I had found everything Mr. Smith needed to take what Ryan has spent years building and I was surprised by the pang of regret that hit me when I thought about how huge his loss would be. It was the first time I felt bad for doing my job.
The first time I wanted to give a mark a fighting chance to keep what was theirs.
I’ve also tried not to analyze why I was feeling this way, especially since I knew how important this job was for my own survival.
So even though I’m back to look through files I’ve already searched, there’s no real expectation I’ll find anything helpful. I just want at least one more look in case something new jumps out at me, given that my main focus has now shifted.
The idling engine of the truck inside the warehouse is loud enough that I don’t hear the approaching voices on the other side of the door until they are seconds from opening it. The small bathroom is the only spot where I can hide. I scramble into the shower stall, pulling the opaque white curtain closed just as the office door opens and two men enter.
I crouch down, lean against the shower wall, and put my head as close as I dare to the curtain.
From the small gap between the shower curtain and shower wall, there is a sliver of view into the office from the open doorway. The office chair closest to me is occupied, but I can only see the side of the chair and part of the man’s shoulder.
“Go ahead and call him in here.”
His voice is like a punch in the gut. It’s Ryan. Ryan is here. Not meeting clients back in Louisiana but sitting about six feet from me.
A door opens then shuts, and we’re left alone. I lean away from the curtain in case he heads in here to use the bathroom.
This is sloppy of me, and I’m never this sloppy, despite Mr. Smith’s feelings about my last performance. But if he could see me right now, I wouldn’t blame him if he questioned my ability to successfully complete this job.
The sound of paper shuffling is the only thing that lets me know he’s still at that desk, since I’ve lost the visual.
A few minutes later, I hear the door open again, and two different sets of boots shuffle across the concrete floor.
“Hey, man, what are you doing here today?” a man’s voice says. The inflection is high, like he’s surprised, but there’s a nervous quiver to it that gives him away. He’s scared.
There is no answer, so the man keeps talking as if his words are less dangerous than the silence filling the room. “I know I’m only supposed to work on Thursdays, but I needed a few extra hours this week. My ex is on my ass about money again. Wants to send the kids to some damn summer camp up in Arkansas. I’m like shit, they don’t have to go all the way to the damn Ozark Mountains to play tag and whatever other bullshit they do up there.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry, Ryan. I know I’m not supposed to be here today.” His voice breaks when he says Ryan’s name, and this has me more curious than anything else. Ryan has yet to say a word, and this man is terrified. All I’ve ever seen is sweet Ryan. Romantic Ryan. Fun Ryan.
Scary Ryan is intriguing.
“Come on, Freddie. Did you really think it was possible to make a side deal and have my trucks come through when I’m not here?”
His voice is now a bit deeper.
“No. It was dumb. Stupid. Really fucking stupid,” Freddie answers. The third person in the room hasn’t spoken yet.
There’s a squeaking sound as if maybe Ryan is leaning back in his chair and the springs need to be oiled. I can almost picture him. He’d have his hands laced behind his head. Maybe his feet are propped up on the desk. He would look calm, almost casual, but the voice lets you know he’s anything but.
“Seth, grab those wire cutters off Benny’s desk,” Ryan says in a deceptively calm voice.
There’s a rustling sound and then Seth says, “Got ’em.”
And then there’s an edge to Ryan’s voice that I’ve never heard before. “You’re going to tell me who else is involved or Seth is going to enjoy using those wire cutters on your fingers.” The chair squeaks again and Ryan adds, “What do you think, Seth, one finger for every minute we have to wait?”
“Sounds about right to me, Boss. These are pretty dull, though, so it may take me more than a minute to get one off.”
Seth barely finishes before Freddie is talking. He’s throwing around names and plans and dates at such a rapid rate that I hope Seth has forgotten about the wire cutters and picked up a pen and paper instead.
“You’re not telling me everything,” Ryan says. “You and those other idiots are too stupid to pull this off on your own. Tell me who else is involved.”