Rafe—
Bubba and I are loading boards onto pallets for a shipment that goes out this afternoon. It’s monotonous work, and my mind wanders to Sawyer’s daughter.
Seems I can’t get her out of my head, no matter what I do.
Bubba’s right. I need to stay clear of her. The last thing I need is to let any crazy ideas about the boss’s daughter get into my head. We come from two different worlds. A relationship with her is out of the question. It would never happen.
So why am I staring at her damn window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her?
What I saw last night should curb all ideas she’d want a man like me. Not after seeing her drive that goddamn sports car.
“Hey?” Bubba draws my attention. “Ed said you worked late last night.”
“Yeah.” I turn to stacking boards. “Thompson wanted me to stay and change the drive belt on the other forklift. The thing was a bitch to get off.”
“That old one we never use? What the fuck for?”
I shrug. “Hell, if I know. Maybe he was trying to fuck with me some more. He knew I had plans.”
“Well, you’ll get some overtime, at least.”
I roll my eyes. “Wouldn’t count on it. He’ll find some way to make sure that doesn’t happen, even if he has to send me home early one day.” I work for a few minutes, then pause. “Hey, Bubba?”
“Yeah?”
“There was a guy up at the house last night. Drove an expensive sports car. Took the girl for a ride.”
“Yeah? So?”
“You know of any reason Charlie would have for sneaking up there and talking to the guy before he left?”
Bubba straightens. “Charlie went up to the house?”
“Yep. He hid in the shadows, lurking like some stalker. When he just stood there smoking a cigarette, I turned to go back to the mill, but when I heard the roar of that sports car returning, I hesitated.”
“What happened?”
“Charlie waited while the guy walked the girl up to the door and kissed her goodnight.”
Bubba chuckles. “So, the boss’s daughter had a date, huh?”
“I don’t give a damn about that,” I protest.
Bubba isn’t fooled. “Sure, ya don’t.”
“Look, when the dude returned to his car, he paused and lit a cigarette, like he was killing time. I started to wonder if the girl was coming back out, but then Charlie emerged from the shadows and approached the car.”
“And?”
“I was too far to hear them, but it looked like the guy passed Charlie an envelope—a thick envelope, like maybe it had a stack of bills inside.”
Bubba cocks his head. “You think Charlie’s being paid to do something?”
“Yeah. But what?”
“Hell, I don’t know. Look, Sherlock, keep your head down and do your work. You get involved in whatever Charlie is up to, and it’s gonna go bad. He already tried to set you up for theft, didn’t he?”
He’s right. It’s none of my goddamn business.
“Ah, hell,” Bubba mumbles and tugs his work gloves off, flinging them on the ground.
“What?”
“Now you’ve got me wondering what the hell is goin’ on. Now I ain’t gonna be able to get it off my mind until I know what it is.”
I grin, knowing he won’t let it rest. “Got any ideas, Watson?”
He points a finger at me. “You’re too smart for your own damn good. You’re gonna get us both fired.”
“So, what do we do?”
“Keep your eyes and ears open.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of snooping around his office. Try and find that envelope.”
Bubba’s eyes pin mine, and he lifts his arms wide. “He already accused you of stealing.”
“Right. That’s why you’ve gotta do it.”
“Me? You son-of-a-bitch. Why should I put my neck on the line?”
“Because you want to know what the fuck is going on as much as I do.”
Bubba stares in the direction of the office. “Fine. Then we both do it.”
“Tonight?”
“No. First let me talk to Cora Lee.”
“Who is Cora Lee?”
“The woman in the office. Hell, she processes your paychecks, boy.”
“I’ve seen her. I just didn’t know her name, dumbass. What do you think she’s gonna tell you?”
He shrugs. “Don’t know ‘til I try. I’ll flirt with the old broad. See if I can find out anything.”
“Yeah, sure. You’re a real charmer. This oughta be good.”
“You want to do it?”
I raise my hands. “Nope. Give it your best shot, Romeo. This I’ve gotta see.”
We finish moving the pallets and load a couple of trucks. When lunch rolls around, Charlie heads out in one of the company pickup trucks, Sawyer Lumber emblazoned on the door.
Bubba and I sit in the parking lot on the open tailgate of Bubba’s Ford F150.
I’m eating a sandwich I brought, and he’s smoking a cigarette. Once the truck pulls out, he tosses it in the gravel and hops down.
“Wish me luck.”
I watch him enter the building, then glance at the time.
He’s in there forever, and I wonder what the hell he’s doing.
When the mail van pulls in, I push off the tailgate, making a beeline for it. I grin and extend my hand. “I’ll take that up to the office for you.”
“Thanks, man.” The postal worker hands me a stack of mail, then drives off.
I use it as an excuse to walk into the building.
