Chapter Twenty
“Much as I hate to bring up business after such a wonderful meal…” Vince’s eyes reinforced his verbal compliment to Rachel. He’d eaten extra salmon with garlic-dill sauce and parsley potatoes.
“Well, don’t yet. I’m still enjoying it.” Mike forked up the last bite of his fresh asparagus. “My ma told us always to clean up our plates.”
“That gets back to my business…sort of.” Vince looked at Caitlin with apology in his eyes. “We’ve located Buddy Stein.”
“Thanks for waiting until we finished eating to tell us.” Rachel set her napkin on her lap.
“Has he confessed to his involvement with this mess?” Excited at Vince’s news, Caitlin moved to the edge of her chair. She looked at Mike and then Vince. “Though I guess with what we learned this afternoon, that’s not likely.”
“Stein’s dead. Shot three times in the back of the head.”
“That sounds like a professional hit.” Mike picked up his spoon and started to twirl it. A worry line bisected his brows.
“We’re assuming that right now,” Vince added.
“Where did you find him?” Caitlin plunked her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her knuckles.
“We didn’t. He was a John Doe. Turned up in a rural area outside of Rhinelander. I sent up a deputy a few days ago when the Sheriff there alerted me to their John Doe. He’d read our bulletin. Stein had been dead about two, two and a half months when he was found.”
“I hate to ask…but how was he found?” Rachel reached toward Vince’s hand. His big hand covered hers.
“Cabin owners found the body in an outbuilding they were opening up for the spring,” Vince answered in monotone.
“You’re sure it’s Stein?” Caitlin thought about what Hank Stokes had told her. Maybe Stein had lost his usefulness to those gambling honchos Stokes mentioned.
“Dental records and a birthmark confirmed his identity. The question I’m wondering is why the hit?”
“That consultant I told you about came to see me this afternoon, Vince. Maybe what he told me would be a reason.” Hoping Mike wouldn’t ask questions or Vince speak when he shouldn’t, she outlined Stokes’ findings and observations. She’d tell Mike about the P.I. later.
“When I fired Stein, he may have lost his usefulness to them…whoever they are.” Caitlin shrugged. Everything going on was so beyond her control and somehow it all appeared connected. If they only knew without a doubt what the connections were.
“But if Stein knew too much…” His voice urgent, Mike looked at Vince. “Maybe I should do a little moving and shaking on both shifts tomorrow. See what I shake out of the trees. What do you think, Vince?”
Caitlin exhaled in relief. Mike’s excitement skipped right over how she had gotten this information.
“I’d go careful on that, Mike. The two incidents may be totally unrelated. What we do know is the prime suspect with a known grudge against Cait is now definitely out of the picture.”
“So what about Kirby? Especially if Cait calls him on the carpet after today’s incident?” Rachel piped up in full guardian angel mode.
“He’s a wimp, a coward. Besides he’s not tall or big enough for the guy who attacked me and he’d keel over in a faint if he smelled like that character did on Saturday night. Plus, I’m rethinking firing him. At least for now,” Caitlin admitted. “Keeping a potential enemy in sight is better than not knowing his whereabouts.”
“Never dismiss wimps, Cait. Not smart business or police work,” Vince cautioned. “But keeping enemies close is a proven age-old theory.”
“Kirby probably hired one of those goons in shipping.” Rachel’s tone suggested her distaste for both. “That’s my opinion, anyway.”
“A good possibility, but which one? And how do we prove it?” Caitlin asked while looking at those around her.
“By keeping an eye on him. That’s the main reason why you should hold off firing Kirby, Cait.” Mike coughed and grabbed his water.
“Great minds think alike, Mike,” Caitlin agreed. “You all right?”
“Yep, I realized after I said it, you might pitch a hissy-fit. Think I was getting all dictatorial on you.”
“Once upon a time, I might have.” She reached for his hand. “And I might some other time, but for now? Well, you get a pass.” She squeezed his hand and he returned the favor. That squeeze said so much more than words.
