The Secret (The Scinegue Series Book 1) (2 page)

“How could that be? You said he lived in the same area his whole life. Even if he wasn’t friends with his neighbors, they would have known him.”

“You would think.” He shrugged. “Everyone I talked to was vague, acting like they didn’t know who had lived in his house. When I told them his name and described him they seemed surprised they’d forgotten about him. ‘Oh, right! Jerald Tanner. Of course, he...’ and that was it. It seemed like they were going to tell me something about him, and then nothing.”

Sarah shook her head. “That sounds pretty crazy, you know. It sounds like a bad spy movie.” She pushed her blond bangs back from her face and gave a nervous laugh, but Billy didn’t join her.

“You’re right,” he agreed, rubbing his thumb over a callous on his palm. “I don’t know what to think, though. You know this job was strange right from the start.”

“Don’t say that! It’s a great job. You were so fortunate to get it with the economy the way it is. It’s so much better than working two part-time jobs like you were doing. You know not everyone who took that test got job offers.”

She paced over to the window and stared unseeingly into the backyard with her hands on her hips. Since Billy started working at Scinegue things were finally starting to turn around for them financially. She knew money wasn’t everything, but it sure was nice knowing the bills would be paid every month.

“It is weird that they don’t want you to talk about your work, and that you have to be so careful,” she continued with a half shrug. “I mean it’s garbage, stuff people are throwing away.”

She paced some more and then continued speaking as if Billy had replied. “It’s also strange that you’re not supposed to have any contact with the people who live there.” She thought out an answer to her own comment. “They just have more money than anyone should be allowed to have and want things done a certain way. That’s not all that strange. Picky, sure. But if they’re going to pay top dollar to have a job done, it’s not strange for them to request it be done just so.” She almost had herself convinced and turned to Billy for his opinion. “Right?” she asked, looking for his reassurance.

The job was strange, but the money was phenomenal and Billy was smart. When the local job fair offered IQ testing for free job placement, he and Sarah were very excited about it. He’d always done well in school—finishing both high school and college early—and had scored an impressive 146 on an IQ test when he was younger. Not exactly Einstein level, but high enough to get him noticed. He figured he would score well on the test at the job fair and hoped the score would translate into a decent job.

When he was offered a position as a trash collector after the test, his pride had been more than a little bruised. Until he found out how much it paid. He’d expected—hoped for—some type of office job, and ‘trash collector’ didn’t sound very glamorous. But he decided that glamour was low on his current list of requirements, and money was high, and he really didn’t mind the physical labor, so trash collector it was.

He turned his thoughts back to the present. “I wasn’t being as careful as I could have been today, but I didn’t drag that garbage bag across the street or do anything that would have torn it. There wasn’t anything heavy or sharp in there that could have poked through, either. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’m guessing the bag must have had a huge hole in the bottom, not even just a small rip. If I didn’t tear it, someone must have been very careful to set it out with the hole perfectly on the bottom so the papers wouldn’t blow away before it was moved.” He stood up and stretched his long limbs.

“I’ve been wondering if someone was trying to cause problems for us, get us fired. But that doesn’t make sense.” He turned to look at Sarah. “Why would anyone care about us?”

“They won’t fire you over something that small,” Sarah tried to reassure him, even as her mind raced. “Even if they do, we’ll be just fine. We have the garden, and the Bensons are probably willing to trade some of our produce for eggs from their chickens,” she rambled while pacing the polished wood floor.

“I canned the peaches from our trees,” she continued, holding up a finger as she made each point, “and we’ll have pecans later in the fall. We might have enough to sell. The house is paid for now, and we have money in the bank. I might even be able to get my old job back. We’ll be okay.” She nodded briskly, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, as she finished reciting a list almost identical to one Billy had gone over himself earlier, thankful now that they’d lived frugally to pay off the mortgage on their nice but tiny home.

Billy pulled her into his arms, hoping to stop the pacing and ease her racing mind. “Whoa, there, calm down.” He gave a slight laugh, surprised to see her so wound up. She was usually very calm and level-headed.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” He bent down to look in her lowered eyes. “All right? Let’s just put this behind us for tonight and not even think about it again until tomorrow. If that guy reported us, we’ll know first thing. There’s no sense worrying about it now. Even if he did report us, it doesn’t mean I’ll lose my job over it. Technically I didn’t do anything wrong. If that bag already had a hole in it, I couldn’t do much about that.”

