“What for?”
So I can see what I can do to fix this hot, steaming mess you dropped in my lap, Bastien wanted to say. “Because it’s going to rain,” Bastien said reasonably. “You don’t want your new detail job to be ruined by the rain, do you? Give me the keys and let me handle this.”
He kept his voice low and looked back over his shoulder. His crew hadn’t gone yet. They weren’t exactly eavesdropping but they weren’t making any moves to disperse, either. When Bastien looked back at them, Melvin shoved his hands in his coverall pockets and bent his head to examine his shoes, Jayden pretended to be scraping dirt from his fingernails with his pocketknife, and Alonzo suddenly seemed to be more interested in the clouds sailing overhead than in the brewing confrontation between Remy and Bastien.
“You don’t have to handle anything,” Remy said, stepping out of the van. He slapped at his chest with his open palm. “I told you. I’ve got this. The only thing you need to do is get me that work rotation schedule.”
Bastien blinked, caught off guard by Remy’s request. Bastien knew by Remy’s tone that it wasn’t a request. He was serious.
“The rotation schedule?”
“The new rotation schedule for the month. I need it on my desk before you leave tonight.”
“It’s due Fridays,” Bastien reminded him. “By close of business.” Bastien never failed to provide the shift schedule to Remy on time. It had been due every Friday since before he started working at CT Inspectorate. Why was Remy sweating him now for it?
“I’ll be too busy to review it Friday. I need it now, Bastien, before you leave.”
Bastien considered telling Remy what he could do with that rotation schedule. It was only Monday. Remy didn’t need it now.
“Fine,” Bastien conceded. “You’ll have it on your desk when you get into the office in the morning.”
“I don’t think you heard me,” Remy said. “I want it tonight. And I want it done right.” Remy paused, giving Bastien a humorless smile by forcing up the corners of his mouth. “Whatcha eyeballing me for, cuz? It’s not my fault we’re a couple men short and have to jump through hoops to make up for lost time. Your screwup. You fix it.”
Bastien couldn’t argue with that. One of the reasons he was taking his crew off-site was to discuss a rash of accidents that had put one of his employees in the hospital, another on administrative leave. But he didn’t need Remy throwing that fact in his face. Bastien was all too aware of the problems his workers had.
“Fine,” Bastien repeated, turning his back on Remy. He called out to the group, still waiting for him, and waved them on.
“You boys go on and get the party started without me,” he said. “I won’t be long.” He hustled inside and wondered if all his extra efforts could truly turn his accident-plagued division around.
Chapter 2
B y the time Bastien pulled into the parking lot at the Fast Lanz bowling alley four hours later than he’d planned, it was almost closing time. The parking lot was close to empty with a scattering of vehicles that he didn’t recognize. None of the cars that remained belonged to his employees. So he pulled into a spot near the side entrance, waving at Solly’s son Samuel, who was hauling trash out to the Dumpster.
“They’re all gone, Mr. T,” Samuel said in greeting as he struggled to lift the heavy plastic lid on the huge, industrial Dumpster and toss in two overstuffed garbage bags.
“I figured that,” Bastien said, grabbing a couple bags himself and flinging them into the bin. One by one, as each of his employees had left the bowling alley, they’d called while he was still in his office finishing Remy’s schedule or left messages on his cell phone.
“Dad is still inside,” Samuel said, pointing with his thumb back over his shoulder.
Bastien went inside and found his friend sitting at one of the tables across from the snack bar.
Solomon Greenwood looked up and pulled out a chair.
“You’re late,” he said in greeting. “The others waited as long as they could then had to cut out.”
Bastien flopped down in a chair, a sudden weariness dragging his shoulders in a slump. “I know. I saw Samuel outside and he told me.” Bastien paused and asked, “What did he do that you’ve got him on trash detail?”
Samuel was only five feet tall, small for a fifteen year old. He suffered from asthma and looked as though one of those trash bags would crush him if they fell on him. Solly usually kept him on light cleanup detail: straightening the shoe rack, wiping down the lane keypads with disinfectant wipes, restocking the restrooms.
“Sammy brought home a D in algebra,” Solly growled. “Got his head twisted around by some little gal in his English class so he’s lost his focus.”
“Give him a break, Solly. Samuel’s a good kid.”
“And he needs good grades to get into a good college. I ain’t playin’ with that boy, Bastien. He’s got two weeks to bring that D up or I swear I’m gonna kill him.”
“You’re not gonna hurt your only son,” Bastien contradicted. He rose from his seat, walked around to the snack bar and started to help himself to whatever wasn’t put away. He made himself a heaping tray of corn chips and drowned it with two ladles of melted cheese and chili sauce.
He pulled a bottled soda out of the cooler for himself and a beer for Solly, then rejoined him at the table.
“You missed out,” Solly told Bastien. “Without you at the table tonight, it was all ragging and no resolutions. What are you going to do about the gripe this month?” Solly initiated the conversation. “The crew said no raises this year. Salaries are frozen. Is that right?”
“Not much I can do, now. My budget’s busted. You know what that fool Remy did?”
Solly threw back his head, laughing so loud that it echoed through the entire bowling alley. “Yeah, I heard. You should have been here to hear Jayden scheming about how he was gonna take the keys from Remy. Remy had better watch his back. That young blood’s got some creative ideas for jacking your cousin for that van.”
“Oh, you think that’s funny?” Bastien was not amused. “Thanks to Remy, my advertising budget is gone. No advertising, no new customers. No new customers, no contracts. No contracts, no bonus payouts.”
“Yeah, I understand. Though I can’t complain myself. This economy’s kicking our tails, but my business is up fifteen percent.” He shook a handful of receipts at Bastien. “Will you look at this? You know what they’re calling staying close to home to have fun? Staycations! This is the best month I’ve had all year, and it’s only May.”
“Glad to hear business is good for you,” Bastien said with a wry smile. “I’ve got G-Paw on my back about those lost time accidents. Folks that I hired on and I vouched for are messin’ up—got Chas to convince G-Paw to pay for their transfer and moving expenses from the Louisiana office. Now they’re all messing up! I’ve had one slip and fall. One serious cut on the hand. Sliced a nerve so that I don’t
