The office was already in full swing by the time he got there, and Judy tisked his hour-late arrival. “Auction this week, Ben, but you must have things together well enough to afford to be late, I see.”
“Actually, yeah. Thanks. Want a donut?” He waved his donut bag in her general direction.
“Ah, hmm, no, thanks. Oh, Krispy Kreme? I guess I can take care of that for you.” He handed over the second donut and headed back toward his office. “Oh, and by the way, the auctioneers are here today getting set with the inventory for the month.”
He turned to walk backward while still talking to her. “Thanks for the warning. Haven’t met them yet. Are they good people?”
“You mean less antagonistic than Tanya? Yeah. Actually a fun pair of boys from just north of Savannah. I think they’re, you know,” she held her arm in the air and let her hand fall limp. “But they’re good boys. Always polite and they’re good auctioneers.”
Ben decided to ignore the rather poorly mimed slur on the men’s sexual orientation. “I see. Thanks, Judy. Enjoy the donut.” When he made it to his warehouse, he opened the door just enough to hear what was going on inside, but not wide enough to draw attention to himself.
“I said, next item, Jeffrey.”
“Can’t a boy finish a conversation, woman?”
Ben had no trouble identifying the first voice as Tanya, but he didn’t know who the light tenor was that responded to her in such an amused fashion.
“We’re almost done with this. Another hour, and you can chat all you like before we head back north. Jeffrey?” Despite herself, Tanya sounded somewhat tolerant of the interloper. Ben wondered what his trick was.
“Jesus, hun, you have got to relax.” That was another new voice, this one more of a bass.
“You watch your mouth, mister. I don’t care who you are, you shouldn’t be taking the Lord’s name in vain. And I can’t relax down here in this godforsaken heat. Now enough, go do your work and leave us to ours.”
Ben rubbed his temples with his free hand and tried to summon up the patience to deal with the people behind the door. He finally kicked the door all the way open and strode in.
“Morning, Tanya, Jeffrey.”
“Hey, Ben,” Jeffrey returned. Nothing from Tanya, which Ben was rather grateful for this morning. He wasn’t sure his body could handle another irritant on top of the hangover.
The two new men in the warehouse were huddled over the shelves of the auction staging bay but turned at the sound of his voice.
“Ah, you must be Mister Benjamin Grant. So nice to meet you.” The smaller of the two men was dressed in a pink short-sleeved dress shirt and tan slacks and hurried up to him to shake his hand. “I’m Larry, and this is Steve.” He gestured to the taller and slimmer man behind him.
“Don’t we know you? Larry, don’t we know him?”
Ben opened his mouth to reply but was cut short.
“He does look familiar now that you mention it.”
“But where, that auction in Maryland?”
“No, definitely not Maryland; he’s a Georgia boy.”
“Yes, yes, I can see that. But not Atlanta, no.”
“No, not Atlanta. Savannah?”
“Savannah, yes, but not an auction either.”
By this time Ben thought he knew who they were, but he decided to wait out the verbal memory flood. It was much easier to go along for the ride than try to get a word in edgewise.
“No, a storefront. I’m remembering an armoire.” He gave the name the French pronunciation.
“No, not an armoire, a chest.”
“Chest! Yes, that gorgeous piece we picked up for that dear, Mrs. Peterson, wasn’t it?”
“Absolutely, from that little antique shop. You were the oh-so-helpful man behind the counter!”
Ben paused to be sure the two men were done, then nodded his head, which he immediately regretted. “That’s me alright. Hard to forget two customers such as yourselves.”
“We are that, aren’t we, Steve?” The smaller one jabbed his elbow into the side of his companion who laughed.
“Yes we are, Larry.”
“So,” Ben clapped his hands together and rubbed briskly, trying to force himself more awake and praying that he would have a moment soon to get to the aspirin in his drawer, “you two are my auctioneering team, then?”
Steve draped his arm over Ben’s shoulder, his touch feather light. “Have been for ages. We know how this is supposed to go, so don’t you fret none. Is all the merchandise accounted for and transferred to the holding area?”
“Yes, I was going to do a double check today, but I think it’s all there.” Ben wasn’t sure he was comfortable standing that close to anyone else, especially not with the man’s cologne playing havoc with his headache, but he felt it would be rude to duck out from under the arm.