Sarah swallowed hard and firmed her chin. She knew Billy was as worried about his job as she was, and she didn’t want to add to his stress. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m overreacting, and I’m also forgetting where our help comes from. God has always provided for us and I have no reason to think He’ll stop now.”

She circled his waist with her arms and leaned into him, finding strength in his embrace. Her head only came up to his chest with the foot in height difference between them, but somehow they were still a perfect fit.

“Why don’t we go out back and work in the garden for a while?” she suggested. “That’s always relaxing, and the weeds are popping up quicker than I can keep them pulled by myself.” She gave Billy a more confident smile, her eyes moist with unshed tears but full of determination. “I know everything’s going to be okay.”

C
arefully emptying trash cans and swinging loaded trash bags into the back of the truck the next day, Billy felt stress trying to overwhelm him. He took off his gloves and wiped his sweaty palms on his khakis, telling himself again to relax. If he was going to be fired, it would’ve already happened. Management wouldn’t even let him be on the back of this truck if they weren’t happy with his work.

He tried to talk to Ben about what happened the day before, but he was tight-lipped and in a hurry to get their route started. Billy didn’t know if management had talked to him about the spilled trash or not.

Working hard with his back square to the house where his troubles started the day before, Billy noticed a persistent tingle start between his shoulder blades and work its way to his scalp. He knew it could just be nerves causing the sensation, but a brief glance over his shoulder revealed his senses weren’t deceiving him. He was being watched. He found he was only slightly surprised to see the same man framed by the window, his expression intense.

Billy wiped his forearm across his brow, the tingle turning to a chill. In a neighborhood where he usually didn’t see anyone, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence that he’d seen the same person twice. Both times watching him. He decided it didn’t mean anything good.

After finishing their route, Ben hopped out of the truck without a word the minute it was parked and strode across the parking lot towards the main building to sign out for the day. It was obvious he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but after just a brief hesitation Billy hurried after him. He had so many questions and felt sure Ben had at least some of the answers.

Ben had already signed out and was hurrying past the main building on his way to the parking lot, with Billy not far behind. Suddenly the smoky glass front doors swung open in sync. Two men dressed in dark suits walked out side by side, each grabbed an elbow and escorted Ben inside. Billy was too far away to hear what—if anything—was said, but the single desperate look Ben cast over his shoulder as he let himself be led away was chilling.

Billy stopped where he was. His heart hammered in his chest. He pictured Ben’s desperate expression and found himself wanting to run away. But what was he running from? A torn bag and a few papers on the street? They’d cleaned up the mess and didn’t do anything wrong. No, he didn’t want to be escorted inside like Ben to what, get fired? But there wasn’t anything to be
scared
of.

Before he had time for another thought, the front doors swung open a second time revealing a pair of men almost identical to the first, walking straight towards him. “William Roth?” the one on the left wearing a deep blue suit asked. Without waiting for a reply, each man grabbed an elbow and started to lead him to the front doors.

Billy’s cold fear flashed to hot anger at the treatment. His hands balled into fists at his sides as he appraised the situation with glances from one man to the other. The men looked pretty solid with their broad shoulders straining against what could have only been custom-made suits. Every bit as tall as he was, they were built like linebackers and it was two against one, but Billy was no lightweight himself. The physical labor of his job kept him in excellent condition and although he wasn’t exactly proud of it, he knew how to fight.

They probably expected a fight, or at least some type of resistance. Otherwise they wouldn’t have come out like a couple of enforcers. His eyes narrowed at the thought.
He wouldn’t prove them right,
he decided with growing anger,
but he wasn’t going to be led around like a criminal either.

“Yes, I’m William Roth.” He surprised them by shrugging out of their grasp and stopping right outside the door with his arms crossed and legs spread slightly. “What’s this about?” he demanded, hoping he sounded much calmer than he felt.

