He double-clicked the icon and it opened his word processor, then the file itself. It was a list of about a hundred names, their titles, and the locations where they lived. Beside the first seventy names was a date, all within the past year. Ron Eastland's name was seventy-first on the list and there was no date beside his name. Christopher studied the list for a moment. “That email you showed me back in the fall – this is the list?”
“Yes.”
He turned from the screen and looked at her. “What makes you think that?”
“Because everyone on this list is dead. Some died of heart attacks, like Ron, but some died in accidents.”
Christopher looked at the list. He didn't recognize any other names. “How do you know this?”
She shrugged. “I googled them. The list tells where they lived, so I googled their names and found them in their local papers. Some were just in the obituaries, but some made headlines when they crashed their cars. One guy fell off a ladder or something like that.”
“And all of these people worked for Morgan?”
“I'm not sure, but I know a couple of them did. I assume they all did.”
Christopher tried to process what he was hearing. “And one of Ron's friends got hold of this list, so he warned Ron that his name was on here.”
“Yes. That's exactly what happened. And that's why my Ronny was trying to escape the country.”
“But why? Why would a company kill its own workers?”
“I looked up the phrase dead peasants. Have you ever heard of it?”
Christopher shook his head. “No, I haven't.”
“Dead peasants' insurance is insurance that a company takes out on its employees. A lot of them do it these days. And when the worker dies, the company gets the benefit.” She raised her voice. “The company, not the family.”
“Did they have this insurance on Ron?”
“I don't know, but they must have. That must be why they killed him – to get his insurance claim.”
Christopher looked back at the list and then to Phyllis. “But Ron didn't tell you any of this was going on?”
“Not a word. But something sure scared him. I know that.”
“What about his friend – what was his name again?
“Travis Reed.”
“Who's he?
“He's the manager at the Morgan Warehouse. He's been there nearly as long as Ron was at the store.”
Christopher could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. This was all suddenly getting way too close. Travis Reed would have to be Rachel's new boss. For the first time, it began to sink in that Rachel might be in real danger. Christopher could feel warmth in his face. He wanted to jump up and run to his car and rush to grab Rachel and rescue her. But he took a deep breath and regained control of himself. He had to try to help Phyllis at this moment. “Do you think he would talk to you?”
“We were pretty close.” She nodded. “He and Ronny were good friends. I think he might.”
“But you haven't spoken to him since Ron died?”
She shook her head.
“Let’s call him.” Christopher glanced at his watch. “He should still be at work. Let's see if he will meet with you.” He studied her reaction. “I'll go too if you want me to.”
She took out a tissue and wiped her nose. “Okay.”
Christopher didn't know the number to the Morgan Warehouse. He had never called Rachel at work. He reached into his desk and took out a phone book, then looked up the number. He called the main number and asked for Rachel. He tried to act like everything was fine between them when she answered. “Hey Rachel, everything okay?”
“Yes, fine.”
“Good. I have a question about your new boss. Is he pretty easy to talk to?”
“Mr. Smith? Oh sure, he's real nice.”
“No, I'm asking about Travis Reed.”
“Mr. Reed quit right after I got here. He moved away.”
“Really.” Christopher looked at Phyllis. “Well, do you know where he went?”
“He told his secretary he was moving to Colorado.”
“Oh, okay.”
Her voice went higher. “What's this all about?”
“I have Phyllis Eastland here in my office. She was wanting to talk to Mr. Reed, that's all.”
“I see.”
Christopher didn't want to reveal to Phyllis that he and Rachel were separated, so he cut off the conversation. “Well, I need to go now. I'll talk to you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Love ya. Bye.” He disconnected the call and looked at Phyllis. “She said he quit and moved away. I guess we missed him.”
Phyllis nodded. She looked disappointed.
Christopher put his finger on his cheek. “What do you plan to do now?”
“I don't know. I don't know what to do.”
“Whatever you decide, I'll help you any way I can.”
She stood to leave. “Thanks for listening to me.”
“Do you want this thumb drive or do you want me to hang on to it?”
She started toward the door. “You keep it I guess.”
Christopher watched her walk out the door. He had to get Rachel away from that company. What could he do, call her and tell her that her company was killing its employees to collect their insurance money? She would never believe him. She would think he was just trying to get her to quit because he didn't like that tattoo.
He considered calling 911 and simply telling the operator that Morgan was murdering people. No, what if Phyllis was wrong about the whole thing? What if she was just being paranoid again? What if it was all a big misunderstanding? He sat and mulled his options. He had to talk to someone else.
What about Dillon, that security guard? He thought. He seemed sympathetic toward Phyllis at her house when the two of them were there after Ron's funeral. He thought maybe he would cruise down to Morgan Retail. Maybe he could find Dillon in the store. Maybe he would talk to him. He stood and pulled the thumb drive from his desktop and put it in his front pants pocket. He walked through the church, turning off lights and making sure the doors were locked. Then he got in his car and headed to Morgan.
