“Thank you for coming in on your day off, Sir.” Aiden dips his head in respect.
The man, Rutledge I assume, nods back. “It sounded like it was important.”
“It is, Sir. Very unexpected intel.” Aiden turns to me. “Sir, this is Jules—Miss Girard.”
Rutledge smiles widely. “Nice to finally meet you. Are you happy for me to call you Miss Girard, or would it be better to continue with Jules Feelan?”
No nonsense. Not only is he aware of who I am, but he knows everything that’s gone down over the last couple of weeks. What I’m less happy about is Lafferty knowing both my names.
“Either is fine, Sir,” I answer.
“Malcolm, Jules, call me Malcolm. I get enough Sir-ing from this lot, but they’re paid to do that, so who am I to complain?” When he smiles, I understand where all his wrinkles are from. He’s not a dour man; he’s a good one; all twinkling eyes filled with mischief like a storybook grandpa.
“Lafferty, go take a break,” Aiden instructs, his tone laced with ice.
“But I…”
Malcolm steps forward, one little half-step in Lafferty’s direction, and gives her a sweet smile. “Lafferty, is it? Might I trouble you for a favour?”
Lafferty straightens up, barking in the affirmative. “Sir!”
“My wife informs me that the dish I broke last week was priceless,” he says, surprising all three of us. “Now, I’m a practical man, and figure if someone made it once they can make it again. So, at great expense, I ordered a whole set of painted crockery to comein from wherever the hell it was originally made. I got a notification that it was in the back storage. Would you be a champion and fetch it for me? It’ll have my name on the box. Malcolm Rutledge,” he says as if she doesn’t already know who he is.
Lafferty looks from Aiden to Rutledge and then pastes on her fake smile. “Sure. I mean, of course, Sir.” She stalks off to the back of the depot, looking back at us more than once.
Malcolm turns his smile on us. “There. Free to talk. What do you have for me?”
Aiden tells him about our earlier conversation. The old man’s pupils darken to sharp pinpricks the longer he listens.
“You’re sure?” he asks, directing the question at Aiden.
I answer instead. “About the Water Treatment Plant? Yes. The rest is mostly guesswork or things I’ve put together by listening to others.”
“Can you recall any specific dates?” Rutledge asks.
“Not dates exactly. They don’t seem to work via dates, more days of the week. The first one is on a Thursday around the middle of the month, and the other is usually on a Wednesday at the end of the month. If you post some men on the roof of the paint factory across the street from the entrance, you’ll see the trucks coming and going. They run the highway toward Wickton and bypass much of Harrison Central. There’s also a second light that flashes on the nautical mile buoys out behind the suburbs. I used to watch them from my grandmother’s house. It only appears a couple of times a month, so it may be a warning system or a drop point or something. I’m not sure. It’s just always seemed odd to me that it was an inconsistent light.”
“Thank you, Jules. That is immensely helpful. We’ve been wondering why it’s been quiet lately. We get one or two minor raids every six weeks. I’ve assumed for a while that they’re keeping us just busy enough not to raise suspicion,” Rutledge admits.
I can’t help but issue my own warning. “Be careful. Rats knowhow to bury deep. Block one tunnel and they’ll chew out another.”
“True indeed. We’ll do as you said and take a look at all the businesses and services stationed along the water’s edge. Aiden, thank you for bringing this to me.”
“Of course.”
Malcolm claps his hands. “Now, what was all that with young Lafferty?”
“Good question.” Aiden turns to me expecting an answer.
Well, damn. “Personal stuff. It’s nothing. All done now.”
Aiden doesn’t buy it. He shakes his head at me and then addresses Malcolm. “Just in case, might I suggest a review? Check her financials for debt. She tried to over-charge twice. Should we have someone talk to her and make sure she’s okay? She’s been acting out recently.”
Aw, hell no. Am I really going to have to explain this was jealousy over a crush? “Really. I’m not sure any of that is necessary. It was a posturing thing. We had words, and she was trying to pull rank…so to speak. No foul.”
“All the more reason to check on her,” Malcolm agrees with Aiden. “I’ll see to it.”
Aiden nods. He places a hand on my back. “Then we’ll be on our way, if there’s nothing else…”