Larry snagged Steve by his free arm and started towing him toward the auction bay. “Fantastic. We’ll just go through and order it for the show then. Put all the big ticket items at the back end, keeps the little fish on the floor longer and the big hitters never bother showing up on time anyway.”
Ben shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back. “Well, I’ll leave it in your capable hands. I’m just going to go take an aspirin and catch up on my paperwork for a moment.”
“Poor darling. Looks like someone had a rough night, hmm?” Larry winked at him and then turned back to the shelves, waving a negligent hand at Ben. “Go, honey, go. We don’t need you. We’ll holler if something doesn’t line up right. But you go drink some coffee. I find that usually does wonders.”
Ben’s mouth curled into a half smile. “Thanks for that. Have fun boys.” Even through his hangover and guilty feelings from last night, he found the two men amusing. Though he hoped they’d quiet down once they settled into their jobs.
Larry and Steve went back to the shelf full of collectibles they had been discussing when Ben came in, arguing over whether to group all the animal statues in one lot or sell them separately.
No sooner had Ben sat at his desk, with his head in his hands, trying to block out the noise of two separate couples working, then Sylvia banged into the warehouse with a cart full of items.
“Good morning, Ben!”
Ben looked up briefly and then away. “Thanks.” It had been years since he’d had to deal with any kind of morning-after conversation, and he just didn’t know what to say anymore. Particularly to someone technically his subordinate whom he suspected of sleeping with him out of pity. It was easier to try and ignore that it had ever happened.
“I said, good morning.” She crossed her arms and leaned on the cart, frowning. “Though for you it doesn’t look so good.”
Rubbing his temples, he felt he should apologize for something, though whether it was for giving in to the situation, or drinking more after she left, or just how sorry he was feeling for himself right now, he wasn’t sure. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Finishing that bottle after you kicked me out last night? That would make anyone mighty sorry the next morning.”
Ben tried to drag his stomach under control and squinted up at her. He decided to test the waters just a bit and see how she felt about the whole thing. “I’m sorry for, well,” he lowered his voice so no one else could hear, “taking advantage of the situation last night?”
“Taking advantage, gee, that’s funny.” She pushed the cart roughly against his desk, turned on her heel, and started to leave, but turned back. “The only mistake you made was kicking me out, idiot. You have no idea what you missed out on.” The crash of her cart briefly interrupted his warehouse invaders before they went back to their tasks. Noisy tasks with lots of shouting back and forth. Or at least it felt like shouting to Ben. After he was sure Sylvia had left, he looked at the cart she’d left behind. There was a bag from Dunkin’ Donuts in the top rack on top of a copy of Tennessee Williams’s plays that had seen much better days.
Hope this helps this morning. I have a feeling you’ll need it…
was scrawled across the bag in permanent marker. He peeked inside and found a multigrain bagel, still warm from toasting, and a packet of veggie cream cheese. It left him more confused than ever; a nice gesture balanced against her definitely irritated response to his apology didn’t help him figure out what had really gone on the night before besides the obvious.
Ben grimaced and tossed the bag into the bottom drawer of his desk. Maybe at lunchtime he’d feel like eating something, but now was not the time. Instead he turned on his computer and while he waited for it to boot up, he drained the last of his coffee.
After entering all of the items in the cart, he went in to the warehouse to shelve them as he hadn’t seen Sylvia again. He went to the bullpen himself to get the next cart, but she wasn’t there either. He felt like he needed to apologize again, this time for this morning. And for asking her to leave last night, as she had made abundantly clear.
But by lunchtime, he still hadn’t seen her. He had no idea where she was disappearing to this week, but people were sure they had just seen her, and she was apparently getting all her other work done as the shredding pile disappeared at some point. So he sat down to eat the bagel she had left him while trolling through news websites, looking for articles about the new development in his son’s disappearance.
It took him a moment to realize that Tanya and Jeffrey were standing over his desk. When he finally did look up, Jeffrey grinned. “Off in some fantasy world?”
“Not exactly.” He shut the window he was currently reading from—which had said the exact same thing as every other news service—and stood to stretch. “Are you guys done with the inventory already?”
