Finely Ground

by Jennifer Templeman

  “You think Joe is the target?” Ellie asked.

  “I think if someone is going off of observation and interviews, the person who has the strongest connection to you is either your neighbor or the coffee guy. And of those two, the one you seem most connected to at the moment is the one whose name is on the cup you’re holding.”

  Phil quickly drained his cup and set it on the table. “I’m going to stretch my legs and take a slow stroll around the parking lot, looking for any flaws in his security-camera coverage.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Can’t say for sure, but if it was me, I might want to say thank you to the man who just gave up his office, despite being obviously busy, and then tell him a little of what we were just discussing.”

  Phil made his way through the shop to the door in near record time, leaving Ellie to wait for Joe, who was standing at the counter reviewing something on a clipboard. After he scribbled a signature, Ellie moved to his side.

  “Sorry to kick you out of your own office.”

  He waved off her apology. “I would have come out anyway because my monthly supply was delivered and I needed to be here to receive it.”

  As he mentioned what he’d been doing, Ellie saw that a semi was parked on the side of the shop, blocking most of the windows. A man was working to pull boxes from the back and stacking them on a dolly to bring them inside.

  She was surprised at how high the truck was from the ground and realized how difficult it would be to just open the back and remove cargo without a ramp or lift of some sort.

  “I know you love my coffee, but I’ve never had you completely ignore me just because the raw stock is in front of you,” Joe teased when she stood there mutely for a few moments.

  Shaking her head, she pointed at the truck. “I’ve been reviewing files related to theft from trucks like that,” she explained. “Can I take a look?”

  He motioned for her to follow him and led her behind the counter and through the stock room to the door on the side, which was propped open.

  “Ed,” Joe called out to the man still moving boxes on the back of the truck. When he came closer, Joe gestured to Ellie and introduced her. “This is Agent Michaels, and she would love a chance to look at your truck, if that’s okay.”

  Ed, who appeared to be twenty-five at the most, looked instantly nervous. “Was there a problem with the stock?”

  “No, she’s not interested in you, but she needs some information about cargo carriers like this one and wondered if it would be all right to talk to you and look around.”

  Ed’s relief was immediate as he motioned around. “Anything in particular you’d like to see?”

  “I’m most curious about the way you secure the load,” Ellie said, watching as Ed tossed another sack of beans marked “Dark Roast” onto an already large pile.

  Joe took the dolly and carted it inside, giving Ed a chance to pull the door on the back of the cargo hold shut. “Depending on what you’re hauling, some people just shut it like this.”

  The handle had a hook on the end that circled a metal rod embedded in the bottom of the rig. When he pushed the handle down, it prevented the door from moving and seemed locked in place.

  “But if you’ve got something of more value,” Ed continued, “you can lock it with something small like this.” He reached under the bumper of the truck and pulled out a long lock with a keyhole. “I own this one, but the company I work for has smaller ones they give us that would work too.”

  “Why don’t you use theirs?” Ellie wondered.

  “Theirs is smaller and would be easy for somebody to cut off with the right tool,” Ed informed her. “Plus, I like knowing this one is mine and nobody but me has the key.”

  His logic seemed sound, so Ellie didn’t see the point in pressing it further. “Do you only haul coffee?”

  “Nah,” he answered, picking up a clipboard that had been resting on the bumper. “I work for a restaurant distributor, so we haul all kinds of food and equipment.” As he spoke, he motioned at several orders on the manifest.

  “Is all of this on the truck right now?” she asked.

  “Most.” He looked around. “I’m only a third of the way through my route, so I haven’t dropped off the heavy stuff at the front yet.”

  “Do you ever do long hauls?”

  “I used to,” Ed told her. “But when my daughter was born, I got this gig so I could be home most every night. The money’s not as good, but the steady hours make up for that.”

  “When you did long hauls, did you ever use a Stop and Go?”

  “Oh yeah,” Ed quickly answered. “They’re open twenty-four/seven and cater to truckers, so their bathrooms have showers and their coffee is about as strong as you can get anywhere without it having an alcohol level attached to it.” He laughed at his joke. “Bit of a catch twenty-two though, those places,” he commented as he grew serious.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you have to be real careful if you go in for a shower or freshen up in the middle of the night, because lots of people wait in the parking lot for a trucker to take his required break, and then they have time while you’re distracted to clean out your truck.”

  “Did you ever lose a load?”

  “No, but I had a buddy who did,” Ed told her. “I usually parked as close to the building as I could and would stay in there if I could keep my eye on the back of my trailer. If I couldn’t see it, I couldn’t guarantee it was safe, so I wasn’t comfortable staying away too long.”

  “Did you ever hear of somebody only taking a few things but leaving most of the cargo intact?”

  “Not really.” Ed took his hat off and ran his fingers through his damp hair. “I guess it’d make sense if it was high-end stuff, like jewelry or something, but it wouldn’t make much sense for somebody to knock off ten pounds of coffee beans, so nothing like that’s ever happened to me.”

