“What?”
“I don’t think I’m ever gonna see that stuff?”
Reed leaned forward. “Are you saying you don’t think he’s going to bring it back?”
Lydia nodded. “I think that’s exactly what I’m saying. Because all of a sudden I’m getting this horrible feeling…”
“Lydia, I doubt he’ll come back empty-handed. It sounds like you really put him on the line.”
“Yeah…I know. And I’m thinking now that maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Because like I was about to tell you, all of a sudden I’m getting this really horrible feeling that he’s not coming back at all. And you know what else…I don’t think he ever intended to.”
Chapter Six
Lydia wasted no time going back to accounting and with the help of the two clerks, searched the room from top to bottom, ransacked her father’s office, then the other two offices on the floor, and finally, Reed’s.
“Mind?” she asked, pointing to the file cabinet behind his desk.
He shook his head no, not about to object, and watched as she rummaged through the drawers, slamming each one shut before going on to the next, and didn’t voice his disapproval until she finally plopped herself down in a chair. “You really didn’t think they’d be in here, did you?”
She looked at him. “I’ve checked everywhere else, Reed. I’d check my own goddamned files right now if I had some.”
“But don’t you think you’re over…”
Lydia held her hand up. She didn’t want to hear it.
“I just think…”
“Please!” she insisted. When Reed sat back, silenced, she grabbed the phone and paged Bill, then phoned her father. “What do you mean you don’t know anything about them?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, dear, but I don’t. Why, is there a problem?”
Lydia drew a breath and sighed. “There may be, but don’t worry about it for now. I’ll get back with you.”
The intercom buzzed as she hung up, and after talking to Bill, she grabbed her cigarettes and headed for the door in a fury, bringing Reed to his feet.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Dan Morris. Where else?”
“What?”
Lydia stopped at the door. “Haven’t you been listening to me? We don’t have any accounting records. None! Not a stinking one! No suppliers invoices. No customer invoices! Nothing! Dan Morris has them all!”
“Did you try…?”
“What? Calling him?” She tapped her head. “Oh gee, why didn’t I think of that? How silly of me.” She glared. “Of course I tried calling him! In fact, believe it or not, that was the first thing I thought of.”
Reed walked toward her, looking sheepish. “I take it he wasn’t home?”
“Who knows? It’s not a working number.”
Reed hesitated. “Still, maybe he just needs a little time. After all, he hasn’t been gone that long.”
Lydia glanced away, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter, a minute, an hour, a day. And, while I don’t want to get into this right now, let me just tell you, Dan Morris is history. He’s not coming back. I’m sure of it. And when I’m sure, I’m sure. Now, do you want to go with me? Otherwise…”
One look at her trembling hands had Reed nodding. “I’ll drive.”
* * *
It didn’t surprise Lydia to see that Reed drove a Corvette, or even that it was blue, and had she not been so preoccupied, she might have commented on it. As it was, she only said, “Mind if I smoke?”
Reed shook his head, smiling, and when she smiled back at her, he felt so close to her. She was so beautiful and so close. Then she turned to look out her window and suddenly she was miles away.
They had to stop twice for directions before finally finding the street. After pulling to a stop in front of the building, Reed looked around. “Not exactly the pleasant side of town, is it?”
Lydia glanced at him in obvious agreement.
“Why don’t you stay here,” he said.
Lydia shook her head and opened the door, not about to admit to being the slightest bit intimidated by the neighborhood, let alone an old building. That’s all it was, an old building with crumbling masonry and broken steps. Walking up those steps, one wouldn’t think she noticed the smell of urine and rot reeking from the window wells either.
Reed glanced back at his car from the door, hoping it would still be there with they came out, and Lydia looked down the street. There wasn’t a soul in sight, yet she could envision runny-nosed children running about with barking dogs at the heels. Skinny dogs with long tails and torn ears, one with a limp. Then a gang fight, with shouts and screams, and blood. Reed touched her arm, bringing her back to the present, and she followed him into an entry that was dark and narrow with only a single bulb in a rusty fixture hanging from the ceiling.
She looked around at the filth while Reed checked out the mailboxes, then walked over and knocked on one of the doors. After a moment, an old man opened it and peeked out, eyeing both of them. “You cops?”
Reed shook his head. “No, but we are looking for someone.”
“No one here.”
Lydia edged closer. “His name is Dan Morris. He’s supposed to live here.”
“Never heard of him.”
Lydia thought fast. “I’ll pay you.” After all, it worked in the movies, and sure enough, the old man looked receptive. She tapped Reed on the arm, motioning for some money.
Reed frowned, but took out his wallet and handed the man twenty dollars.
“Still ain’t nobody here. I’s the only one.”
“For how long?” Lydia asked.
“Nigh on ten year,” he said, shutting the door and bolting it. “Now go ‘way!”
“I meant how long have you been living here alone?” Lydia shouted, pounding on the door.
“Go ‘way!” the old man yelled, pounding just as hard. “I tole you ain’t nobody here!”
Lydia turned, searching Reed’s eyes frantically, then started pounding again. “Open up, goddamn it! He has to live here! This is his address!”
