Page 9 of Silos and Sabotage

Gage already knew that. What he didn’t understand was how a company with six fewer silos than their next biggest competitor had managed to post higher profits for ten quarters straight. It didn’t add up.

“From what I understand,” Gil continued, “they enjoy a very low turnover rate, too.”

“How low are we talking about?” Though Gage was anxious to get back to discussing their Jane Doe, he didn’t want to miss the opportunity to learn as much as he could about the Bolanders.

“Word on the street is that nobody leaves Bolander & Sons. Could be because they pay well. Could be because of something else.”

Okay, you have my attention now.“Do you know anyone who works there?” So far, this was the most anyone in town had been willing to share with him about the Bolanders.

“I used to know a guy there, but he left town a long time ago.” Gil’s voice hardened. “Not that this has to do with anything, but his ex-wife is in line to become the next CEO of their biggest competitor, Radcliffe Industries.”

Gage’s heart pounded with excitement. He knew exactly who they were talking about, since Avery Radcliffe happened to be Mick Lawton’s ex-wife.

“How’s their turnover rate compared to the Bolanders?” Gage wasn’t sure where that question had come from. He was mostly just trying to keep the conversation going.

“One and the same.” Gil was silent for a moment. “A few of the locals claim it’s like working for the mafia, but it hasn’t stopped a growing number of Heart Lakers from joining their payroll.”

Gage didn’t like the sound of that. “Any idea how many we’re talking about?”

“According to the latest report that crossed my desk? Roughly fifteen percent.” Gil didn’t sound the least bit pleased about it, either. “It’s up three percent from last year.”

It sounded significant to Gage, too, though he wasn’t sure it had anything to do with their Jane Doe. “What do you know about Billy Bob Bolander specifically?” He was more than ready to circle back to what had happened at the diner earlier.

“Like I said, he’s trouble.” Gil’s voice was resigned. “I didn’t realize he was out of jail before you called. Let’s see… He had his first DUI on his twentieth birthday. Got busted for possession a few months after that. He was convicted, which earned him his initial stint in the slammer. After he got out, he was pulled over for drag racing, and the officer smelled marijuana in the car. He was arrested for possession again. The second time he went to jail, his father disowned him. Or so I was told. Couldn’t verify it. Didn’t even try to.”

“Ouch! Guess his folks finally got fed up with his knot-headedness.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Gil’s interest in the topic sounded like it was waning.

“Which begs another question.” Every time Gage learned something about the Bolanders, it seemed to open a whole new can of worms. “If Billy Bob was, in fact, disinherited, why’s he back in town harassing our Jane Doe?”

“That’s a good question,” Gil drawled slowly.

A knock sounded on the door of the intensive care room.

Gage stood and moved across the room to open it. Sheriff Luke Hawling’s darkly tanned and scarred face appeared on the other side.

Gage hastily spoke into his phone. “Gotta go, sir.”

“Roger that. Keep me posted.” Gil disconnected the line.

Luke shook Gage’s hand. “How is she?” His voice was hushed as he stepped inside the room with his Stetson in hand. He was in the typical Heart Lake Police Department uniform — a white dress shirt, jeans, and boots. His sheriff’s badge was pinned against his chest.

Gage shook his head regretfully. “I’m being told it’s gonna take a miracle.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” The sheriff got to work, scraping beneath the woman’s fingernails, taking pictures of her from various angles, and scanning her fingerprints into his electronic tablet. He finally straightened. “I don’t think we’re gonna find her in the system.” He pointed at the door, silently indicating he wanted to talk to Gage out of the patient’s earshot.

Gage followed him into the hallway, burning with curiosity.

“Her fingerprints have been altered,” Luke announced gruffly. “I’m betting her facial features have been, as well. She’s got some cosmetic surgery scars. Very high-end, barely there kind of scars. I might’ve missed them if I wasn’t looking for them.”

Well, I’ll be!Gage glanced back toward the door of the room housing the mystery woman. Since he couldn’t picture her altering her appearance to cover a life of crime, his thoughts roved to other possibilities. Like federal witness protection. Folks didn’t erase their own fingerprints unless they were trying to hide from someone.

“It’s possible she just didn’t like the way she looked before.” Luke gave him a bemused look. “She wouldn’t be the only one who’s ever felt that way.” He pointed at the scarred side of his face. From what Gage had heard, Luke had almost been burnt alive in his sleep during a house fire some time ago.

Though anything was possible at this point concerning the Jane Doe, there was one detail that made Gage think they were dealing with something other than cosmetic surgery. “Most folks don’t alter their fingerprints.”

“Nope. They don’t. That’s a puzzle for sure.” Luke was silent for a moment. “I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions, though. Could be she just wanted a fresh start.”

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