Authors: Maddie Cochere
I knew in my heart
thi
s was the man
I had seen outside the hotel door by the dumpsters. It had to be. Carl had even referred to him as a janitor.
“I’m sorry to hear that
,”
dad was saying
as I finished reading the article
. “Hopefully, you’ll still be
able to get some work done
, but the atmosphere will probably be s
omber
today
.”
I
hated the sick feeling
in the pit of my stomach. I no longer had an appetite to finish my breakfast. I stood up, grabbed my briefcase, gave Dad a kiss on the cheek, and headed for the front door. The car would likely be waiting for me already.
As I neared the front desk, I ducked into the restroom. I wanted to double-check my makeup and take a minute to compose myself. I couldn’t stop my mind from racing. There wasn’t any reason to tie a Slimmers janitor in the desert to the hotel, so I could only hope
the police
wouldn’t have any reason to talk
with
me. My face was pale. I touched it up with a little blush, and reapplie
d my lipstick. My hair was
the way I liked it, simple but with a soft, slightly full look.
Betsy Ann had told me
suits weren’t necessary in the office and
business casual
attire would be fine.
I had chosen to wear a
short sleeve, black wool dress. It had a low, square neckline
showing
a hint of cleavage, and t
he length was to the top of the knee. It was beautifully sewn and created a lovely, lean, fitted silhouette. It was actually quite sexy without being
revealing. I slipped into
a soft, black cardigan for the ride over to the offices. Pleased with my look, and feeling more in control of my emotions, I headed out the front door and into the waiting car.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Gregory, take Susan to her office so she knows where she’ll be working. You can then take her on a tour of the main floor. She’ll be with me upstairs after lunch.”
Betsy Ann looked at her watch, reached out to touch me
on the arm, and said, “It’s
good to see you again, Susan. I know you’ll enjoy being here at Corporate for the rest of the week. I’ll meet you here again at 2:50. A meeting has been scheduled this afternoon at 3:00 with our new Op
erations Manager, Mr. Waltham, and y
ou’ll get to meet most of the executive staff then. Gregory will help you with anything you need.”
Gregory was grinning from ear to ear. He was tall and
l
anky with spiky white hair
which
had a vein of blue running through it in
a
random pattern. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. He was young,
probably
about 2
1
or 2
2
. He was dressed in well-fitted khakis paired with a blue plaid, button-down shirt. Rather than dress shoes, he was wearing
expensive Ektelon shoes
I had only
ever
seen on the racquetball court. Most people wouldn’t wear them for general wear. They stood out because they were black with
bright
red tri
m. My first impression was
he was unique and
personable.
“Thank you, Betsy Ann,” I told her. I turned to Gregory and said cheerfully, “I’m ready when you are.”
“Gregory, you behave with Susan
,
” Betsy Ann said
.
“
She doesn
’t need to know everything
you know.” She shook her finger at him in a scolding ma
nner, but she was smiling
.
“Not to worry, B.A.,” he said with
the
ear-to-ear grin still plastered on his face. He turned to me and said, “This way, Susan. I’ll take you to your office first, so you can put your things down.”
It had only taken about
fifteen
minutes to make the drive from the hotel to the Slimmers Corporate Offices. I was surprised to see such a large structure with two floors. The building was of southwestern adobe style ar
chitecture, and I could see
care had been given to the landscaping. The reception area was large and airy with red, orange, and bright yellow colors popping from abstract art and furnishings. The colors were certainly more exciting than the current mauve and blue of the centers. I hoped these were the new colors
to
be used in the remodeling to come.
Gregory led me down a long hallway to the south end of the building. There were four open offices for guests to use, and I was ushered into a corner office with windows
offering a view of
a lovely rock garden with a waterfall and cold-hardy palm trees.
“You can leave
your briefcase and sweater here,” he said. “
There’s a key in the desk
,
so you can lock your purse in a drawer. Where would
you like to start?
“Can we start in distribution?” I asked as I locked my purse in the desk and slipped the small key into the pocket of my dress. “I’d like to meet some of the people I talk with on the telephone every week.”
“Sure.
Distribution
’s at the back of the building,” he said as we
headed
back down the hallway.
“Gregory, what did Betsy Ann mean when she told you not to tell me everything that you know?”
I asked.
“A
s B.A’s assistant, I get around the building to all of the depar
tments several times a day.” His grin turned mischievous.
“I see and hear a lot. I’m earning a degree in gossip working here.”
I laughed and asked, “Do you ever get into trouble?”
“Nothing serious,” he said. “I try to keep B.A. in the loop if there’s something I think she shoul
d know, but otherwise, I
keep the trivial, personal stuff to myself, or share it with my girlfriend who absolutely loves all the gossip from here.” He was chuckling as though he remembered something fun or juicy.
I didn’t want to ask
anything too personal, so I ignored the girlfriend comment and
changed the subject
by saying
, “You’re wearing Ektelons. Do you play racquetball, or do you just like the shoe?”
