Unspoken (7 page)

C
harlotte’s store now had a radio so Bryce could listen to the sports news or a game while he worked. His staff didn’t yet know this store next to theirs held the estate coins. He simply arrived at Bishop Chicago each morning with another box of coins to hand off to Devon. Part of the reason he hadn’t told them was the fact it wasn’t his property, and Charlotte deserved the extra security that the privacy would bring. Part of it was the fact he simply enjoyed being able to work in a shop where staff weren’t feeling like the boss was in the showroom observing their work.

Bryce heard the back security door chime. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and closed the display case out of habit, flipping the lock that sealed the glass and activated the internal security beam. “Charlotte?”

“Yes.” She came in sandwiched between two dogs.

He crossed the room to take the large box she carried.

“Your sister who does movies, would she be interested in old movie stuff?”

“Probably.”

“Then this box is for her. Turns out Fred, or someone in his family, was around when they went from making silent films to
talking ones, and liked going to the movies. There are a couple of autographed movie posters in there that might look nice framed and a bunch of movie premiere artwork and photos. If I try to sell it, I’m just going to get hassled for where I got it and do I have more. I’d rather just pass it on.”

“She’ll appreciate it. Thanks.”

“That’s my excuse for stopping by. I see empty display cases. You’re making progress?”

“The last two weeks have been enjoyable and productive. We’re about halfway through grading group two.”

“I gather from that pleased expression they are proving to be easy coins to sell.”

“We had our first bidding war break out yesterday over an 1850 Charlotte five—Charlotte being the place where it was minted.”

“Got that reference. There are coin guides burning into my tired brain at night to go along with the antique and collectibles guides.”

“I know buying and selling are always different sides of the ledger, but I promise to be fair if you need an informed opinion on a coin.”

“I always figured you would be.” Charlotte leaned against the display case, her hand on the glass. Bryce winced, and she smiled when she saw the direction of his gaze. She rubbed at the print with her sleeve and mostly wiped it off. “You are instinctively a shopkeeper—I do admire that.”

“Only an uncle for a boss can make you appreciate fingerprint-free glass. My first job in this business was cleaning windows and the glass display cases.”

“I shall try to remember and be kinder about where I leave prints.” She studied him. “You asked how many more coins I have to sell.”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you come and see.” She pulled over a piece of paper and started to draw a map.

He put his hand over hers. “Why don’t I just ride along?”

She looked over at him. “Afraid I’ll change my mind?”

“Yes.”

She laughed and pointed. “I’ve got the dogs.”

“And I’m guessing not your truck if you brought them both with you.”

“The dogs get a yearly visit with the vet who owns their mother. I borrowed John’s SUV.”

“Good. The dogs can share the back seat.”

“It’s close to a five-hour drive. Route 90 to 39 north, past Stevens Point.”

“Figured that.” He smiled at her confusion. “You threw the chum. I bit. I’d like to see the coins enough I looked up where you might have them stored.”

“How do you feel about being the driver?”

“Much better than being the passenger.”

She handed him her keys. “I could use the drive time to get some work done.”

“Hey, our first compromise. We should practice and get good at it.” At her smile, he pocketed her keys. “Give me ten minutes to tell my staff I’ll be gone for the day.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “How are you going to get home?”

“I’ll rent a car. That’s going to be a minor part of this trip, Charlotte. Back in a bit. Remind me to get the sunglasses case out of my car.”

Bryce checked the rearview mirror and moved over to the left lane to pass a construction van. Whatever he had been expecting from this trip, reality had turned out better. It was a quiet,
pleasant, peaceful drive. He hadn’t heard more than twenty words from Charlotte, and they had been on the road over three hours now. The dogs were sound asleep in the back after a short stop to let them run.

She had been serious about using the time to get some work done. She’d hauled a briefcase into the front seat with her and used the surface as a desk. She had systematically worked her way through a deep pile of paperwork, writing replies in the margins of pages, signing others, and most of the time simply checking the corner of the page before setting it aside.

She’d started writing letters when they reached the second hour on the road. He glanced over. The stack of envelopes, stamped, ready to mail, was growing. She had her checkbook out now. Food pantries, animal shelters. She was writing out checks to nonprofits. From the list she was working from, a lot of checks.

She caught his look. “Have you ever been hungry, Bryce?”

“Not like you’re implying.”

“I have. I’m going to get to every food pantry in the country before I’m done, and several overseas for good measure.”

“It sounds like a nice way to use some of his cash.”

“Better than keeping more of it than my sister and I need.”

She licked an envelope, sealed it, added it to the stack. “Where would you give some money away if you had extra?”

She asked it as a serious question, and he took his time before he replied. “My church, because I know the budget and the fact the money is spent carefully. Organizations like World Vision and Samaritan’s Purse. They can stretch the impact of the dollars given by partnering with companies donating goods. Some of the micro-loan programs that work with individuals directly can use a few hundred dollars to expand a business that will help support a family.”

“Give me a list.”

He glanced over at her.

“I’d like to give some of his money to churches and religious charities, but I don’t know how to evaluate who does a good job and who doesn’t. So do me a favor and help me out. Give me a list.”

