CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - 2

The trip to the main office took about twenty minutes. It was several miles from the downtown area of the capital of Oregon. Things had been moving so quickly, Izzie hadn’t noticed the spectacular mountain ranges earlier, with Mount Hood and its snow-capped peaks looming in the distance. Impressive. Izzie could only imagine how it would look up close. She had been in and out of Portland a few times, but never spent more than a day or two. Not enough time to see anything worthwhile. Maybe after this gig, she and the Sisters could have a weekend retreat somewhere. She snapped out of her musings. They were turning into the S.E.I. complex.

Izzie admired the two-story office building that looked more like a chalet than a commercial shop. It was meticulously landscaped with rocks and trees. Something she would have designed herself, had she been given the opportunity. The wood-plank sign spelled out S PANGLER E NTERPRISES I NCORPORATED . Smaller letters listed the divisions: Cascade Inns, Interstate Trucking, Geiser Creek Lumber and Millwork. A wide, paved roadway led to the millworks toward the back of the property, where there was a large parking area for trucks. Several other roadways led in various directions. There was no question it was a multi-million-dollar company.

Izzie and Kathryn parked in the “visitor” section, while Benjamin and Oliver parked in their named spots: Benjamin Spangler, Oliver Spangler. No titles, just their names, an equal distance from the front door.

They gathered at the front entrance. “Kathryn, there is also a private entrance to the apartment. I’ll show it to you later,” Benjamin said.

Oliver quickly sent a text to Dickie: Did you do it?

Dickie replied: Almost done. Ten more minutes .

Oliver figured he could keep everyone busy touring the main floor and introducing the new people. His mood brightened. He held the door open for everyone else. “After you.” He swept his arm toward the door. Benjamin gave him a strange look. “What? I’m trying to be polite.”

Benjamin smirked. There was something going on with his brother, but he dreaded finding out.

Benjamin let Oliver take the lead. “Right this way.”

The reception area was paneled in a light oak with a black slate floor. It had twelve-foot ceilings, with several indoor ponytail palms along the walls. It had a feeling of openness.

A young man in his twenties was sitting behind a wood and stone counter. Behind him was the company logo with back lighting. The letters appeared to be floating. Simple and tasteful.

Isabelle totally approved.

“Good morning, sirs.” He gave them a wide smile and stood.

“Hello, Robert. These are our two new hires. They will be staying on until Dad gets back.”

“How is Mr. Spangler doing?” the young man asked earnestly.

“He’s doing well. Should be going home tomorrow. Thanks for asking,” Oliver quickly answered.

“I am very happy to hear it, sir. We were quite dismayed when we heard the news.” The young man had a very articulate way of speaking. Probably private school .

“This is Kat.” He gestured in her direction. Then turned. “And this is Isabelle Fleming. Kat is going to be our on-call driver, and Isabelle will be overseeing the Cascade properties.”

“Welcome. It’s a pleasure to meet you. If there is anything I can do, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“Robert is like an anchor here. Keeps us in line.” Oliver was being effusive.

“I keep track of how many times they visit the kitchen.” Robert grinned.

“I thought we were keeping that between the two of us,” Oliver joked . It’s so fake. Everyone was getting slightly uncomfortable with Oliver’s ebullient behavior. And so was he. He was beginning to perspire. He shouldn’t have snorted on his way there. He excused himself. “Pardon me. Benjamin, can you take Kat and Isabelle around? I’m feeling a bit off.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He turned quickly and headed to the men’s room down the slate-tiled hallway.

“Is he going to be alright?” Kat asked.

“He has blood-sugar issues,” Benjamin said. And it was true, or so he thought. “Come, follow me.”

Kat and Isabelle waved to Robert. “Nice to meet you!”

“Welcome aboard,” Robert called out.

Kat was trying to place the young man’s accent. “Michigan?”

“Very good!” Benjamin replied.

“After all the years of being on the road, I have come across dozens upon dozens of accents. I can’t even count how many Southern accents there are,” Kat replied.

Benjamin walked the women through an area with several cubicles. There were about a dozen people working on their computers or talking on their phone headsets. Benjamin whispered over their heads. “New people. Kat and Isabelle.” Those who weren’t on the phone said “hello,” or “welcome,” while the others waved.

Isabelle noted that everyone had a pleasant expression on their face. The air smelled fresh, and the place was well-lit without bright, blinding overhead fixtures. It was a physically comfortable environment, and judging by Robert’s attitude, it was an emotionally comfortable environment.

A huffing and puffing Dickie scampered toward them. “Hello. Sorry. I was dealing with some stuff. You must be Kat and Isabelle? I’m Dickie Morton.”

“Hi. I’m Isabelle.” She held out her hand. He wiped his on his trousers before he shook it.

“Kat.” She took her turn. So people do get sweaty around here.

“Where’s Oliver?” Dickie asked.

