Chapter Six
Kathryn pushed through the turnstiles on the way out of the plant after one of the longest weeks of her life.
T.G.I.F. What an understatement.
The wind gusted across the parking lot as the late afternoon sun glittered in the puddles from an earlier rain. Thick, pewter clouds loomed in the distance. Snow clouds. Anything was possible in late October.
The afternoon meeting with the employees hadn’t gone as expected. Her plan was to highlight the company’s renewed commitment to safety and to offer them a means to share their ideas through an old-fashioned suggestion box. Simple, right? Far from it. Instead she got disgruntled employees wanting to know if the rumors were true. Was she planning to sell Midport Industries? When she had avoided a direct answer, she knew she had done nothing to quell their concerns.
When she reached her car, she placed her briefcase on the roof to dig out her keys. Something felt off. She glanced down and immediately knew why. She slapped her hand against the window. Two flat tires. Just great. She strode around to the passenger’s side. Two more.
Disbelief swirling in her head, she mumbled under her breath and bent down to inspect one of the tires. A long slice tore through the black rubber. She kicked the tire and pain shot up her leg. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She limped to the other side to get her cell phone.
A familiar, long, low whistle vibrated to her core. She spun around, not surprised to see Benjamin shaking his head.
“Why do you always happen to show up right after something goes wrong?”
Benjamin shrugged. “Lucky for you, I guess? What’s going on?”
“Somebody doesn’t like me.” Kathryn pointed to the evidence.
“Maybe they don’t like your car.”
“Very funny.” She pulled her cell from her briefcase and flipped it open.
“I’m serious. If you haven’t noticed, everyone around here drives a domestic vehicle. Sometimes a guy gets it in his head all these foreign vehicles are driving his job away.”
“So that makes it okay?” Her entire body tensed.
“Absolutely not. But maybe it’s not personal.”
“It’s personal all right. Someone spilled the beans about me wanting to sell the plant. Do I have you to thank?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned her back and punched in the number for information on her cell. The operator connected her to a towing firm. After giving the driver directions, she flipped her phone closed and turned to face him, planting a fist on her hip. “You plan on offering me a ride?”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he said, inclining his head. He took a step toward her and reached for her briefcase on top of the car just as she did. Their hands collided, and she immediately dropped her arm to her side.
“I’ll carry that for you,” he said, sliding the briefcase off the roof. “Unless that’s against the rules.” The corners of his mouth turned up and a hint of mischief danced in his eyes.
“Whatever floats your boat.” Still stewing about her car, she was tempted to wipe Benjamin’s smug expression off his face. She curled her hands into balls and stuffed them into her coat pockets, just to be on the safe side.
“Don’t you want to wait for the tow truck?” Benjamin’s green eyes narrowed.
“No, I’ll leave my keys in the unlocked vehicle.” Exhaling heavily, she pulled her keys out of her pocket. “If someone wants to try to drive it away on four flat tires, they can be my guest.”
Once cocooned in his warm American-made SUV, she leaned back on the headrest, thinking ahead to a hot bubble bath. A book. Bed.
“I didn’t tell anyone about your plans to sell Midport Industries.” Benjamin’s tone was remarkably even.
Kathryn cut him a sideways glance but didn’t say anything. It doesn’t matter. The word is out.
“You want me to swing by your house so you can change?” Benjamin asked.
“Change?”
“You’re going to the company barbeque, right?”
Poof. The vision of a relaxing evening vanished. She had forgotten about the cookout. “Yes…?” She phrased her answer in a question, hoping for an out, but knowing that in her tenuous position she should use this night as a goodwill gesture.
“You do know we’re going to a barbeque under a tent, right?” Benjamin said when Kathryn climbed into his car dressed in gray wool pants, leather boots and her long black coat. He felt underdressed in his blue jeans, college sweatshirt and a ski jacket.
Kathryn shrugged. “I’m fine.”
“With all this rain we’ve had, it might be muddy. You sure you don’t want to run in and change into sneakers and jeans?”
“I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth.
“The tent is heated, but there’s no guarantee you’ll be warm. You have a thicker jacket?” He continued, stifling a grin.
“I’ll be fine. This coat is warm.” She pulled a piece of fluff off her sleeve.
Benjamin envisioned her leather boots sinking into the mud, but decided he had pushed it far enough. He put the car into reverse. “Suit yourself.”
When they arrived at Midport Industries, he noticed a white tent set up on a large, grassy area. His father had started this tradition about eight years ago. “Treat employees like family and they’ll be forever loyal,” his father had been fond of saying.