Vince cleared his throat and ended the moment. “I’ve put a tail on Kirby and gotten a court order for phone taps. When we checked it, his office phone redial memory held your extension number, Caitlin, and we lifted a print. We’re checking to see if it’s Kirby’s or someone else’s. Of course, Kirby might have called you for a legit reason and never used his phone after that.”
“What you mean is you have circumstantial evidence at this point.” She saw the loopholes and realized they had to be tightened. What about using herself as bait? That was worth thinking about for a while.
“For now.” Vince sat back against his chair and draped an arm across the back of Rachel’s chair.
“Well, I am sick and tired of talking about nothing but this. Let’s look on the bright side. I’ve gotten no phone calls tonight.” It didn’t take a love guru to see Rachel and Vince wanted some private time. That idea appealed to her, too. Somehow she didn’t see Mike objecting.
She nudged Mike gently in the ribs. “Mike and I need to go over the new language on our contract amendment. I should also review the report Kirby completed. You don’t mind, do you? If we head for the den?” Caitlin asked, looking directly at Rachel.
Helping her to her feet, Mike followed her lead. “Good idea about that language. I’m not as familiar with it as you and we better be on the same page tomorrow.” He took her hand as they headed toward the stairs, their heads close as they whispered like conspirators.
“You want to talk?” Caitlin heard Rachel ask Vince.
****
When Mike and Caitlin left for work the next morning, brave purple, yellow and white crocuses bloomed amidst the winter dead-brown grass.
“Oh, spring really will be coming,” Caitlin sighed when she spotted them.
“You look relaxed this morning. Less colorful. A good night’s sleep helped.”
“So did no phone calls during the night.”
“That, too.” Mike entered the highway, fighting traffic and the foreboding that nagged at him. “I like that green of your blouse. Makes your eyes dazzle.”
“All the better to mesmerize the other side, I hope.”
“The union team will be so snowed, you’ll get every concession we want before noon, Cait.”
“Won’t happen. The shop workers would scream collusion. We need at least three sessions, the last an all-night marathon. After that everybody will be satisfied with a credible compromise. They’ll feel like we fought hard.”
“You’re joking.” He risked a glance at her. “Right?”
“Nope. If this were full contract negotiations, we’d be at the process for several weeks. Otherwise, the union membership won’t believe any real negotiating has been going on. To be fair, on the management side, some would figure I caved in too easily. Bargaining’s a finely tuned and choreographed process. Plus it requires lots of planning.”
Amazed at the Machiavellian procedures, he shook his head. “That’s why you think I can miss today.”
“Yep. It’s more important you and Dan Hall get this mess in shipping reorganized. I’d suggest moving Bob Krok onto second shift for two weeks. Use Krok’s assistant as his replacement. Tell Krok he can go back to first shift if he wants it after the two weeks. You could tell his assistant he could step into Maze’s position then if he’s ready. There’s no way Maze will be back soon. And no chance I’ll approve reinstatement at his former level.”
“What will Kirby say?”
“He’ll fight it, but what’s his leverage? He doesn’t have any viable alternatives. You’re plant manager and can make those shifts. He offers recommendations if you have no ideas.”
“He’ll probably say I’m too new to know personnel strengths.”
“Probably. That’s why you do this with Dan Hall. I’ve checked all the files and done the background. The moves are good ones. Even Kirby can’t fight it if it comes from you.”
“As I said, you’re one smart lady.”
“You’re one smart guy—because you listen,” she added the last, making it sound almost like a caress. “I appreciate that.”
“We work well together. On another matter, Cait, when will your car be finished?”
“Not till Friday. Would you mind if I use yours today? I figured you could get home with Rachel.”
“Certainly use the car, but I might not be ready to leave with Rachel. When do you think you’ll finish? Late?”
“Not on your life but I should be able to let you know by at noon. My guess is probably three, three-thirty at the latest, we should be finishing up. I could pick you up.”
