“And yet, you’re still here,” he said matter-of-factly, as he continued to carefully study their surroundings. He pulled off to the side, and parked.
“Did you hear everything I said, or just that?” she glared a little.
“I’ll leave you to decide. Stay here,” he ordered, as he unlocked his door and unbuckled his seatbelt.
“No way,” she promptly replied, grabbing his arm. “You go, I go. Where are we going?”
“Crazy, unless you can keep quiet. Or maybe I should say, make all the noise you can. You probably respond best to reverse psychology.”
“Only trial and error will tell,” she retorted. “Choose very carefully.”
“No. I’m banking you know when to keep quiet,” he said, removing his keys from the ignition. “Tire tracks lead to that building. We can follow them easier on foot, and more quietly, assuming I’m right about you.”
Amber made a face, zipped her lips, and unbuckled her seatbelt. Erik hid his smile, switched off the dome light, and they opened their doors and stepped out into the snow.
Shutting their doors as quietly as possible, they met in front of the vehicle, and Erik led the way back to the road. He knelt and examined the tracks in the faint light of the moon. Satisfied with what he found, he stood, and motioned for Amber to come closer.
“I think you’re right,” he said quietly, excitement tinging his voice. “There are several sets of tracks leading in, and out. But look. Right there… and there… These tracks are narrower than the typical tire. What’s even more important, over here on the outgoing side of the road… only ordinary tracks.”
“Someone took the trailer in here, and left it,” Amber replied softly.
“A trailer. Maybe the trailer,” Erik nodded.
They followed alongside the tire tracks. Some led off to the left, and others to the right. The narrow tracks continued in the direction of the building, as did several others.
Erik’s and Amber’s steps crunched against the frozen snow, making stealth impossible in the otherwise silent world. Every few steps, Erik paused to listen. Reassured by the lack of sound, they continued.
Row after row of boxcars loomed, dark and foreboding, along several sets of train tracks. Erik gave them as wide a berth as he could, while still keeping the tire tracks in sight.
The harsh clang of metal against metal rang out, shattering the stillness. Amber flinched, and clutched Erik’s arm. He kept his eye on the boxcars, and put more distance between them.
There couldn’t be anyone there… not in this cold. It was impossible. Anyone crazy enough to come out here, would change their mind and find a warmer place to be, or else freeze. They’d be too cold to cause Erik and Amber any trouble, anyway. In spite of it…
Erik put his arm around Amber, and circled back toward his vehicle. She was shaking, either from fear, or the cold. Whichever it was, they were better off inside.
The shifting shadows and sudden flicker of light that shone through the open door of one of the cars, further convinced him.
The dark form that stepped out of the shadows, made him decide they should have never left the vehicle.
“No me digas que viniste solo,” Amber’s voice rang out with authority, much to Erik’s surprise. He couldn’t imagine what possessed her to act like she was expecting the guy, or why she’d disapprove of him coming alone.
“No estoy solo,” the man denied hesitantly. “¿Qué es lo que quieres?”
So the man wasn’t alone, after all. And, he wanted to know what they were doing there.
“Si usted es Antonio, usted sabría,” Amber replied firmly. “¿Quién eres tú?”
Erik didn’t know who Antonio was, any more than the other guy did. He didn’t know why she was pretending to look for him, either.
“Mi nombre es Eli,” the man replied. He glanced in Erik’s direction. “¿Por qué no habla?”
“El no sabe español,” she answered. Erik did know Spanish, but he didn’t correct her. “Dónde está Antonio? Tenemos trabajo para él y sus compañeros.”
Apparently, he and Amber had work for Antonio and his companions, and wondered where they were.
“No hay nadie aquí con ese nombre,” Eli said.
He didn’t know anyone by that name. Which was probably just as well. Erik wondered what Amber would do, if Eli did.
Amber gave a sigh of long-suffering, and turned to Erik.
“He’s not here, can you believe it? What do we do, now? Can you hook up the trailer yourself, if it’s still here?”
