Red Tape (7 page)

I giggled at her. She looked so serious. “Why? Were they made with laxatives or something?” I joked with her.

She yelled at me, “Rodney made them!”

Oh no. I threw the partially eaten cookie on the floor and jumped away from it. I spit out what I was chewing in a napkin. I wasn’t feeling good from the chocolate. I was feeling good from the dope! Oh, no. A million things went through my mind.
Should I go to the ladies’ room and make myself vomit? I’ve never been high before. Is this what it feels like? Oh no, how am I going to take care of the baby? How am I going to drive?
I thought Rodney only made pot brownies. How was I supposed to know he also made “feel good” cookies? How the heck was I going to explain this to my parents?
Oh wait, I’m old enough. I don’t have to explain this to my parents.

My train of thought was broken by Bonnie saying, “Have you ever been high before?”

I guessed she could see the concern written on my face, or maybe she just knew me better than I realized.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I doubt you are feeling the effects if you’ve never tried marijuana before.”

I heard her calling my parents and telling them that I wasn’t feeling well and saying she would take me home. She asked them to keep the baby overnight because I didn’t want Mandy to catch my stomach bug. She marched me back into my office, handed me my cell phone and purse, and took my car keys. She said she’d drive me home in my car and have someone pick her up to bring her back to the office. She told me to sleep it off and that I’d feel normal again in the morning. I started to giggle.

“What is so funny about this?” she asked.

“I was thinking…I guess this is absolutely what you would call a ‘pot’ luck lunch!” I burst into laughter.

“I’m glad you still have your sense of humor about you.”

“Am I going to get arrested for taking an illegal substance? Or lose my job?” I asked Bonnie.

“You’re not going to tell anyone,” she said.

Chapter
8

“Sizzling” was the best way to describe summer this year. We were in a drought and conserving water. Luckily, residents hadn’t complained about it; no one had a lawn to keep green in this town. I was pleased that our HVAC system was replaced and no one had tampered with the new one.

Rodney appeared at our office window at three o’clock. “You two can go ahead and close up early. We’re closing down the building for a day or two.”

“Why?” I asked.

“The mayor said she saw a bedbug and she wants it checked out by an exterminator. She didn’t want any of the employees to have to be in the building if there are bedbugs in here.”

“Well, I should hope not.”

Bonnie looked at me like she was going to throw up. “If there are bedbugs in here, I’m really going to freak out.”

“I know. That’s disgusting. Let’s get the heck out of here,” I said.

I closed the office faster than I had ever closed it before. I grabbed my purse and ran to my car. I was completely repulsed. I entered my house through the backdoor, which was adjacent to the laundry area. I stripped off my clothes and threw them in the dryer with my shoes on the hottest setting to kill any traces of bedbugs or their eggs. I then hopped into a hot shower. Knowing there was a possibility of nearly invisible little creatures crawling on my body sent chills down my spine. I shampooed my hair four times and scrubbed my skin twice.

I threw my hair in a ponytail since I didn’t feel like drying it, put on some new clothes, and headed over to my parents’ house to get my daughter.

The building remained closed for another day while it was fumigated. It was Friday when we were able to return to work. While I didn’t feel like going back to work for fear of bedbugs, the agenda was due for the council meeting and I was already behind due to having off yesterday. I put a fake smile on my face, hiked my purse onto my shoulder, and walked through the main doors to start my day.

“It smells in here,” Bonnie said.

“Would you rather have bedbugs in here?” I asked.

We saw Rodney walking by in the hallway. He had a giddy look on his face and his cheeks were a little red.

“Someone’s been smoking the green stuff,” Bonnie said.

“
Shhh
! He’ll hear you.”

I went to the hallway and followed Rodney. “Rod, how did you make out with the exterminators?”

“Just fine,” he said. “They said they couldn’t find any evidence that bedbugs were in here, but they sprayed just in case.”

“That’s a relief,” I said.

I reported the news to Bonnie. “No bedbugs were found; they sprayed as a precaution.”

“Is this stuff safe for us to inhale? It’s really stinky.”

“Open up some windows. I’m sure the smell will air out.”

Just then, the fire alarms roared.

“Better yet, you can get some fresh air outside,” I said to Bonnie.

We stood under a tree in the parking lot to stay as cool as we could from the heat. We watched Engine No. One pull into the lot.

“Over here, Mr. Fireman. I got a fire burning right here,” Bonnie said as she made a hand motion toward her “personal space.”

“You are going to get into so much trouble if someone hears you,” I told her.

Bonnie smirked. “I hope it’s the good kind of trouble.”

“I am going to walk away from you now.”

“Oh, lord. Why are you so prissy? I’m just joking. They are all the way over there with the engine rumbling. No one can hear me but you.”

I rolled my eyes. Not only was she going to get herself into deep water one day, she was going to get me into trouble too since I was her boss and witness to her sexual bantering.

I looked to my right and saw Mr. Triggers pulling into the parking lot.

“Ugh, not again,” I said. He had already been here twice this week and I really did not feel like dealing with him for a third time. He was wearing orange shorts, a pale blue polo that was too small for his large belly and a green necktie. He saw Bonnie and me standing under the tree and approached us.

“Hello, Mr. Triggers,” I said. I gagged on the odor coming from him. Bonnie cupped her hand over her nose nonchalantly, like she had an itch, and she turned in the opposite direction. I tried to breathe through my mouth.

Triggers handed me a nine-page records request, then left.

“Thank god he left right away,” Bonnie said. “I almost puked in my mouth.”

