Chapter Fourteen

Although Alex had really only been working for Mr. Darcy for a matter of days, he’d already gotten accustomed to the taciturn nature of the people he worked with.  By and large, he was being kept in the dark by everyone he had encountered.  So far his attempts at small talk had been rebuffed, and he was starting to recognize the pattern, even if he wasn’t quite used to it yet.

It was, therefore, quite a shock when Julia Child turned to him once she was settled in and had her pre-takeoff drink (a Bloody Mary) in hand and began chatting with him about, well, everything.

By the time they’d taken off, Alex was fairly sure he’d already heard Julia Child’s entire life story, but she was just getting warmed up.  Over the course of the next four hours, he also learned the life story of everyone Julia Child knew.  The sheer volume of superfluous information coming out of his neighbor’s mouth was mind-blowing after the recent absence of anything except exactly what he needed to know at a given moment.

He wasn’t sure if he was enjoying it or wished she’d stop, but it didn’t really matter because she was having a hell of a good time telling him the minutest details of the day to day lives of her friends, family and co-workers.

Alex wanted to try and prompt her to start talking about Mr. Darcy, and how she knew him, but he wasn’t able to get a word in edge-wise.  She did, at one point, ask him what he thought about the roast beef they’d been served and how he liked the garlic bread, but he didn’t actually get a chance to answer before she continued chatting.

About three quarters of the way through the flight, Alex dug into his bag and pulled out the thumb drive he was supposed to give her.   He waited for his opportunity to say something, but it never presented itself.

He finally just set the thumb drive on the tray table next to her and waited to see what happened.

What happened was that she said, “Well, finally,” picked up the thumb drive and put it in her pocket without missing a beat while launching right back into her story about the nice blind gentleman who ran the cafeteria at her office and how it said a lot about the honesty of people in general that he was able to do business in cash and not get ripped off.

Alex was very, very glad to get off the plane in Albuquerque.  When the airplane door was opened, Julia Child said, “Well, it’s been a pleasure talking with you.  Have a nice time in Albuquerque,” and was out of her seat and out the door so quickly the flight attendant didn’t even have a chance to say “buh-bye” to her.

For his part, as he disembarked, he dug out the folder Mr. Darcy had given him and learned that they’d rented him a car and booked a hotel room for him at the Rio Grande Inn, which was apparently in the Old Town area of Albuquerque.

He went to the Budget Car Rental counter, and was mildly thrilled to discover that there was a Cadillac reserved for him.  He’d been expecting something more along the lines of a Chevy Sonic.

Once he was in the car, he plugged the address for the hotel into his phone, and was surprised that it was about fifteen minutes away from the airport.  Alex guessed that it must put him closer to the person he was going to be making the pickup from.  He was relieved that it looked like it would be an easy drive, though.  It had been a long day.

The following morning, Alex woke up at six o’clock, and went down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast.  He figured, since he was in the Southwest, he should really try to take advantage of the local fare, so he ordered a breakfast burrito, and was promptly stumped when the server asked “Red or Green?”

The server explained that he had his choice of red or green chili sauce on the burrito.  Alex didn’t want to seem too ignorant, so rather than asking for a recommendation, he just figured that green was probably less hot and ordered that.

It turned out he was wrong.

Having cleared out his sinuses and worked up a good sweat, after breakfast he went back up to his room to review the details of his assignment and get moving.

According to the information in the folder that Mr. Darcy had given him, Alex was supposed to go to a restaurant supply company that wasn’t too far away, talk to a John the owner, and get a small parcel from him.  There were no details on what it was.  Alex wondered what the heck a restaurant supply company would have that would be of interest to Mr. Darcy, or one of his clients, and then figured that it was probably a front like that furniture company had been.  Or, maybe someone just really wanted an esoteric bit of cooking equipment. 

His return flight to Minneapolis was at three o’clock, and it was currently just about eight o’clock in the morning.  Alex gathered up his things, and left the keys to the room on the dresser.  After a quick check to make sure he hadn’t mistakenly left any of his stuff behind, he left the hotel room and went out to the Cadillac. 

Alex was shocked at how cool outside it was.  He’d been expecting Albuquerque to be much warmer, but it couldn’t have been much more than sixty five degrees Fahrenheit.  He hustled to the car to get out of the wind, since he was only in a t-shirt, and tended to run cold.

