Disillusioned, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 2

  Chapter 23

   

  The next day, Stan skipped another day of classes and drove two hours to Tyler, Texas where Summit Leasing supposedly did business. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do there, but he wanted to check it out to see if it really existed or if it was just a sham. When he arrived at the address, he was amazed to see a thriving business with a retail outlet out front and a huge warehouse in the back. He started to go in the retail outlet to check it out when he saw a Peakload Personnel truck drive up and let off some temporary workers. Stan was familiar with Peakload, as he’d had to resort to day labor when he first came back after being discharged from the Marines Corps. He noted the address on the side of the truck and then consulted his map to see how to get there.

  When he got to Peakload, he went inside and filled out an application for a job. Then he went up to the dispatcher and handed it to him.

  “You got any work today?”

  “Got some work at a battery acid factory, a lumber yard, and Summit Leasing needs warehousemen and clerks.”

  Stan smiled. “I can do either. I type eighty words a minute, and I’ve done inventory at a hardware store back in California.”

  “Alright then. You can take the next van to Summit. They only pay minimum wage.”

  Stan nodded and took a seat to wait. A few minutes later, he was summoned to a departing van. When they got to Summit Leasing, he was let off near the loading dock. A red-faced man in a flannel shirt asked for his paperwork, so Stan handed it to him.

  “You type eighty words a minute?” the man questioned.

  “On a good day,” Stan said confidently. “One of the few things I did right in high school—took typing.”

  “Yeah, I wish I’d have done that. I wouldn’t be stuck out here in the warehouse. Go ahead in and report to Blanche in Receivables.”

  “Okay,” Stan replied and went off in the direction the man pointed.

  After wandering around a while and memorizing the layout of the offices, Stan walked through a door marked ACCOUNTING and looked around. A sign hung from the ceiling off to the left that read ACCOUNTS RECEIVABLE. Stan noticed a blonde-headed lady with a clipboard barking orders to a woman who didn’t look too happy. He figured that was Blanche and walked over to her.

  “Hi. I’m here from Peakload.”

  “A man! They sent a man?”

  Stan looked around self-consciously. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

  “I’ve never seen a man who could type eighty words a minute,” she explained.

  “Well, prepare to be dazzled,” Stan said flirtatiously.

  She smiled “Hmm. Okay, take that cubicle, and I better be impressed.”

  Stan took a seat in front of the typewriter and soon had piles of work dropped in the bin next to him. He looked through the stack and saw he was to complete several leases. While he was typing in the blanks with the names of the lessees, he scanned the terms and conditions and noted each company name on the back of an envelope. When he was done with the leases, he started working on invoices and was astounded at the high lease payments being charged each customer. Later, when he was asked to work on an accounts receivable aging report, he was shocked to see there were hardly any past-due accounts.

  When it came time for lunch, Blanche offered to take him to the lunch room. He accepted with alacrity, and they went off like they were best friends. At lunch, Stan did what he did best—listen.

  “I’m sorry they only pay minimum wage here. I know you’re probably worth ten dollars an hour.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m just a little short this month, so I thought I’d work a few days to help make ends meet.”

  “I know what you mean. The owners of this place are so tight. They should be paying me twice what I’m getting, and we don’t even have group insurance.”

  “Huh? That’s surprising with business booming the way it is. You’d think they’d treat their employees better.”

  She nodded and rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen such a low rate of delinquent accounts,” Stan observed. “The economy isn’t exactly booming right now.”

  “Yeah, well they sell primarily to affiliated companies, so paying family is a first priority.”

  “Who owns the company? Do you know?”

  “Yeah. Some hotshot from Mexico.”

  “Have you ever met him?”

  “No,” she chuckled. “He doesn’t’ even know I exist. He comes around once a week to collect his profits and confer with the manager and then takes off.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Hell, I don’t know—Carlos something. Nobody ever talks about him. At staff meetings, it’s all about efficient operations and keeping the employees in line.”

  “Hmm. Glad I’m not working here full time.”

