“But—Ned, what about the dry cleaning?” Claire frowned.
Alec shrugged.
“Sell it on eBay, I guess.”
He kept his grip on her arm, and she had no choice but to follow, or… throw a fit.
She followed.
“I’m starving,” he said conversationally, as he led her toward the breakroom. “How about you?”
“Me too,” Claire said, as understanding dawned.
Alec fed the vending machines, and he and Claire selected bottles of Coke and their favorite snack foods. They carried them outside, and followed the path across the grass to an empty bench. She glanced discreetly at the people seated nearby, but he ignored them entirely.
“That’s weird about Allen,” he said, opening a package of M&M’s. Claire brushed her hair out of her eyes, and did the same.
“Do you have any idea what happened?” she asked.
“No idea,” Alec replied. He shrugged slightly, and paused to take a drink. “I get the idea he didn’t leave on the friendliest of terms.”
“No kidding,” Claire said, frowning slightly as she looked over her shoulder at the building. As she turned back, she glanced at those seated around them. Several were silent, and appeared to be listening in on their conversation. They didn’t look suspicious. They did, however, look curious.
Alec seemed to notice the same thing, since he made eye contact with the guy on the bench nearest them.
“You wouldn’t happen to know Allen Parker, would you?” Alec asked.
The guy carefully folded the empty chip bag he held, and stuffed it inside the soda bottle beside him.
“Yes… I did. Do you work here? I don’t remember seeing you around.”
“No, we don’t,” Alec said. He and Claire shared a slight smile, as if what the man said was humorous in some way.
“We’re here for the day,” she volunteered, and casually ate a few M&M’s.
“I planned to stop by and say hi, but I guess that’s not happening,” Alec added. “You say he did work here? When did he decide to leave? He was here just three weeks ago, I thought.”
“It was about three weeks ago that he left, I guess,” said the girl who was seated on their left. She looked to her companion, and he nodded. The rest watched, all other conversations abandoned, as they slowly consumed their own snacks.
“Right. Three weeks,” the guy said.
“Did he leave without giving notice?” Claire wondered. “The receptionist didn’t say much. She seemed irritated.”
“You think so?” Alec asked, his eyebrows knitting as he looked at Claire. “I got the impression she said all she could.”
“She probably did,” the first guy commented.
“He didn’t give any notice at all,” the girl added, glancing at her companion. Everyone waited for him to finish chewing.
“He wasn’t given much, either,” the guy added soberly, reaching for the water bottle on the bench beside him.
“Was he given any?” a third girl joined in, her words more statement, than query.
“Wait, was he laid-off?” Alec questioned, doing an admirable job of appearing surprised.
“What are you saying, they just kicked him out?” Claire asked, her eyebrows knitting.
“I don’t know whether or not any actual kicking took place,” the first guy said wryly. “But, yes.”
“I was in the hall,” added the girl next to him. “I walked by, and saw Allen sitting at his desk. I heard a sound and looked back, and security was walking him out.”
“But—he knew he was leaving beforehand… right?” Alec asked.
“He must have,” Claire said, looking to the rest for confirmation. “Doesn’t the lab have to give some kind of advance notice?”
“Allen wasn’t laid-off, he was terminated,” replied the first girl. She wadded up her wrappers and dropped them in the nearby trash receptacle.
“Terminated,” Alec said, as if struggling to grasp that. “Why? Did they at least give him a reason?”
“I have no idea,” said hall girl. “They just said get up, and that was it.”
“He knew then,” Claire stated. “Or did he argue?”
“Allen asked what this was about,” hall girl replied. “He didn’t act like he knew. He wanted to gather his things, but they wouldn’t let him. They didn’t give him a choice. They led him out.”
“No way,” Alec said. He looked as though it was hard to process that. So did Claire.
“This is crazy!” she exclaimed. “Are you serious? He couldn’t even get his stuff? They let him come back, right?”
“They wouldn’t,” Alec said. He appeared to be recovering from the shock. “They probably sent it to him, later.”
A guy across from them laughed shortly.
“That’s not what I heard.”
“What did you hear?” asked the girl on their left. Most of the others seemed to have some knowledge of what he was about to say, but she leaned forward, her forehead furrowing.
The guy shifted in his seat, and glanced at the building.
“They packed up all his things and got rid of them.”
“What do you mean?” frowned the girl.
“If they didn’t get it back to Allen, then what did they do with it?” Alec asked.
“They gave it away,” said the girl across from them.
“Can they do that?” Claire frowned. “I don’t care why they fired him, that’s got to be illegal!”
“Probably,” the guy answered. “His family thinks so. They threatened to sue, when they came to pick up his stuff, and were told it was dropped off at a donation place.”
“Sue, one of the clerical aids, did it,” the girl across from them said. “She was supposed to throw it out, but… she didn’t feel right about that. The stuff was worth quite a bit, I guess.”
“What stuff?” Claire asked, ordering her heart to beat at a normal rate of speed.
“All that eBay stuff,” said the guy across from them.