“Not that I have anything against Rachel, but I prefer that plan” He wriggled his brows and grinned.
She wanted to jump his bones.
“Perhaps we should consider this carpooling venture a permanent one.” He pulled into the parking lot.
“Don’t push your luck, sweetie, even with that sexy grin to soften me up.” She touched the curve of his cheek. “Have a great day.” She opened her door with her free hand.
Mike enclosed the hand on his cheek, brought it to his lips, kissed the soft open palm. “You’ll be in my heart all day.”
“Knowing that will make my day perfect, no matter what happens.” Another car turned into the lot and she withdrew her hand. “Shall we hit it?”
Both their doors slammed in unison. He handed her his keys and watched her scoot into the seat he’d just vacated. “You are one fine woman, Caitlin Donnelly.”
“You’re top shelf, too.”
****
By noon, Caitlin dragged as if she’d put in a full day’s work. Negotiating tired her—tired everyone involved. The ritual included punt and fall back movements. Boring talks by long-winded team members occurred in an effort to look as if the work required a great deal of time. She had so much more important work to do—at least now.
Every now and then she glanced at Tom Jaspers. He wore the same look of concealed boredom, coupled with the frantic expression of a man who wants to get things accomplished and move on.
But the game must be played; Tom and Caitlin played it well.
At noon, she checked in with Mike. He had implemented her suggestions and the shipping department would be back in full operation by the end of the day. Predictably, Kirby had sputtered and muttered under his breath, but offered no other options.
“And, Cait, we just got word. Horace has regained consciousness.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“Right. Vince got a statement from him, but it’s not much help. He said the guy was big and very strong. Horace thinks the drug packets on the floor were scattered there to make us think someone was looking for the real stuff. He’s positive the guy was after something else.”
“Debbie’s records. It has to be. Mike, do you think she’s in danger?”
“Could be. I’ve ordered security to escort her out of the plant and see she’s safely in her car and gone. Until this is settled, I think that’s best. We’ll reverse the process when she comes in to work.”
“Good. Well, we should be finishing up here by three at the latest. I’ll come back to the plant as we planned.”
“I’ll look forward to that. See you soon.” He clicked off.
Hearing the dial tone buzz, she felt lonely. Like someone in quicksand, each day she sank deeper into a relationship with Mike. Did she love him? Or was she feeling scared and not wanting to be alone with that? Her feelings about him were intensifying too fast. That speed made her uncomfortable, unsure of herself and her motives.
She’d known him for a long time. They were both more ready. Weren’t they?
Her team members calling to her broke her reverie.
The afternoon session went as she predicted. By two-forty-five, Tom suggested a day and time to meet next week. “My group needs some time to review these staggered lunch times and who will decide which groups go out together.”
“I can understand that, but management reserves final approval,” Caitlin added, playing the game.
“We might have another glitch with some of this new wording as far as structuring the day.”
Caitlin’s eyes met Tom’s. They understood each other perfectly. “We may have some latitude with that wording.” She and Tom stood up, moved from the table, and spoke brief goodbyes. So did their colleagues.
Ten minutes later both teams had dispersed. From the conversational buzz, each group believed a successful conclusion to negotiations was near. No one was in the mood for the usual post-negotiation rehash at the bar. This whole scenario pleased her. Maybe she and Mike might have a quiet drink before going home.
Before leaving, she stopped in the restroom and freshened her makeup. A quick check with the manager confirmed the same rooms for next week. By that time, Caitlin was the only one of her group still in the area. As she walked from the building, the unusual warmth of the air struck her.
She inhaled deeply—and smelled—evil.
She turned. Too late.
An enormous hand grabbed her face while a strong arm held her fast.
In seconds her breathing lessened from the pressure on her diaphragm. The grimy rag over her nose reeked of some chemical.
Chloroform, she thought as the edges of her consciousness dimmed.