Hot Storage (5 page)

   “Anyone ever tell you no?”

   “Often,” he chuckled. “Come on, toughie. I’m hungry and I love this movie, one of my all-time favorites. We don’t have to talk.”

   He won. I pushed the play button and ate pizza.

   On the plus side, he did seem to enjoy the movie. When he finished eating, he carried his plate and used napkin to the kitchen. He was even nice enough to offer me another of my own beers.

  When the movie ended I turned off the set, stood and led the way to the front door.

  “Thanks, Miss Montoya,” he said, at the door. “That was fun. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

   “Are you out of your mind, Burke? I don’t know you. I don’t think I want to know you.” I opened the door and stood to the side. “At least I know how you found me, being a cop. Thanks for returning the sweatshirt. Adios.”

   “Oh, come on,” he said. “We got off on the wrong foot. Seriously. I would like to take you to dinner.” Holding up a hand, he added, “or breakfast, and I know how that sounds. That’s not what I meant.”

   “Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, swinging the door open a little more. “I don’t go out.”

   “Well, you do go to the beach once in a while,” he corrected with another grin.

   “Rarely,” I said. “And probably not again. Bad experience at the beach.”

   “Then we have a slight problem, Miss Montoya.”

   “And that would be?”

   “I’m the undercover cop assigned to your facility.”

   I stared at him. “Are you serious?”

   “Yes, ma’am.” At least he tried to look sheepish, although his eyes laughed. “Detective John Kincaid with the Monarch Beach Police Department can verify it for you. Or you can contact one of the other guys on the case. They’re all gonna tell you the same thing. Agent Miller told you I was coming.”

   I closed my eyes, took in a gallon of air and sighed it back out. Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug. I was definitely doing bug time.

   Opening my eyes I saw Burke patiently waiting for me to say something. With yet another sigh, I motioned him out the door.

   “Come in the office tomorrow and I’ll give you a code.”

   “Yes, ma’am,” he smiled. “Thanks again for dinner. I’ll see you in the morning.”

   “You paid for dinner,” I countered.

   I shut the door behind him and clicked the dead bolt as loudly as possible. I was pretty sure I heard him laugh as he went down the stairs.

   Sundays are usually slow, unless it’s the tenth. A good day to set up Burke. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this whole situation. His story sounded plausible although his methods left a lot to be desired. A whole lot.

   Being smarter than the average bear, I called Agent Miller and verified Burke’s story the first thing in the morning. He told the truth. Unless I filed a formal complaint, I was working with Declan Burke. My second call was to Steve, giving him an impromptu day off. If Burke was going to be incognito the fewer involved the better. Especially since Steve loved to talk.

   Burke was waiting when I went downstairs. He climbed down from a big, shiny black pickup while I opened the office.

   Today he was wearing the uniform – local that is – of sweat shirt, jeans and sneakers. Unless it’s hot, then it’s a tee shirt and cargo shorts. Both require sneakers. He fit right in, could easily pass for a surfer or a fisherman. At least he wouldn’t stick out like a neon sign flashing “COP”.

   I had him fill out an application like any other applicant while I made a pot of coffee. When it was ready I carried two cups out, setting one next to him on the counter. I went around and took my place at the computer.

   “What should I fill in for employment history?” He pulled his coffee over and took a sip. “You want the truth or a polite lie?”

   “With you, Burke, who knows the difference? I don’t care what you put down.”

   “Are you going to be like that? Come on, lady, I’m trying here. I’ve explained, I’ve apologized and I’m trying to make this work.”

   With a sigh I leaned forward and looked at his application.

   “This is fine,” I said. “This is your code for access to the property,” I added, handing him a slip of paper. “The gates are open from seven to seven for the regular customers, closed on all holidays. Your code is twenty four hours, so you can come in when you want. The only thing I ask is that you park out of sight if you’re in after hours. I don’t want to have to explain to the other customers. My official story is that you’re the maintenance guy. The hired help. Most facilities hire couples so it’s pretty common to have two people around.”

   He slid the little pink paper over, the one I had written his code on, looked at it for a couple of heartbeats. He reached up and took one of our business cards. He stuck the code on the back of the card before bringing out his wallet.

   “No,” I said.

   He looked up at me. “What?”

   “Don’t put the code on my business card. You drop the card or lose it somewhere and you’re giving someone twenty four hour access. Memorize it, or put it in your phone as a contact ID.”

   He pulled the code slip off the card and stuck it in his wallet, returning the business card to the holder on the counter. “Good point,” he said. “Do you think that could have happened? That someone found a code to get them in?”

   “It’s possible,” I said. “No matter how many times I explain it, people don’t get it. They write ‘storage code’ on a slip and stick it to the dashboard of their car where anyone can see it. They put it on the refrigerator where all their friends can get it. All kinds of silly things. I literally picked up one of our cards in the parking lot at the grocery store and found a code written on the back, like you were going to do.”

   “What did you do?” he asked, leaning back and finishing his coffee.

   “Shot him,” I said, with a straight face.

   He choked on his coffee and sprayed it down his shirt and across the counter. I slid his application out of the way and handed him the box of tissues I keep under the desk.

   “I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said when he could. “Point taken, although the idea of you with a gun is scary enough.”

   “You might be surprised, Burke,” I smiled.

   He met my look. “Now what?”

   “Now I show you around,” I answered, standing up. “These are your keys. Please don’t lay them down somewhere and forget them.” Indicating the different colored rubber rings on the tops of the keys, I explained. “Red is for the overlocks, yellow is for company units, where most of the tools are kept. Blue is for the garage, where we keep the golf cart. The key to the cart is left in it, just remember to turn it off.”