Silence…
Reed took hold of her arm gently. “Lydia, let’s go.”
She pulled free. “No! Don’t you understand? I have to have those records! We have to find them! Here…you knock on all the doors down here, and I’ll try upstairs.”
Reed stopped her. “There’s no one up there, Lydia. Look.” He motioned to the steps. They were covered with at least an inch of dust. “Come on…let’s go.”
Lydia hesitated, staring up at him, then with a sigh, turned and walked to the door. “Do you think he ever lived here?”
Reed shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine any one living here.”
Lydia glanced back over her shoulder. “I can,” she said sadly. “I need only to close my eyes.”
Reed looked at her, thinking, what an odd thing to say. Not to mention the faraway expression on her face when she said it. He asked her about it in the car. “What did you mean by that, ‘I need only to close my eyes’?”
Lydia made light of it. “Oh…it’s just my imagination. It’s a vivid one.”
On the way back, they hashed over how they might track Dan Morris down. Reed was a believer now, though he still wondered how she knew and what made her so sure. She told him it was just a lucky guess. “Or an unlucky one, depending on how you look at it. Let’s get something to eat.”
She said she had a taste for a burger and fries, so fast food it was, and they took it with them to eat on the picnic table by the shop entrance, also her suggestion.
“You know,” she said with a mouthful of fries. “Every time I go by those picketers I get a strange feeling.”
Reed smiled. It didn’t surprise him. Once they’d noticed she was in the car, they were falling out of their chairs and making asses of themselves to get her attention.
“Union business doesn’t make much sense to me.”
Reed smiled again
. Picnicking out behind the shop in the heat of the day didn’t make much sense either. Not to him at least. “Pantamanian was union.”
Lydia looked at him curiously and then with a shrug, went back to what they were discussing in the car. “I sure hope Bill’s able to find something.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
Lydia smiled faintly. “Then we’ll panic. Meanwhile…” She motioned over his shoulder. “I think I’ll rattle some more cages.”
Tony had just pulled in and parked. When Reed saw who she was referring to, he almost choked trying to swallow. “Please! Leave him be! The shop runs fine!”
Tony obviously didn’t know they were there and turned to the woman with him. She was practically in his lap, and as he put his arm around her, kissing her, one of his hands slid down and out of sight.
“So that’s what keeps him going two shifts,” Lydia said, chuckling. “Christ, Reed! We owe her! We ought to put her on the payroll.”
Reed laughed, which got Tony’s attention, and getting out, he watched the woman drive away and walked over.
“Afternoon,” Reed said. “Nice day.”
Lydia made a face to dramatize the absurdity of that greeting. “Nice day? Since when?”
Reed laughed. “That’s not what I meant.”
Tony shifted his weight, glancing down the street as his shiny Monte Carlo made the turn. When he looked back, Lydia was staring at him.
“So,” she said, finishing her burger. “Got any idea why this company isn’t making any money?”
Tony stared back. She had to be putting him on. He had a dozen of them. “I have a few.”
“Good,” she said. “Why don’t you write them down so we can go over them?”
Tony looked as if he was going to say something, but just shifted his weight instead.
Lydia got up from the picnic table, slurping the rest of her Coke as she gathered her garbage. “Oh, and while you’re at it,” she said. “Write down your past employment history for me.” With that and not even a glance back, she lit a cigarette and went inside.
Jan greeted her coming down the hall. “Oh, Miss Merchant! I’m so glad you’re back! Is Mr. Reed with you?”
“He should be right behind me. Why?”
“There’s been an accident.”
Lydia’s blood drained from her face. “Dan Morris?”
“No, Bill Shoop.”
Reed walked up as she asked, “What happened?”
“I’m not sure,” Jan said, darting her eyes from one to the other. “But he hurt his hand somehow.”
“Is he all right?” Reed asked.
“I think so. He wouldn’t go to the hospital.”
“I’ll go see how he is,” Lydia said.
“But he’s not here,” Jan said, stopping her in a high voice. “He went home. He had me call his wife. He’s gone.”
Lydia looked at Reed. “Do you think we should call him?”
He nodded. “I’ll do it and let you know.”
Lydia watched him walk away, thinking about her phone conversation with Bill before they left to go find Dan Morris. He was going to keep looking for the accounting data. “Jan, did Bill fill out an accident report?”
“No, he didn’t, Miss Merchant. He insisted he was fine. I couldn’t force him to.”
“You could have, and you should have,” Lydia said, recalling how emphatic her father had been about that type of thing. What a stickler he was.
“I’m sorry, Miss Merchant.”
Lydia waved it off. “Yeah, me too. Just get him to fill one out tomorrow.” She was already thinking of something else. She pointed to her office. “Get me the accountant on the phone. I’ll be in there.”
“Yes, Miss Merchant.”
“And please, you’ve got to stop that! It’s driving me crazy!”
Jan’s chin started to tremble. “What?”
“That Miss Merchant shit! Call me Lydia, for Christ sake.”
Jan looked away, tears filling her eyes. “I’ll get the accountant on the phone.”