“Okay, I could do that. How much?”

She thought about it, then shook her head. “No. I’m not going to tell you how much. I’d like you to give me one piece of paper, your best ideas and the amounts you would give. If I can give to everything on your list, I will. Otherwise I’ll ask you to prioritize and scale back what is on the page until it fits what I want to give.”

“You might be surprised at the list.”

“Probably not. I bet you’re as cautious with my money as you are with your own.”

“I like to give.”

“Really?”

“I am cautious about spending money, but giving it away? I figure God gives it back again eventually. Either in more cash or simply in things that don’t go wrong in life that would have needed that cash. I give, God makes life work out. That seems like a fair deal to me.”

“Ever tested that?”

“Every time I put a gift in the offering plate.” He glanced over at her. “Generosity is a good thing. So is grace like you offered to your brother-in-law.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m nice, Bishop. If I could buy my sister out of her troubles I would spend the money in a heartbeat. The problem with gambling—money is the problem, not the solution. I’m sure Tabitha’s right, and I just made matters worse.”

“You did it with good intentions.”

“I’ve done a lot of things with good intentions and most have badly messed up my own life.”

The interstate sign for upcoming exits listed Lincoln, Madison, Route 4, Graham Enterprises. It was Bryce’s first clue something bigger than he had pictured was up ahead. Semitrucks began to pass him on the right, and one came in behind him, filling his rearview mirror. “Charlotte.”

He looked over to make sure she was awake. She’d stopped working after the last stop and closed her eyes. “I want Exit 9?”

She sat up, looked around. “Yes.”

He took the exit and in the rearview mirror counted five semis with turn signals blinking, slowing for the same exit.

A fifteen-foot-high fence paralleled the four-lane road. All Bryce could see on the other side of the fence were rolling man-made berms with neatly mowed grass. The posted speed limit was twenty-five mph, and he understood why as the road widened from four lanes to eight. They had arrived at Graham Enterprises’ main gate. Semis were slow-rolling through the entrance lanes, and two were on their way out.

“Stay in the left lane going north,” Charlotte said, pointing. “We’ll use Gate C and bypass the truck traffic.”

Bishop nodded and followed the van making the same choice. He kept his speed down, expecting to see Gate C coming up ahead, but there was only more high fence paralleling the road. Charlotte opened her briefcase, pulled out her planner. Bryce began to see the occasional warehouse on his right when the berms were low enough.

Five miles on the road going north and Charlotte was still flipping pages and occasionally marking items off. “This is a big place,” he mentioned.

She smiled but didn’t look up. “
Huge
is the word you’re looking for.”

“This is all Graham Enterprises?”

She slipped the pen into the cover of the planner. “My grandfather’s family acquired the military base when it closed back in the fifties and doubled the footprint of Graham Enterprises. We don’t use all the land for warehouses.”

“I’m relieved to hear it,” he said dryly.

She laughed and pointed. “Gate C is coming up on your right. Follow the rock drive past the parking lot for the company’s sales office, and pull up to the gate. Security will recognize the vehicle.”

He made the turn. The security guard lifted a hand in greeting, then raised the gate to let them enter.

“We’ll stay on this road for about two miles and go to the admin building.”

The road took them toward what he thought might be the center of Graham Enterprises. Warehouses began to materialize on both sides of the road. Cross lanes were busy with trucks, and he realized there were two kinds of roads—those designed for cars, and wider, deeper roads designed for the heavy weight of loaded trucks.

“These warehouses are leased to companies needing overflow space. The next section is our own storage and distribution. Graham Enterprises buys in bulk and ships in smaller quantities, mostly dry goods, paper products. Beyond that is long-term storage, and the rest is Graham family land. All of Shadow Lake is on our property. There’s good fishing this year. Guys have been pulling out nice-size bass, bluegill, and the river feeding the lake has yielded some good-size catfish.”

Charlotte reached back and ruffled the fur of the dog closest to her. They both were awake now and moving about, occasionally whining softly, no doubt recognizing home. “That warehouse with the green horizontal stripe—that’s the freezer. Costs a small fortune to cool it, and we charge accordingly, but it’s nearly always full. It’s the newest building on the property.

“We’re a countercyclical business. When the economy is good, nearly all our space gets leased out by other companies, and we essentially become security and not much else. When the economy softens, the warehouses empty out, and we go on buying sprees picking up liquidating inventory, equipment in bankruptcy sales, anything tough to store that is selling for pennies on the dollar. We store it away until the economy begins to recover, and we can then sell it back into the market for multiples of what we paid. We’re only about half full at the moment, which tells me the economy is beginning to soften, but there hasn’t been much merchandise up for sale at prices we like yet.”

She pointed ahead on the left. “You’ll want the blue building.”

Bryce parked in the lot on the south side of the admin building. The nearly empty parking lot had three cars, one of which was Charlotte’s truck. He glanced at the time. 3:17 p.m. Right at a five-hour drive with the three stops.

Charlotte let the dogs out, and they stretched, then loped together across the mowed grass and rolled for the pleasure of it. “So much for the good brushing.” She tossed their trash from lunch into a barrel near a picnic table.