At first he couldn't see Dillon in the store. The place was crowded with Friday afternoon shoppers, but Dillon didn't seem to be near the front where he thought he would be. Christopher walked past the check-out lanes. People were stocking up for the weekend. The sound of the beeps bounced around the cavernous room as checkers scanned and bagged cart after cart of merchandise.
Then he saw him standing near the magazines. He was watching people go through the books and magazines. Christopher walked up to him. “Dillon? Remember me?”
Dillon stared at him for a moment. “Yeah, I remember you. The preacher at the Eastland's.” He reached out his hand. “How's it going?”
Christopher shook his hand. “Well, it's going fine. I was hoping to talk to you.”
“Sure, what can I do for you?”
“Well, I'd prefer not to talk to you here.” He looked over his shoulder. “I was wondering if you would meet with me sometime, in private.” Christopher didn't like the look he was getting back from Dillon. “Maybe at my church.”
Dillon hesitated a moment. “Yeah, sure. I can do that.”
Christopher was already there waiting for Dillon when he arrived at the church the next day at noon. He let him in the front door, then locked it behind him. The two went into Christopher's office and sat across from each other at Christopher's desk. Christopher knew he was taking a chance speaking to him about this. He knew Dillon could be in on the murders. He did go get Ron at the airport. But Christopher heard him swear to Phyllis that he was innocent in his death. Christopher believed him. If he was lying about that, he was a gifted liar. He just didn't think so. He reasoned it was worth the chance to show him the file and get his reaction.
He put the thumb drive into the USB and opened the file. “Here, I want to show you something.” He pushed away
from the screen so Dillon could see it.
Dillon stood up to get a closer look. He studied the list for a moment. “What is this?”
“You've never seen this before?”
Dillon sat back down. “No. Never.”
“Phyllis Eastland brought this to me yesterday. She found it in Ron's sock drawer. She says this is the list that guy was referring to.”
Dillon nodded in understanding.
“Apparently, your company is murdering its people and cashing in on their life insurance.” Christopher stopped and studied Dillon's face to see if how he was reacting to his knowing this. “Do you think that's possible?”
Dillon nodded but didn't speak for a moment. “Yes, I do.” He turned and glanced behind him. “I know it's true. I know Morgan killed our night manager.” He paused a second. “I saw that with my own eyes.”
“You saw a murder?”
“No, but I saw someone push the man's burning truck over the side of a cliff.”
Christopher's eyes grew large. “Dillon, my wife works for your company. I need you to help me.”
“What would you have me do?”
Christopher put his elbow on his desk and cupped the side of his head with his hand. “I don't know. I don't even know where to start. But we can't let this company kill its people for money and just sit and do nothing about it.” He paused. “We have to stop them.”
Dillon sat for a moment. “Preacher, you have no idea what you're dealing with. This is a very large company. Very powerful. Two million workers. Scores of lawyers and hired hit men just waiting to take people out that get in the way.” He shook his head. “They would just as soon kill you as look at you.”
Christopher nodded. “I understand this isn't going to be easy, but I have an idea.”
Dillon leaned forward in his chair. “And what's that?”
“We take this list to the state attorney general's office. Someone there will talk to us. We'll explain what we know and leave it up to them.”
Dillon scratched his chin. “The first thing they are going to ask is where we got this.”
Christopher thought a moment. “That's right. We need to get Travis Reed to help us with this. He's the one who got hold of this file. He knows where it came from.”
Dillon stood to his feet. “Before you start calling around, sticking your nose into this, I suggest you get your wife to quit her job first.” He paused. “You just don't have any idea what kind of company you're dealing with. I saw it myself. They will kill your wife just to send you a message.”
Christopher could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The thought of getting her harmed terrified him. He felt small and alone. He felt powerless against such a Goliath of a company. He wanted to run and grab Rachel and tell her everything. He wanted to restrain her from ever going back to work there. He looked up at Dillon. “I need your help, that's all I know.”
“Let me think about this. I'll get back to you.” Dillon hesitated for a moment. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't. He nodded and shook Christopher's hand, then turned and left the room.
Chapter Eleven
Travis Reed packed the last of his belongings into the small trailer he had rented. It was late winter and he and his wife, Julia, had sold as much of their clothing, jewelry, decorations and furniture as they could in a garage sale. More like an estate sale. Everything had to go.
Travis was sixty-two years old. Not old enough to retire, so he had to simply quit. He was in pretty good shape for a man his age, and was known for walking around his neighborhood in the cool of the evening. His hair was salt and pepper, with a bald spot in the back. He enjoyed taking his Julia to social events and out to eat on the town. She was tall and slim with auburn hair and she looked great in the party dresses she wore to all the best social events. She had never had to work and kept herself occupied with community projects and volunteer work. She enjoyed going to parties, and she was excellent at planning and hosting them at their home. The more local politicians and community leaders present the better. She stood and talked to them well into the night. She made Travis look good and they both knew it.
