The Day Steam Died (21 page)

Chapter 42

“Sadly, the day finally came when Bankstowne Shops no longer fulfilled its once indispensable role in the modern Coastline Railway operations.”

Return to Winston-Salem

Rick and Candi managed to get their eyes back to their original color before going to work Monday morning after New Year’s. She covered her dark circles with makeup, but there was no way to hide Rick’s droopy eyelids. He was anxious to get back to work and to Winston-Salem to follow up on a possible contact at Sam’s warehouse.

Rick didn’t waste any time and headed straight for Dan’s office. He hesitated at the door and said, “Good morning, Dan,” before walking in. “Have a good holiday?” Rick didn’t feel as cheerful as he tried to sound.

Dan sat at his desk, his tie not quite straight. He pressed his palm against his forehead and sighed. “Yeah, we had a quiet night at home. We watched the ball drop on Times Square with Gretchen home from Virginia for the holidays. Okay, what’s up? You didn’t come in here to talk about my holiday.”

Rick took a deep breath. “I need to go back to Winston-Salem. I’ve stumbled onto a possible lead on Sam Johnson’s operation. At the Dixie Classics basketball tournament, a drunk spilled beer down the back of my jacket. When I confronted him about it, he gave me his leather jacket and took my parka to have it cleaned.”

“Nice gesture, but what does that have to do with Sam Johnson?”

“Are you ready for this? This guy won the jacket as employee of the year at S & T Distribution Company. Can you believe the luck? He’s the warehouse foreman! What better excuse could I have for getting inside the building than pretending to check and make sure he got his jacket back? If I can work him a little, maybe I can turn him into a source and find out what’s going on in there. Candi can stay out of sight and shoot the action on the loading dock.”

“It’s pretty thin, but it’s all we have. Be careful, the word is that Johnson’s tied in with the Mafia and one of their goons is on site.”

“Uh, one more thing. I need to make a trip to Bankstowne soon and check on my mother. She’s been down with arthritis and can’t do her crocheting anymore and calls me up in tears.”

“Why don’t you pay her a visit after you finish up at Winston? It would be a good opportunity to introduce her to Candi.” Dan raised his left eyebrow and took a sip of that nasty imported coffee he loved.

“Thanks, boss, why didn’t I think of that?” he said with a huge grin. “See you Thursday.”

Rick left Dan’s office before he had time to change his mind. He needn’t have worried.

Dan made no secret of his confidence in Rick at staff meetings. It was obvious to everyone in the newsroom that Rick was Dan’s favorite. Most accepted it because Rick was a good reporter.

The sun reflected off mounds of snow from the Christmas storm piled up on both sides of the highway, forcing Rick to don his sun glasses. All six lanes of I-40 coming in and going out of Raleigh were clear, but many side roads and back streets along the way were still reduced to one lane.

Candi curled up in the passenger’s seat and slept most of the way to Winston-Salem. Rick glanced at her occasionally with an approving smile. She’d succumbed to the cat effect, as Rick called it. The warmth of the sun streaming through the windshield and the comfort of her life right now had the effect of a narcotic.

Coming through Greensboro where I-85 intersects I-40, an eighteen-wheeler changed lanes and forced Rick to hit his brakes and swerve to miss the trailer. Candi was jolted from her nap and thrown into the dash from her seat.

“Jesus, Rick, what was that? You damn near broke my neck.”

“I’m sorry. That big rig almost slammed into me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but my neck will be stiff tomorrow. How close are we?”

Before Rick could answer, a green and white highway sign whizzed by:
Winston-Salem 10 miles
. Candi rotated her shoulders and rubbed her neck.

After a long silence, they finally approached the
Welcome to
Winston-Salem
, sign. Candi turned toward Rick with the most serious expression he had seen on her face since they became a couple.

“What exactly am I supposed to do when we get to this warehouse? Are we going to tell them we are reporters or what? And ask, ‘Oh, by the way, what kind of illegal business are you running here?’ I’m a photographer, not a reporter playing detective. Other than for a fun night at the Marriott at the paper’s expense, why am I here?”

“I told Dan you would stay out of sight and shoot pictures of what they’re doing on the loading dock. Is there a problem?”

“No. I just wanted to know if you were really working on the Johnson story or just using this as an excuse for me to meet your mother. How did you square that with Dan?”

“Actually, he suggested it. He really is trying to get us down the aisle, you know.”

“Are you shitting me?” Candi’s voice reverberated in Rick’s ear. “I know he’s been playing cupid, but marriage? Where did that come from? If you put that idea in his head, then you had better straighten him out. You’re the most honest man I’ve ever met but don’t screw up a good relationship by talking about marriage. That’s the last thing on my mind right now.” She turned away from Rick, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared straight ahead. Her jaw twitched from her tightly clinched teeth.

