A Taste of Tragedy (24 page)

Aaron’s shoulder throbbed from the wound and blood soaked through his shirt as he ran into the darkness. He could hear footsteps behind him as someone crashed through the brush in pursuit. He ran harder, trying to put distance behind him and his tracker. After several minutes, the sounds grew fainter and eventually disappeared.

He had been running with nothing but the light of the stars and moon to guide him. Houses in this area were few and spaced far apart. Most had purposely avoided permanent exterior lighting to protect the night skies for stargazing. Thankfully, the natural light of a cloudless night was adequate for his initial getaway.

Risking a quick flick of his flashlight for a better look, Aaron realized he had unintentionally increased the distance between him and his car. He scanned the area, trying to get his bearings in order to head toward the road rather than further into the rough country.

Not far ahead, he spotted a rugged arroyo. Remembering he’d seen a small bridge near the trailhead and his car, he hoped this feature would not only provide him with cover, but might lead him back to his vehicle.

Without the aid of his tiny light, he took the most direct route to the edge of the deeply eroded arroyo. The banks were steep, so he sat and slid down into the depression. Locating a group of rocks, he stopped amidst their protective shadows to catch his breath and assess his wound.

His shirt was soaked with blood, but there wasn’t much he could do about that at the moment. He pressed his palm into the bullet hole, hoping to put enough pressure on the wound to stem the flow of blood. The pain in his shoulder and damage to his feet, protected only by his socks, was brutal. He forced the throbbing out of his mind and focused on this situation.

He listened closely for a few moments and heard nothing. He hoped his pursuer had returned for his or her shoes and a flashlight, depending on which person followed. He pulled out his cell, gritting his teeth in agony as he retrieved a number.

“Is it done?” were the first words which came through.

“No. I got a big problem. There was a man and woman in the house with her. I saw the woman and thought I could take care of her, but didn’t see the man until it was too late. I got hit. Everyone, including Morgan, saw my face. I think they must be some sort of law enforcement. Both were armed, and one came after me. I’m about fifteen minutes from where I left my car. If I can get there, where should I go?”

“I’m stunned by your incompetence. I trained you better than that,”
Sofia
said harshly. “How bad were you hit?”

“Shoulder. It’s bleeding a lot. In the daylight, I’m sure I’d be a cinch track. I got to get out of here before the sun comes up.”

“Get to your car. Once you’re on the road, call me back and I’ll have a plan by then.”

“Okay.” Aaron disconnected and stowed his phone. He couldn’t hear anyone behind him.

“Maybe I’ve lost them,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

He stood still for a moment trying to get his breathing under control, but the pain made it difficult. Struggling to his feet, he switched on his light for just a few seconds to get oriented. He clicked it off, and after letting his eyes readjust to the darkness, he headed down the dry creek bed toward the road.

“Was that Aaron? Is Morgan on her way?”
Preston
asked as he rose from the chair in Wiley’s basement office and began to pace.

“Aaron has run into some difficulties,”
Sofia
replied calmly.

“What kind of difficulties?”

Sofia
ignored his frantic questions as she pressed J.R.’s number into her cell. She waited while the phone rang, dreading the call but needing information, and thought back to the first time she and Aaron had met.

He had tried to mug her and she had knocked him on his butt. With her spiked heel pressed into his chest, he didn’t look even the slightest bit rattled. He had been in a number of tough scrapes on Coterie’s behalf over the years, and he had never sounded scared, like now.

“Aaron’s been shot,” she said into the phone. “He doesn’t believe the injury is critical and he’s trying to escape as we speak. Normally, I’d have no doubt he could elude his pursuers, but not only is he injured, he thinks they may be law enforcement. We need to know if the authorities are involved. If so, it changes everything. Keep me apprised of the outcome.”

Sofia
disconnected, leaned back in Wiley’s chair, and studied
Preston
’s nervous movements. The news had clearly shaken him. When he noticed her watching him, he sat back down, subconsciously patted his breast pocket area, and then placed his trembling hand to his side, sliding it under his thigh.