“He got a little flushed. Sugar thing,” Benjamin replied. “He should be here momentarily.”

“I understand you will be reporting to me,” Dickie said pleasantly to Kat. No one would guess his intestines were in a knot. He had enough trouble already. Now he had a new person he had to train and keep an eye on. Man, he wished his palms would stop sweating.

“You okay, Dickie?” Benjamin couldn’t help noticing the discomfort his employee was experiencing.

“Yeah. Got a little winded coming down the hall. I should work out more often, but you know how it goes. Always something else comes up and gets in the way.” He was starting to breathe normally. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your desk. It’s right around the corner.” They entered a large room with whiteboards on each wall. A cluster of desks sat in the middle. Each desk had a swivel chair, so anyone could see any of the boards if they shifted in that direction. Three men and a woman were seated and typing information into a central database.

“This is what we call ‘The Pit.’ Kind of a company joke.” Then he turned to his employees. “Listen up! This is Kat. She’s our swing-shift, on-call driver. When you get a minute, introduce yourselves.” Benjamin jerked his head toward a desk on one of the side walls in front of a frosted sheet of glass. “This is your home away from home.” He pulled out the comfortable swivel chair. “I mean, it’s your home away from your home away from home.”

Kat sat and spun around. “Nice. I’d say this is almost as comfortable as my rig.” She chuckled.

Dickie spotted Oliver walking in their direction. “There’s Oliver.”

“Sorry about that. Blood sugar.” That was his story, and he was sticking to it.

“You alright?” Benjamin asked.

Oliver furrowed his brow. “Of course. Just needed a little orange juice. Everybody getting the gist of the place?”

“Yes. It’s a beautiful office space,” Isabelle remarked.

“Thanks. Believe it or not, my daughter Addie is going to Pratt next semester. This was the layout she submitted with her application.”

“Wow. You must be very proud,” Isabelle said, knowing how talented the young woman must be in order to get accepted to a renowned school of design.

“Yes, we are. But we’re going to miss her. She’ll be on the other side of the country.”

Oliver was anxious to get this welcome wagon over and done with. “Let’s show Kat the apartment. The stairs are right outside. Then we can bring Isabelle over to the Cascade section.”

“Lead the way,” Benjamin instructed.

Dickie didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Kat was going to report to him, but this seemed to be Oliver’s show. He looked at his boss. Oliver gave him a wide-eyed look and tilted his head in the direction of the stairs.

“Follow me,” Dickie instructed the group. A door led from the corner of the room to a flight of stairs. There were two doors at the top of the landing. One led to an outside entrance, the other to a fifteen-hundred-square-foot apartment.

“Wow. This is where I’ll be living?” Kat was stunned. “This is nicer than any place I’ve ever stayed.” Of course she was lying, but they didn’t have to know that. Travel accommodations with Annie or Myra were usually upscale. Not necessarily over-the-top, but rarely was there reason to complain about lack of service or a comfortable bed.

“It’s two bedrooms. We use it for out-of-town clients.”

“Will I be in the way?” Kat asked.

“No. We’re not expecting anyone. We cancelled all the in-person meetings until we knew Dad’s condition and when he’d be up for them.” Benjamin was in charge of most of the business, but when it came to their long-time, big-bucks clients, Milton was always at the ready.

“Will there be anyone else staying here?” Kat was wondering because she was about to propose the idea that Isabelle use the suite as her home base, too. It would make it a lot easier for everyone to stay in close contact with one another.

“No. It’s all yours,” Benjamin said.

“Hey”—she turned to Isabelle—“do you really want to be living out of a suitcase? Like every day?”

“What do you mean?” Isabelle knew exactly what she meant, but she had to play along to keep the ruse going. Everyone assumed they had just met earlier that day.

“Like, why don’t you leave the bulk of your stuff here, and then you’ll only have to take what you need when you visit the inns. From what I gather, Salem is about halfway between them.”

“You don’t mind sharing?” Isabelle continued with the act.

“Nope. Might be nice to have some female company for a change.” There were over 200,000 female truck drivers, but they only made up less than seven percent of the industry. “I don’t get to spend much time with other women.” She paused and smiled. “You don’t chew tobacco, do you?” Kat teased.

“Ha! No. Do you?” Isabelle looked at her in horror.

“Nope. Can’t stand the smell of it, either, and boy, do I get to smell a lot of it on the road. This is going to be a nice change of pace for me.”

“You are exactly the target audience for the Cascade Inns.” Oliver glowed.

“Maybe she can take a ride with me when I go down to Eugene? That is, if she’s not tagged to work,” Isabelle offered.