Lydia stared at her helplessly, realizing she was only making her more uncomfortable now, and went into her office. Jan buzzed her about a minute later.
“The accountant is on line two.”
She was obviously still upset, so Lydia tried making amends. “Jan, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Call me anything you like. Though honestly, I do prefer just Lydia.”
“I’ll try.” Sniff. “Line two.”
Lydia rolled her eyes and switched over. “We have a major problem on our hands,” she said. “And I want you to tell me everything’s going to be okay.”
“I will if I can,” was the cheerful, yet puzzled-sounding response. “What seems to be the problem?”
Wait a minute, Lydia thought, this isn’t George Turner. That wasn’t his voice. What the hell? “Would you excuse me for a minute please?” she said. “I have another call.” She pushed down the hold button and jumped up and ran to the door. “Jan, who did you call?”
“The accountant,” Jan said, looking defensive.
“That isn’t George Turner! I know his voice.”
“But George Turner isn’t our accountant.”
“Since when?”
Jan started toward her with her hands clutched to her chest. “Since he died, I guess.”
Lydia’s eyes widened, not that she knew him all that well. “What did he die from?”
“I…uh…don’t know.”
Lydia let her shoulders slump and mouth drop, as if to say, “What good are you then?” It was a response that would have had Sharon laughing. But Jan only wanted to cry again.
Lydia gave up. “All right. So who’s our accountant now?”
“Most often it’s a Mr. Jordan, though at times a Mr. Martin takes the calls.”
“Which one am I talking to now?” Lydia asked, gesturing for a quick answer.
“Oh my!” This brought Jan closer to tears. She’d forgotten. “I don’t know. I knew a minute ago. I did.”
Lydia sighed dramatically and went back to the phone. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I think I’m going through the day here half-dressed.”
There was a chuckle on the other end. “How can I help you? What’s the problem?”
“Well, for one,” Lydia said, “there’s this big dark cloud that keeps following me wherever I go.”
The man laughed. “I know the feeling.”
Lydia lit a cigarette. “I apologize. See, I thought I was having George Turner phoned and got you instead. Are you the one who normally handles our account?”
“Yes, the last couple of times at least.”
Lydia took a long drag, assuming this was Jordan then, and couldn’t help feeling as if she was in a world of strangers. She didn’t know what to say. “I seem to be missing a lot of…uh…daily data and was wondering how much of a file you have on us.”
“Not much. I had it pulled while I was on hold.”
Lydia leaned back in her chair.
“I have copies of tax returns and past financials. That’s about it.”
“Well then,” Lydia said. “I guess I’ll have to get back with you after I see what I can do here.”
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“Yeah, me too. Thank you.” She hung up and went out to see Jan. “When’s payday?” she asked.
“Friday.”
“Friday, hmph. How are you coming with the who’s who?”
“Pardon me?”
“The organizational chart. You know, the one Reed…”
“I’m almost done with it,” Jan interrupted nervously.
Lydia drew a deep breath. She was getting tired of being cut off. “Well, when you get it done…”
“But Mr. Reed was the one who requested it.”
Another deep breath. “Fine, Jan. I’ll tell you what. You give it to him and then he can give it to me. Meanwhile, I’ll just sit around and wait. How’s that?”
Jan stared up a
t her.
“I’ll be down in the conference room.”
Lydia was never good at waiting though, and ended up roaming the shop instead. As she walked up and down the aisles, if someone nodded, she nodded back. If someone offered a greeting, she returned it. But if asked, she probably couldn’t recall one thing she saw or distinguish one face, until she came upon Tony.
He was bent over a machine, dismantling it, having been at it for at least an hour, and had sweat running down his neck. She stopped, looking over his shoulder, and when he glanced up, asked him, “What are you doing?”
He had to wait for her to move before he could straighten up. “Trying to get this back on line.”
She leaned down again to see what he’d been working on. “Is this what you do best?”
Tony glanced away, shaking his head, and was about to come back with a quick answer when she pointed to three men across the way. “What are they doing?”
Tony just looked at them for a moment, as if he had to think about. “They’re doing their job,” he said, then motioned to the machine he’d been dismantling. “And no, this is not what I do best. It’s just one of the things I do well.”
Lydia nodded slightly, too preoccupied with her own thoughts to notice his tone and implication, and walked on. Tony backed up, crossing his arms, and watched her walk all the way down to the end of the aisle, oblivious to the men, who were now watching him.
“Like a piece of that, Tony?” one of the asked.
Tony shook his head and laughed. “Nah! I’d be too tough for her liking. She’d chew on me and spit me out.”
It was hard telling who got the biggest kick out of that, as all of them laughed heartily. But as Tony glanced back down the aisle, he had a distant smile on his face.
When Lydia finally got to the conference room, she was pleasantly surprised to find the personnel and organizational chart waiting for her there, and sat down with a cigarette to start through it.
Aside from her, the office had thirteen employees: two clerks in personnel, a switchboard operator, two accounting clerks, Jan, Reed, a receptionist, and a part-time clerk on first, two switchboard operators for the other two shifts, a receptionist from five to twelve, and one from twelve to seven.
Call Me Lydia Page 8