“I can hitch it without any problem, as long as it’s still loaded,” Erik played along. “If it isn’t… what about this guy? Maybe he’d be interested in a job.”
“¿Y tú, Eli? Podemos necesitar ayuda, y pagamos bien,” Amber proposed.
“¿Qué ayuda necesitas?” Eli wondered. He sounded hesitant.
“Make sure he knows what we’re looking for, otherwise he may think we’re asking him to do something illegal,” Erik said. Eli relaxed slightly, so Erik continued. “Tell him we’re looking for a trailer and twelve large, heavy boxes, that we think were delivered here by mistake. They have the words fragile, and Granite Solutions, printed on the sides.”
Erik was sure Eli understood, and so was Amber, but she translated anyway.
“¿Estas cajas son tuyas?” Eli asked. He wanted to make sure the boxes were really theirs.
“Sí, le pertenecen. Su nombre está en las cajas,” Amber replied, and she was right. Erik’s name was printed on the boxes. His last name, anyway.
“¿Puedes probar que el nombre es suyo?” Eli wondered.
“Sí,” Amber answered. She was right, again. Erik had identification.
Eli considered that. With a click, a brilliant beam of light erupted from the flashlight in his hand. The man kindly kept the light pointed at their feet, rather than shining it in their eyes.
“I believe he’d like to see your business card,” Amber said.
“They’re in the inside pocket of my coat,” Erik replied. He pulled off his glove and slowly retrieved one, and Eli leaned forward a little and gave it a good look. He turned toward the building, and motioned for them to follow.
“¿Cómo es que estas doce cajas pesadas llegaron aquí por error?” Eli asked.
Since the man was wondering how the boxes managed to get delivered there by mistake, chances were good, that’s where they were.
“Do we know why the boxes were taken here?” Amber asked. She wasn’t sure how she should answer Eli’s question.
“It was either by mistake, or they were stolen,” Erik answered.
Of course they were stolen, but he wasn’t going to come out and say it with certainty. If Eli knew the person who delivered, he might suddenly forget where the boxes were. Erik wanted them back.
Amber translated Erik’s answer, and Eli nodded.
As they neared the building, motion-sensing lights flooded the space surrounding it, blinding them momentarily. As Erik’s eyes adjusted, he recognized the emblem on the sleeve of Eli’s coat. And that had to be a radio antenna jutting from his pocket…
The radio squawked, and as Eli spoke into it quietly, Erik caught the name Davison Construction. He couldn’t make out what was said by the guy on the other end.
Up ahead, a door opened and light spilled out, silhouetting the man who stood there.
“It is much warmer inside,” Eli said.
“Good,” Erik replied.
Amber’s teeth would be sure to chatter if she spoke, so she didn’t.
Erik felt her shiver, and rubbed her arms briskly as he tightened his own around her.
“Just a few more steps,” he said encouragingly, as her shivering intensified. Was it all about the cold, or… maybe she needed reassurance. “How long have you been working for Allied Security, Eli?”
“It has been four years,” Eli replied, as they crunched through the snow, toward the open door.
“How do you like working for them?”
“I am satisfied.”
“That’s good to hear. I contracted with Allied just this morning, to supply security for one of our worksites,” Erik commented.
“Then you will know that your worksite is well protected,” Eli said with confidence.
“If I had it to do over, I’d make that call a lot sooner,” Erik admitted. “My brother and I own a contracting firm, and we’ve run into a lot of problems on this job.”
“And you suspect this is not accidental,” Eli surmised.
“I’m certain of it,” Erik replied.
A wall of warmth greeted them as they stepped inside the combination office, and break room. The other man, also in an Allied Security uniform, closed the door behind them.
“I am Eli, as you know. And this is my associate, Albert.”
“Hi, I’m Erik Davison,” he introduced himself, and shook hands with the guy, as Eli motioned toward the chairs that surrounded the breakroom table. Erik and Amber unzipped and removed their coats, to avoid heatstroke. The warmth was welcome, now, but if they remained bundled, that would soon change. “And this is my partner, Amber.”