“I told him he shouldn’t be doing that here, even if it was during breaks and lunch,” the guy on the right said disapprovingly. He took careful aim, and tossed his empty soda can in the trash. “This is a lab, not a distribution center.”
“He had people picking up here?” Alec wondered, but the guy shook his head.
“No, he’d box things up, then send them with UPS when they came to the lab for pick up and delivery.”
“Wow,” said Claire, sharing a glance with Alec. “Is that why he was fired?”
“Maybe,” the guy shrugged.
“Who gave Sue the order to toss out his belongings?” Alec wondered.
“Jeff, his supervisor,” the guy replied.
“He’d have to be really angry to give that order,” Claire prompted.
“He was,” the guy assured her.
“Still is,” the girl beside him added, as they shared an apprehensive glance.
“He wasn’t fired for sending his own shipments with the lab’s,” Alec said, shaking his head a little as he considered that. “Unless he was charging those shipments to the lab’s account.”
“He wasn’t,” the first girl said with certainty. “He had his own account number and paid for it himself. I don’t think it had anything to do with that.”
“What was it, then?” Claire asked, glancing over her shoulder at the building. “In a group this small, someone must have heard something.”
“Maybe Allen’s supervisor expresses his anger silently,” Alec suggested, and several of the others chuckled at the thought.
“He expresses his anger loud and clear, but that doesn’t mean he goes into details,” the guy replied.
“He doesn’t, but if you ask me, he’s angrier now, than he was,” said the girl on the left, with a furtive glance toward the building.
“He seems stressed,” said the guy beside her. “Like over the top. Try telling him you’re here to see Allen, and you’ll see how loud and clear he can be.”
“We’ll take your word for it,” Alec replied. “Any idea what project Allen was working on when he was fired?”
“He was selecting candidates for a clinical trial,” said the girl on the left. “I don’t see how it could be related to him being fired.”
“I still think it was his side business,” declared the guy on the right. “I know Jeff complained about the mess and told him to get it cleaned up, more than once.”
“You said he spent his breaks, and lunch, selling and boxing up,” Claire said. “Are you certain he didn’t spend company time on it, too?”
“I have no idea,” the guy across from them answered. “I doubt any of us do. None of us worked directly with Allen.”
“Most of us are on different projects,” said the girl beside him.
“What happened to Allen after he left?” Alec wondered. “Have you heard from him since?”
The shaking heads indicated that no, none of them had.
“Do you have any idea how to find him? A phone number, anything?” Claire asked.
More head-shaking.
“You didn’t know him, outside of work?” Alec questioned.
“No,” said the guy on the left, shrugging a little as he glanced at his companions.
“We hang out at office parties and during breaks,” the girl on the right elaborated, waving her hand in a half-circle to include the rest of the group. “We’re work friends.”
“We pretty much have our own lives, outside of this,” the guy on the right agreed.
“What about his family?” Alec asked.
“That’s right, you said they’re threatening to sue,” Claire reminded them.
“For loss of property,” said the girl across from them. “Sue transferred the call to Jeff, Allen’s supervisor. Ex-supervisor. That’s all I know.”
Alec’s phone vibrated, and he glanced at the screen, then at Claire.
“I guess we’ll try a people search. Maybe that’ll turn up something.”
He must be out of questions. So was she.
“Maybe so,” she replied.
“Thanks for your help, anyway,” Alec said to the group, as they gathered their vending machine snacks, and stood. He glanced at his phone again. “It’s time for us to get back to work.”
“Thanks,” Claire said over her shoulder, as she followed Alec back toward the parking lot, and his truck.
“I had nothing else, and thought it wise to get out of there before they started asking us questions,” he explained, as they got in and buckled up.
“Good call. I didn’t have anything else, either. What do you suppose he did that got him fired? And tossed out without any warning?”
“Maybe they found out he was using the lab as a cover, to ship out whatever it is that the collectible killers are after,” he considered. He pulled out of the parking lot, and followed the road leading back to the city.
“We need to do research on the lab,” Claire concluded. “It makes absolutely no sense that he would lug in all those items he had listed on eBay, and store them there while he waited for them to sell.”
“If one of my guys did that, I’d tell him to cut it out,” Alec replied. “I’m not ruling out the possibility he got fired over it.”
“It makes no sense to leave those things there, unattended, either. The lab has janitorial staff. They must. Maybe nothing would disappear, but it might get broken. They wouldn’t appreciate having to clean with all that clutter around, either.”
“You said the dolls aren’t worth much, didn’t you?” Alec asked.
“Right… they’re not. They’re collectible, but too recent to be retired.”
“Then how much profit do you think he’d get, acquiring these from wherever he got them, then reselling?”
“Not enough to be worth it,” she replied, and Alec looked satisfied.
“Then we need to know what, exactly, they do at this lab. They do clinical trials, we know that, because of his job title and what we just heard. Do they also do the research that leads to the prosthetics, or pills, or vaccines, or whatever is tested?”
“Because, that had to be what he was shipping out,” Claire agreed.