“I’ve never said anything to Dan about us getting married. No way am I giving him any signals like that. He just thinks of me like I’m his son, and I guess he wants us to get married to fulfill some fantasy he’s having. Maybe going to meet my mother gave him the wrong idea. We can just go back to Raleigh when we finish up at the warehouse if that’s what you want.”

“I was serious when I said I wanted to meet your mom, but Jesus, that doesn’t mean I want to be her daughter-in-law. From your description she sounds a lot like my mom. That’s all there was to it.”

“So what’s it going to be? Visit my mom or go back to Raleigh?”

“There you go again. You leave all the decisions to me,” Candi said.

“What’s gotten into you, are you having PMS or something?”

Candi shot him a venomous look. “I’m allowed to be irritable without you chalking it up to my period. I’m just getting restless. I like our relationship just the way it is, but I don’t want it to suffocate my creativity as a photographer. I want to do something more important that shooting car crash scenes, basketball games, and spelling bee contest winners.”

“Oh, the urge to go to Africa is back,” Rick said in a condescending tone.

“Don’t make fun. It’s terrible what’s going on over there and we aren’t getting the story. The paper is full of the daily body count of our boys in Vietnam, but where’s the attention to people suffering in other places of the world?”

“I’m sorry we don’t have any starving babies in Raleigh to photograph, but that’s what I like about living in this country.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Candi snapped.

Before Candi could say anything more, Rick turned off I-40 on to Mountain Street.

“Can we finish this conversation later?” he said. “We’re almost there. Just have to follow the tracks for a couple of miles.”

Chapter 43

“The new facility in Atlanta offered opportunities for some, but modern automation reduced the number of jobs needed there, bringing many back home to the comfort of the town they had built.”

Undercover visit

Rick pulled his Corvair into an unmarked driveway. Melted snow had turned the graveled parking lot into a quagmire. The only cleared area was full of twenty or so employee cars. Rick thought it strange that there was no sign for visitor or vendor parking. His suspicion that they were hiding something reinforced his earlier theory. There was no sign on the building to identify the company and its plain metal structure with no windows felt unwelcoming.

“See if you can work your way around back to the loading dock by the tracks,” Rick instructed Candi, who had walked around the car with her 750 zoom lens Hassalblad draped over her shoulder. “And if anybody sees you, just tell them you’re doing cover photos for a feature piece I’m writing on the resurgence of railroad shipping, or something like that. If that happens, see if you can talk to them and find out what they know about the operation. Okay?”

“Sure, I love tramping around in mud and snow deeper than my boots,” Candi replied. She headed toward the end of the building to sneak across to the other side of the tracks to get a good view of the loading dock.

Rick continued scanning the building for security cameras, but if they were there, he couldn’t spot them.

The front door was gray and metal with only a short viewing slot at eye level. A floral wreath hung from the door. Its purple sash bore golden letters:
In Loving Memory of Jerry Blackmon, Beloved Husband and Father
.

Finding no door handle, only a deadbolt key hole, Jerry punched the button on the call box. He waited impatiently. No response. He punched the button again and held it for a few seconds. After the second ring, the viewing slot slid open, revealing a pair of wrinkled eyes behind wire-mesh glass.

The speaker hissed before it delivered a high-pitched message barely audible over the background static. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Rick Barnes and would like to speak to Ronnie Gains.”

“What about?” she shot back.

“I want to make sure he got his leather jacket back okay.” He felt uncomfortable being grilled by some stranger behind a metal door. He was the reporter and was supposed to ask the questions.

The woman opened the door and invited Rick inside in a softer tone than came through the outside speaker. She was a short, graying woman. She showed him to a seat in the corner of the small office.

His eyes started burning as soon as he stepped inside the door. The air was heavy with a blue haze of cigarette smoke. Rick already didn’t like this person or place. He dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief then looked around, visually recording the room and its contents. There was a coffee table with a few tattered magazines scattered on it in front of a well-worn couch. They obviously weren’t accustomed to visitors other than the vending machine man.

“Wait here. I’ll go get him,” the woman said and left through a door that displayed an
Employees Only
sign.

Rick noted the sparse furnishings of the office, no visible communication system with the warehouse area, and a couple of filing cabinets he would love to be able to get into.

Rick got up and wandered toward two desks that faced each other on the other side of the office to see anything that was lying open. Each desk had Snowpak splattered IBM Selectric typewriters and a wide bed IBM spreadsheet machine. One desk had a nameplate: Mrs. Marie Short. But there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The employees-only door swung open, catching Rick by surprise. The woman led two men into the office.

“Mr. Barnes, this is Ronnie Gaines.” The woman motioned her head toward the lanky young man in a watch cap and coveralls pulling his gloves off. She went back to work at the desk with the nameplate.

“Hi, Ronnie, remember me?” Rick extended his hand.

“Yeah, I know who you are. I thank you for mailing my jacket back, but you could’ve called and saved yourself a trip.” Without another word, Ronnie turned to go back through the door.