  He’d made the same point that Ellie had struggled with.

  “Is that what you’re investigating?”

  “Yes.” Ellie felt his forthrightness in answering all her questions deserved the same in return. “Somebody is stealing only part of a load while the driver is at a truck stop.”

  “You’re going to catch them, aren’t you?” Ed pushed.

  “I’m doing everything I can,” she promised.

  “Good.” Ed looked relieved. “When you lose part of a load, it hits the driver too, because they can get docked pay or cut routes or hours to make up for it.”

  Not that she needed it, but his words just reiterated the importance of finding the right link between the thefts in order to put an end to this.

  Joe came back with the dolly and turned it back over to Ed, who moved more boxes to fill it again.

  Ellie thanked him, and then she and Joe walked back inside.

  “Did you find out what you needed?” Joe asked.

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted, wishing she had a better handle on this case. As she looked across the shop, she saw Phil wandering around in the parking lot and remembered she had a different purpose for being there. “You’re careful, aren’t you?”

  “Careful, how?” Joe asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her intently.

  “The bigwigs at the office think Dr. Garrison is much more likely to target you than me,” she warned. “I know there’s coverage around, but we can’t keep twenty-four-hour surveillance going for an extended period of time without there being just cause. Garrison’s proven himself to be patient, and I’m worried that nothing will happen until there’s a weak spot in the coverage.”

  Joe reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind Ellie’s ear, letting his hand linger longer than necessary. “I’m always careful, aware of my surroundings. But knowing you’re worried about me is enough to keep me extra diligent.”

  Ellie smiled and felt her shoulders relax with relief. She took a few steps away to rejoin Phil at the car, pausing when Joe called out to her. />
  “Can you make the same promise?”

  Not entirely sure what he meant, she waited for him to explain.

  “Garrison has proven himself to be both patient and unpredictable. I highly doubt he will do the one thing everyone expects him to. Will you be just as cautious?”

  “Are you worried about me?” she teased, seeing the truth of his answer on his face.

  “More every day,” he assured her.

  It wasn’t possible to get the smile off her face, so she finally gave up and let it show as she met her boss at the car.

  “Didn’t think he’d let us have the office, did you?” Phil taunted when she was close enough to hear.

  “Nobody likes a know-it-all.”

  Chapter 12

  Ellie walked downstairs, holding her large cup of coffee from Mocha Joe’s and letting the heat from the beverage seep through to her hand. The familiarity and warmth of it were comforting. As soon as she opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, the feelings of comfort were gone. A light was on near the end of the hallway. Someone was in her office. Ellie made it a point to always arrive first. Never in all the years she’d worked here had a light been left on. She set her coffee down and pulled the gun from the holster at her side. Turning off the safety, she made her way down the hall, her fury slowly fading to that place of focus that had been drilled into her at the academy.

  Moving on the balls of her feet to keep from making any noise, she quickly glanced in each office on her way to the end of the hall. Seeing no one, she continued down. Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, she keep her breath even and measured. Just as her dad had taught her, controlling her breathing gave her a chance to control her adrenaline so that it didn’t take over. By the time she made it to her office, she was sure that no other office had been disturbed. Whoever was down here apparently only wanted access to her.

  Counting down in her head: three, two, one…she spun around the doorframe, aiming her Glock into the center of her office, perfectly at the chest of a man she’d never met but who looked vaguely familiar.

  “Good morning, Agent Michaels,” he spoke quickly, not seeming to be bothered by the gun between them. “My uncle said you were a morning bird and if I wanted to talk to you, coming down here before you got into your day was a good idea.” Then he picked up a cup from Dunkin’ Donuts and held it her direction. “I came in peace and brought coffee,” he added. “Uncle said that would help too.”

  “George, you nearly got yourself killed,” Ellie informed him, clicking the safety back on her gun and returning it to the holster hidden by her suit jacket.

  He seemed amused at her declaration of danger. “I knew you wouldn’t shoot me.”

  “That makes one of us,” Ellie mumbled, not entirely sure he was right.

  She hung up her jacket and sat down behind her desk, leaving her gun in its place instead of locking it away like she usually did upon arrival. He might not be a danger to her, but she didn’t see anything wrong with making a subtle point that she didn’t appreciate having her office invaded. “Was there something you needed?”

  George set the coffee down on her desk, reminding her that she’d left her own cup in the hallway when she first arrived. He then lifted a folder from his lap and set it on the desk between them. “You’re right about everything. Every connection you suggest pans out.”

  Flattery wasn’t supposed to matter in Ellie’s world, but it was nice to hear someone appreciate what she had to offer. Not all the work done at the Bureau was flashing badges and pointing weapons, but that was all that seemed to be highlighted when people thought of investigations.

  Ellie pulled the folder closer to see what he’d thought was so important that he’d risk his life early in the morning.