“Both,” he said. “The company has a corporate membership to a
health
club, and we’re all encouraged to use it for fitness. Most of the employees use it for working out or swimming, but there’s
about a
dozen people here who play racquetball, and eight of us are in a league on Wednesday nights. Betsy Ann said you played. Are you any good?”
I laughed a little and said, “I do ok.”
“Well, Wednesday night is a free night this week, so she said she was bringing you to the club so we could all play. I want the first game,” he said with a big grin.
“I don’t know if I can play
against
you, Gregory,” I said with a laugh. “You’re so tall, and your arms and legs are so long, I won’t be able to get any shots past you.”
He laughed.
“I think that’s why I’m leading the league right now. I don’t have to
move around the court much at all
. Here we are,” he said as he opened a door into the large warehouse.
As we walked
across the expansive floor
, he pointed out the areas where all of the food products were kept as well as all of the paper supplies to include all of the di
et plans, menus, and forms
we were required to fill out on a regular basis. We walked by t
he large loading bays
bustling with activity. Someone yelled out, “Hey, Susan!” but I only glanced in their direction and kept walking with Gregory. I knew it had to be someone who recognized me from the newspaper or the sports newscast.
On the far side of the warehouse was a large room with a dozen cubicles in the main area and three offices along the wall. We spent at least an hour here talking with all of the distribution employees and managers. For some of them, it was like meeting old friends, and it was nice to be able t
o put faces to the voices I
heard so often. Most of my mental images were way off, bu
t everyone said
I looked
like I sounded. I thoroughly enjoyed the
time spent here, and it
helped tremendously to know how much work was going on behind the scenes. I was already making mental notes of what we, as managers, could do to make things easier for the distribution workers when we called in our orders.
Gregory led me out of distribution through a side door
which
opened outdoors to a large cement pad lined with dumpsters heaped high with cardboard. Across the pad from the dumpsters were
three
picnic tables. Two
warehouse workers
walked out of another side door and sat
down
. Both of them lit cigarettes.
“Do you smoke, Susan?” he asked me.
“No,” I said softly. I was staring at the workers at the picnic table.
“Well, if you did, this is the only place on company property where you can light up. I only come out h
ere when I want to take a short
cut from distribution to the main offices without having to walk back through the entire facility. Come on,” he said as he started to walk toward the
door leading into the offices.
“Are they with the janitorial staff?” I asked while nodding in the direction of the workers.
“Yeah, everyone who works in sanitation wears one of those blue uniforms.
A few people work
during the day, but most of the staff comes in at 3:00 and then works through the evening.”
“Gregory, there hasn’t been anything said today about Gilbert Torres. I thought everyone he
re would be terribly upset
.”
“Oh, wasn’t that horrible? Not only was he beaten, but to be put on the railroad tracks and mangled like that.” He shook his head in disbelief
and, I presumed, sadness. H
e
lightly
grasped
my arm and guided me to the side of the pad to be sure we were out of earshot of
the
two smokers. “But,
Susan, nobody is crying over the
man. I don’t know anyone who liked him, not even a little bit. I don’t
think anyone was surprised
he was murdered, and they might
even think he deserved it.”
I was shocked to hear
his words
, and I know my mouth hung open. “Why?” I asked incredulously. I was obviously being drawn into Gregory’s gossip vortex, but I couldn’t help it. I had to know what he knew about Gilbert Torres. “What could a janitor do to make so many people dislike him?”
“Part of it was his personality,” he said. “He was rude and not friendly like the rest of the staff. B.A. would have let him go a long time ago, but he was with the company from the beginning, so he was kind of grandfathered in. He always did a good job, but from what I heard floating around, he was snoopy and getting into things he shouldn’t have, but nobody ever caught him at anything. Then he was causing problems with the re
st of the janitors. He
started bragging
,
and
said Mr. Waltham
prom
ised him a promotion and a
large bonus at the end of the year. It was something completely unreasonable, like $20,000.” He shook his head again, and said, “Something was going on with Gilbert, but I never did
figure it
out. Don’t be surprised if you don’t hear much about him
today
. I already heard one of the cleaning girls say it was much nicer without him here.”
I was shocked, but nodded in understanding of what he said. The man obviously had a lot people who didn’t like him, and probably some enemies, but why would he have ended up at the hotel, and why would Carl have been there?
Gregory was moving toward the sid
e door and said, “Come on
, let me show you where the lunch room is
,
and then I’ll introduce you to the rest of the office workers and the financial guys.”
We walked through the doorway, and he said in hushed tones, “When you meet Carla, don’t say anything to her about her hair even if you like it. The bright red was supposed to be some kind of brown, and if you mention her hair at all, she’ll break down crying. Ginger isn’t pregnant, so don’t ask her when her baby is due. She has a 12-pound tumor in her abdomen and is going to have surgery next week to remove it, but she looks like she’s ready to give birth any minute. And it’s ok to call Bucky “Bucky,” but don’t ask him if he got the nickname from his buck teeth; he didn’t.” He
gave me a big grin
and said, “I think you’ll be ok with anything else you might say.”