Benjamin pulled into one of the last free parking spots in the far side of the lot. No one passed up free food and drinks. When he pushed open the car door, the steady wind delivered notes from some indistinguishable pop tune.
As they began their trek, Kathryn caught his arm, a serious look in her eyes. “I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah…?” He invited her to continue. With a tip of his head, he acknowledged a group of men walking a short distance away.
“I studied the production numbers coming off the lines and compared them to the ship numbers going out the back door of the warehouse. They don’t match.” She spoke in hushed tones.
“Can we talk about this later?” This woman had a one-track mind. Work, work, work. The tangy scent of barbeque made his stomach growl. The last thing he wanted to do was talk shop out in this cold wind.
“No, hear me out. This has been weighing on my mind.” She flipped up the collar on her coat and hunched her shoulders against the cold.
“Okay,” he said, “so the discrepancy means we’re losing parts somewhere.” Benjamin stuffed his fists into the pockets of his jacket, wishing he had gloves.
The glow of the lampposts shimmered in Kathryn’s wide eyes. “A lot of parts.”
“You want to round up the troops and point fingers?” He frowned. “Maybe we should do it over potato salad.” His words dripped with sarcasm. She’d never gain the trust of the workers at this rate.
Kathryn’s shoulders dropped momentarily until she seemed to force them back. “Give me more credit. I want to look into it myself which—” she lowered her voice, “—involves going to the warehouse when it’s empty. I want to check on things without a lot of fanfare. Maybe Sunday night.”
Kathryn ran a hand along her neat braid. Her delicate fingers worked the loose strands at the base of the rubber band. “Will you come with me? I can’t do it without you,” she finally said, the confession ripped from her lips.
Benjamin smiled. Gloated, actually. “So you need my help, huh? My sharp eye. My keen analytical skills. My vast knowledge.”
Rolling her eyes, she turned on her heel and strode toward the tent. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling. “Actually, I’ll need a ride.”
Kathryn and Benjamin filled their plates with food and sat at a picnic table under the tent. Before long, a burly man with a thick beard approached the table. Benjamin stood and greeted him with a handshake. “Kathryn, this is Bud Farley.”
Before Kathryn had a chance to register the name, the man said, “I hope what I’m hearing isn’t true.” She opened her mouth, but he wasn’t finished yet. “As president of local 770, I have a responsibility to my fellow union brothers and sisters. You can’t come here and shut this place down. You’ll have a huge fight on your hands.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, staring down at her, doing his best to intimidate her.
“Now, Bud—” Benjamin started to say, but Kathryn held up her hand, interrupting him. She didn’t need anyone to fight her battles. She stood, meeting Bud eye to eye. Light reflected off his bald head. Working in a predominately male field, she had learned a long time ago not to tolerate any kind of bullying tactic.
“Bud Farley.” She paused. “It is Farley, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I knew your dad. He’d turn over in his grave if he knew what you were up to. Taking the company he founded—”
“Take it easy,” Benjamin cut him off, placing his hand on the small of her back. Kathryn hitched her chin up and swallowed the lump in her throat. How dare he mention her father? Her father. She bit her lower lip, trying to quell the anger bubbling in her stomach.
“Mr. Farley,” she said through gritted teeth, “if you’d like to discuss this with me further, please make an appointment to see me in my office. I’d be happy to review my plans for the company with you and your members when the time is appropriate.”
Bud thumped the table with his index and middle finger. “Darned straight.”
Kathryn watched Bud saunter away. She lowered herself onto the picnic bench, her legs like liquid. Not because of Bud’s tactics, but because of the mention of her father. Would he hate what I’ve become? Am I doing the right thing?
“Don’t take it to heart.” Benjamin leaned close to her ear, his breath whispering across the fine hairs that framed her face. “That’s his job.”
She shifted, putting some distance between them. “The Bud Farleys of the world tend to be a problem.”
Benjamin tilted his head, seeming to study her as she smoothed a hand across her hair. “His bark is worse than his bite.”
“Can’t think of a better way to spend my Sunday evening,” Benjamin shouted over his shoulder, his tone sarcastic. She was in no mood for his comments. Like she didn’t have better things to do than investigate missing parts in the warehouse?