His eyes met hers and she saw fear. The man was so weak it made her wonder how he ever got involved with J.R. in the first place. She supposed it really didn’t matter anymore. For now, she needed to reassure him and keep him calm. An armed and frightened man was a dangerous combination.

“Okay, while we wait for news let’s make sure we’ve done adequate damage control. Has the entire stock of synthetic product been removed and destroyed?”
Sofia
asked.

“Yes, and we always have a small supply of the real thing on hand in case an inspector ever asks for a sample.”

“Good. If law enforcement gets a warrant, they must only find the authentic sweetener. How about documentation, is everything in order?”

“We’ve always ensured the books reflect that we’re purchasing enough ingredients to manufacture all the MFHG3 we would use in a year, if not more. This actually gives us a tax deduction a hundred and fifty times greater than we would get if we reported the cost associated with producing the synthetic. The synthetic is dirt cheap.”

“Good thinking. Now what about Aaron? If he’s caught, I’m not worried that he will speak of Coterie. My main concern is with how you will explain to the authorities why he went after Morgan.”

“She did tell me that she wanted to get rid of him. Maybe he found out, went berserk at the thought of losing his job, and went after her.”

“Hmm…might work,”
Sofia
replied as she softened her expression.

She could see by the way
Preston
’s posture relaxed he was no longer as frightened. His mind likely churned with thoughts on how he could explain Aaron’s behavior to the authorities and emerge from the fiasco unscathed. She’d let him hold on to that illusion if it kept him from cracking under the pressure.

“I’m getting hungry. Show me around. I assume there are plenty of microwavable entrees we can cook.”

As expected,
Preston
jumped at the suggestion, clearly anxious to get up and leave Wiley’s cramped office. In his haste, she noticed he left his cell phone sitting on the corner of the desk. She picked it up and slipped it into her pocket.

“We’ve got a mammoth freezer full of fantastic options. This way.”

As they entered the main manufacturing area,
Preston
flipped on a few lights to allow them to navigate down the line safely. He explained how the raw product arrived at one end of the facility and emerged at the other end of the linear plant as entrees or desserts. When they reached the end of the line,
Preston
stopped and admired the walk-in freezer.

“We just had this baby installed a couple of years ago when we figured out how to manufacture enough MFHG3 to keep up with demand for our Healthy and Delicious Foods product line. This beauty is the best on the market. It’s got four-inch thick, non-CFC foamed-in-place insulation, is USDA approved, it can maintain temps as low as ten below, and has an overhead door large enough to drive a forklift inside for moving pallets of product.”

“Impressive,”
Sofia
replied, trying to look interested.

Glancing around, she noticed they were close to another set of loading docks. Obviously, once the product was thoroughly frozen, it would be a simple and efficient process to move it from the freezer to waiting trucks using the forklift parked outside the freezer’s overhead door.

She watched
Preston
grab a jacket from a peg near the door and slip it on. He didn’t bother to zip it up, and it didn’t look remotely adequate for a very long duration inside the freezer.

He opened the smaller standard-sized door leading into the freezer.
Sofia
stood next to him, examining the locking mechanism. The handle pulled down to open the door. She also noted the large assortment of brooms, several shovels, an ice pick, and a variety of other tools of varying height hung on the wall nearby.

“As soon as the entrees and meals are packaged, a conveyor belt moves them over there and deposits them in a single layer so they’ll freeze quickly,” Preston said as he pointed to rows of narrow racks. “Once frozen solid, the cartons move on to the next area where they are boxed in cases and labeled. We still have to load the cases onto pallets by hand, so the forklift can transport them to the dock. Thankfully, our new machinery ensures the workers spend as little time in the freezer stacking boxes onto the pallets as possible.”

Standing just outside the door, the cold stung
Sofia
’s cheeks. She was amazed at the sheer volume of entrees and desserts efficiently stored in the twenty-four foot by sixty-foot freezer. She had never seen a freezer even remotely this large.

