Murder at Fire Bay (26 page)

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Is Ralph at work today? We don’t think he is, but just in case we missed him, would you check?”

I left the phone in my chair and went out on the floor, where I asked the other janitor if he had seen Ralph. He hadn’t, so on the way back to my office, I asked Sam Goodnight, who was busy as usual at his case. He shook his head, no.

I sighed and looked at Martha’s case. She still wasn’t at work. What the hell was going on? Back in the office I picked up the phone. “John, you still there?”

“Yeah, Leo, I’m still here.”

I explained that Ralph wasn’t there either.
 

“Well, keep a sharp eye out; something is going down. I’ll be on my cell phone. Give me a call when it does. You got that?”

“Yeah, Crouch, I got that. By the way, how did you know Ralph was missing?”

“Sorry, Leo. I’ll explain later. Have a good day.”

With that last admonition, he hung up. I leaned way back in my chair and looked up at the ceiling for inspiration. Were Martha and Ashley tied together somehow? Was Martha’s dislike for Ashley an act?

It was then I noticed something funny about one of the ceiling tiles in the false ceiling. At first I put it down to a trick of lighting. But the closer I looked, the more one of the holes in the tiles looked different. Then it hit me. Light trick my foot; it was a camera lens! Well, I had issued the challenge to Crouch, hadn’t I? I smiled up at it and waved. Then I set bolt upright. I jumped to my feet, and headed to Ashley’s office. I’m sure the troops were wondering what was going on as I meandered around her desk, my head held back.
 

The camera lens was in the same place as the one in my office, right above the desk. If anything it was harder to spot. Crouch’s crew had done a first-rate job. If the crew out on the main floor had been watching, they would have seen me break into laughter. Moot Point Moving Company indeed. Old Crouch probably had a good laugh over that one.
 

“Yeah, you should have seen old Bronski out there threatening Fred! ‘You had better have this truck out of here by Monday!’”

This thought caused me to laugh even harder. I finally got myself stopped, but the not before the tears were rolling down my face. Who would have thought? In spite of myself, I giggled as I wiped at my tears.

“You okay . . .sir?”

It was the not-so-young blond kid, Sam Goodnight, standing at the office door.

I looked over at him and nodded. “Yes, Sam, I’m okay. I just realized something that gave me a feeling of relief. Something I’ve been worried about. I have just discovered yet again that life is not always what it seems.”

I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

His look of concern gave way to one of wisdom. His eyes twinkled. He smiled and nodded. “Indeed I do, sir.”

I dropped my hand from his shoulder and he sauntered back out onto the main floor. I watched him go, noting the confidence in his stride. There was something about him. Then the revelation hit me. Talk about having an ace up one’s sleeve. The giggles started again, but I managed to contain them before I broke out into laughter. The Boss. He had done it again.
 

I left Ashley’s office and went back to mine. In all probability there were more cameras here and there, but I wasn’t going to waste time looking for them. Maybe I would find out after the present situation was over with. But I might not. Postal inspectors are a clan of their own. Being omniscient was their game, and they liked the employees to be aware of that. Fear that you’re going to get caught keeps a person on the straight and narrow—that was their credo.

Chapter 33

On impulse, I reached for the phone. It was a call I wasn’t sure I wanted to make, but I was going to make it anyway. I listened as Martha’s phone rang three times. Was she home? A person on sick leave was supposed to be, there or at the doctor’s office. After four rings, I heard a very soft “hello.”

“Martha! How’s it going?”

I got another one-word answer for my attempt at being jovial. “Okay.”

I went on to explain that I had taken pictures the day before and that I had everyone’s picture but hers for my scrapbook. About that time I heard myself prattling on and realized, she must be wondering why I’d called her out of a sick bed to chat about my photo project. Since asking an employee on sick leave what their trouble was, was beyond my purview. I tried a softer approach.

“Is there anything I can do?”

The answer was a cold, “No.”

“Well, okay then, Martha, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Your getting well is important to me and not just because we need you here, okay?”

“Okay.”
 

I sighed, said my good-bye, and hung up. Those one-word replies were not conducive to conversation. She really sounded down, and I had a hunch she was nursing a wound, the kind that most of the time didn’t ooze any blood, but disturb it a little bit and it festered. Hopefully we could heal it, once we knew what it was.
 

I looked at my watch. Ah-ha! Coffee time! It so happened it was 10:30 a.m. Not that it mattered, but Emily might be at the Eat More Café. I needed someone I could confide in and, so far, she was doing a good job of listening. Besides, she needed a little background for her big story, didn’t she?

Since Ashley was Lord knows where, I decided to give Abby a rest and selected Sam Goodnight to be temporary supervisor. I had a hunch that position wouldn’t be any trouble for him. He took my cell phone number and I was out the door.

Emily wasn’t there when I entered the café. Ah, well, perhaps she was out somewhere rounding up a story about some hapless unsuspecting do-gooder. That was a good thing about small-town newspapers. While they did seem to delight in covering scandal, graph, and corruption, they also showed the good things about small towns.
 

I sat down at our usual table near the back and ordered a roll and coffee.

“If you’re looking for your table-mate, she ain’t here.”

I looked up at the waitress. Such wisdom.

“No, I guess not.”

“She left not five minutes before you got here, in a hurry too. Somebody called her on the phone.”