“Hey, Ronnie, could I speak with you for a moment?” Rick asked and motioned toward the couch in the corner.

“What for? I got work to do. I ain’t got time to talk to no reporter,” he said and opened the door.

Joey who, had been standing unnoticed in the background, blocked Rick’s path when he tried to follow Ronnie into the warehouse. “Mr. Gaines is busy, Mr. Barnes. I’ll walk you to the door.” Joey said sternly.

Rick was in no position to argue with the tall, muscular man in the dark suit. Olive-colored skin and dark, slicked–back hair in a ducktail further convinced him this must be the Mafia goon Dan was talking about.

Rick raised his hands in surrender, stepped back and turned his attention to Marie.

“Mrs. Short, I noticed a wreath on the front door. Do you mind if I ask who that’s for?” Rick asked, working his way over to her desk.

Joey stepped back but kept Rick under close surveillance.

“That’s for the husband of the woman that works at the other desk. He worked for the railroad but was like one of our own employees. They met here and were like a son and daughter to me.”

Rick had hit a soft spot on the tough, guarded woman. If he played sympathetic, this might be his chance to pry some information from her. But he had to get her away from the Mafioso.

Marie hung her head. “They have two beautiful children who won’t have a father now because of me.”

“Mrs. Short, you’re upset,” Rick said. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable over on the couch?” He took her hand, gently pulled her up from her chair, and led her to the couch.

She didn’t resist the charm Rick was laying on her. She paused, took a breath, and continued. “He died in an accident during the snow storm. His truck went over the side of the mountain on 421,” Marie said as her emotions worked their way to the surface.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Rick said in feigned sincerity, thinking he might be able to take advantage of her emotional state. “What was her husband’s job here at the warehouse?” Rick slipped a question between snubs into her handkerchief.

Joey watched every move closely.

With no response to his first question, Rick tried again. “Mrs. Short, how long have you worked here at S & T Distributing Company?”

“Ever since it’s been here. I was the first person hired,” she said with pride.

“Well then, you’ve seen the company grow over the years.”

She went from teary eyes and sniffles to a sure tone and smile. “Yeah, we started out with a couple of box cars a week. Now we sometimes have three a day.”

“That’s amazing. What’s the major product your company ships from here?” This was it. Rick was about to get the big scoop he sought.

Marie’s face went from a smile to a deep frown as fast as flipping a light switch off. She nodded to Joey as she spoke to Rick. “You’re a nice young man, Mr. Barnes, but I think you’d better leave now.”

Joey stepped forward before the words were out of her mouth. He reached down and pulled Rick from the couch effortlessly and held onto Rick’s arm as he escorted him to the front door. “You have a good day, Mr. Barnes, and don’t come back,” he said through tight lips.

After being all but tossed out, the door slammed shut behind Rick.

Candi wasn’t back to the car yet. Rick shook his arm to get the feeling back from Joey’s crushing grip. He turned his attention toward the end of the building and looked at the woods across the tracks from the warehouse. Curious about what was around back of the building, he headed in that direction.

Ronnie and Joey came around the corner of the warehouse with Candi in tow.

“You people are lucky I didn’t call the cops,” Ronnie shouted. “I don’t know why you reporters are snooping around on private property, but don’t let us catch you here again, you understand? Now get out of here and don’t come back.”

They shoved Candi toward Rick and stood with their arms folded like a couple of bouncers, waiting for the couple to leave the property.

Candi twisted away from Rick’s grasp that saved her from falling onto the muddy gravel parking lot. She shouted back at the two bullies, “Hey, you bastards, give my film back!”

“Oh, you mean this?” Ronnie teased, holding the end of the roll of film. He tossed the canister at Candi exposing, the film as it played out of the canister.

Candi caught the empty container and threw it at them. “You assholes haven’t heard the last of this, I promise.”

Rick grabbed her arm and half-dragged her to the car. “Come on, let’s get out of here before they call the cops. Are you okay, did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” she said as they climbed into the car.

Rick backed the car out slowly at first then sent a cascade of muddy water over the parked cars on their way out of the parking lot. He didn’t let up on the gas or take his eyes off the rearview mirror until they were back on I-40.

“What happened back there?” he asked.

“What the hell do you think happened? They saw me tramping around in knee-deep slush in the edge of the woods taking pictures of them loading a couple of boxcars. That big redneck came after me and dragged me to the loading dock.”

“That would be Ronnie,” Rick said.

“Then that big Italian guy grabbed my camera and took the film out. They didn’t bother to ask me what I was doing there. They just grabbed me and brought me out front. You know the rest.” Candi paused to catch her breath. “Actually, I’m not okay! I’ve just ruined a brand new pair of two hundred dollar boots, thank you very much. So, let’s just skip the Marriott and visiting your mom. I’ve had enough fun for one day.”