Eugene? Oliver and Dickie both began to sweat. That was not a good idea. Portland was safer. They hadn’t built the powder mill there yet. The plan was to have three manufacturing facilities. The compression machines were costly at five thousand dollars each, and Oliver knew he wouldn’t be able to hide those charges. The next two operations would be strictly powder. Depending on who the client was, they would deliver it in tightly packed bricks, or one-inch-square glycine bags, with a one hundred bag minimum. They were going to be in the business of drug dealing, but they didn’t want it to include the end-users. The street urchins. The dopers. Ernesto continued to be a “consultant” for a cut of the profits, and Oliver was intent on making profits.

Oliver jumped in. “We’ll have to look at the schedule. Maybe when Isabelle goes to Portland. Each of the inns are about an hour away.”

The women shrugged. They’d play along. By now, they could tell something was amiss, and Dickie and Oliver were in cahoots, unless they both suffered from blood sugar issues—both were jittery and had droplets on their upper lip.

“So you really don’t mind having a roommate?” Isabelle was giving it the old are you sure? quiz.

“Seriously. We can watch TV and braid each other’s hair.” Kat laughed out loud.

The three men were speechless. Was Kat coming on to Isabelle? Or was she joking? If they said something, it could be taken the wrong way. Better to keep their mouths shut.

“My gear is still at the hotel. I’ll pick it up later so I can go downstairs and get acquainted with the staff,” Kat said, regaining her air of professionalism.

“Mine, too,” Isabelle added. “Maybe we can grab a bite to eat before we come back here. Where are you staying?”

“At the Roadside Inn. A couple of miles from here. What about you?”

“A B and B. About a mile away.”

“Cool. I’m sure someone can recommend a place to grab dinner, and then we can settle in,” Kat said.

Dickie’s eyes darted around the room, making sure he hadn’t left anything incriminating behind.

“I’ll bring you both a set of keys,” Dickie offered. He wanted to give the place one more sweep before he turned it over to the two women.

“Thanks.”

All five of them climbed down to the main floor. Kat walked toward The Pit. “Hey. So tell me, why is this called ‘The Pit’? It looks pretty nice to me.”

“You didn’t see this place before the renovations,” one of her new coworkers responded. “You had to actually step down into the area to get to the desks. As the company got bigger, we needed more space, so Mr. Spangler decided to make the floor level. Now we have a little more elbow room to move about.”

“I see.”

“I’m Sandy, by the way. That’s Charlie, Reggie, and Keith.”

“Hi.” Kat gave a little wave. “How long have you all been working here?”

Sandy gave her the rundown. Everyone had been at the company at least ten years.

“Must be a good place to work.” Kat was subtly fishing.

“Mr. Milton, he’s the best. Nice man. Kind.”

“You call him Mr. Milton?” Kat asked.

“He said he didn’t want to be called Mr. Spangler. There were three Spanglers. He said we should call him Milton, but I just can’t. So, out of respect, I call them Mr. Milton, Mr. Benjamin, and Mr. Oliver.”

“What about Dickie?” Kat asked.

Sandy leaned in. “I have my own title for him, one that’s part of his name!” She guffawed.

Interesting , Kat thought.

“But please don’t tell him that!” Sandy put her hand over her mouth, thinking she’d said too much too soon.

“No problem. I know a lot of them.” Kat gave her a wink.

“So, you’ll be staying upstairs?” Sandy asked. “I thought someone was already up there. Been a lot of foot traffic. They must have left.”

“Yes. I’ll be upstairs, and Isabelle will be staying there when she’s not traveling to the inns.”

“For how long?”

“Not sure. For a couple of weeks, probably.”

“Isabelle is the woman who will be overseeing the facilities for now, right?”

“Yes.”

“How do you two know each other?” Sandy asked innocently.

“We just met.”

“And you’re going to be roomies?” Sandy wasn’t being nosy. Just curious.

“I spend a lot of time sleeping in the cab of my truck. There’s an awful lot of space upstairs, and I figured she could use a home base.”

“That’s mighty kind of you,” Sandy said.

“Heck, why not? Us gals have to stick together.” Kat leaned in just a bit, garnering Sandy’s confidence.

In turn, Sandy whispered, “We could use a full-time person, to be perfectly honest. Someone is always calling out sick.”

“Maybe. We’ll see how it goes.” Kat thought for a minute. “How often do you think I’ll be out?”

“Depends. Long-haulers are pretty reliable, so maybe once or twice a month. It’s the short runs that can be a problem. We have a really high turnover rate.” She thought for a moment. “I’d say two, three times a week. It’s quiet today, but you’ll be busy.”

“I hope so. One thing I can’t stand is just sitting around.”

“We can always find something for you to do. You know how to use a computer?”

“Sure.”

“Good. Maybe you can help with some of the dispatch logs.”

“I’ll give it a shot,” Kat offered.

“Great. How are you at spreadsheets?”

“I have to turn them in after every run.”

“Welcome aboard, Kat! I think I’m going to like having you around.” Sandy held up her hand for a high five.

Kat smiled to herself. Sandy might be a good ally in the future.

* * *