  “Yeah, if I could find something better, I’d quit.”

  “So, when does Carlos come around?”

  “Thursdays, usually. He comes in about ten and leaves in the early afternoon.”

  “So he’s here now?” Stan asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him yet, but he may be in with the manager.”

  “How fast do you type, Blanche?” Stan teased.

   Blanche smiled wryly. “Typing isn’t required for my job.”

  On the way back to the A/R Department Stan went by the manager’s office. There was a drinking fountain nearby, so Stan lingered there a while. After a few minutes, a short, dark-haired man walked out, followed by Carlos Morales. They gave Stan a hard look as they walked by and then disappeared around the corner. Stan went to the office door, but it was locked, so he turned around and followed the manager and Carlos. They were standing outside talking, so Stan took up a position nearby where he could hear their conversation but was out of their sight.

  “If any police or federal agents come by, don’t talk to them. Call me immediately.”

  “Of course. Are you going to Longview now?”

  “No, not until tomorrow. I’ve got a luncheon appointment with the Mayor, and then we’re going to play a round of golf. You know, in America it pays to have friends in high places.”

  The manager nodded in agreement, and then Carlos strolled out to his car. The manager waved and then turned and walked quickly back inside. Stan pretended to just be walking by and smiled.

  “Who are you?” the manager demanded.

  Stan stopped and gave him a bewildered look. “Uh, just a temp in Accounting.”

  Blanche suddenly appeared and walked up to them. “There you are. Did you get lost?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m sorry. This place is a maze.”

  The manager’s eyes narrowed.

  “Come on,” Blanche said. “I’ll guide you back.”

  “Thanks,” Stan replied gratefully.

  After they were away from the manager, Blanche asked, “What are you doing here?”

  Stan gave her a blank look. “What do you mean? I’m trying to pick up a few bucks.”

  “Bullshit. You’re way overqualified for this job, and I doubt you need the pittance this job pays. What is it you are really after?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to blow your cover,” Blanche said. “I’m just curious.”

  Stan cleared his throat and looked around. “Well, in a few days you’ll probably know why I was here. In the meantime, you should look for a new job.”

  A knowing smile came over Blanche’s face. “Okay. So I was right.”

  Stan shrugged and went back to his cubicle. When the shift was over, Stan caught the first Peakload van back, collected his day’s wage, and then searched for a payphone. When he found one at a gas station, he called Agent Rutledge, collect.

  “Hi, Stan. Haven’t heard from you in a while. What are you doing in Tyler?”

  “Just a little temp work at Summit Leasing.”

  “Summit Leasing?”

  “Right. It’s quite a place. It’s operated by a
guy named Carlos Morales. You know him?”

  “Don’t be a wise-ass. How do you know Carlos Morales operates it?”

  “Well, I just saw him there and I’ve been told he comes every Thursday to check on things.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “At a payphone. I just left there.”

  “I see. So, where is Morales right now?”

  “Having lunch with the Mayor, and then they’re going to the country club for a bit of golf.”

  “Okay, but we have one problem.”

  Stan’s heart sank. “What’s that?”

  “We don’t have enough on Morales or Rubio to convict them yet. We can arrest him but the U.S. Attorney is not ready to prosecute him.”

  “Damn it! I thought with Melissa and the three Mexicans in custody that would be enough to take down the cartel.”

  “No. Melissa will testify that Brad knew Rubio in college, but its all hearsay. It’s not enough to tie him to the Silver Springs Ventures. We need Brad Thornton, but, as you know, he’s dead.”

  “So, you’re just going to let him skate?”

  “Well, has your cover been blown?”

  “Ah. Well my supervisor knows I’m up to something but she’s friendly. She hates Morales.”

  “Then since you’ve gone out on a limb already, can you stay on the job a few days and gather evidence. With the right evidence and you and your supervisor’s testimony that would probably be enough to convince the U.S. Attorney to go forward with the indictments.”

  Stan took a deep breath. “I don’t know. The manager is already a little suspicious of me and I’d hate to get Blanche killed.”

