Page 19 of Out of the Shadows
“He’s Mr. Monroe’s brother-in-law, and while Mr. Monroe has said that no one should give him special consideration, that’s a difficult rule to follow.”
“You don’t want to rat him out,” Margo said bluntly.
“You could say that. Charlie is gifted—he can fix anything, and everyone likes him. He’s friendly, kind, will do anything that is asked of him, no matter how mundane or complicated.”
“But,” Margo prompted, sensing there was more.
“He’s not punctual, often misses shifts without notice. His work is good, but he’s slow, not from carefulness, though he is meticulous, but because he’s easily distracted. He might start fixing a sprinkler head, then pause to stare at a tree or get sidetracked replacing a dead bush, forgetting the original task. His supervisor often has to remind him.”
“That gives me a clear picture,” Margo said. It aligned with what Jack had told her.
“I have a twelve-year-old son,” Annette added. “He’s brilliant, does well in school, but his teachers have told me he daydreams. Doesn’t listen in class, stares out the window. They have to call his name multiple times. When I ask him about this, he says he gets caught up thinking through a problem. Charlie’s the same. The difference is, my son is still a child. Charlie’s a grown man.”
“I get it. I’m sure Logan would want honesty, though.”
“No one has lied to him. Mr. Monroe has turned this resort around in far less time than I thought possible. His vision is sound, he listens, and he is surprisingly approachable. But no one wants to tell him his brother-in-law is lazy.”
“I think he knows that.”
Annette pulled up to a cement building discreetly built behind a row of palm trees. Employee parking on the opposite side, and a covered patio area lined with misters for taking breaks. A row of maintenance carts and small trucks were neatly parked.
Annette escorted Margo into the building, said hello to the secretary, who appeared to be doing three things at once, and walked down the hall to a small office with windows looking out to the green.
“Frank, do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, one sec.” He finished what he was typing—it took him a minute as he used only his index fingers to do so. “Okay, how can I help you, Annette?”
“This is Margo Angelhart. She’s Mr. Monroe’s private investigator with some questions about Charlie Barrett. Mr. Monroe has asked that we cooperate fully.”
“Well, damn,” Frank said.
“I’ll let you talk, before I take Ms. Angelhart back to her vehicle.”
“No need for you to wait, Annette,” Frank said. “I have to go to the lodge anyway to meet the contractor about the fountain. I’ll take her back.”
“Very well, thank you,” Annette said, then nodded to Margo and left.
“Sit, sit,” he said, motioning to a vinyl-covered chair. “Coffee? Water?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He picked up a mug, drank, grimaced, put it down. “Charlie. Damn. What’dya want to know?”
“His ex-wife and children were in an accident last night and neither Laura nor Logan has been able to reach him. Logan asked me to track him down.”
His face fell. “Are they okay?”
“Yes, they’re fine. Just want to talk to their dad.”
“They’re great kids. What do you need from me?”
“Annette said that Charlie didn’t show up for work on Saturday.”
Frank frowned and nodded. “Didn’t even call, though that isn’t unusual.”
“Does he have a schedule?”
“Yes.” Frank turned to his computer, typed with one finger, then said, “Okay... he works Wednesday through Saturday, 6:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. He’s often late, and I dock him for that. He’s always apologetic. Friday he left early—took his lunch at eleven, which is usual, then told one of the other guys that he might be late getting back, but didn’t return. Typical.”
