Junkyard by Lindsay Buroker

Author:Lindsay Buroker [Buroker, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It was raining the next morning, a warm rain that melted dents and divots in the gray mounds of snow that plows had pushed to the edges of the road and parking area. McCall followed Scipio around the warehouse and the sugarhouse as he questioned the employees who had made her short list. She hadn’t dug up evidence in Dunham’s records of any significant debt—just a line of credit and a mortgage, both of which he paid on regularly each month. She’d also looked up his family members and the business itself. Maple Moon Factory didn’t have a huge profit margin, but it was in the black with no accounts payable outstanding that she had been able to dig up.

When Louis came in—an hour later than most of the employees—she veered away from Scipio and braced herself to ask questions.

But Dunham reached him first, scowling as he stomped out of his office. He planted himself in Louis’s path and didn’t seem to notice McCall.

“You’re late again?” Dunham demanded.

“Sorry, sir.” Louis’s cheeks reddened as he looked at Dunham’s shoes instead of his face. “I stayed late yesterday, so I thought—”

“You don’t get to make your own hours, Desmarais. You’re here when the sap’s flowing so you can oversee its collection. That’s your job, not staying in your office after hours playing some stupid game.”

Louis’s shoulders slumped, and he didn’t argue.

“If you’re late again,” Dunham continued, “you’re fired. And when you make your weekly sap report to Tate, do it in person. Quit delivering written reports and slinking off before he can ask you questions.”

“Yes, sir,” Louis whispered.

Dunham stalked away, bumping Louis hard in the shoulder as he passed.

McCall, realizing her fingers had curled into fists, forced herself to uncurl them. This wasn’t her business, so she couldn’t butt in. Besides, if Louis felt he was being treated poorly, he could look for another job.

Except that it wasn’t always that easy. McCall thought of all the jobs her very smart and very talented sister had held over the years, unable to, despite her intelligence, “work well with others.” That was what so many of her termination reports had said in some variation or another. McCall was lucky that entrepreneurship was one of her passions, and she hadn’t minded learning how to market her services. She was also lucky the sys-net made it so she rarely had to do so in person.

“Are you all right?” McCall stuck her hands in her pockets as she walked closer to Louis, trying to appear non-intimidating, like someone he could trust, not some hired detective. Someone he could trust and talk to. If he had any dirt on Dunham, this might be the perfect time to ask.

Louis jumped, glanced at her, and jerked his gaze away. His cheeks were even redder now. Was he embarrassed because she’d witnessed him being berated?

“Fine,” he mumbled.

“He seems like an ass.” McCall waved in the direction Dunham had gone.

Louis shrugged. “I’m late more often than I should be. It’s my own fault.

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