Forgotten Boxes (13 page)

“Got a truck full of their boxes right now,” Harry said, hitching
his thumb over his shoulder.

“Oh.” The young woman looked crestfallen.

Something prompted Harry to say, “What about M. Ash?”

“I-I’m afraid not, sir.”

“Rose and Company?”

Evelyn’s eyes filled with shame. “I’ll try to do better, sir,”
she promised. “I’ll learn all our customers’ names, even the ones that only ship
with us occasionally. Please give me another chance, Mr. Tillman. I need this job.
“

For the first time, it occurred to Harry that he had the authority
to hire and fire their employees. Theoretically, anyway.

Unease nibbled at Harry’s sub-conscious, overshadowing his brief
head-rush of power. If he recognized these names as steady customers, shouldn’t
the woman in billing know them, as well? Now that he thought about it, he delivered
packages from these same three customers on almost a daily basis. Weekly, at the
very least. It was doubtful they paid each and every time they dropped off a box.
Surely they were billed a lump sum on a monthly basis, particularly with whatever
that preferred program crap was, the one they said he came up with.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you pull their files and we’ll see
what kind of payment arrangements are set up?” Harry suggested.

“Yes, yes, I could do that.”

“I don’t want to see anyone getting in trouble over this,” Harry
continued, trying his best to sound presidential. “Could be a problem with the shipping
department not giving you the right information. For now, let’s keep this between
the two of us. We won’t say anything to the others, not until we figure out what
is going on.”

“Oh, yes, sir, I think that is an excellent idea!” Evelyn gushed.
Her relief was obvious. “I’ll go right in now and check it out, sir.”

“You do that. Might be a good time, with Brenda and Galano out
for the day and Debarge holed up in his office. What’s he doing in there, by the
way?”

“As far as I can tell, he’s been on the phone all morning, sir.”

“You run along now, and I’ll drop these letters off at the post
office. I’ll check back about those files Monday morning.”

Winter, 1984

By that Monday morning, Harry had forgotten all about the missing
billing. He made it through his deliveries that day with time to spare. Enough,
in fact, to drop by Big G’s for a game of poker. He won big that night, and left
with a pocketful of crisp new bills. It wasn’t often that he outwitted the other
regulars at the table, but he was hot that night, laying down one winning hand after
the other.

It wasn’t until he was on his way home, his head abuzz with cheap
beer and an inflated ego, that he remembered Nell. Hells bells, he had intended
to take her out for dinner tonight! Well, too late for that now. But he could stop
in at Dan’s and buy her a little something. He had the cash.

He bought her a big jug of that dark syrup, the kind she used
for cooking. He added a bag of the candy she favored and even found a book on flowers.
Nell loved her flowers. Had them growing all over the yard in the summertime, in
fact. Harry gave the clerk two of the twenties from his winnings and hurried out
to the car, eager to get home before it snowed again.

On Tuesday morning, Harry shuffled in the office to get his schedule
and re-fill his coffee thermos. On bitter cold days like this, the jug Nell sent
with him was half-empty by the time he got to the office, but young Evelyn made
almost as good a cup as his wife.

“Oh, Mr. Tillman?” Evelyn came up to him casually at the coffee
pot. “Here’s that information you asked for, sir.” She slipped him the folder without
making eye contact, her manner deliberately detached, but her hand trembled in a
show of nerves.

“Oh, uh, thank you, Miss Evelyn.” He stuffed the file under his
arm and hoped no one else had noticed.

He carried the file back to his desk, pretending this was not
the first time he was included in the inner-workings of the office. He rather liked
the feeling of importance it gave him.

Flipping the folder open, he found only blank paper within. On
the back sheet of paper, there was a hand-written note.

I found no records of these particular customers. I am sorry,
but it appears they have never been billed. I double-checked bank deposits and mailing
lists, but these names are nowhere in our files.

Harry frowned as he folded the sheet of paper and slipped it
inside his coat pocket. He was shoving away from his desk when Brenda appeared,
her smile particularly bright. “Did you need help with something, Mr. Tillman?”

“Help?” he asked blankly. No one had asked him that before.

Her eyes darted to the file on his desk. “I thought perhaps I
could answer whatever questions you had, sir. Being new, Evelyn may not be up to
speed on quite everything just yet.”

Something in her sharp gaze made Harry uncomfortable. “No, she
knew where we kept the extra paper,” he assured her.

“Oh. Oh, very well.”

“Say, Brenda, what exactly is her job, by the way?”

“Evelyn is in charge of Accounts Receivable and secretarial duties.”
Brenda’s words were stiff and cautious.

“So you do everything else?”

