Lisa Scottoline - Save Me

“I wonder how that happened. I guess he wasn’t experienced on the forklift.”

“No, he was. Very. Drove a forklift at the big plant, too.”

Rose didn’t get it. Mojo told Julie that Bill wasn’t experienced. “So isn’t that strange that he could have an accident, even though he’s so experienced?”

“No, accidents happen to experienced people. I think they happen more, because the experienced guys don’t watch as much. My neighbor is a roofer thirty years, and last week he fell off a ladder and broke his leg.” Juanita shook her head, closing the flaps on the next box. “Still, I was so sad when Bill died.”

“I’m sure. Did anybody see what happened, that night?”

“No, there weren’t any other employees around. We were down to a skeleton crew at night because of what I told you.” Juanita closed another box. “They didn’t find him until it was too late. He bled to death.”

“Yikes. Who found him?” Rose was verifying her facts.

“The Director of Safety. Joe Modjeska. Mojo.” Juanita sent another box on its way. “Great guy.”

Right . “Did you have a lot of interaction with him?”

“Mojo was here all the time. He was in our building so much, we called him Mr. Peanut.” Juanita smiled, moving the next box along. “He resigned but I heard they asked for it. The captain goes down with the ship.”

“Why was Mojo here so much? Did you have more safety problems than the big plant?” Rose didn’t want to sound too inquisitive. “I don’t want to work in a place with a lot of safety problems.”

“Don’t worry, the new guy hardly ever comes by.” Juanita eyed the screen again. “Mojo just liked us, that’s what he said. He thought we were more fun, and we are.” Juanita smiled, and Rose joined her, but she was dying to get a look at the loading dock, to check the rest of Mojo’s account.

“Can I take a bathroom break, boss?” she asked.

Rose went to the loading dock, slowing her pace as if she were just walking through. Two men in phosphorescent lime green uniforms, maybe for greater visibility, drove scuffed orange forklifts, whipping them around the concrete floor. The loading dock was a long, wide area, with flattened cardboard boxes piled on the floor, next to pallets stacked with boxes, shrink-wrapped with plastic sheets, to make a block. On the left was a line of white garage-type doors, with rectangular windows, and two of the doors were closed. The others opened into the containers of tractor-trailers, and at a glance, it looked as if the containers were a series of long, dark rooms.

Rose remembered Mojo had told Julie it was dark in the loading dock, but it was as light here as the factory floor, with panels of exposed fluorescent fixtures attached to a metal support overhead. She wondered if the lighting had been improved after Bill Gigot’s death and made a mental note to ask Juanita. Even if his death was a murder, she was curious if they’d changed the lighting, for show.

Rose stepped aside as one of the men steered a forklift into one of the containers, carrying a pallet of shrink-wrapped boxes. Two large lamps on the cab, like the eyes on a hardshell crab, lit his way, and even if the loading dock had been dark, the lamps would have corrected for that problem. One of the garage doors was wide open, with no truck, and sunlight beamed through it in a slanted shaft. Rose could imagine how a forklift operator could drive too close to the edge of the dock and fall off, but she still didn’t think that was what had happened to Bill Gigot.

Rose headed back to the factory floor to ask Juanita about the lighting, but stopped when she noticed a man approaching her at the screening station. It could have been the supervisor, Scotty, and Rose didn’t want to take any chances of his calling Trish. She did an about-face, walked back toward the locker room, and hurried out of the building.

Five minutes later, she was in her car and driving away from the plant, in the late-day sun. She whipped off her hairnet, glasses, earplugs, and gloves, but she didn’t pull over to take off her uniform. She couldn’t risk getting caught, and her brain was buzzing. So Mojo had lied about Bill Gigot’s death, trying to make it look more like an accident, which only made it more likely to be murder.

She hit the gas, heading into Reesburgh, where traffic was picking up. She didn’t understand why Mojo would have killed Bill Gigot and she wished she could bounce it off of Leo. She glanced at the dashboard clock-5:15. He’d just be getting out of court, so maybe she could reach him. She fished her phone out of her purse, slowed her speed, and when she came to a traffic light, hit L. She waited for it to ring, but the voicemail came on, and she left a message. “Call me when you can. Love you.”

She pressed END, then dialed Annie while the traffic light was still red, but there was no answer there, either. The traffic light turned green, and she cruised forward, trying to decide what to do next. She still didn’t have any evidence to take to the state police, and she wasn’t sure how the murder of Bill Gigot was connected to the school fire, except by Mojo. It was a puzzle with pieces missing, but she felt oddly closer than ever.

She drove ahead, looking through the windshield at the narrow strip of highway, barely seeing the trees with their turning leaves, and her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but didn’t want to miss a return call if Leo or Annie were calling from a different phone, so she picked up. “Hello?”

“Rose?” a woman said, between sobs. “It’s… Kristen.”

“Kristen, what’s the matter?” Rose asked, alarmed. The teacher sounded like she was crying hard.

“I need… help. Please… help me.”

“My God, is it the baby? Are you okay? Kristen, call 911. I can’t get to Lavallette in time.”

“No, it’s not… the baby. I’m so scared. Please, I need to talk to you. There’s nobody else.”

“What is it? I’m here. I can listen.” Rose was already looking for a break in the traffic, to pull over on the shoulder. “What are you afraid of? What’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you over the phone.” Kristen’s crying slowed. “Where are you?”

“In Reesburgh. Where are you? Are you in New Jersey?”

“I can’t say, but… I need to see you. I’ll text you when and where to meet me, after we hang up.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Rose, everything I told you was a lie.”

“What’s going on?” Rose was sitting in her car with Kristen, having convinced the teacher that her appearance was a master disguise. It was after dark, and they were parked at the edge of a cornfield, in the middle of the farm country outside of Reesburgh. The air was cool and fresh, and the only light came from the full moon, her car’s high beams, and the dashboard, which shone upward on Kristen’s young face, showing the wetness to her eyes. Her gray T-shirt and sweats looked thrown on.

“Rose, I lied to you, about everything. Well, not one thing. I am pregnant.”

“Okay.” Rose tried to slow her heart, which was hammering. She’d taken off her Homestead uniform, which she’d had on over her clothes.

“But it’s not my boyfriend’s baby, like I told you.”

“Whose is it?”

“Um…” Kristen hesitated, sighing. “Let me just say, I wish it was his baby, because he’s a great guy. And he didn’t break up with me, I broke up with him.”

“Who is the baby’s father?”

“Paul Martin. Senator Martin.”

Rose felt her mouth drop open. “Are you kidding?”

“No. It’s true.”

“But he’s married, older, and a United States Senator.”