Hot Storage

by Mary Mead

  In his absence, right under my nose, the drugs had been removed.

  The fifth of the month Detective John Kincaid wandered into the office again. I spotted the wide shoulders and sun touched hair coming across the parking lot.

  He waited politely while I finished up with a customer.

  “Miss Montoya,” he said, when the customer left. “How are things going here?”

  “Same old thing, different day, Detective. What can I do for you?”

  “John, remember?”

  “John,” I said. “What can I do for you today?”

  Kincaid did a slow look around the office, settling on the camera screens behind me.

  “I hear we lost the drugs.”

  “Yes, sir. John.”

  “Relax, ma’am,” he grinned. “I’m only following up. Trying to stay in the loop. I gather you didn’t see anything?”

  “No, sorry. I’ve reviewed all the tapes, all the hard copies. Nada.”

  “The undercover didn’t see anything either?”

  “Nope. Burke wasn’t on site. His schedule is random and he was called away for a few days.”

  Kincaid looked up at me. “Burke?”

  “The California CID guy. His name is Burke.”

  “Haven’t met him,” the detective admitted. “Maybe I better introduce myself.”

  I glanced over at the monitor. “He’s not back there right now. I can ask him to call you.”

  “No need. I’ll catch up with him. Couple of questions?”

  “Shoot,” I said.

  “Is anyone on duty during the night? Someone on the lot?”

  “No, sir. The security cameras run twenty-four seven. They have infrared filters for evening hours. I have the same software on my computer upstairs, so I can check randomly. Any camera. Not a regular schedule, although always before I go to bed. Any movement at all I would notice.”

  He nodded. “This Burke is only here during the day?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “John.”

  “John,” I corrected. “There are times he’s here after hours, just not out in the lot.”

  Kincaid’s eyebrow rose. “He’s here? In the office? Does he watch the cameras?”

  Oh, boy. “No. He has dinner here once in a while.”

  “Oh, I see. He brings his dinner and watches the camera’s while he eats. Good idea. Fresh eyes, different perspective.”

  I thought about it for a second. “He often has dinner with me. Upstairs.”

  The eyebrow rose again. “Personal?”

  “Not the way you obviously think. No. We work together quite a bit. We’re friends. We split a pizza, watch a movie, sometimes a couple of beers.”

  “Also understandable. I wasn’t trying to pry.” He smiled at me.

  “Nothing to hide,” I said, returning his smile. “We work together. Have a lot of things in common. That’s it.”

  He straightened up and double patted the counter with his hands.

  “Okay, then. Just checking in with you. If you think of anything, or see anything, give me a call. I assume you know not to approach anyone. I’m only a few minutes away.”

  “I have enough sense not to confront suspected drug dealers,” I smiled.

  “Good to know,” he smiled back. “You have my card.”

  “Yes, I do. Right here in the drawer.”

  “Okay then. I’ll check back.”

  “Anytime,” I said.

  He tossed me a little salute and left. I watched him climb in his truck and drive away, feeling somehow I had let him down.

  Determined to come up with something, I burned DVD’s of those trucks and vans I had marked and took them upstairs with me when the office closed.

  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.