Brenda’s entire countenance changed. “I am responsible for Accounts
Payable, Payroll, and general bookkeeping.” Her austere posture and clipped, tight
words were best suited for a court martial.

“Bank deposits too, I’d guess.”

“That is correct.”

Harry studied her for a moment. The woman should never play poker,
he determined; too many tells. His questions made her nervous, which could only
mean she had something to hide. Harry enjoyed seeing the normally assured woman
squirm under his gaze. He wasn’t accustomed to such power, particularly here in
the office. For the first time, he actually
felt
like the president of a
company.

But he had a job to do, he remembered. His real job, out on the
road delivering packages. No time for fun here in the office.

“Well, I think you deserve a raise,” he announced unexpectedly.
He chuckled when he saw the way she visibly relaxed. For a split second, her shoulders
sagged in relief and her body went limp. She recovered almost instantly, putting
on her professional face once more as she met his eyes for the first time since
his questions began. “You do so much around here,” he went on to say. “Miss Evelyn
can learn from a good example like you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tillman.”

Harry nodded smartly. “Thank you, Brenda.” He tipped his fingers
to his cap as he, quite presidentially, dismissed the woman by being the first to
walk away.

No doubt, she would open the file behind his back, but Harry
sauntered down the hall with the heady feel of power boosting his steps.

***

January blurred into February, amid near-record amounts of snow
and cold. Business at Kingdom Parcel was still booming, even as the weather took
its toll on most local vendors. With people’s tendency to stay inside during the
deep of winter, Harry saw nothing odd about making so many curbside deliveries.
He didn’t mind the cold so much himself, but he understood why others didn’t want
to brave the harsh elements of a Vermont winter. He was happy to oblige, forging
through the snow-banked roads and the tricky mountain passes to hand over their
anticipated boxes.

Many of the boxes he delivered were shipped from the mysterious
M. Ash, H.T. Motors, and Rose and Company. Evelyn updated him every so often, insisting
she still found no trace of their files. Harry concluded that, given the importance
of their accounts, Brenda most likely handled their billing. Probably one of the
perks he thought up for being a Preferred Customer, or so Galano would claim if
he questioned him.

Instead of saying anything to his partners, Harry did a little
quiet investigating of his own. He went by the address shown for M. Ash, wanting
to see for himself what kind of business this Ash fellow ran. To his surprise, the
address given turned out to be an empty lot, filled with only a few ash and pines.

The address for Rose and Company did not exist. Harry could not
find it on any map, or anyone in town who had ever heard of the business.

H.T. Motors listed only a post office box for its address. Each
time he was in the area, Harry took a few extra minutes to drive through the streets,
searching for a business by that name. When he inquired about the motor company
locally, no one seemed to know what he was talking about.

The mystery of the elusive companies taxed Harry’s mind. While
it gave him something to think about while behind the windshield, staring through
the nothingness of falling snow, it created a sense of unease deep in his belly.
Something was not right. In fact, his gut told him that something stunk rotten.
He just couldn’t figure out what it was.

For once in his life, things were going great for Harold Tillman.
He was president of a thriving business. The local Chamber of Commerce pronounced
his company ‘New Business of the Year’. On the occasions when he finished his rounds
early and slipped down to Big G’s, he seemed to be on an uncanny winning streak.
His life was finally running smoothly. So why did he feel this overall sense of
doom?

Because, Harry knew, his life never ran this smooth. Success
never came this easily for him. And the stark and bitter truth of it was that none
of these new successes was of his own making. It came as a bit of a surprise, even
to him, but it appeared that Harold Tillman might actually have a conscience.

He might have the title of president, but it was an empty moniker.
He had no control over the business. That little gold trophy was awfully pretty,
awfully nice for his ego, but it held no more value than the plastic it was made
of. And even Harry knew he was not
that
good of a poker player! No matter
what hand he drew, no matter how terrible the cards, he somehow won hand after hand.
With unfailing cheer, his opponents handed over their cash. They were honored to
play against such a brilliant master, even at the expense to their own wallet.

Something definitely smelled rotten.

Rotten or not, Harry was smart enough to enjoy the spoils of
his unexpected success while it lasted. He splurged on small luxuries, most of which
he found right there at Dan’s Market. With his crazy schedule, it was about the
only place he could shop, and the store really did carry a varied selection of goods.

It was a Friday afternoon, and once again, Harry got off work
too late to make it by the bank. He stopped by Dan’s, hoping he could cash his paycheck
there. He might even surprise Nell by buying a few steaks from the meat counter,
he mused, ambling inside the store while brushing the snow from his shoulders.

He made his selections, adding a little liquid reward for himself,
and stood in line at the dual registers. When the second register became free and
it was his turn, the cashier greeted him with a bright smile.