“So what are you in the mood for? Chicken, fish, vegetarian, beef… You name it, we’ve got it.”

“No offense, but is there anything without MFHG3?”

“That small section on the far end is where we keep a supply of items not in the Healthy and Delicious Foods line which would contain regular old sugar. We don’t have near the market for those, which is why there isn’t much stock on hand.”

Sofia
smiled. “I’ll have a fattening beef entrée and something chocolate.”

Preston
stepped into the freezer and quickly made his way across the large expanse. He snatched two items off the racks.

“How about meatloaf and chocolate cake?”

“I think I just lost my appetite,”
Sofia
stated as she shut the door, turned the lock, and quickly wedged a scoop shovel under the handle. Even if there was a lock override inside, which was likely, the handle couldn’t be pushed down while the shovel held it up.

Sofia
had already noticed the overhead door had exterior pins inserted near the bottom. She assumed the purpose was to keep the door from opening accidently and ruining the product. Conveniently, it would also keep the door from opening from the inside. The small slot for the conveyor belt entering the freezer was too small to allow a man to fit through and was currently sealed from the outside to prevent loss of cold air. There was no other way out.

She could detect his attempts to turn the handle as the shovel shuddered, but it held firm. Only the faint sound of his muffled screams could be heard through the thick insulation as she walked away.

* * *

Preston shook the handle of the freezer door, but it didn’t budge. He moved to the overhead bay and tried to lift it before remembering the pins inserted on the outside kept the door from accidently rising up and to prevent even the slightest exposed gap between the door and the floor.

Returning to the main entrance, he pounded on the steel until his fists were raw, screaming
Sofia
’s name over and over again.
 

“Please don’t let me die in here. I’ll do anything.” With the thickness of the insulation, he doubted she could hear him, but he continued to scream until he was too hoarse to continue.

“What do I do, what do I do? Do I keep moving to generate heat or do I sit in a corner and huddle to preserve heat?’
Preston
asked himself as he paced near the front of the freezer.

Deciding it would be best to keep moving, he made laps back and forth down the length of the freezer. His ears and cheeks stung from the cold, and his lungs ached from inhaling the frigid air as he continued to pace. His dress slacks did little to combat the ten-below temperatures assaulting him.

He wasn’t sure how long he pounded on the door and begged for mercy or how long he had been walking, but his legs were tired and he had no feeling left in his toes. He slowed his stride as he reached the front of the freezer and pounded on the door several more times before his strength waned.

Looking down, he noticed he still hadn’t zipped his coat. He stopped and grasped the brass tab, but his fingers were too numb to function. The more he tried to zip up, the more he realized he was doomed.

Giving up, he pulled the edges of his coat tight and crossed his arms in front of his chest to keep it shut. His body shook and his teeth chattered. He stumbled toward the corner, deciding it was time to sit down before he fell down.

“I
neva
trusted that
wich
,” he slurred. “I
shoulda
may her get her own foo.”
Preston
closed his eyes and pictured Morgan’s face. She was so pretty and kind, unlike Sofia and his wife. His wife would be happy now, because she would be even richer than they already were once cashing in his life insurance. She was pretty too, but Morgan was smart. They could have had a lot of fun together if it weren’t for Stan and Aaron.

Stan.

He wondered what really happened to Stan, but he was kind of glad no one told him. Maybe Stan really did have a drug habit and it was suicide.

“Nah, it was Aaron, always Aaron. Aaron bad. No good, Aaron played golf.” He tried to open his eyes, but it felt like his lids were frozen shut. He strained to think clearly. The early shift surely was only several hours away
.

If I can just hold on until the workers arrive and—
Did
I find the interior safety lock release?
He couldn’t remember. Maybe he should go look for it. But he was so tired.

It’s really not so bad in here after all. I’m not shivering anymore, and I don’t feel so cold. Maybe I’ll just sleep for a few minutes and then…