She looked pleased.
“Mr. Davison is searching for a delivery made here by mistake,” Eli told Albert.
“We have reason to believe it was brought here yesterday afternoon, by trailer,” Erik said. “Twelve large boxes, heavy, with Granite Solutions printed on the sides. They contain countertops, custom-made for a project Davison Construction is completing. Does this sound familiar?”
“They could be in one of the warehouse units,” Amber suggested.
“Or, dumped somewhere,” Erik added. “It depends on who picked them up and brought them here, and why.”
“How could this be accidental?” Albert frowned.
“I’m willing to keep an open mind,” Erik replied. Both men considered that, and Albert shrugged a little.
“If that is what you wish, but I do not have such optimism. Never before have I known cargo to be brought in, except by train. These boxes are in bay seventeen.”
A thrill of excitement washed over Erik.
“That’s great. Were they unloaded, or are they still on the trailer?”
“We shall see,” Eli said. He rose from the table, and so did the rest.
“What can you tell us about the person who brought them here?” Amber wondered, as Erik helped her on with her coat.
“Only that someone did,” Albert replied.
“It wasn’t done on your shift,” Erik surmised.
“It wasn’t. But we did hear of it,” Eli said.
“And puzzled over it,” Albert added. He led the way through the door and back out into the cold, and they followed.
“Cargo is only brought in by train,” Amber considered. “Nothing else is stored?”
“Nothing is stored at all, for long,” Eli answered.
“It’s more of a way station, I take it,” Erik said. “Supplies and merchandise comes in, is unloaded, and then picked up.”
“That is correct,” Albert confirmed. “Except in this instance.”
He stopped in front of a rolling door. Its white paint, chipped and scarred, was emblazoned with the number seventeen in large black numerals. Albert used the key in his hand to unlock the door, then he and Eli rolled it open. In the lights that flooded the area surrounding the building, the trailer was revealed.
It was loaded with boxes, labeled Davison Construction.
Erik felt intense satisfaction as he examined them.
“This is it,” he said, sharing a glance of excitement with Amber. “This is it. It’s all here.”
Now, what to do with it?
“We need a place to store this,” Amber pointed out. “It’s not like we can haul it up the mountain, not while the blizzard’s going on. You don’t happen to have storage space reserved somewhere, do you?”
“No… we don’t,” Erik admitted, and Amber eyed the trailer and its cargo.
“We can’t leave it,” she said decisively. “We need to get it out of here, and stow it… and I know just the place. Let’s get this hooked up.”
Erik didn’t think twice about doing exactly that. Thirty minutes later, they were on their way out of the railyard, and headed back to the good side of town.
“Turn here,” Amber indicated, and Erik did. He also looked puzzled, as he followed the residential street.
“Where are we going, exactly?”
“To my grandparents’ place. Their RV is in the shop, and their garage is empty. They’re out of town. They won’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” Erik wondered. Amber held up her phone.
“I already asked. They’re fine with it. They also want to hear all about how we found your countertops, but we’ll put that off for another day.”
“It’s thanks to you, that we did,” Erik said with admiration. “I accepted they were gone for good. I was sure we’d have to wait for Granite Solutions to replace them. I never imagined finding them, and I still can hardly believe it, but—you did! Do you have any idea how much time, and trouble, you saved us? You’re brilliant, Amber. Absolutely brilliant.”
“Thanks for noticing,” she replied, managing to look slightly less pleased than she was.
“I mean it, Amber. You’re amazing,” was his verdict.
“Glad you decided to keep me around?” she smiled.
“You have to ask?” he replied, and the look he sent in her direction, made her laugh.
“That’s right, of course you are. You’re smart enough to know an asset when you have one,” she smiled.
“You better believe it,” he said with feeling.