  “Well, you found Morales and identified another money laundering operation. That’s not too shabby. I don’t blame you for quitting while you’re ahead. It’s the sensible thing to do. I’ll call our Tyler office and get a tail put on Morales. Maybe he’ll lead us to Rubio and we can keep an eye on both of them. At least we know where he is now, that’s something.”

  Stan shook his head. “No. Don’t do that. I’ll do it. We can’t let him get away with this.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Rebekah may divorce me, but at least there will be one less drug cartel in operation.”

  “Good. I’ll get a team put together and we can all meet tonight and plan the operation.”

  “Okay. I’ll be at the Best Western Motel. Call me.”

  “I will. And thank you, Stan. We’ve been trying to bring the Burilo Cartel down for years. With your help maybe we can finally do it.”

  Stan hung up the phone and immediately began to worry. How was he was going to break the news to Rebekah. She was going to be livid if he didn’t come home tonight? How was he going to handle Blanche? Was she trustworthy enough to tell her what was coming down? Nothing came to him immediately except a splitting headache, so he decided to take a shower. Sometimes a steady stream of hot water relaxed him and cleared his mind.

  After thirty minutes in the shower he felt a lot better and mustered up enough courage to call Rebekah. He decided to go with the truth rather than try to concoct a lie. Rebekah would be mad but she’d be even more upset if she thought he was lying to her. He dialed the number.

  “Stan, where are you?”

  “Still in Tyler.”

  “You said you’d be back for dinner.”

  “Something came up. I spotted Carlos Morales and the feds want me to help gather a little more evidence before they arrest him.”

  “No! You promised me you wouldn’t put yourself in danger.”

  “I know and I won’t be in danger. Morales has no idea who I am. I stared him right in the face and he didn’t recognize me. He was probably in Mexico when I was in all the papers and on the TV news.”

  “Yes, but one of his men may have been in town. If one of them spots you they’ll drag you off again and kill you.”

  “The FBI will be all over the place. They will protect me.”

  “You’ve got an election in a few days. Don’t you have last minute things that have to be done?”

  “Sure, but someone else can do them. This is more important.”

  “Of course. Whatever you’re doing is always more important than us!”

  The phone went dead. Stan slammed down the receiver and began pacing back and forth. He thought about calling Agent Rutlege and backing out of the operation, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He picked up the telephone and dialed Kristina’s number.

  “Hello.”

  “Kristina. This is Stan.”

  “Oh. Hi Stan. How are you?”

  “Fine. I just wanted to let you know I’m going to be out of pocket for a day or two so If you can’t find me don’t be alarmed.”

  “But it’s so close to the election.”

  “I know. But I’ve done everything I can to make sure you are elected. It’s really up to you and the voters now.”

  Kristina sighed. “Right. So, what are you up to now?”

  “I can’t say but if I’m successful it could be a positive for your campaign.”

  “You’re not doing something dangerous again, are you?”

  Stan didn’t respond.

  “Stan, what am I going to do with you? Let the cops and the FBI deal with the cartel. They’re trained for it.”

  “I’m just helping them out. I’ll be fine.”

  “So, your working with them. They’ll have your back?”

  “Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  “Right,” she said tears welling in her eyes.

  “I don’t know how Rebekah does it. I’m a nervous wreck and I’m not even married to you. Remind me not to marry a soldier, a cop or a suicidal attorney.”

  Stan laughed. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Well, be safe. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I won’t. I know you’re going to win. You’ve got charisma. . . . You’re irresistible.”

  “Huh. Except to you?”

  Stan didn’t respond.

  “Goodnight, Stan.”

  “Bye.”

  Stan hung up the phone wishing Kristina were there with him. He wanted to hold her tight and feel her body against his, to stroke her hair and feel her lips on his. She was irresistible. How had he managed to keep his distance? When he was with her it was like trying to stand up in a hurricane. He so much wanted to let go and be consumed by her. But somehow he stayed upright and kept his distance, not by conscious reason but driven by something deep down within himself that he couldn’t begin to fathom.