“Do you think he just doesn’t shower, or do you think he doesn’t wear deodorant?” I asked.

“I don’t know and don’t care. I’d rather smell the pesticides in the office than his stink any day.”

“Agreed.”

“You would think his wife would tell him he stinks.”

“He’s married? I find that hard to believe.”

“He wears a wedding ring.”

“I never noticed. Poor woman. I guess that goes to show there’s someone for everyone.”

“What the heck is he requesting now?” Bonnie asked.

“Nine pages of junk, let’s see…” I started to read down the list of demands. “Ethics forms for all employees, the coastal hazard mitigation manual, construction permits for those who have elevated their houses, the dune revegetation program, the beach protection plan, the name and address of the mayor’s full-time job, so on, and so forth.”

“Sounds like he’s targeting the mayor.”

“I know, right? If I were her, I’d hire a security guard.”

“Are you going to give him her job information?” Bonnie asked. “If I were the mayor, I wouldn’t want him to know where I worked. He might start showing up there like a stalker.”

“Good point. I don’t know if I have to. I’ll have to look for a law about whether or not that is considered confidential information. I might be able to deny it on the basis that it is a request for information and not a request for a particular document. But, he’s going to figure it out anyway, you have to list your source of income on the mandatory ethics forms. The name of her job will be listed on her ethics form, and he could just look up the address on the internet.”

I never gave Mr. Triggers the information on the mayor’s full-time job, but I heard from the mayor that he had indeed figured out where she worked. He showed up at her work several times, harassing her. She had to file a formal complaint with the police department. They gave him a warning that he was not to show up there again.

* * *

The next week, Triggers stopped in to see me Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, two hours each day. He was either picking up records or requesting more of them. He was usually angry. He never smiled. He always insulted me. He was especially annoyed whenever I had to tell him I couldn’t disclose something.

The second I thought that I couldn’t take him any longer, that I couldn’t keep up with all my work and spend fourteen hours per week on one resident, he took a break from his visits to the municipal building.

On Monday, August 13
th
, Bonnie and I came to work prepared to go through everything in our office in an attempt to find the missing safety paper. Between Triggers, break-ins, floods, and fires, I hadn’t had much time to stop and look through everything, but I knew this had to get done.

I was dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved navy blue blouse. Bonnie wore jeans with three-inch heels that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined. She had on a fancy multi-colored shirt and she was adorned with lots of jewelry. She looked more like she was going out clubbing than going through papers in an office.

“Did you, by chance, box up any records while I was on leave?” I asked her.

“No, I didn’t have time to do that,” she said.

“Did it possibly end up in the trash by accident?”

“I guess anything is possible. I was beside myself, insanely busy with work while you were gone, but I honestly don’t think it would have ended up in the trash. I typically don’t take the pack of paper out of the drawer. Whenever I get a request, I pull out only the amount of paper that I need—a few sheets at a time at most.”

“What about when the FBI agents were here? Do you think they had a reason to take it?”

“It’s possible.”

“First thing we need to do is go through everything in this office—every storage cabinet, every drawer, every file—to see if we misplaced it. If we still can’t find it, I’ll get in touch with Tex to see if he can find out if the Feds took it. If we don’t have any luck there, then I’ll have to notify the state registrar. I hope it’s not missing because that would be a hassle for us. They will probably tell us to stop issuing certified copies until they investigate.”

I saw out of the corner of my eye that the mayor was waiting impatiently at the door to our office.

I let her in, saying, “I’m sorry, Mayor, I didn’t see you standing there.”

“No worries, what were you saying about safety paper?” she asked.

“Oh, I guess I haven’t told you that around the time of the break-in, we noticed some safety paper was missing. I’m not sure if it was taken at that time or perhaps misplaced. We are doing a thorough search of the office today and if we don’t find it, we’ll take the next steps.”

“Have you already reported the paper missing?” she asked.

“I did report it to Detective Texidoro previously—when he took my statement after the robbery. And he knows that we are not sure if it was taken during the robbery or if we simply misplaced it. I’ll notify him of my findings tomorrow, then I’ll email the state registrar to let him know what is going on.”

“Okay,” the mayor said with a strange look on her face, and then she left.

“Do you think she’s mad about something?” I asked Bonnie.

“That was a weird look she gave you,” Bonnie responded.

“Maybe she thinks I took too long to look into this? Or maybe she’s worried something bad is going to come of this?”

“Maybe a bug crawled up her rectum and bit her.”

We both laughed and shrugged it off as we resumed our search for the paper. A few moments later, the fire alarms went off again.

“I’m really sick of this,” I said to Bonnie.

“You think you’re sick of it, I’ve been putting up with it since you were out on maternity leave.”

“I don’t understand why they don’t get it fixed. Battery-operated smoke detectors would be better than this.”

We headed out of the office to wait in the sweltering heat. The fire trucks rolled up to the building and Bonnie spouted her inappropriateness like always.

“Oh, Mr. Fireman, come on over here and let me see your big apparatus.”

“Oh, puh-lease!” I said to her as I chuckled.

We were dripping with sweat by the time they allowed us back into the building.

“Those firemen make me all hot and bothered,” Bonnie said.

“You better watch that your husband doesn’t hear you talking about firemen in your sleep,” I said.

We continued our search for the paper. After seven hours of hunting, we gave up. We looked in every file, every drawer, and every crevice of office space, but we didn’t find the paper.

“Looks like we need to see if the FBI took the safety paper. I’ll make a note to call Tex in the morning. He probably has a contact and could find out for us. I know he’s not on duty today,” I said to Bonnie.