Lori stood behind the desk, where three men in suits were taking turns signing their names in a ledger. When she saw Chandler, Lori held up one finger and pointed covertly to the waiting area. Jack and Chandler moved to the side.
Lori handed lanyards to the men in suits. On the front of each card, the word Visitor was printed in bright-green text. The men chatted with Lori until a thin woman in a sharp gray suit strode down the hallway. She greeted the men, and they followed her back down the hallway.
Now that she was alone, Jack was about to approach the desk, but just then a beefy custodian in navy blue coveralls pushed a rolling recycle bin down the hall to the reception desk. His small, close-set eyes, set in a round, ruddy face, stayed focused on the ground, and his mouth hung open in a slack way. “Do you have any recycling, Lori?” he asked.
She picked up a white container and handed it to him. “How are you today, Jeremy?” she said with a smile.
He shrugged and dumped the container. “Still sad.”
She patted his arm. “It’ll get better.”
“It’ll get better,” he repeated.
“Jeremy?” Lori pointed down at the floor. “Can you use less carpet freshener next time?”
Jeremy nodded quickly. “Sorry. Someone spilled. I had to get the stains out. Sorry.” Jeremy tipped the heavy bin back and wheeled it toward the elevator.
When he was gone, Lori waved Jack and Chandler over. They walked to the desk as she scooted around.
Medium height, a little on the curvy side, and in her early twenties, Lori looked every bit the business receptionist—charcoal slacks, pale blue top, her long, dark hair swept up in a low chignon. She grabbed Chandler’s hand as though they were old friends.
“Look at you!” She grinned at Chandler. “I can’t tell you how grateful my aunt is for that refrigerator.”
“That’s on Mr. Emerson.” Chandler blushed. “He’s the one who fixed it.”
“Mr. Emerson didn’t bring that refrigerator up four floors. Anyway, she’s tickled pink, let me tell you.” Lori squeezed his hand.
As Chandler and Lori chatted, Jack glanced down at the visitor sign-in log and his eyes widened. Detective Lyle Vargas. Under “purpose of visit,” he had written “Review security footage.” The checkout time was blank. Jack’s heart beat fast.
“Makayla called me,” Lori said. “What’s the big favor?”
“It’s, ahh…” Chandler cleared his throat and looked at Jack.
Jack tore his eyes from the log. “We were wondering if we could take you out to lunch. Now. Out.”
“Sure. Why?”
Footsteps came down the hall, and Jack held his breath. But it was just two women walking to the elevator, engaged in a quiet conversation.
Jack exhaled. “I want to ask you a few questions about Stacy Shaw.”
Lori cast a nervous glance at the women, who were getting on the elevator, then checked the clock. “I have to wait for my cover to get here. I’ll meet you downstairs in, like, ten minutes, or you can wait—”
“Great.” Jack moved for the elevator. “We’ll wait out front. Outside.”
Jack’s head was on a swivel as they walked. When they reached the elevator doors, Jack pressed the button four quick times.
“Hold up a second,” Chandler said.
“What?”
“I have to use the restroom.” Chandler winked.
The elevator doors dinged and opened. “No.” Jack practically dragged Chandler inside the elevator. “We gotta go.”
Jack reached out and rapidly pressed the bottom button.
“I don’t get you.” Chandler frowned. “You wanted to look around, and I come up with a great idea so we can do it but—”
Jack mashed the “close door” button repeatedly. “That detective is here.”
The doors closed, and Chandler’s eyes widened. “Now? Detective Vargas?”
Jack crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Yeah. So I figure we’d better beat feet. Did Vargas say anything to you about staying away from the investigation?”
“No. He told me to stay away from you,” Chandler huffed. “Like I said, you rub some people the wrong way. Did Vargas tell you to stay away from this?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think he’d really arrest me. Still, you should wait in the car.”
“Arrest you?” Chandler stomped, and the whole elevator shook. “You need to get serious. Don’t mess this up. Did he use that word? Arrest?”
“Can you not do that in here, Stampy?” Jack glanced at the weight capacity of the elevator. “I won’t jack anything up.”