Page 39 of Unforgotten

The man looked him in the eye. “There was a fire, but we think it was a distraction. The door into the main offices was broken into.”

“And you are?”

“Sorry. My name’s Jay Byler. I’ve been an employee here for almost ten years.”

“Good to meet you.”

Jay stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded.

Ryan hid a smile. The man was all business. He could work with that. “Show me where that is, if you would.”

“Jah. I’ll be glad to.”

Following Jay into the building and then through a vast showroom, Ryan was shocked at how modern everything looked. He had figured with so many Amish working at the business, it might look a bit more homespun. “This place is unexpected,” he said. “It’s nice.”

Jay looked confused, then nodded. “I had forgotten that you’re new in town. I reckon you wouldn’t have had the occasion to visit before.”

“I’ve been here for over a month now, but you’re right. I’m still getting to know all the area businesses.”

“Well, welcome to ya. I’m sorry we’re not meeting under better circumstances.”

“Me too.”

Jay stopped in front of the door that led to the main offices. It was black and had a glass insert in the center of it. It was obvious that the door was usually open during the day. However, there was a good dead bolt by the handle. The wood around it was splintered. “This here is how the office was broken into,” he explained.

Pulling out his phone, Ryan took several pictures of both the broken lock as well as the marks on the doorframe. “I’m guessing someone used a crowbar.”

“Jah. I thought the same thing.”

“Do you sell those?”

“Crowbars? For sure. And probably half the workstations in the back have one on hand.”

“Any way to tell if one is missing?”

“I can ask, though that might be a long shot. I’m afraid tools get picked up by employees every once in a while.” He waved a hand. “You know ... we’re working and we need an extra hand and a crowbar, and someone says, ‘Just go grab one from aisle four.’ That kind of stuff.”

“That makes it difficult to keep track of your inventory.”

“I reckon it might. I don’t know, though. Mr. Burkholder never seems to be disturbed by it. Plus, most of our customers are commercial. They’re hotels, big office buildings, hospitals, etc. We don’t exactly cater to folks just wanting one door or desk.” He seemed to think about it. “Then there’s all the folks who are our suppliers and such. I don’t think anyone takes advantage. I’ve never heard of it.”

Ryan figured Jay was probably right. Besides, the real problem wasn’t a missing crowbar, it was the fire—and what could have possibly been stolen from the office. “I’m going to need to talk to whoever is in charge.”

“That’s Mr. Burkholder, but he isn’t here at the moment.”

“So, you can answer all my questions?”

“I think Peggy Conway might be a better choice.” Jay gestured for Ryan to enter first. “She’s Mr. Burkholder’s PA, so she knows just about everything going on around here.”

Ryan’s first impression was that the office space looked as efficient as any metropolitan-based corporation. Well, any corporation that was run by someone’s cozy grandfather. All of the furniture in the office space was beautiful—expertly built and with a smooth, buttery-looking finish. But it was also a little cramped.

A middle-aged lady in a pair of dark slacks and a white blouse was looking down at her desk when they entered. Her head popped up, then she frowned when she saw Ryan in his uniform. “May I help you?” she asked.

“Peggy, this here is Officer Mulaney,” Jay said. “He’s here about the break-in.”

“I don’t recognize you.”

“That’s because I’m new in town.”

---