan and get out of here before Mitch snatched that one, too.

I cleared my throat. Both pairs of wary eyes cut my way. "We wouldn't want to do anything to get you in trouble. We can skip seeing his office. Nice to meet you, Irene." I backed away, and when we were out of earshot, I faced Nathan. "I just remembered something I have to do, so can we get to my questions?"

Eyes still focused in the distance, he jerked his head toward the aisle before us. "Follow me."

We strolled past cubicle dwellers, their faces whipping our way as we passed. Were they interested in us, or was this the same look prisoners had when they peered out of their cell? If you forced me to sit in a windowless cubicle all day instead of spending time in a garden, I'd feel like I'd been jailed.

Back in the foyer, Nathan continued to finger his collar as if Irene's news had a severe impact on him. Maybe he had something to hide or more likely the police coming to the office made him fully embrace Gary's murder and realize that the killer could have been someone they both knew.

The elevator door opened revealing two women dressed in professional attire. One redhead, one brunette, both chatting and laughing like Lisa and I often did when no one was around. Nathan pounded into the car, and their gazes turned to him. As if he controlled a switch to silence them, they clammed up. The redhead scowled and took a step back. The brunette stuck her chin out as if daring him to say something. I offered a conciliatory smile and stepped into the elevator.

"Ladies," he said and punched the button. "How are you this morning?"

The redhead grunted, the brunette mumbled, "Fine," then looked at her feet.

Hmm, maybe Nathan wasn't well liked around here. Not surprising I suppose, as people often saw the accounting staff as the bad guys, controlling the purse strings of the company. Somehow, though, this felt a little more intense than that. I made a mental note of Nathan's ignorance of their behavior and rode in silence.

We got off on the fourth floor, and I could feel the women relax when we departed. Hmm. Was there really something to this? I followed Nathan past another land of cubicles to his corner office, boasting floor to ceiling windows overlooking green pastures and grazing cows. A mahogany desk with one of those costly ergonomic chairs looking like an alien creature filled the center of the room. Nathan mounted the chair like a king taking his throne. I settled into one of two plush armchairs, crossed my legs and laid my note pad on them so I could easily see the questions I'd filled the pages with last night.

I consulted my chicken scratches and tapped the first question with my pen. "First off, can you think of anyone who might want to kill
Gary
?"

Nathan shook his head in vehement swings. "No, of course not. I mean,
Gary
had his share of people who didn't particularly care for him, but no one who might want to kill him."

No one? Hmm, not what Mary Stills said. "How about Barney Rubble?"

Nathan's mouth dropped open the same way it had when Irene announced the police had cordoned off
Gary
's office. "How'd you hear about him?"

I ignored his question. "Do you think Barney Rubble was angry enough over losing his job to kill
Gary
?"

Nathan looked at the ceiling and seemed to give my question an honest evaluation. "Well, Rubble is the prime example of a disgruntled employee who might go postal. A loner, outcast, shunned by coworkers, thought his firing was undeserved. So, yeah, I guess he could have done it."

"Were there others like Barney?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure
Gary
terminated a lot of people who didn't wish him well, but I never heard of anyone reacting like this Rubble guy."

"What exactly did he do?"

"The usual swearing and shouting the day he was let go. Then he sent a nasty letter to most of the executive management team threatening to take the team out. Won't be the first guy to send something like this and won't be the last."

From the sound of things there had to be other potential suspects. "Any way I could get a list of terminated employees from you?"

He scoffed and flicked lint from his sleeve. "Not if I want to keep my job."

Mitch would have access to this information. I made a note to add this to my list of items I somehow had to eke out of the tightlipped lawman.

"You get one of the letters?"

"No." One word but the tone was unwavering. "And before you ask, I don't know who the others are so I can't help you."

"But you are part of the executive management team, right?"

"I am."

I checked off question number two and smiled at Nathan to clear out the unease speaking of Rubble seemed to hatch in him. "Karen told me you and
Gary
were friends. Did he have many friends at work?"

"We weren't what you'd call friends anymore."

"Right, Karen said you'd stopped coming around. Mind if I ask why?"

Seeming weary, Nathan wiped his hand over his face. "He got all religious on me. Stopped doing the things I like to do. He just plain wasn't any fun anymore."

"What kinds of things did you do together?"

Nathan picked up a bright blue stress ball and squeezed it with a meaty hand. "Look, are you almost finished? I have work to do, and I don't see how any of this is helping Karen."

I ignored him, scribbled a reminder to find out what activities the pair used to engage in and moved on to the next question. "Did
Gary
have other friends here?"

"Nah, he didn't want his worlds to collide. Kept work at work. Home at home. Only reason I was allowed at their house was because we went so far back."

"You said you both moved here about the same time. Was it for the same reason?"

He transferred the ball to his other hand. "I received a promotion.
Gary
was another story. He had a little trouble back in
Texas
. Not his fault though. A woman at the plant took a liking to him and had kind of a
Fatal Attraction
thing going on. They resolved it, but the bigwigs thought it'd be better for department morale if
Gary
took a position here. He had to take a step down for the first year, but then his boss quit and
Gary
was bumped back up."

Karen hadn't mentioned anything about trouble in
Texas
. Was she trying to hide something, or was she embarrassed
Gary
had a problem at work and had to relocate? Could this be the woman who was in the photo Karen so viciously chopped up?

No need to write this down. I'd be sure to ask her about it when I saw her. But it would help to have more details so when I did talk to her about it I was in the know. "Do you know the woman's name and what happened to her?"

Nathan gave up the squeezing and tossed the ball, following the movement with his eyes. "Let's see. Candy or Carol. Something like that. I never did know her last name. I moved to this plant and didn't hear another thing about her."

"Think she might have come here and done
Gary
in?"

"Nah, that was old news. Bet she didn't even know where to find him."

Though Nathan acted like this was no big deal, playing with a ball and all, I jotted down the name with a big question mark. "Do you know if anyone saw
Gary
yesterday morning?"

"Rumors are floating around that Irene talked to him, but I haven't heard anyone tell me they saw him."

Another lead. I would have to find a way to talk with Irene again. "Karen told me
Gary
left for work at 5:30. Do you know if Irene usually comes to work that early?"

"I have no idea what Irene's schedule is." His tone had returned to patronizing, and he was back to squishing the ball.

"Okay, so what time does the staff usually come in?"

"First shift at the plant starts at seven and some of the corporate staff start then, too. But it's a small percentage."

"How about you? What time do you come to work?"

His fingers worked faster. "I usually get here about eight."

"And yesterday? What time did you come in, and where were you until noonish?"

His eyebrows rose in twin arches reminding me of McDonalds, which seemed fitting, as he must eat a lot of food to keep a man of his size from being hungry. "Kind of impertinent, don't you think?" He set down the ball and shucked the arches in favor of a hard flat stare. "I didn't kill
Gary
, and I resent your implications."