The two men glanced at each other. They weren’t used to being questioned, and couldn’t seem to decide if they should lower themselves to answer, or just physically drag him inside. Deciding a bigger scene wasn’t necessary, Blue Suit spoke again, “Mr. Bryant would like to ask you a few questions about an incident that happened yesterday on your route.”

Billy’s eyes darted to the parking lot, and for a split second he considered making a run for his truck and just taking off and never coming back.
Stay cool
,
Billy
.
Just stay cool
, he repeated to himself taking a deep, steadying breath.
You didn’t do anything wrong
.

“I’ll answer any questions you have about my work. What I want to know first is why you’re escorting me as if I’m being arrested?” He managed to frown at each of the suits as if offended.

“What is it you want to ask me?” he continued when both men just eyed him warily.

The men exchanged another look and the man in the charcoal gray suit finally spoke with a gravely voice. “You need to come with us, Mr. Roth. We aren’t the ones with the questions.”

Making a quick decision, Billy walked forward with forced confidence, “Okay, sure.”

The suits flanked him on either side as he entered the building, but no longer tried to propel him with physical force. One step inside the door, however, and he stopped cold. His first look at the interior of the Scinegue building filled him with a combination of awe and trepidation. If he’d ever given a thought to what the interior of the office building looked like before—which he didn’t really think he had—he would never have imagined anything like what he saw before him.

Understated but gorgeous described it best. Simple but elegant tables with matching chairs arranged throughout a large lobby offered inviting places for visiting or discussing business. Real flames flickered from sconces around the room, providing a refined, yet relaxing, ambiance. But the thing that made Billy’s jaw drop and kept him frozen in place was the ceiling. A beautiful patchwork of stained glass, so unexpected in a building with such a plain exterior, covered the entire ceiling three-stories above, letting in varying shades of light to tint the room with soft, ever changing colors.

A not so gentle nudge broke his contemplation of the ceiling and forced him to the left past a large marble desk. If the impeccably dressed men and women passing through the lobby hadn’t made him feel underdressed, the gorgeous redhead behind the desk took care of that instantly.

Without sparing a glance at the passing men, she exuded an aura of self-control and competency. She sat with her back ramrod straight as she efficiently answered the multiple phone lines. A silky, royal blue blouse buttoned to the very top gave her an appearance of class and distinction. Billy felt he should have showered and changed before even being allowed to walk through the front doors of the same building where someone who looked like her worked.

Billy’s escorts came to an abrupt stop, and he tore his attention from the receptionist to see what they were doing. Blue Suit swiped a card through a security device on a locked door then punched in a code. The door unlocked with a click.

Billy cast a nervous glance back towards what felt like the safety of the lobby and was surprised to find the receptionist watching him. She broke eye contact almost instantly, looking back down at her desk, but not before Billy saw something that was far from reassuring: fear. He was certain he saw fear in her eyes.
Was she worried about what was going to happen to him?

Billy was given another nudge and looked towards the long hall in front of him. Was he being foolish going along with these guys willingly? His eyes darted from left to right, and his pulse jumped wildly. People were everywhere. It wasn’t like there weren’t any witnesses ... and here he stopped and gave his head a brisk shake.

He was letting himself get way too worked up over what was probably going to be a simple reprimand—he exhaled sharply. At worst he was about to lose his job. Thinking anything worse than that was about to happen was just crazy.

He made himself take a step forward and let the men lead him down the hall. As he walked between them he noticed the hallway was decorated with niches filled with delicate artwork, interspersed with a wide variety of paintings hung at precise intervals.

He craned his neck to look into the offices and rooms they passed. From the little he could see, the rooms looked almost identical with top quality furnishings, and neutral paint and flooring. The men he saw looked similar to his escorts, with business suits and short hair. The women he saw seemed to share a similar appearance as well. It was kind of eerie, like a building full of clones.

It’s probably like that in any profession,
he decided.
Like lawyers, they had a certain appearance to maintain.

The hall branched to the right, but they continued straight before stopping at another locked door. This one was more elaborate than the first, and required Blue Suit to place his open hand on a scanner before the lock disengaged with a click. Billy wondered what lay behind the door that required such tight security, but found the hall that continued on the other side was similar to the one they had just traversed.