“Even if it isn’t, a trial is done to test something experimental, not something already on the market. Imagine if months of research, maybe even years, was shipped off to a competing company under the guise of bobble-heads and Troll dolls.”
“I am! That part makes me want to laugh. But wow! That’s clever, in an illegal sort of way. Alec, I think we figured it out!”
He smiled back at her, and held up one hand to receive her high five, while holding firmly to the wheel with the other.
They reached the end of the road leading away from Variant Research Laboratories. Alec stopped at the sign, then turned, and they followed the road leading back to Ashland.
“So how do we prove it?” he wondered. “I can’t imagine being taken too seriously if we go to the police, or to this lab, and tell them what we think.”
“Then we research the lab more, and see if we can figure out what clinical trials they run.”
“And what they’re researching, because it could be the results of the research itself that’s involved. It might have nothing to do with a trial,” he pointed out. “We also need to research Allen Parker and see what we can find.”
“Then, we need to search the items in the two boxes again,” she added. “Maybe the second time around, we’ll find something.”
“He might’ve already shipped it out. We have to consider that possibility.”
“Yes, but that’s no fun, because it would mean we’re stuck without the information we need to completely wrap this up,” she frowned in annoyance.
“Okay,” he laughed a little. “We’ll assume there’s something, or somethings, in hiding in those boxes, and operate accordingly. And we’ll do some research.”
“Agreed,” she smiled.
They reached the city limits, and the sign welcoming them to Ashland. Claire looked around curiously as they drove through downtown. The shops weren’t cute like those in Juniper Creek, but there were more of them. Everything from clothing, to electronics, was represented there.
They reached the end of downtown. On one side of the street stretched a park. A group of young mothers sat at a picnic table, chatting as they watched their children at play on the equipment.
A man-made lake stretched from one end of the grassy expanse, to the other. There, ducks swam, and basked on the sunny banks. Two of the birds were followed by downy ducklings.
“I love the park,” she commented.
“It’s great. You’ll like Juniper Creek even better. Is there anything else for us to investigate while we’re here in town?” he wondered.
“Not that I can think of.”
“Then do you mind if I drop by my parents’ before we head back?”
“Your parents?” she asked in surprise.
“Mom texted, and asked if I’d take a look at her car, if we have time.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure. That’s fine,” she replied, then looked at him curiously. “What’s your mom like?”
“She’s great. I’m not going to say I think you’ll like her, because I know you will,” he said with confidence. He turned down a side street, into a residential area of the city. Tall, clapboard houses were spaced evenly in the center of the generous, grassy lots. Trees dotted the lawns, and many of the yards were made colorful by carefully tended flowerbeds.
“I can’t wait to meet her, then,” Claire said. “But that doesn’t tell me much. I like everyone.”
“Alright,” he laughed a little, as he glanced at her. “So you want details. Mom is nice. And, she’s a great cook.”
Claire waited for more. He seemed to be done.
“That’s it?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“Sure, I guess, as long as you can depend on her.”
“I can,” Alec replied. The look he gave her was sympathe
tic. “I wouldn’t say she was nice, if I couldn’t. I’d say she acts nice, not that she is.”
“Good point,” Claire acknowledged. “I can’t wait to meet her, then.”
“That’s fortunate… because here we are,” he said. The truck slowed, and he pulled into a circular driveway and came to a stop.
“Did you grow up here?” Claire wondered, as she got out of the truck, and looked up at the two-story house. The tan eaves, shutters, and creamy white porch, complemented the sage green exterior. A grapevine-wreath decorated the berry-red door, informing all who approached that they were welcome.
“I did,” he answered, as they followed the molded concrete steps to the porch.
“Does your mom know we’re coming?” she wondered, glancing at the large picture window beside the door.
The bolt turned.
“I’d say yes,” Alec smiled, as the door opened. “Hi, Mom.”
“How are you?” his mom answered, her smile lighting her blue eyes. She returned his hug, then gave Claire a curious look as she tucked a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. “You must be Claire.”
“I must be,” Claire said in surprise. “How did you know?”
“Alec’s told us all about you,” his mom smiled, welcoming them in.
“Oh, really?” Claire asked, even more surprised. She raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I don’t suppose jam figured heavily in that conversation, did it?”
“No!” Alec laughed, and his mom looked even more curious. “But maybe it should have. Mom, lock up the jam.”
His mom looked from one to the other a little uncertainly.
“I have my own, thanks,” Claire retorted with a tilt of her chin, as she clutched her purse tightly to her chest.
“Still?” Alec smiled, and Claire laughed too.
In spite of her obvious curiosity, rather than inquiring, his mom smiled, and motioned for them to follow.
“You’re just in time for lunch. Have you eaten?”
“No,” Alec replied. “I figured if I timed our visit just right…”
His mom laughed as they entered the sunny kitchen. A variety of sliced sandwiches, chips, and a large bowl of salad were arranged on the island.
“If I timed my text just right, you mean,” she corrected. “Looks like I did. Ladies and guests first. Grab a plate, Claire, and help yourself.”
Lochlan Museum: The Case of the Collectible Killer Page 22