When I come through the door, Cora Lee is sitting behind her desk, eating a chocolate chip cookie, her lunch spread out before her. Bubba is sitting in a plastic chair next to the desk, also munching on a cookie.
They both turn their heads when the bell above the door jingles.
I hold up the stack of envelopes. “Mail came.”
“Oh, thank you.” Cora Lee holds her hand out, and I pass it over. Her gaze drags over me. “Would you like a cookie?”
“She baked them herself,” Bubba adds. “Best cookies I’ve ever tasted.” He gives me a wink, and I wonder if his plan is working.
She passes me one, and I tip my head. “Thank you, ma’am.”
I slip out and return to the truck.
Twenty minutes later, Bubba joins me, lighting up another smoke and leaning on the side of his truck. “You set me back a good ten minutes, moron. You and your dumb mail stunt.”
I grin. “Find out anything?”
“She knew all about the guy in the sports car. Apparently, he’s some rich dude. Owns several vineyards. Cora Lee said Charlie told her he was interested in buying the mill.”
“Buying the mill?”
“Yep.”
“Is Sawyer lookin’ to sell?”
“Not that I know of. Hell, this place has been in the Sawyer family since the beginning. They’ve owned this land for generations. Can’t see why a man would sell his family’s legacy.” He shrugs. “But what do I know about rich people?”
“So, what’s Charlie doing with the guy?”
“I started here three months before you. Charlie was the foreman then, but according to Cora Lee, he’s only worked here two months longer than me.”
“No wonder he doesn’t know what he’s fucking doing.”
“She led me to believe Mr. Sawyer hired Charlie at this guy’s suggestion. Guess he vouched for him or something.”
“You get this guy’s name?”
“Alex Powers.”
“Why the fuck would Alex Powers be slipping Charlie a payoff?”
Bubba folds his arms and rocks on his boots. “Inside information, maybe? I mean if he’s wanting to buy the place…”
“A lot of shit’s been breaking down lately. You find that odd?”
He shrugs. “Guess so. You think Powers is paying Charlie to make that happen?”
“A run of bad luck might push Sawyer toward selling.”
“Man, it’s like court intrigue around here.”
I huff a laugh. “Court intrigue? You mean like the royal court?”
“I read, asshole.”
I chuckle harder. “Sure. Sure.”
“Come on, let’s get back to work before we get fired.”
It’s late in the day, and I’m helping a couple of other guys load one of the trucks. Three more trucks are lined up on the shoulder of the highway waiting for a spot to pull in.
“We sure got ‘em stacked up today, huh?” Ed mutters. He’s one of the older men who works here and mostly keeps to himself.
“Sure do. I’ve never seen so many trucks scheduled back-to-back like this, have you?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“Rafe, come with me.”
I twist to see Charlie Thompson already walking away, and I sigh and slap Ed on the shoulder. “You’re on your own. Sorry.”
“Goddamn it,” Ed mutters.
I follow Charlie to the other side of the office, where Bubba waits by a company pickup truck.
Bubba stands with his arms folded, not looking any happier than me.
I can only imagine what shit job Thompson’s about to give us. He’s had it in for both of us ever since the theft incident. Any other time, I’d have quit a long time ago. But right now, I need this job.
Just stay out of trouble. Probation’s up at Christmas, then you’ll walk.
Charlie Thompson puts his hands on his hips. “Take the pickup and go up to the house. They need some muscle.”
Bubba frowns, glancing up at the big house on the hill. “You mean Mr. Sawyer’s house?”
“Yes, Einstein. There’s a delivery… a grand piano. Move whatever they tell you. I don’t know where the hell they want it, so you’ll have to ask Tori or Ruth.”
“You want us to move a Grand Piano?” I ask.
“No, dumbass,” he snaps. “They need someone to move the furniture out of the way to make room for the piano they’re delivering.”
I can’t help wondering if good ol’ Charlie is setting us up again.
Bubba shakes his head, probably thinking the same thing.
“You got a problem, Bubba?”
“I’m pretty sure Miss Ruth ain’t gonna want me in that house. She’s given me a tongue lashing just for getting too close to the fence.”
“I don’t give a damn. Look, Sawyer himself asked me on his way out to send up two men. You morons are all I’ve got available right now. So, get the hell up to the house.”
Bubba and I head to the pickup.
“Well, let’s get it over with,” Bubba mutters. “Fuck, I dread facin’ that puckered-up aunt of his.”
As I slide into the passenger seat and slam the door, all I can think about is Sawyer’s daughter dripping wet in the red bikini.
After the acid words we’d thrown at each other that day, I imagine she won’t be too pleased to see me again.
A big box truck marked Emerson Piano is parked in the drive, and the front door is propped wide, but there are no movers around.
We go up the porch, and I feel out of place already, and I haven’t even stepped inside. Bubba goes to enter, but I grab his arm and point to the doormat.
He backs up and wipes his muddy boots, and I do the same.