The Next One Will Kill You by Neil S. Plakcy

Author:Neil S. Plakcy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay, fbi, mystery, police, south beach, florida, terrorism
Publisher: Samwise Books
Published: 2016-08-25T00:00:00+00:00

20 – Troubles and Dreams

I FOUND THE WEBSITE for Food Group International, the concessionaire at the Miami Beach Convention Center. I read about the various venues they had contracts with and clicked on the “apply online” link. They had all the right verbiage: you had to be authorized to work in the United States, have no criminal record less than five years old, and upload at least two forms of identification, including one photo ID issued by a government agency. You could also apply in person at offices in Fort Lauderdale or Miami.

Neither was close to the Bureau office in Miramar, but it was easier to get to the Lauderdale office. I hopped on the highway and found their office at the back end of a failed downtown mall called Riverwalk. Most of the stores and restaurants had been shuttered, which was a shame, because there was a nice promenade along the New River and the property was convenient to office, apartment and condo towers. I climbed a winding staircase of terracotta tiles and followed signs to the back end of the property, where I found FGI’s office tucked beyond the mall restrooms.

A fifty-something woman with tinted glasses and streaked blonde hair sat behind a desk with a cell phone to her ear and a bored look on her face. The metal placard in front of her read “Susan.” She handed me a clipboard and said, “Fill out the front and back and provide two forms of ID.”

There were three people in the waiting room filling out forms: two middle-aged Haitian women and a young white guy with tattooed arms.

I shook my head and palmed my ID. “Angus Green, FBI. I’d like to speak to someone in charge of hiring.”

“I’ll have to call you back,” she said into her cell phone. Then she turned behind her and called, “Myra! The FBI is here!” The three applicants all looked up, and the white guy stood up, dropped his clipboard, and hurried out of the office.

Myra stepped out of the back office. She looked enough like Susan to be her sister. “How can I help you?” she asked, after she’d examined my badge.

She didn’t offer to lead me in the back. “I’d like to discuss the way you vet the credentials of the people you hire.”

“We do everything we’re required to do by the law.”

“I know for a fact that a man with falsified credentials worked at one of your venues.”

“Hah!” she said, pointing a lacquered fingernail at me. “Worked! I assume he doesn’t work for us anymore.”

“That’s correct. But I’d like to know how he got hired in the first place.”

She shook her head. “Our attorneys have advised us that we can’t release any information about our past or present employees without a subpoena. Do you have one of those?”

“I do not.”

“Then I can’t help you.”

“I’m not asking about specific employees,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I just wanted to talk about your hiring practices in general.”

“Read my lips, babycakes,” Myra said.

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