Chapter 12 - The Parking Lot Trade
I found him in the parking lot behind my sister's office just after noon, leaning against a black SUV with his jacket off and his sleeves rolled to the elbow. In daylight without the dining room shadows he looked younger, tired around the eyes. The other one must have stayed inside. He saw me coming and straightened, but he didn't walk away.
It was hot on the blacktop. Heat came up off the cars and the air smelled like exhaust and cut grass from the lot next door. I could hear traffic on the main road and a sprinkler ticking somewhere behind the building. I didn't hurry. I kept my hands where he could see them.
He nodded once. "Sir."
I stopped a few feet from him. "You stood behind me at dinner," I said. "Two nights ago."
"Yes, sir."
I held out my left wrist, the watch still on it. I hadn't taken it off since the urgent care visit. The skin underneath it itched in the heat. "You remember this?"
He glanced at it, then back at my face. "Yes."
That was scene one and done. No denial. I appreciated that.
I leaned against the SUV next to him, not too close. "I'm not here to get you fired," I said. "I just need to know what you were told to do that night."
He looked toward the office door, then back at the lot. "We're told not to discuss assignments."
"I know," I said. "I'm asking as the guy you were assigned to. Not as her brother."
He didn't answer right away. A car pulled in two rows over and a woman got out with a lunch bag. She didn't look at us.
I tried a different way. "You work long shifts for her," I said. "Standing in dining rooms, parking lots. I used to do door work myself years ago. I know what it's like when nobody tells you why."
That softened something. He exhaled through his nose. "It's steady work."
"I bet. I can put in a word for more hours if you want them. Or if you'd rather not work dinners anymore, I can make that happen too. No paperwork. Just me talking to her." I kept my voice even. "A trade. Information for a favor. No threats."
He studied me for a long moment. The sprinkler kept ticking. Sweat ran down the side of his face and he wiped it with his forearm.
"What do you want to know?" he said.
"That night. Were you watching the room, or were you watching me?"
He hesitated. "We were told to keep an eye on the table."
"On my hands? On my wrist?"
Another pause. Then he nodded toward my watch. "We were told to make sure that stayed on."
My chest tightened, but I kept still. "Exact words, if you can remember them."
He frowned, thinking. "She said keep it on and snug. If he takes it off, let me know. Don't make a scene."
She. He didn't have to say her name.
"When did she tell you that?" I asked.
"Before you sat down. In the hallway by the kitchen. She pulled me aside."
I looked down at the watch. The leather was dark with sweat at the edges. In daylight the buckle hole I was using looked stretched, like it had been forced one notch tighter than the leather wanted.
"Did she say why?" I asked. "Medical reason? Safety? Anything?"
He shook his head quickly. "No. No reason. I thought it was just -" He stopped himself. "I don't know anything about medical stuff. She didn't say doctor. She just said keep it on."
"You didn't touch it yourself? Put it on me? Take it off? Adjust it?"
"No, sir," he said. "I never touched it. We were just supposed to watch. I didn't even know there was anything under it until -" He gestured vaguely toward the table memory. "Until she grabbed your arm."
The nurse. He meant the nurse.
I nodded. "Did the other guy get the same instruction?"
"Yeah. Same."
We stood there while a truck rumbled past on the road. I could feel my pulse under the strap, too tight in the heat.
"One more thing," I said. "Have you gotten that order before? About the watch? Or was that night the first time?"
He thought about it. "First time I heard it. But we've only been on dinner duty three times."
I pushed off the SUV and held out my hand. He shook it. His grip was firm and dry despite the heat.
"I'll talk to her about the hours," I said. "Thank you for telling me straight."
He looked uncomfortable. "I didn't mean any harm by it, sir. We were just doing what she asked."
"I know," I said. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."
I walked back to my car across the shimmering lot. My shirt stuck to my back. I didn't look back at the office windows, but I could feel them watching. I sat behind the wheel for a minute with the AC blowing in my face, staring at the watch on my wrist.
Keep it on and snug. If he takes it off, let me know.
May you like
It wasn't a conspiracy. It was worse in a way. It was my sister giving a simple order to men who didn't ask why, and them following it because that was the job. I believed him. He didn't know what was under the strap. He just knew not to let me remove it.
I started the car and pulled out of the lot, the photo from urgent care still folded in my pocket. I knew where I had to go next.
