His mom walked over, placed a kiss on Colleen’s head, then wrapped her arm around Kyle. “I told Hannah we’d give them about ten minutes and then we’d head over.” She turned and looked at the others and said, “Why don’t we go a few at a time? We don’t want to overwhelm them too much.”
Just then, Chauncey waved toward their house, and Kyle’s parents walked through the yard first. Sean and Harper, Carter and Tara with Colleen in tow, walked over next. Kyle watched carefully, glad when Gage smiled at Colleen. Heading over, he watched as Brody offered a chin lift as he approached.
“Amber, it’s good to see you,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek. Clapping Brody on the back, he smiled as Gage was called over.
Brody placed his hand on his son’s shoulder and said, “I’d like you to meet my best friend. This is Kyle. And this is my son, Gage.”
Kyle greeted him warmly, but the shock surprised him. Looking at Gage was exactly like looking at a ten-year-old Brody. Smiling, he shook his head slightly. “Gage, it’s great to meet you. You look just like your dad did when he was your age.”
He stepped to the side and allowed Rory, Erin, and Caitlyn to be introduced also. Gage’s eyes were wide, and Kyle had no doubt it was a lot to take in. For the next hour, a table full of food was brought over and everyone ate their fill. Amber’s expression was wary, but Gage appeared to be completely at ease.
It did not take long for a football game to start in the backyard, and it felt like old times. Brody was keeping one eye on Gage while watching Amber sit with his mom. Kyle hoped that conversation was going well but, since no fireworks had gone off, he assumed it was.
His phone rang and he glanced down. Alex. He jogged over to the side of the yard to take the call. Officers had broken up a teenage party and found prescription drugs at the scene. Quickly saying his goodbyes, his mom walked him to the front door.
She reached up and patted his cheek. “You’re not working too hard are you, Son?”
“No harder than anybody else. Stop worrying.”
“I’m a mom. It’s my job to worry.”
Chuckling, he pulled her in for a hug. He was almost out the door before she added, “I’m hoping you’ll bring somebody home soon.”
Looking over his shoulder, he rolled his eyes. “Mom, just because Brody got together with Amber doesn’t mean I’m next.”
“Well, Marguerite at church told me that she’s got a lovely niece. I think she’s a choir teacher.”
Exaggerating his horror, he threw his hands up into the air. “Good God, Mom! I don’t think that would be a good match!”
“Oh, you!”
Kissing her cheek again, he said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll find somebody when I least expect it.” With a wave, he headed down the front walk to his truck.
Driving home, the memory of Kimberly filled his mind. Yeah, I did meet somebody when I least expected it. And I fuckin’ let her slip away!
9
Kyle and Alex were escorted past security and into the warehouse of Kilton Pharmaceuticals. Stepping into the cavernous building, Kyle’s brows lifted as they silently followed their escort. The warehouse was as large as any found near the Hope City docks. He was struck with the cleanliness of the entire building. The concrete floors and massive metal shelving units that filled the space, rising forty feet toward the ceiling, appeared like new. Men and women walked around, the sound of talking mixed with the beeping of the forklift alarms.
Kyle and Alex continued to follow their escort through the massive rows of shelves stacked with plastic-wrapped cardboard boxes. Passing through a doorway near the back, they came to a brightly-lit, tiled hallway with offices on either side. Their escort knocked on the door and said, “Mr. Myles, the police are here.”
With a chin lift offered to their escort, he and Alex stepped into the office. A glance gave evidence that it was not small, but very utilitarian. Tile floor. Metal bookshelves and desk. No window. The man standing behind the desk was not wearing a tie but had a suit jacket on a hook with a tie draped over the coat hanger. It was hard to determine his age—his hair was already streaked with grey, but his face was not creased with lines.
Kyle showed his identification. “Detective Kyle McBride and my partner, Detective Alex Freeman. We’re assisting the Robbery Division detectives and have a few questions.”
“Welcome to Kilton Pharmaceuticals, detectives. I’m Porter Myles, the supervisor of our Materials Management and Warehouse. Please, sit down.”
Not wasting time, Kyle launched into his questions. “Our concern is the whereabouts of the stolen contents of the van. We’ve interviewed the two drivers of the van involved in the theft on Friday afternoon. The lab has gone over the van, but there are no fingerprints other than the two drivers. Do your loaders wear gloves?”
“Yes. Obviously, the pharmaceuticals are packed in boxes, categorized and labeled, but we want to maintain the integrity of the product and anyone handling the boxes wear gloves.” Porter lowered his brows and said, “I’m assuming that would indicate the thieves wore gloves as well?”
“That’s what was reported by Charlie and Joe. I’d like to get a little information about those two. How long have they been working here? How long have they been working together? How long have they been on that particular route? And then we need to know the specifics of your routing system, including who knows the routes.”
Nodding, Porter turned to his laptop and, with a few taps, began calling out, “Charlie Fisher. Forty-seven years old. He’s been employed with us for almost twenty years. He worked a number of years in Plant Support Services… originally part of our janitorial staff. He eventually moved into the warehouse and has been on driving runs for us for the last six years.”