My ears perked up when I heard this, and I wondered what was going on. At that moment my cell phone rang. With a sense of foreboding, I drew it out of my pocket while the waitress looked on, hoping, I guessed, for a juicy piece of gossip.

“Boss, it’s me, Sam Goodnight. You have to return right now. There has been a robbery! Out on the parking lot!”

“What?”
 

“Yes, sir, a robbery!”

I tried to maintain my composure, but I’m sure the waitress was reading all sorts of things on my face: disbelief, anger, you name it.
 

“Cancel the coffee and roll,” I said, as I headed for the door.

To her credit, she said not a word.

Back at the post office, I literally ran in the back door. To my astonishment, everyone was still working at their posts, but as one they all turned their heads toward me.

“Where’s Sam?” I bellowed.

He appeared out of nowhere at my elbow. “Right here, boss.”
 

“What the hell is going on?”

“Two women bank employees were held up on our parking lot out front.”

“How much?” I asked.

Sam looked nervously around. “One hundred thousand,” he whispered.

My eyeballs must have looked like they were going to drop on the floor, because Sam felt it necessary to repeat the amount. I took a deep swallow and looked around. All the employees were deeply engrossed in their jobs, or at least they were putting on a good act.

“Shall we go to your office, sir?”

I nodded, and we made our way to my office with me trying to get my mental house in order.
 

As soon as we closed the door, I asked,

“How many minutes ago did this happen?’

Sam looked at his watch. “About fifteen, ” he answered. He went on to say he had called the local cops who were already out in the front parking lot quizzing local townspeople who had witnessed the robbery. He had not yet called the Boss. I sat down and shook my head. Of all the wrong things to happen. It’s not too well known by the public, but the post office does transport money from time to time. As I was to find out later, these two ladies had been moving the money from the bank to the post office for years with few people being the wiser. Well, I decided, it was time to call the Boss. I reached for the phone.

“What?”

“Boss? It’s me.”

“Yeah, I know. Now what? I’m in the middle of a union conference.”

I almost smiled. I knew he was operating under a handicap without his cigar. I went on to tell him about the robbery and asked if I should contact the postal inspectors.
 

“Yeah,” he said, “keep me posted.”

The line went dead.
 

I next called John Crouch. To my surprise, he answered on the first ring.
 

“John, have you heard about the robbery?”

“Yeah, I just got off the phone to the FBI. They will have a man on a plane down there as soon as they can. I’ll be in touch.”

Now, how in the world had he heard about the robbery so quickly? I looked up at the ceiling. Of course.
 

I hung up the phone and looked at Sam. “Get the people together for a quick stand-up meeting.”

He nodded and left while I took another deep breath and thought about what I should say to the troops about the robbery. In a quick minute, Sam was back. “They’re ready, sir.”

You could have heard a pin drop as I walked out onto the main floor. Everyone was gathered in their respective cliques with the up-front counter clerks on one side of the group and the distribution clerks on the other end.
 

I tried to be cool as I could, stating that while robberies don’t happen every day, we still had a job to do. That I expected their cooperation, not only Postal Service-wise, but with the local police, should that become necessary.
 

“One thing I do promise,” I went on, “is that we will do our utmost to keep you informed. While I’m working on this crisis, Sam Goodnight will be the acting supervisor.”

When I said that, Sam Goodnight’s head actually jerked back in surprise. I could not stop a smile from coming to my face.

“Sam is new here, but he has been with the Postal Service a number of years and has the experience to do the job. If you have questions about your work, please see him. I bet he and whoever has the problem can solve it. Okay, that’s it.”

There were many surprised looks besides Sam’s.
 

He sidled up to me. “Are you sure about this, boss?”

I smiled in amusement. “Sam, I’ve never been more sure in my life. I know and you know you can do the job. If you’re concerned about what other people will think, don’t be. As a matter of fact, I know Abby will be secretly relieved, right?”

He nodded.

I clapped him on the back. “So enough of the modesty thing. You’re good to go. Go do your stuff. I have other things to do.”

I left him standing there, wheels turning in his brain. I had no doubt he would do a fine job. Whether the employees would accept another change of supervisors remained to be seen. As I entered my office, I took a quick look back at him. He was no longer standing, but was moving with a purpose toward a case. I had to admire the Boss; he knew good people when he saw them and I realized again that intrigue in a royal court couldn’t hold a candle to politics in the Postal Service.

Back in my office, I pulled the shades up and noted Wattle was still questioning various citizens. I sat for a moment collecting my thoughts. While I was sitting there, Jim, my favorite janitor came in the open door and emptied my wastebasket. An idea knocked and a light bulb turned on.
 

“So how’s your Cessna airplane doing?”

Jim straightened up from his work with a raised eyebrow. “Fine. Just got it checked by the FAA. It’s good to go.”

I regarded him for a few seconds, my thumbs twiddling nervously. “If I were to buy the gas, would you take me flying?”

His face broke open into a smile. “Are you kidding? When do we leave?”

“Pretty darn quick, if I have my way. Do you have a weapon of some sort? And maybe a sleeping bag or two?”

He nodded.

“Before you volunteer, I want you to know this could turn out to be dangerous. You understand?”

“Yes,” he said, and nodded.

“Good, clock out, go home and gather up survival gear and what weapons you have, and come back here. You’re still single, right?”

He nodded yes. I heaved a sigh of relief. I was not about to take a married man out on the trail, especially since this was going to be an unauthorized mission. The Boss would be angry when he found out, but that was a chance I was willing to take.