   “What if someone steals the cart?”

   “Then you chase them. You can probably catch them on foot. It’s not that fast.”

   “Yes, ma’am.”

   “The other thing you need to know is the owners. They do come in from time to time. Mrs. Murphy has a couple of units here and her son has one of his own.”

   “Which son?”

   I looked at Burke. “You know the sons?”

   “I know most of the family. Paul and I went to school together.”

   “Then you’d recognize them if you run into them.”

   “Oh, yeah.”

   “How do we play that? Do they know you’re a cop?”

   He thought about it a minute. “Not positive but I don’t think so. Haven’t seen much of them the last few years. I’ve run into Paul a couple of times at the Gem but it was just a brief hello.”

   “Then it’s up to you how to handle it,” I said. “I report directly to Paul, indirectly to Mr. Murphy. I had to notify them of the undercover business, have them okay it. It is their business.”

   “Understandable. I think we’ll be okay. What about Trick? Does he come in?”

   I looked at him. “Who?”

   “Trick. The younger son.”

   “Patrick?”

   “Yeah,” he said. “They always called him Trick. He had quite a way of dodging the ladies.”

   “I haven’t met him. I’ve seen him on the cameras, helping his mom unload stuff. He’s never introduced himself. Do you have a problem with him?”

   “Nope. Doubt he’ll remember me. He was a couple of years behind us, me and Paul. And we weren’t that close. Played football, baseball, tennis, that stuff.”

   “School jocks?”

   He chuckled. “You could say that. Mostly we competed. In everything.”

   “Academics?”

   “Well, no, that was one area we left alone.”

   “As long as you know they can squelch this deal at any time. They have the right. I explained that to the DEA guy.”

   “Understood.”

   “Come on, let’s go see the lot.”

   We spent an hour or so around the lot. I pointed out the company units where we stored ladders, hoses, garden tools, all the larger tools in one, another which held trash bags, light bulbs, sprayers and the other small tools. Burke asked a few questions and those he did ask were intelligent and to the point.

   Being honest and observant I had to admit Declan Burke was a very good – looking man and he appeared to be very fit. Wide shoulders, heavy chest and solid thighs. My guess would have been linebacker. If I had to guess. At least I wasn’t going to have to worry about him not being in shape for the physical side of the lot, pretty sure he could manage a ladder and a broom without mishap.

   I introduced him to the few customers in the lot when we were touring. He handled himself perfectly with just the right humility and graciousness, even joked with Randy, our resident spy.

   Back in the office I took my seat behind the counter and checked the phone for any messages. Burke leaned on the counter.

   “Anything else? Have I completed my training?”

   “Looks like,” I said. “If you need anything we don’t have make me a list and I’ll pick it up at the hardware store. We keep an open account at Greg’s Hardware over in Monarch.”

   “Got it,” he said. “Now am I through?”

   “Far as I’m concerned,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

   “How about dinner tonight?”

   I shook my head. “Sorry, not a good practice to hang out with the help.”

   He grinned at me. “We’ll see,” he said, before turning for the front door.

   “When are you going to start,” I called to his back.

   “One day this week. Watch your cameras, you’ll see me. Hard at work.”

   “Take care, then, “I said as he went out the front door.

   He turned and shot me with finger and thumb. “You too, babe. See you soon.”

   I watched him go, heard him slam the door of his truck and then heard the engine kick over. This was going to be interesting.

   I have to admit the guy worked his buns off over the next week. He was there when I came down to open the office on Monday morning, already at work in the back lot.

   He had been sweeping for a while, to judge from the piles of sand and gravel lining the main corridor. Checking the cameras I saw several trash bags lined up along the first two buildings. He must have gotten an early start.

   During the week he was in and out for several days - sweeping, bagging the trash, cleaning the driveways and along the fences. He would work for hours, disappear for a while, and come back before closing.

   He went through the office several times a day, using the inside door to access the garage and the golf cart. Always a ready smile and some kind of innuendo on his way past the counter. A few times he came in for coffee in the morning, usually taking it with him.

   I checked the cameras at night but never saw him. If he was out there he was excellent at avoiding the cameras.

   It was entertaining to watch him work. I noticed when it got hot in the afternoons he pulled off the sweatshirt, exposing a tee shirt tight across a broad chest, tight belly and narrow waist.

   I wasn’t the only one that noticed.

   By Friday there was a marked increase in the female customer’s visits during the late afternoon hours. Two in particular were in on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. One of them brought him something on a covered plate and spent twenty minutes yakking at him.

   Yes, I timed it.

   She yapped while he leaned on his broom with one hand and balanced the plate with the other.

   I watched on the camera, a technological peeping tom, wondering if he needed help. I was just about ready to go out and interrupt when she gave a little wave and sashayed back to her car. She wiggled like a plump pup all the way to her car. Excellent camera system. I could see her butt jiggle with every step.

   By Friday I was glad to see the week end. Burke had finished sweeping the whole lot and cleaned along the fences, where plastic bags and trash tend to collect. I had moments of guilt watching him work while I sat in the office. They passed quickly. He had the system down pat, knew what he was doing.

   Closing time finally arrived and I headed upstairs as soon as I closed the office. I went straight through to the bathroom and took a long shower. When I was finished I combed through my hair and left it loose. Pulling on some sweats I padded barefoot into the kitchen and put on the water for tea.