“Turn here, this is the one,” she pointed. “The garage has a keypad. I’ll punch in the code, and be right back.”
The large door rolled open, and Erik backed the trailer inside and unhitched it.
“Is there anything to identify who it belongs to?” Amber wondered.
“Not that I can see,” Erik replied, as he studied it. “Mike, at Granite Solutions, said the license plate had the letters HUG. Either someone removed it, or he was talking about the truck’s plate.”
“Since we have to wait until tomorrow to look into the company that rents out the bay where your cabinets were left, then let’s go hunt for the truck.”
“What?” Erik asked, giving her a sharp look.
“It’s a dark Ford, two door, four-by-four. If we find one with HUG on the license plate, we’ll know we’ve got it.”
“Okay, first of all, where do you plan to start?” Erik asked. She was halfway to his SUV, so he flipped off the garage light, pressed the button to lower the door, and joined her.
“Well, where would you go, if you were this guy?”
“Maybe… home? I have no idea.”
“You’d make a terrible criminal,” she said flatly.
“I feel as though I’ve been insulted.”
“You’re so lucky I’m here. I can think of five… seven places he might be. Ten, for certain. We’ll start with those.”
“Okay…” he said slowly.
“Turn left at the end of this street, then go right,” Amber directed.
“What do you plan to do if we find this truck?” Erik wondered.
“It depends on if he’s in it, or not,” Amber replied.
“I’m starting to think I should take you home.”
“You can always try,” she said, with a shrug of her shoulder. “If you have time to waste. Otherwise, turn here.”
“Against my better judgment,” he said dryly.
The residential area was left behind, and they reached downtown. Shops lined both sides of the street. Most were closed, and their plate glass windows dimly lit. A coffee shop stood as a beacon of light amongst its darkened fellows, and further down, a restaurant was likewise well-lit and open for business. Erik noted that the shopping district was well developed, and neatly kept.
The next street was much the same. So was the one
after that. From there, each street dropped a notch or two in quality, sometimes several, as they moved further away from the main part of downtown.
“There,” Amber said, pointing abruptly.
A bright, neon sign above the door, touted the name Rudy’s. Several others, equally bright, filled the front window of the dingy place, advertising alcohol of various kinds.
“No,” Erik said firmly. “There is no way I’m taking you in there.”
“I didn’t say you were. It won’t kill you to drive through the parking lot, though.”
“Your dad might, if he knew anything about it,” he grimly replied.
“Dad’s sympathy would be all yours, if he did,” she retorted, and Erik bit back a laugh.
“You’re probably right,” he said. He hesitated, then turned into the parking lot. “Fine, we’ll drive through and check the license plates. But we’re not getting out.”
“I never said we would,” she replied.
To Erik’s relief, a dark Ford, two door, four-by-four with a license plate containing the letters HUG, was nowhere to be found.
“That’s too bad,” Amber said, as they pulled out of the parking lot, and onto the road. “I really didn’t expect it to be there, anyway. But we had to start somewhere.”
“Did we?” Erik retorted, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course,” she replied, her eyebrows knitting, as she studied him seriously. “You did say we were going to investigate, and find out who’s trying to sabotage your project, did you not?”
“Well… yes,” he reluctantly admitted.
“On to the next one, then,” she said, with a satisfied tilt of her chin.
“When I said it, I had no idea you’d interpret that as meaning bar-hopping, with an underage girl.”
“I’m not underage,” she scowled. “And I’m your partner.”
“You’re eighteen, not twenty-one. You’re also supposed to keep me out of trouble, not get me into it, if I remember correctly,” he pointed out.
“I’m glad to see you remember. Do just as I say, and I will.”
“Get me into trouble, I don’t doubt it,” he said wryly. She caught the teasing gleam in his eyes, and rolled hers. She also directed him to turn at the next street.
They traversed parking lot, after parking lot. As unfathomable as it once was, each establishment proved to be less savory than the one before.
Disengaged (Terms of Engagement Book 3) Page 15