Chapter Thirteen “Places, Everyone!” #3
“Good plan.” Izzie raised her glass. She was trying to find a way to steer their conversation back to the young man who was hit by a dump truck.
She decided that time was of the essence, and she came right out and asked.
“Tell me more about your friend. The one in the hospital. Is he going to be okay?”
“Jeremy? I think so, but I’m worried about him.”
“What do you mean?” Izzie was drooling over this outpouring of information.
“They have him handcuffed to his hospital bed.”
“Why on earth for?” Izzie winced.
“They said there was a vial of morphine in the car he was driving.”
“Wow. That’s intense.”
“That’s exactly what I said to him. But I don’t think he did it.”
“Then how did it get there?” Izzie was playing devil’s advocate.
“No idea, but he was the on-site pharmacist.”
“That makes him look guilty, don’t you think?”
Regina looked Izzie straight in the eye. “Sure, but I really believe him.”
“Do you think it was a setup?”
“Possibly, but why? And who?” Regina pondered.
“Can I ask you something?” Izzie queried.
“Sure.”
“Has this place always been this, I dunno, creepy?”
“To be honest, things started getting a little weird a few months ago, when they announced they were opening a third community.”
“Weird. How?”
“Believe it or not, Crabby Clayton wasn’t always as crabby. I mean, she’s always been crabby, but the past month, she has been flying on a broomstick.”
Izzie almost spit out her drink, imagining the portly woman soaring overhead.
“And get this. When I tried to look up Jeremy’s profile, to see if I could get some family info, his file didn’t exist.”
“What do you mean, didn’t exist?” Izzie was dubious.
“I know I only have access to a few file folders, but one is for employees. For payroll. And I went over it and could not find a record of him anywhere.”
“Interesting.” Izzie felt she was getting closer to the fire. But what exactly was burning?
Pensacola, Florida
Landscaping Facility
Around the same time Izzie reported to Edith Clayton, Yoko arrived at the facilities building.
Once she got past the security guard, she stepped inside.
It was an extremely large warehouse and resembled the inside of a Home Depot.
Yoko surmised they could build an entire complex with the supplies and tools they had on hand.
A tall, thin man with what sounded like a Russian accent approached her. “Miz Akia? I am Zhukov. Manager of Facilities. You come to do landscaping?” He eyed her petite form with suspicion.
Yoko gave him a slight bow. “Yes. There is much I can do.” Her thought balloons were already fired up.
Like kick your butt across this concrete floor.
He had no idea Yoko held black belts in many of the martial arts.
At any given moment, she could kill someone without flinching or leaving a trace.
But that is not what the discipline was about. Unless it was absolutely necessary.
Zhukov shrugged. “Follow me.” He showed her to a small locker room area. “You get clothes and change.”
Lockers with padlocks lined one wall, and several changing booths with curtains lined another. There was another wall with shelves that contained clean, army-green, folded jumpsuits with the Sunnydale logo. “You take one. Change. Lock your things. I wait outside.”
Each shelf marked the sizes of the uniforms. There was only one marked SMALL, and it was already too big for her diminutive frame.
The crotch of the pants was down to her knees.
She guessed it was for a small man, not a woman of her size.
She rolled up the cuffs and stuffed her hair into a cap that also held the logo.
Zhukov eyed her as she exited the locker room. “You very small person.”
Yoko smiled. “Yes, but I am a very strong small person.” She nodded again.
“Come.” Zhukov motioned for her to follow him to where the topsoil and mulch were stored. “You take Danny in cart and finish front entrance. Needs refreshed.”
Yoko introduced herself to Danny, since Ivan was short on pleasantries and decorum.
Yoko figured Danny was in his early thirties, but with his sun-leathered skin, it was hard to pinpoint within a ten-year range.
Danny had a neatly trimmed reddish beard with a bit of matching hair poking out from under his cap.
He was neat and trim. “Welcome, Yoko. I hear you’re a famous designer. ”
“I am a landscape designer and florist, but famous? No.”
“I thought, maybe they’d hire a high-profile person.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I hear they’re planning on building another place and are trying to get investors. Having a well-known name on the roster couldn’t hurt.”
“They’re planning on another location?”