“I would have come by myself, but since my car is still in the shop…” Kathryn’s words blew away in the wind as they sped on the little yellow industrial scooter across the dark parking lot separating the plant from the warehouse. She adjusted her grip on the U-shaped bars mounted on either side of the seat. She hated riding backwards on the scooter. It reminded her of an amusement park ride. She didn’t like them much either.
The scooter rounded the corner and Kathryn held on for dear life. “Could you slow down a bit?” She swore he drove like a maniac on purpose to irritate her.
Benjamin braked hard and the scooter skidded on the gravel. Her back slammed against his. Again, totally intentional.
“Sorry.” He shifted in his seat. “I forgot how touchy these brakes can be.”
She slid forward and stepped off the scooter. “I’m sure.”
An amused smile lit his handsome face. “You got the key for the warehouse?” He stepped aside, and she slipped past him to climb the cement stairs to a side door.
Unlocking the door, she pulled it open. Heavy shadows cloaked the warehouse. The minimal security lighting around the perimeter of the building provided dim illumination at best.
“Great idea. We’ll learn a lot in the dark.” Benjamin rubbed his jaw. She couldn’t quite tell, but she thought he had a smile on his face.
“I prefer to do this without the workers around.” Her lips twisted into a grimace. “Know where the light switch is?”
“If we didn’t come here at night—” He bit off the end of his sentence, sounding his annoyance for the umpteenth time.
Leaning back on the edge of a metal rack, she sighed heavily. “I’ve only been here a short time and I’ve ticked some people off. I want to tread lightly for a little bit.”
His shadowed features gave nothing away, and suddenly she felt the need to lighten the mood. “I want to lay low until I break in the new tires, at least.” Her laugh sounded forced.
“Tell me, what do you think we’ll find tonight?”
“We’re definitely losing parts—most likely damaging them—somewhere between the time they come off the production line and the time they go out the warehouse door.” Kathryn scanned the warehouse, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting. “It doesn’t make sense. The parts are packed in corrugated material before being placed in a rack. From the plant, they’re transported by fork truck to the warehouse, sorted and loaded onto trucks for shipment to the assembly plants. There’s no reason they should get damaged.”
“Wait here,” Benjamin said. “I’ll go to the main office and turn on the lights. No sense both of us tripping over something.”
“Do you have a smart-mouth comment for everything?” She closed the distance between them and playfully slugged him on the arm.
He grabbed her hand and held it. “Remember another time we came here?”
Her mind flashed on a long-forgotten memory. Once, when they were around seventeen, they had come to the empty warehouse to hang—just because they could—and their evening was cut short when Peter Hill had happened by. Heat infused her face. “He was so mad. He thought we were up to no good.”
“At least he never ratted us out to our parents.” The smile slid from Benjamin’s face. “A lot has changed since we were kids.” Sighing deeply, he turned on his heel. “I’ll find that light switch.” She stared after him until he disappeared around the corner. She regretted the shift in mood. Why couldn’t they just enjoy each other’s company for the short time she planned on being here? Ah, maybe because you’re trying to convince him to sell the plant?
Refocusing on the task at hand, she wandered around the nearby racks. The dim light provided enough illumination to read the part numbers if she held the tags close to her face. As she struggled to make out the writing on a tag, she felt a presence, the keen sense someone was there filling space, creating noise albeit subtle. Tiny pinpricks flushed the back of her neck. Her scalp. She spun around.
“Benjamin,” she whispered. The deep shadows shifted. Was she imagining things? Her heart raced. Her pulse roared in her head.
“Don’t play games with me,” she croaked out, taking a few steps in the direction, feigning courage she didn’t feel.
The eerie silence told her otherwise.
A course hand covered her mouth, pulled her back against a hard body. Icy terror surged through her veins. She opened her mouth to scream. The hand clamped firmly against her lips. Her teeth. Tasting of nicotine. Stifling her scream.
“You like to play games?” His breath hissed across her face. Her stomach clenched. From the smell of stale beer? Or fear?
She tried to shake her head, but he had a firm grip on her mouth and jaw. Her eyes scanned the darkness, searching for any sign of Benjamin.
The attacker yanked her back. Her head slammed against his shoulder. Pain tore down her neck. His other hand wrapped around her waist. She felt the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of her shirt. The intimacy of the contact brought tears to her eyes.
“What is she doing here?” A voice dripping with a combination of surprise and outright annoyance drifted out of the shadows. A fresh blanket of gooseflesh covered her skin. There were two of them.
Kathryn took shallow breaths. Think. Think. Think.
