Page 53 of The 6:20 Man
CHAPTER
27
THE ADMIN CUBICLES UP HERE were not occupied. These folks simply earned a salary, no more and no less, regardless of how hard they worked. So unless there was some sort of apocalypse, they came in at nine and left at five or close to it.
Jerry Myers was up a ladder down one of the halls. The suits hadn’t arrived en masse yet here either, Devine knew. He would have heard fingers clacking on computer keyboards behind the closed doors. Most of his kind got in around eight but didn’t leave until around nine at night. And there were no watercooler breaks at Cowl and Comely. It was pedal to the metal until lights out.
“Mr. Myers?”
The man turned on the ladder and looked down at him. He was about Devine’s height, barrel-chested and strongly built, around forty-five with a thick head of dark hair.
“Yeah?”
“I’m Travis Devine. I work here. I was a friend of Sara Ewes.”
Myers finished with the lights, clipped the cover shut, and climbed down. “That was the worst damn day of my life,” he muttered.
“I bet. It must have been traumatic as hell.”
Myers folded up the ladder and picked up a box of light tubes. He looked at Devine and said, “You want something?”
“Sam told me about you finding her and then mentioned you were up here replacing some lights.”
“Okay, so?”
Devine thought quickly, realizing he was close to blowing this whole thing. “Like I said, I was a friend of hers. I still can’t believe she’s dead. First they said suicide, and now it’s murder. I mean, what the hell, right?”
Myers looked sympathetically at him now. “Yeah, it was a gut punch for everybody. It sure as hell looked like a suicide to me, but what do I know? I never found a dead body before.”
Devine picked up on this. “You found her around eight thirty or so?”
“Something like that, yeah. Told the cops that.”
He started to walk down the hall and Devine kept pace with him as he thought of his next question.
“Sam said you came to the lobby to tell him and that he called the police.”
“That’s right. I was shaking like a baby. Could barely hit the elevator button or swipe my card through.”
“What’d you go in the room for?” asked Devine.
“Look, I already told the cops all this.”
“I know,” said Devine quickly. “It’s . . . it’s just that we were friends and this has really shaken me to my core. I just want to know some of what you know. It might help me process all this.”
Myers studied him curiously for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, I can understand that. The fact is, I went in there to get a damn printer cartridge, if you can believe that. Got a message that one of the big printers in the business center on that floor was low and needed to be replaced. Opened the door and there she was. My ticker must be strong, otherwise I’d be dead.”
“I bet. So is that room normally kept locked?”
“I don’t know about normally. I know I had to use my key to unlock it that morning.”
The ladder banged against Myers’s leg.
“Here, I’ll take that,” said Devine. He relieved the man of the piece of equipment.
“Thanks.”
“Was it a Detective Hancock who told you that Sara had been murdered? Black guy in his forties?”
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