Page 22 of Cold Curses
“Your boss suspicious?” Theo asked.
“Nature of the work,” said another of the employees. She had light brown skin and cropped curly gray hair. “I’m Laverne Foley.”
“What nature is that, Ms. Foley?” Theo asked.
“Big place, a lot of stuff. Sometimes employees, or just people looking for a freebie, try to steal merchandise. Mr. Buckley runs a tight ship. He pays good, but he doesn’t keep thieves on the payroll.”
“His men have any trouble lately?” Theo asked.
She glanced at her colleagues, got shakes of the head. “Don’t know of anything, but we probably wouldn’t. They’re very quiet men, if you get what I’m saying.”
“Tight-lipped,” Mike offered, and she nodded.
“How about unusual things around the warehouse?” I asked. “Or the port, generally?”
“River trolls had a picnic in June,” Mike said contemplatively. “Big people, them.”
The trolls lived beneath the bridges along the Chicago River.
“They are,” I agreed. “How about in the last couple of weeks?”
“Nothing I can think of. Some bigwigs came through yesterday, but they were human, I figure, so…” Laverne shrugged it off. But it had been unusual enough for her to notice.
“Bigwigs?” I asked.
“Big white car,” she said. “One of those new, sleeked-up models with autodrive. New York plates.”
“You see the occupants?”
“Two white guys,” Laverne said. “Humans. But I didn’t get a close look. Just saw the car when it went by. Attracted attention.”
Which had been a mistake if they were connected to the killer. “Why did you think they were human?”
Laverne opened her mouth, closed it again, contemplated. “I guess I just assumed. They didn’t do any juju. No fangs or fur.”
Demons, of course, could look very human.
Theo failed to hold back a snort. “Laverne,” he said, “you’ve just summarized supernaturals perfectly. What time did you see the car?”
“Maybe noon? Or right after?”
“After,” said a third man. “We’d just finished lunch.”
“Right!” Laverne said with a nod.
“Your name, sir?” Theo asked.
“They call me Brick.”
Little surprise, given how solid he looked. Nearly as big as a refrigerator, with suntanned skin, freckles, and mercilessly parted silver hair.
“So that was before the fire?” I asked.
Brick frowned, scratched his head. “I think so. Security guys will know. They have to keep a log.”
Theo nodded. “The CPD is talking to them. Tell me more about the guys from New York.”
* * *
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