He did not need to look over at Alex to know that his partner was taking meticulous notes. Kyle wrote when necessary, but his handwriting was chicken scratch and Alex was faster. “And Joe Parson?”
“He’s forty-two years old and has been with us for seventeen years. He began working in the warehouse, eventually moved to forklift driver, and about five years ago became a delivery driver.”
“Any problems with either of them? Any concerns?”
“Detective, I assure you if I had concerns, they would’ve already been addressed. Neither Charlie nor Joe have ever had a blemish on their employment records.”
“Okay, let’s talk about your routing system for deliveries.”
“For that, you’ll need to speak to Tammy. She’s been doing the delivery routings for us for many years. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to her.”
A moment later, they stepped into a much smaller office, greeted by an older woman who bounded toward them, shaking their hands with enthusiasm. “Detectives, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Tammy Rutgers and if you’ve got questions about routing, I’m the person to talk to!”
Once seated, Kyle began. “If you could just tell us—”
“Routing is so different than when I first started. I’ve been at Kilton since it began twenty years ago and started as a secretary. Back then, that’s all they let me do. We weren’t called fancy things like administrative assistants. No, sir! We were just secretaries. But I was tickled to be working in a big factory, so I didn’t care what they called me. I worked for the man that did the routing, and we used to have a big room with maps all over the tables. That’s how it was done back then. We just handled the local deliveries, and let me tell you, that took all our time!”
Leaning forward, he said, “I’m sure. Now, if you could just tell us about—”
“I used to work for a man named Sam Billings. Now, he was old and old-school. I started figuring out some ways that we might make the routing easier, but no, no! He was a nice man, but he wasn’t about to have a woman tell him what to do. Well, one day he had a heart attack—God rest his soul—and everybody here ran around like chickens with their heads cut off! But not me. I knew what to do, and I took it over. I ran the routings for almost a
month before someone finally said should we hire somebody to take over the job. I tell you, detectives, I jumped to my feet and told them that I wasn’t going to train anybody that was going to come in and be over me. I’d been doing it for years and they could pay me to keep on doing it or I was walking!”
He shot a glance to the side, seeing Alex fighting the smile that was threatening to erupt. Deciding Tammy was better off talking than just answering questions, he leaned back and nodded.
“I had things running smooth as silk, but oh, my Lordy, when the Internet came along and we ended up with Google maps, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven! Our drivers ended up with GPS systems that eventually went straight to their phones. We could plot out the quickest routes for our pharmacy and hospital deliveries. I even won employee of the year! That’s my plaque right up there on the wall!”
Kyle’s gaze moved from the bright-eyed face in front of him over to the wall where he was greeted with a large, framed picture of the same bright-eyed face staring at the camera while shaking hands with Robert Kilton. Shifting his gaze back to her, he smiled, murmuring, “Congratulations, Ma’am. That’s quite an honor.”
Hearing the slight snicker coming from beside him, he fought the urge to kick Alex the way he used to kick his brothers under the table. Clearing his throat, he said, “If you could give us an idea how Charlie and Joe’s route works and who else knows about it, that would be such a great help to us.”
He seemed to find the magic words that appeased Tammy’s sense of assistance when she whirled her laptop around and exposed her screen.
“Oh, Detectives, I’ve stayed in this job long enough to see the miracles of technology! We now have a route manager program. I got to be on the task force to decide which one was best, and after looking at quite a few, this is the one we chose. Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I don’t have anything to do. But it’s so much easier. I input all the deliveries that we have to make in Hope City and the surrounding areas. I put in the number of vans that we have available on any given day to make those deliveries and the timeframe in which we are working. This program does its magic and Poof, it creates delivery schedules for us. All I have to do is tweak them if needed and then print them out!”
Finally getting to the information he was seeking, Kyle jumped in quickly before she found another tangent to go off on. “I’m afraid we’re short on time, Ms. Rutgers. We need to know how far in advance the drivers are given their routes and who has access to the routes.”
Her face fell and she scrunched her nose in obvious disappointment at not continuing her tales. “Oh, I do realize you’re very busy, detectives. To answer your questions, the drivers are given their routes weekly. I don’t do it further out than that because there can always be changes. A pharmacy calls to change what they need. A new pharmacy is added to our client list. One of my drivers might be sick. But, first thing on Monday mornings, my drivers pick up their routes for the week and then, if I need to make changes during the week, I call them in to see me and give them an amended printout.”
“So, for the deliveries made last Friday by Charlie and Joe, they would’ve had that information the previous Monday morning?” Obtaining her nod, he jumped in quickly, “And who at Kilton has access to the routes?”
Her brow crinkled and her ever-present smile dropped from her face. “I confess, I haven’t really thought about that. Let’s see, obviously me and the drivers. I know the drivers talk amongst themselves… sometimes they’re convinced that someone gets an easier route than they have so they like to compare, which, quite frankly, irritates me—”
“Anyone else?”
“My direct supervisor, Mr. Trogdon, and, of course, the supervisor over the whole warehouse that you met this morning, Mr. Myles. We want to be very sure that no one gets in and messes with my system so I don’t think anyone else would know what they are.”