“That’s the rumor. New Mexico, I think that’s what they said.”
Yoko didn’t want to draw any suspicion, so she changed the subject … for the moment. “How long have you been working here?”
“Since it opened, five years ago.” He grew sheepish. “I was on parole, and the congressman got me this job.”
“That was nice of him. Do you know him well?” Yoko asked casually.
“That’s the funny thing. Never met the guy. One day when I was meeting with my P.O., he told me there was a job opening at a new senior community and word came down that they should hire me.”
“How do you suppose they got your name? Curious.”
“Some kind of mandate, I guess.”
Or a way to keep an eye on your employees, Yoko guessed. Over the years, when the Sisters were on a mission, they learned to believe half of what you hear, and disregard the rest. At least when it came to the people they were targeting. Not a good use of a word, but applicable.
Yoko checked the clipboard that was hanging on the landscaping cart. “We need ten bags for the front, ten for the sides.” To Danny’s astonishment, Yoko picked up the forty-pound bag and slung it over her shoulder as if it were a kitchen towel.
“Holy smoke! You powerlift?”
“Me? No. Not powerlift.” Yoko did not go into detail as to how she maintained her physical strength.
“I gotta say, I’m impressed.”
Yoko lugged another bag to the cart. “Maybe this is why they hired me.” She chuckled. “I can literally carry my own weight. No pun intended.”
Danny chortled. “And you’re funny.”
Funny? Me, funny? That’s a new one. “I like to laugh, but I am usually not the funny one,” Yoko responded.
Danny looked up at the rising sun. “It’s gonna be a hot one today. And huuu-mid.” He elongated the word for emphasis.
“Florida sunshine and all the moisture one could ever want,” Yoko added, as she continued to load the cart. “You drive, since I’m not familiar with the place yet.”
“Sure thing!” Danny got behind the wheel of the Cushman utility vehicle, capable of carrying eight hundred pounds at sixteen miles per hour with a ticket price of $15,000.
Yoko thought of Annie in her souped-up golf cart. She would never stand for something that moved at that snail pace. “This is quite the rig,” she said, as she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Everything here is top-of-the-line,” Danny noted, as they passed two dump trucks parked several yards away.
Yoko made a mental note to check the trucks for dents, when or if she was not under surveillance.
She also noticed the excessive amount of security cameras.
As the cart slowly moved to the main entrance, Yoko took mental notes of the landscape and the layout.
She would be able to find her way back based on the foliage.
All of this was a discussion for the group.
It took them until noon to unload and spread the topsoil and mulch.
Then the two got into the much-lighter transport and headed back to the facilities building.
They circumvented the large patio area, where Yoko got a glimpse of Izzie walking with another woman.
Things were falling into place. Next would be the arrival of Myra.
When Danny and Yoko returned to the building, they went to the locker room to clean up for lunch. “We change into a clean uniform before we eat.”
“That might be a problem. This was the only size small.” Yoko looked down at her dirty jumpsuit. “I don’t think the next size up is going to work for me.”
“Wait right here.” Danny went back into the warehouse area and returned with a piece of rope. “Try this for a belt.”
Yoko chuckled and said, “Good thinking.” She took the rope and a fresh uniform, size medium. She laughed out loud. “I can fit two of me in this. I think I need a few more pieces of rope. For the sleeves,” she called out to him.
“Be back in a jiffy.” Danny made quick work of getting more rope. He tossed the pieces over to her.
Yoko’s fashion issue was cutting into their lunch break. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up. Just tell me where.” Yoko be gan rolling the sleeves, then tying them below her elbow.
“There’s a small lunchroom-slash-cafeteria at the far end of the building. They have sandwiches, mac and cheese, and sometimes stew.”
Yoko realized the cuisine was meant for men. Big men with big appetites. “No salads, I presume?” she called out.
“You presume correctly,” he said over his shoulder.
Depending on how long this mission would take, Yoko considered bringing her lunch to work in the future.
Once she was comfortable enough in the baggy outfit, she walked quickly to the lunchroom. She smiled and said hello to anyone who looked in her direction. She calculated there were about a dozen employees working in the warehouse, not including her or Danny. More mental notes.