Not surprisingly, it was more comfortable in the Cadillac.  Alex started the car, and drove over to the restaurant supply store.

J. McElroy Equipment Sales was only a couple of miles away, and Alex didn’t even need to get on the highway to get there.  He arrived in about the right area quickly.  The store was in an industrial area, and was surprisingly hard to spot from the road.   Alex had to loop around the block a couple of times before he finally saw a sign with the right address.  There was a tiny sign indicating that J. McElroy Equipment Sales was one of the businesses in an entirely non-descript grey building.

Alex pulled into the parking lot, and had to drive around the far side of the building to find the entrance for the restaurant supply company.  There was a large garage door right next to the main entrance. 

He parked the Cadillac, and walked inside.  Alex had never been in a restaurant supply store before, and wasn’t sure what to expect.  He imagined rows of gleaming, stainless steel equipment and well organized shelves stacked with economy-sized cookware and comically large egg whisks.

Well, there were some comically sized egg whisks, and plenty of other very large pots, pans, and just about everything else.  “Well organized” and “gleaming” weren’t words he would choose to describe the inventory at J. McElroy Equipment Sales.  Instead, “Piled haphazardly” and “Basically clean, but well-battered” were more accurate.

“Good morning!  What are you looking for?” said a gruff voice from somewhere in the back of the room.  Alex had to look around, but finally spotted a man who was probably in his late sixties, wearing a white t-shirt, dark brown chinos, and yellow suspenders.

“Good morning!” Alex said.  “I’m here to see John, the owner.”

“He’s not in yet, but he shouldn’t be too long.  You can just hang out here and wait for him, if you like.”

“Great, thanks,” Alex said.

He started to wander around the store, checking out equipment that he’d never seen before, and much of which he could only guess at the purpose of.  He was inspecting the selection of pots and pans when he noticed how inexpensive everything was.  Twelve dollars for a skillet that looked like it could be used for home defense and then immediately used to cook an omelet.  Four dollars for a cookie sheet that looked like it would out live him no matter how many frozen pizzas he made.

Alex made a note to go to a restaurant supply store first the next time he needed anything for his kitchen.

He noticed another customer out of the corner of his eye, and had a quick glance over.  She was blonde, and seemed both nervous and annoyed.  She was looking at espresso machines.  Alex went back to shopping twelve packs of salt and pepper shakers when he realized there was something awfully familiar about the blonde woman.  He looked again, and couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Alex walked around into the next row and kept checking stuff out.  He had picked up a gadget he couldn’t figure out the purpose of when he realized who the woman in the store reminded him of: the owner of the Bump and Grind. 

As discretely as he could manage, he peeked over the rack that was now between him and the blonde, and took another look.

Apparently she’d noticed.  She wheeled on him and said, “What? What? Is there something I can help you with?”

The employee in the back of the store was watching them now. 

“Sorry,” Alex said. “It’s just… Do you own a coffee shop in Minneapolis?  Are you Tamara?”

She went white for a second, then looked more closely at Alex.

“How do you know who I am?” Tamara said.  “Are you following me?”

“What? No!” Alex said. “It’s just a coincidence.  I’ve been in your coffee shop before is all.”

Tamara looked at him closely.

“I don’t believe in coincidences any more,” she said.  Then, ”You’re the bike weenie that hangs out with James.  You haven’t been into my shop for a while.  Is being a courier not for you?  And, hang on, what are you doing here?”

It took Alex a second, again, to remember that Marlboro’s real name was James.  He said, “Yep, that’s me.  I’m still working as a courier, I’ve just got another job I’m working on the side.  Well, I guess being a courier is my side job, really.  Anyway, I’ve been busy with my other job, so I haven’t been working the messenger job much lately.  I’m here for work… What are you doing here, though?  Are you relocating again?”

Tamara looked at him sharply.  “How do you know I’ve relocated before?  And what’s your other job?”

Jeez she’s suspicious, Alex thought.  He was beginning to wish he hadn’t noticed her in the first place, and tried to come up with a way to exit the conversation.

“Marlb, uh, James mentioned that you’ve had some other…” Here he got another sharp look from Tamara.  “I mean, another coffee shop.  I think he said it was in Wisconsin somewhere.”

And before he could catch himself, he said, “Are you coming to New Mexico to escape the cold?”

So much for getting out of this conversation, big mouth, Alex thought.