“Are the routes posted up anywhere?” Alex interjected.
“Oh, no! The drivers have to come in and see me personally to get their routes.”
“And if you happen to be out…”
Her wide smile back on her face, Tammy preened. “Detectives, I haven’t missed a day of work in almost twenty years. I do believe I’m up for another award!”
Kimberly met Bob at the back entrance to the warehouse. The nudge from Sidney gave her the idea to start finding out about more of the workers, and she called Bob to ask if he had anyone she could interview.
“Well, if you’re looking for interesting characters that have been around for a long time, come on over.”
As they walked through the cavernous building, she was fascinated at the massive, metal shelving units that held thousands of boxes of pharmaceuticals. As they weaved through the aisles, Bob would stop and introduce her to a number of the workers.
She met new hires who were excited to have the pay and benefits. She chatted with employees who had been working for many years, several sharing their stories of the changes in the pharmaceutical industry. Invited to have lunch in their workroom, she gleefully pulled out her notepad and scribbled as they continued sharing.
An older man sitting across from her said, “This warehouse is a helluva lot better than what I used to work in. I started on the docks of Hope City about thirty years ago. ‘Course, that wasn’t in this industry… I was working for a steel shipping company. Those warehouses were freezing in the winter and boiling hot in the summer. And dirty… have mercy, they were dirty.”
“How long have you worked for Kilton?” she asked, wishing she could take his picture, wanting to capture the deep creases in his face that told of long years of hard work.
“Started at the beginning. I reckon that’s been about twenty years ago. It was always a lot nicer than down on the docks, but even then, we didn’t have this building. They built this about fifteen years ago. Temperature controlled. Clean. A real emphasis on safety.”
“Do you feel like Kilton Pharmaceuticals has been a good company to work for?” She directed her questions to the older man but cast her gaze around the table as the men and women ate their lunches.
Almost all nodded but allowed the older man to answer. “It would be real easy to say I wouldn’t be working here if it wasn’t a good place, but the truth of the matter is, like most of us, I need a paycheck. But I’ve got no complaints. There’s a lot of rules and regulations to follow considering we’re handling a lot of high-powered drugs every day. We’ve got to make sure they’re stored correctly, ready for transport the right way, and then shipped out where they’re needed.”
A burly man with a heavy beard leaned forward and pinned her with a hard stare. “Ms. Hogan, I know you said you work for Kilton’s marketing, but we’ve never had anybody come down here and talk to us before. What exactly are you looking for?”
She sucked in her lips and looked at the faces staring back at her. Hoping she could find the right words to express what she was looking for, she sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’ve spent the last four years working in the marketing department, designing material that goes to doctors and hospitals, patients, even education. Most of it is very clinical, and certainly presents Kilton as a leading pharmaceutical company.”
She hesitated, then plunged ahead. “A few months ago, Kilton was raked over the coals when it hit the news that some of our opioid drugs had been stolen and were being sold on the streets, encouraging addiction.”
Several snorted and others rolled their eyes.
“Yeah… ol’ Terry was gettin’ some on the side from that sales rep—”
A hand slapped down on the table causing Kimberly and the others to jump. Blinking, she jerked her wide-eyed gaze to one of the older men.
“I work long and hard to make the money I take home to my family. I got grandkids that I teach to leave drugs alone and that shithead made a lot on the side by screwing more than that piece of skirt. Don’t give him any credit for anything other than being a snake in the grass!”
The table grew quiet and the man let out a ragged breath. He lifted his gaze and, after a long moment, finally said, “Sorry, Ms. Hogan.”
“No, it’s fine. And that’s partially why I want to show a different side of our company. The real people who work here who care a great deal about not only their job but the company.”
Her response seemed to have the desired effect of nods and smiles as many of the workers around the table murmured their appreciation. She continued to write down their musings, especially the ones who had been around for years. When lunch finished, she shook their hands, thanked them profusely, and made her way back to Bob’s office. Stepping inside, she said, “You know, I’ve never been in here.”
“Hey, you work up in the big house with all the fancy people.”
“Hmph. I’ve worked in the main building for three years, and until last week I’ve never been to the third or fourth floor. They’ve got carpet up there!”
He laughed, his eyes twinkling. “Were you nervous talking to the bigwigs?”
“Oh, my God, yes! I talked to several of the vice presidents and department supervisors. My goodness, their assistants were dressed better than I do!”
“You make good on this assignment, you might move up the corporate ladder. Who knows, one of them may want you to be their assistant.”
Shaking her head, she grinned at his teasing. “No, thank you. But I figure this is good experience for continuing to write articles for the magazine. Who knows, one day I might get paid full time to write what I want.”
Just then, an older woman popped her head into Bob’s office. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t know you had a visitor.”
“Tammy, this is perfect timing,” Bob said, standing and walking toward her. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine who works for Kilton and is doing some articles about the people who work in our company. You’d be a perfect person for her to talk to.”
Kyle (Hope City Book 4) Page 8