The second intruder sauntered into her field of vision. He handed her captor something. She wasn’t sure what it was. He had the drawstring of his hood pulled tight around his face, allowing only a small opening for his heavily shadowed eyes. “I thought this place was supposed to be empty.” He cursed under his breath and paced with jerky movements. “Tie her to the rack.” His words were mumbled. Disguised.
“Oh, come on, man. We could have fun with this one.” Her captor slipped his hand under the edge of her shirt and brushed his calloused palm across her flesh. Without considering the consequences, she bowed her head then jerked it back suddenly, striking his collarbone. A fresh pain radiated out from the back of her skull.
A chuckle ripped from deep in his chest. “This one’s feisty. Come on, man. Just a little fun?”
The hooded intruder shook his head and gestured to the rack. “Hurry.” Then he leaned in close to Kathryn. “Keep your nose out of things.”
The grimy hand clamped over her mouth prevented her from speaking.
“Stay out of it.” His muffled voice sounded ominous in the cavernous warehouse. “Go back to wherever you came from.”
Her captor took a step back, separating their bodies, his hand still pressed against her mouth. “I’m going to remove my hand. If you say anything, you’ll be sorry.”
He pushed her to the ground. She landed hard on her right knee and hand. A punch to her back knocked the wind out of her. She flattened against the cold cement, struggling to suck oxygen into her lungs.
Just go away, she thought. Just go away. Then a prayer flooded her panicky brain. Please, God, let Benjamin be okay.
The hooded intruder yanked her hand behind her back and wrapped something that felt like a wire around her wrist, then the other. With hands behind her, he dragged her to a seated position. Then he fastened the wire around her wrists to a bar on a nearby rack. She bit back a cry as the wire cut into her flesh.
The captor, a baseball cap pulled low and his collar pulled up, crouched down and whispered in her ear. “Don’t look so sad. They’ll find you in the morning.”
“Come on,” the hooded intruder said. “We’re all set. Let’s get out of here.” His efforts to disguise his voice made her wonder if she knew him. Her father’s words in the dream floated up, a reminder: “Someone you know will hurt you.”
She tipped her head back against the rack, trying to still her trembling body, trying to mask her fear. She narrowed her eyes. Her captor’s dark eyes glistened, but she couldn’t make out any features. The other man remained hidden behind his cinched hood. A new fear knotted her stomach. What if they thought she could identify them? Should she look away? Curl into a ball and pray they left her alone? Her stomach dropped.
“Hey!” Benjamin shouted. Kathryn’s heart jumped into her throat. Benjamin. Thank God.
The intruders spun around to face him. Her former captor reached behind him into his waistband.
“Watch out!” Kathryn screamed. Did he have a gun? She pulled forward, wincing. The wire cut into her tender wrists.
Benjamin stepped back and lifted his hands. “Take it easy.”
The hooded intruder grabbed his partner’s arm. “Let’s go. Now,” he barked.
“It ain’t worth it.” The one who had been holding her turned and followed his buddy. They disappeared into the darkness of the warehouse.
“Katie, are you okay?” Benjamin’s compassionate voice washed over her. He kept his eyes trained in the direction of the fleeing intruders.
Convinced they were gone, he knelt and ran a finger across her cheek. “Hold on. I’ll get these off.” He leaned behind her and worked the wire. She breathed in his clean scent, trying to purge the rank smell of stale tobacco and beer. She liked the idea of Benjamin as her protector.
She frantically searched behind him. The deep shadows played tricks on her. “Are they gone?” Her vision blurred with the tears she could no longer hold back.
“I think so. They probably left through the open bay.”
Kathryn closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Clean. Familiar. Benjamin.
“Who were they? What did they want?” A mishmash of thoughts swirled through her brain. She couldn’t make sense of any of it.
Benjamin freed her hands and pulled her to her feet. His warm fingers massaged her raw wrists. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded, choking on emotion. “What were they doing here?”
“I have no idea.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I should have never left you alone. When the office was locked, I headed to the control panel by the back docks. When I got there, one of the bays was open.”
Kathryn needed to think. She pulled away from Benjamin and rubbed her wrists where he had left off. The abrasions seemed superficial. “We better call the police.”
He nodded. “You sure you’re okay?” He closed the distance between them and pulled her into an embrace. He caressed her back in small circular motions, sending much needed warmth to her bone-chilled body.
She lifted her face to look into his eyes. “What’s going on?”
Benjamin shook his head. He kissed her temple tenderly and ran a hand down the back of her head. The simple gesture provided more comfort than any words.