It was going to be hard for him to leave this beautiful home, just as it was going to be hard to give up his friends and handsome salary, but he felt he had no choice once he found out the truth about Morgan Retail. Julia fought him at first, of course, but when he told her about the list of names and what happened to Ron, she begged him to quit the very next day. He waited nearly six more months, but each day was agony on both of them. He had a daughter in college and debts to pay and no choice but to keep working. Finally, he couldn't stand one more day of the Russian roulette and turned in his keys.
He sold his car, and he and Julia put their belongings up for grabs. They listed the house for sale and would have to keep making payments on it until they found a buyer, something they knew might take a while. He had money in the bank, but he had debts too, and it was going to be tight.
Julia came out of the house looking bedraggled, with her clothes dirty and a black smudge on her cheek. Travis chuckled when he saw her. He carefully wiped off the spot with a rag. She went back into the house, turned off the lights in the entryway, and put the keys in her purse.
Travis didn’t want anything further to do with Morgan Retail. He had decided to get far away as soon as possible. They had spent the past several days gathering what they were taking with them and stacking it in the trailer. He stood outside the home and breathed heavily, making a vapor cloud in the cold air. “Honey, I’m too tired to think about all the memories we’re leaving in this house.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Let’s see. Thirty years of marriage, two sons, lots of parties – this place has been good to us.”
He stood by his car door. “Are you ready?”
“Tired, but ready.” She climbed into the passenger side of the car.
He got in, started the car, carefully backed the trailer out of the driveway, and steered onto the street. “You know, it may a long time before we drive through this neighborhood again.”
“That's okay, I think I’m ready for a new chapter.”
Travis drove out onto the street and headed west.
Julia looked back over her shoulder for a moment, then turned and looked at the road ahead. She glanced at Travis. “Do you think Oscar will have a job for you?”
“I hope so.”
Travis and Julia had made friends with a business owner in Telluride. Oscar Morales owned a hardware store at the far end of town and Travis and Julia always took him and his wife, Sylvia, out to dinner when they were there on vacation during the summer or staying at the ski lodge in the spring. Travis was hoping his friend had a pencil or a broom for him to push. Just any work to do. He realized it was expensive to live in Telluride, but he didn’t know what else to do. If this didn’t work out, they planned to keep driving west and see what the horizon brought.
Travis hadn’t warned Oscar that he was coming. He feared he might tell him no if he called, but hoped he wouldn’t turn him away if he simply showed up on his doorstep. He planned to drive straight to the hardware store and ask for a job. He glanced over at Julia. “Oscar and Sylvia have grown children, right?”
“Yes, their oldest son is in real estate in Durango, and I think the other is still in college.”
“Yeah that’s right. So they should have a spare bedroom for us to stay in for a couple of days.”
Travis accelerated onto the interstate. “We’ve always flown to Colorado. I guess we haven’t been on a road trip like this since we were first married.”
“I’m not sure I like this,” she said. “We’re going so slow.”
“Well, I’m enjoying it. I haven't been on a road trip in a while.”
Travis’s sixty-third birthday came on their second day on the road. They woke up to a clear, early spring day in western Kansas. The sky was cloudless and the morning sun reflected off of the snow on the ground beside the highway. A
dirty pile of snow rose like a small mountain on one side of the parking lot. They had spent the night in a cheap and drafty motel in Lakin. Travis looked at his watch after he packed the car with their overnight bags.
“Happy birthday, Travis,” Julia said as she climbed into the car. Steam rose from her hair that was still damp from the shower. She opened a package of pastries she had purchased the night before and offered one to him.
“Thanks. Umm, this is good.”
Travis headed west on Highway 50. He calculated that they should arrive in Telluride by the next afternoon. He pushed the speed limit as much as the snowy roads and the trailer he was pulling allowed. He didn’t want to arrive after the hardware store closed. After several hours, the flat landscape of Eastern Colorado began to give way to the higher elevations of the Rocky Mountains.
“Oh, this is really pretty,” Julia said. “I think I'm liking this after all.”
That afternoon, the blue sky that had greeted them in Kansas changed to gray. Travis fidgeted with the heater to keep them warm. At a few seconds before three, he pulled over onto the shoulder at a roadside overlook and put the car in park. A sign in front of them announced that they were passing across the Continental Divide. The two sat there for a minute, enjoying the view. Snowcapped mountain scenery was visible from every window. A red tailed hawk drifted across the sky in front of them.
After a few minutes, he put the car back into gear, pulled back onto the highway and continued west, scratching behind his ear. They rode in silence for several miles. There were snow drifts on the fence line beside them, but so far, the road was mostly clear. Above them, the gray clouds grew darker as they traveled across the state.
“Turn on the radio,” she said. “Maybe we can find out what kind of weather we're heading into.”
He reached over and turned on the radio, then he pushed the scan button to find a station that sounded like it might be helpful. A snippet of a country song played followed by silence as the radio continued to search for a signal, then an easy listening crooner held a high note to end a ballad. Travis stopped the radio there. The sky was decidedly darker ahead of them. He hoped it wasn’t a snow storm he was seeing in the distance, but his heart knew it was.
The Dead Peasants File Page 8