  “I got the certificates of insurance you suggested from each of the carriers that have been hit.”

  Turning through each page, Ellie noticed the details of coverage from each carrier that had suffered a loss. At the bottom, George had written in an estimation of the losses the company had suffered that year and the loss from the most recent theft that had involved the FBI.

  “What’s the net annual loss?” Ellie asked.

  “They said it was how much the company had claimed against their policy to date. Usually it was from damages to the load. One of the losses was because of a problem with the seal around the door and the back half of the load was ruined from water damage.”

  Ellie looked at the numbers on each page and realized the most recent theft represented a minor amount compared to the total net losses, but she figured it had to be important. “So, these thefts…” Thinking out loud sometimes helped.

  “The most recent thefts were just enough to put them over their maximum out of pocket for the year. By doing that, it put the carriers into a higher classification of losses, which almost guarantees an increase in their premiums next year.”

  “That’s great information,” Ellie praised his work, surprised to see him practically beaming in response to her words.

  “I just took everything you suggested and then did it. Then the last insurance carrier volunteered the information about the premium increase when I told him why I wanted the summary of coverage,” George admitted, as though he were confessing not having done anything important at all.

  “You were the one talking to him, which made him comfortable enough to volunteer the information, so it was your skills that got the information to make the connection.” Ellie didn’t know why she was suddenly taking interest in the young man in front of her. He had an uncle in the Bureau with enough clout to ensure him a successful career.

  “When I shared this with my uncle, he suggested I come talk to you. You’re the only reason we’ve gotten this far in the investigation, and he said I could learn a few things from talking to you and getting your help.”

  Ellie looked through the papers assembled in the folder. George had printed out all of her e-mails where she’d made suggestions or tied previous pieces of information together. He hadn’t tried to take credit for any part of the investigation. He looked a lot like his uncle, even down to the highly polished shoes he was wearing. Their hair was the same style, their watches looked identical, yet in George, Ellie saw someone who only wanted to solve the mystery. The same level of initiative and command the uncle had didn’t seem to be present in his nephew. Ellie found that she wanted to help him.

  The last page in the case file was the information on Risk Management Associates—RMA—that each of the companies had gone to for help after their losses. Ellie read to the bottom of the page and realized the corporate headquarters for RMA was in downtown Richmond. “You should go interview the risk-mitigation company and see what you can find out.”

  “I thought of that too, which is why I’m here,” George admitted.

  “I don’t understand…” Ellie was confused. “Do you need help with questions to lead the conversation?”

  Whatever confidence George might have begun their conversation with had vanished, and he looked down at the top of her desk instead of looking her in the eye. “I was sort of hoping you’d come with me.”

  “I don’t work in the field,” Ellie responded with her go-to excuse.

  “My uncle said that was by your choice.” George seemed to grow a little bolder. “He said I could probably learn a lot from your approach because it would be different from his and I hadn’t done a good job of emulating him so far.”

  It was as if someone had coached George in saying the exact things it would take to hook Ellie’s guilt to work with him. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, my uncle would walk in, flash his badge, and start asking questions, demanding to be given access to information.”

  “What kind of information do you want access to?” Ellie prompted, hoping he’d realize that approach wasn’t going to work if he intended to take her.

  “That’s where I thought you’d come in.” George grinned and looked very muc
h the part of a young kid trying to win the approval of his teacher.

  “Why don’t we just go in and try to find out who the companies worked with after the thefts occurred? Then we can get some information on the specific services they provided and how that might impact a carrier’s coverage rate,” Ellie suggested.

  “No badge flashing and loud demands?” George questioned.

  “You can show your badge, but you shouldn’t make demands unless you have a plan to get what you’re after,” she advised.

  “That’s okay.” He seemed relieved. “After I introduce myself, I’m usually at a loss about what to do next anyway.”

  ****

  The outside of RMA was unimpressive. The two-story brick building had a paved parking lot, with a dozen cars parked in front. There were security cameras at each of the corners of the building and lights mounted on poles to keep the full parking lot illuminated at night. The front door required them to press a buzzer to be granted admittance. It appeared to be designed for security, which only underscored the purpose of the organization.

  Once they were inside, they approached a sliding-glass window with a receptionist smiling as a greeting. “Welcome to Risk Management Associates.” Pointing to a clipboard, she continued, “If you’d sign in, I’ll buzz Mr. Pemberton to meet you.”

  George leaned over and softly asked, “Is this where I show the badge?”

  “No.” Ellie struggled not to laugh. “This is where you write your name and try to play it cool.”

  “I can do that,” he promised, buttoning up his suit coat as though attempting to hide his credentials.

  After checking in, they took a seat next to an assortment of out-of-date magazines and only had to wait a few minutes before the side door opened and a man in his mid-fifties and below average height appeared in pleated khakis and a white polo shirt with the RMA logo embroidered on it. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, folks,” he began, extending his hand to George first. “I’m John Pemberton, CEO at RMA.”