“Yeah, something like that,” Tamara said, and turned back to the espresso machines.

Oh thank God, Alex thought.  He had been worried the game of twenty extremely paranoid and defensive questions was going to continue.

He heard some conversation in the back of the store, and after a minute or so, another man who looked like he was in his sixties came over to him and said, “Are you Alex?”

“Yes, that’s me.  Are you Mr. McElroy?” Alex said.

“You’re saying that wrong, but nevermind.  Call me John.  Anyway, come in to my office in the back, I’ll have you on your way again in just a minute,” John said.

He led Alex past a bunch of mixers and other equipment that looked like it could really mess a person up if they weren’t careful in to the back of the store.  John’s office had what must have been an army surplus steel desk, a massive antique safe, and a bunch of posters and calendars with photos of restaurant equipment on them.  One of the posters had a “continuous feed food processor” on it that looked to Alex more like some kind of high tech mortar than something that had a place in the kitchen.  A huge Hobart logo was under the photo.

John opened the safe, and took out a rectangular cardboard box that was about five inches by three inches, and maybe another three inches deep.  He handed it to Alex, who was surprised by how heavy it was.  Alex noticed it was thoroughly wrapped with “Tamper Evident” tape.

“There you go,” John said.  “I’m glad to have it off my hands.”

That particular statement made Alex a little nervous about what he was holding.  “Why’s that?  What is it?”

John looked at Alex carefully, and said, “It’s secret, is what it is.  So if you don’t know what it is then you aren’t supposed to know, and if I were you I’d be glad to continue not knowing.”

Naturally, Alex immediately wanted to know what was in the forbidden mystery box, and he wanted to know really, really bad.  He wasn’t sure how to get past the “Tamper Evident” tape without, well, leaving evidence, though.  So, he decided he’d just have to half-hope that Mr. Darcy would be willing to clue him in once he’d gotten back to Minneapolis tonight.

What he said to John was, “OK, well, thank you.  I hope you have a great day!”

Alex left John’s office, and out through the store.  He noticed Tamara was no where to be seen, and wondered if he’d inadvertently scared her off.  He felt a little bad and hoped that he hadn’t.

He had just stepped outside when he heard arguing nearby.  He turned to look, and saw Tamara and a man who looked like he must be a professional wrestler nearby.  Tamara looked freaked out.  Alex didn’t think about it, just hurried over to help.

“Hey! Back off, man,” Alex said.  As he got closer, he appreciated a little more just how intimidating this guy was.  He towered over Alex, for one thing, and was dressed head to toe in black leather.  He had long, curly hair, and a closely shaved beard.  He looked like he was made out of pure muscle and malice.  It was a little late to mind his own business now, though.  He’d managed to get both the attention of both Tamara and the wrestler.

“Or you’ll do what?” the wrestler looking guy said, and glared at Alex.  It seemed like he’d gotten taller, somehow.

Alex did his best to meet his glare, and said, “I don’t know yet, but it probably won’t be nice.”

The wrestler stared at him a second longer, then started laughing.

“You know what, I like you,” he said.  “Whatever, I’m out of here anyway.  I just happened to be coming out of the shop next door when she came over and got in my face about following her around and never letting her have a moment’s peace.  As if.  So long.”

He walked away and got into what looked like a station wagon from the nineteen sixties, painted flat black.   After he’d driven away, Alex turned to Tamara.

“Are you OK?” he said.

 “Yeah,” Tamara said.  She wiped her eyes.  “I’m fine.  I just wish these assholes would stop turning up everywhere I go.  I just want to be left alone, for fuck’s sake.”

“Who was that guy?” Alex said. 

“Ares, the god of war,” Tamara said.

Wow, she really is crazy, Alex thought.   He was fairly confident that gods of war didn’t hang around in industrial parks.

“Oh, I see,” Alex said.  “So is he the reason you keep moving?”

“Not just him, but yeah.  Everywhere I go they turn up again.  I just want to do my own thing and be left alone to do it, and not have to bump into these same assholes practically every time I step outside,” Tamara said.  “Anyway, thanks for trying to help.  You’re incredibly lucky that he didn’t kill you.  Have a good day.”

She walked away and got into her own car.  Seconds later she drove away

Alex was thoroughly baffled by that entire exchange.  He checked the time, and realized he might as well get over to the airport.  So much for seeing any of Albuquerque while he was here.