Tanya cut Jeffrey off. “Of course. This was nothing. You should see the amount of pictures we have piling up on our shelves at home. Talk about an inventorying nightmare.”
Ben felt relieved to see these two out of his warehouse. Maybe he’d feel less overwhelmingly irritated once they were on the road home, and Sylvia would come back to help in the warehouse, which would be excellent, what with the auction coming up so shortly. “Well, good job to the both of you then. Hope you didn’t find things too out of order.”
Tanya shrugged before brushing some non-existent dust off the sleeve of her cardigan. “Mostly what was gone was what you already reported being stolen from the long-term bay; jewelry, etc. But there are a surprising number of photographs missing as well.”
“That’s...interesting.” Ben felt a bit more uneasy about the missing photographs as he suspected he knew where those were going. “So, what’s the next step from here? We’re all done, right?” He certainly hoped they were, he wasn’t sure he could handle many more days where he had to constantly watch his back while using the Center’s resources to search for his son. Or thickly accented voices echoing through his warehouse from open till close.
Tanya sniffed, one eyebrow raised as if she found his eagerness to be finished distasteful. “I will turn in my findings to the auditor. He will decide what happens from here.”
Ben was sure he hadn’t come across a mention of an auditor in Mrs. Biun’s manual, but it sounded distinctly ominous. “What’s an auditor?”
“
The
auditor, darling. He’ll get here the day after the auction. He goes from postal facility to postal facility and audits the branches, making sure they’re running on task and efficiently. He’ll know what to do about these things going missing. I’m sure he’ll fix the little blonde...ahem...the problem.” Tanya straightened her sweater set to cover her verbal gaffe and Jeffrey just rolled his eyes.
Ben was even more worried. If this woman was so out to get Sylvia, regardless of what had just happened between them last night, Ben was determined to figure out whether the woman was going to make things difficult on her. “You’re just giving him the list then, right?”
Tanya smiled, sickly sweet and full of poison. “And my perceptions of your facility and competencies, of course.”
Ben could feel the bagel solidifying in his stomach. Perhaps he should have waited a little longer to eat anything. Or perhaps he should have found a useful job somewhere that wasn’t quite so stressful. “You know I only just got here.”
“And so far you are doing just fine.” The woman leaned over to pat him reassuringly on the hand. “But I report my observations of all the workers attached to the warehouse. Just a fair warning.”
Now he knew she was planning on bad mouthing at least Sylvia, if not himself as well. This was the last thing he needed to add to his guilt trip and hangover. “Thanks, I think. Headed home now?”
“Soon as I walk out that door. I cannot understand how you folks operate in this heat all the time.” Tanya fanned herself as she gathered up her purse and started to head to the door.
Ben shrugged. “Some things you can get used to.”
“And some things you can’t. Come on, Jeffrey.”
Jeffrey started to follow Tanya automatically, but caught himself and called after her. “I’ll be along in a moment. Go get the air conditioner started; I forgot my pen back in that last bay.”
“Sometimes I think you’d leave your head behind.” Tanya left the warehouse, letting the door slam behind her.
Ben squinted at the tall man, unsure whether he was absent minded or wanted an excuse to talk. “Your pen is in your shirt pocket.”
Jeffrey shrugged and perched on the edge of Ben’s desk. “I know. I just wanted to let you know that I’m supposed to turn in a report, too. You don’t need to worry about anything. Tanya can be a little overzealous at times, but she’s really good at heart. Particularly when she’s in cooler weather.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” They shook goodbye and Jeffrey had started to walk out when Ben remembered his manners. “Jeff?” The gangly man paused. “Thanks for that.”
“Of course.” And they were gone. The noise level subsided considerably with only the two men in the auction bay murmuring to each other. There was the occasional outburst of joy when they found something interesting, but for the most part, they kept it to a minimum volume.
Ben went to check his email for the tenth time that day, and when there was no message from Detective O’Connor, he checked his phone. Still nothing. The worst feeling through this whole ordeal was always the waiting, when something seemed to be panning out but all he could do was wait for someone else to tell him what was going on when he couldn’t be out there in the field himself. It drove him up the wall. He was just about to go back to the news sites when he heard his name being called from the back of the warehouse.