The suits came to a stop before a closed wooden door with an elegant brass handle. Gray Suit rapped his knuckles against the solid wood, opening the door when a muffled call to enter came from inside.

Billy realized he’d been expecting an interrogation room like he saw on criminal television shows. An empty room with just a table and a couple of chairs on either side, and the always present two-way mirror that allowed surveillance for anyone not wanting to be seen.

The room he was encouraged to enter with a slight shove from behind was far from his expectations. This was an office of luxury. He might not know the name or value of each article in the office, but they each screamed taste and wealth. Dark wood and deep tones throughout gave the room a distinct masculine feel that was almost oppressive with its countless pieces of priceless art and furnishings.

Billy’s eyes roamed from one display to the next before coming to rest on the well-dressed man studying him with a piercing intensity through dark, almost black eyes from behind a stately desk. Older than Billy by probably ten to fifteen years, his hair was still dark and he wore it slicked back from a closely shaven face of chiseled features. He appeared to be trying to decide if he should stand and welcome Billy as a colleague, or remain seated in a position of power.

The man abruptly stood and walked around the desk. His focused expression melted into a warm smile and he extended a hand to Billy as if he was happy to see him. “William, welcome! I am so glad you could spare the time to meet with me. I’m Eugene Bryant,” he introduced himself while heartily shaking Billy’s hand.

“Please call me Eugene. You go by Billy, I believe? Is it all right if I call you William?” He gave Billy a friendly smile displaying straight white teeth. “I have a thing about nicknames.”

Billy nodded his consent and carefully sat in the straight-backed chair he was motioned to.

“Please make yourself comfortable.” Mr. Bryant returned to his chair and closed some folders, stacking them in a neat pile on the edge of his tidy desk before turning to give Billy his full attention. “I’m sure you are curious why I’ve had you detained when you would much rather be on your way home to your lovely wife.”

His smile was winning, but Billy was far from being won over. This was just too strange.

“I have a few questions for you if you can spare the time,” Mr. Bryant continued as if Billy really had a choice in the matter.

Billy wondered what would happen if he just stood up and said, ‘Sorry, I don’t have the time. See you around, Gene,’ and walked out the door. He pictured the two men who had brought him here, and figured they would not allow him to get far.

“Of course, sir. What questions do you have for me?” Billy asked in a calm voice that belied his pounding heart.

“What’s this ‘sir’ stuff?” Mr. Bryant’s laugh was congenial. “I told you Eugene is fine.”

“Okay, Eugene.” Billy tried again with a stiff smile as he rubbed the palm of his hand against his thigh. “What were those questions you had?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll get right to that. First, let me just confirm I have my facts straight. You were hired close to seven months ago after attending the Scinegue job fair.”

Billy’s nerves were strung tight, and he nodded in confirmation, even though it wasn’t really presented as a question.

“You started out working with Benjamin Richardson and Jerald Tanner. You later continued work with just Mr. Richardson. So sad about Mr. Tanner.” He shook his head as if a tragedy had occurred, then continued abruptly. “Your route consists of three neighborhoods
:
Sunny Meadows, Warm Brook and Scinegue.”

Billy nodded again.

“Good,
good
,” Eugene said, as if the meeting was going very smoothly. He steepled his carefully manicured hands under his clean-shaven chin and met Billy’s eyes with a steely stare before he continued in a deeper tone. “As I’m sure you have noticed, there is a type of hierarchy, if you will, between the neighborhoods, with each being progressively nicer then the last. Scinegue being the most exclusive.”

Billy simply nodded again when a response seemed desired.

“You were also aware when you accepted this job that only complete competency and discretion would be acceptable in your position?”

Here it comes,
Billy thought. T
hat guy standing in the window must have reported them. He probably assumed someone else would turn them in and when they showed up again today he must have done it himself.

Billy leaned forward with his hands braced on his thighs. “Sir, if this is about the incident with a few papers spilling out of a bag yesterday, I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

Mr. Bryant looked irritated and then amused. “How exactly can you
assure
me it won’t happen again, I wonder?” He tilted his head to the side and looked at Billy expectantly.