“Why, hello, Mr. Tillman. How are you this evening?”

“Evelyn?” he asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Just working,” she responded brightly, ringing up his purchases
with deft fingers.

Harry scowled. Her moonlighting here didn’t reflect favorably
on Kingdom Parcel. “Don’t we pay you enough?”

Evelyn laughed. “It’s not that, Mr. Tillman. But my family owns
Dan’s, and sometimes they expect me to pull my share of the load.”

“Why, I didn’t know your folks owned this place,” Harry said,
his face breaking into a jovial grin. “I shop here all the time!”

“And we appreciate it, sir,” she replied in kind. “Will that
be cash or charge, Mr. Tillman?”

“Actually, I was hoping I could cash my paycheck here.”

Evelyn stalled. They often cashed checks, but she doubted they
had enough in the till to cash a check for a company
president
.

“It’s just a small one,” he offered, sensing her hesitance.

“Okay, then,” she agreed.

“Not all hundreds,” Harry requested. “Give me a few tens and
twenties for spending cash.”

“Of course. And you’re in luck. A customer just came from the
bank and gave me a whole handful of these nice new twenties.” She counted the crisp
bills out with ease. “Will that be all, Mr. Tillman?”

“I think so, Miss Evelyn. Unless you have anything new to report
to me?”

Her brow furrowed immediately. She glanced behind him, seeing
no one waiting. “Do-Do you have a minute, Mr. Tillman?” she asked nervously.

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

Evelyn twisted a key in the electronic register and turned to
her co-worker. “Judy, I’m taking a quick break.” Without waiting for an answer,
she stepped around the counter and motioned for Harry to follow her.

She led him to a small table along the backside of the room,
near a coffee urn bellowing steam. “Coffee, Mr. Tillman?” she offered as they passed
by.

“No thanks.” He had something stronger in mind, and it was nestled
right here inside his bag.

Once seated, Evelyn seemed at a loss on where to begin. After
a strained silence and a couple of false starts, her voice trembled as she began
with a hesitant, “Mr. Tillman, have you- have you noticed any… strange happenings
at the warehouse?”

“Strange, how?”

“I-I don’t mean to be speaking out of turn…”

“Just say what’s on your mind.” His voice came out gruffer than
intended, roughened by the sudden thunder building in his gut.

Taking a deep breath of courage into her lungs, the young woman
squared her shoulders and spoke in a determined voice. “There’s been several things,
actually. Last week I had to take a message to Mr. Galano. I found him out in the
warehouse, coming from that room you keep chained and locked. He had something all
over his hands, some sort of glue, or something. He acted almost… guilty. Like he
shouldn’t have been in the room.”

“No, no, he has permission to be in there.” Harry tried to sound
authoritative.
He’s probably the only one with that privilege, to be truthful.

“While I was waiting, I-I may have noticed some of the boxes
on the shipping tables. And you’re right, sir, almost every single one of them was
shipped from H.T. Motors. But the thing is, Mr. Tillman, I can’t find a trace of
the business anywhere. Not with the Better Business Bureau, not with the phone company,
not with the city, not even with county tax records. Nowhere, sir.”

“They do seem to be a might elusive,” Harry agreed. He had never
thought to check with the BBB or tax records.

“There’s more, sir. Have you…have you ever seen trucks dropping
off all those packages?”

“No, but from what I understand, they mostly arrive overnight.
That’s why we added the night crew, to handle late deliveries.”

Evelyn still looked doubtful. She twisted the sleeve of her sweater
in her hand as her eyes traveled a nervous path around the room. “I-I’m probably
being silly, sir, but something just feels… strange. Yesterday, I found Brenda at
your desk, going through your drawers. And-And I overheard a conversation…”

Stomach roiling, Harry prompted her when she faltered. “And?”

“Mr. Debarge was on the telephone as I passed by his office.
I-I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, honestly I didn’t.”

“Just tell me what you heard!”

“He-He told the person on the other end that everything was going
as planned. Everything was in place. He said he had the perfect setup. I heard him
mention … the word patsy. And…And I thought I heard him mention your name, Mr. Tillman.”
She glanced up at him with timid eyes. “I-I could have been mistaken!” she added
hastily.

Harry sat still for a long moment, digesting the news. So this
was what was stinking.

When her boss merely sat there, not saying a word, tears welled
in the young woman’s eyes. “Please don’t fire me, Mr. Tillman,” Evelyn whispered.
“I have three young boys at home. My husband broke his leg, and I need this job
to pay a few bills. I didn’t mean to snoop. I didn’t mean to be eavesdropping.”