tell him. I don’t think laughing at someone on the phone is a crime.”
“Yeah, it’s probably something to keep to yourself for now. But you can be certain of one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If your caller was someone connected to Sarah’s disappearance, he’ll call again.”
CHAPTER SIX
T erry’s weekend passed without incident. The laughing caller didn’t call and neither did Sarah. Holman was his only caller and he had little to say. Terry didn’t see much point in sitting around the house driving himself crazy with worry, so he decided to go into Genavax on Monday, as scheduled.
At the reception desk, he asked for Pamela Dawson. When she arrived, she greeted him with the same offhand manner she’d used on the phone. She gave him a lightning-fast tour of the shared research, development, discovery, and testing labs punctuated with brief introductions to his new colleagues along the way. After the tour, Pamela dumped him with human resources.
Jenny Kuo, the human resources manager, greeted him with a broad grin, flashing a perfect set of white teeth, albeit one slightly too large for her mouth.
“You must be very excited to be working in a new country,” she said. “I know I was.”
Terry nodded, warming to her enthusiasm.
“Sorry to hear about your wife, though.”
Jenny escorted Terry to her office and proceeded to march him through his terms and conditions and benefits package. The topic of his vacation allowance left a bruise. The ten vacation days were a far cry from the five-week entitlement he had enjoyed asthe norm in England. Now he understood why American tour parties blasted through England as part of a five-day whirlwind tour of Europe. Jenny tried to soften the blow with personal days.
“Personal days, what’s that?”
“It’s your sick allowance for you and your family. If you have a sick family member to look after or need a mental health day, then take a day.”
“Mental health day?”
“If work or life is getting you down, you can take a day away from it all—a mental health day.” Jenny beamed, showing more healthy teeth.
Terry thought mental health days were a generous gesture, but they weren’t going to make up for his loss of vacation days. He felt the need for a mental health day just thinking about it.
A review of Genavax’s safety practices ate up the rest of the morning, and they broke for lunch. Jenny pointed out the staff cafeteria to Terry but excused herself from joining him. She had a lunch date elsewhere.
The lunchroom was a rectangle of duck’s-egg-blue blandness. It was small for supporting the hundred or so Genavax employees, but after reviewing the menu, he saw why Genavax didn’t require a larger lunchroom. Snack machines ran along one wall and seemed to be enjoying more fervent business.
Terry bought a tuna sandwich, a yogurt, and a carton of orange juice. He sat at a table by himself. He wasn’t up to the awkward new-guy intros. He spread out his small meal and a newspaper he’d swiped from reception. He hoped this display wouldn’t invite company.
His ploy worked for about five minutes.
“Dude, you the new guy?”
And you must be the surfer
, Terry thought. The tie-dyed T-shirted and jeans-clad man was everything the brochure said a Californian surfer should be. His shaggy blond locks and miles of deep tan relayed a “Surf’s up” attitude. The only problem wasthat the surfer dude was a little too old for the image. He was closer to forty than twenty.
“English, right?”
“Yeah, I’m English,” Terry agreed.
“Cool. Very cool,” he said nodding to himself. “They said a foreign guy was starting.”
“I’m foreign, all right.”
“Jeez, I’m being rude. Kyle Hemple.” Kyle rubbed his palm on the back of his jeans and snapped out a hand.
Terry took it and shook. “Terry Sheffield.”
“D’you mind if I chow down with you?” Kyle indicated to a vacant chair.
“Knock yourself out.”
“Cool.”
Kyle
“Yeah, it’s probably something to keep to yourself for now. But you can be certain of one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If your caller was someone connected to Sarah’s disappearance, he’ll call again.”
CHAPTER SIX
T erry’s weekend passed without incident. The laughing caller didn’t call and neither did Sarah. Holman was his only caller and he had little to say. Terry didn’t see much point in sitting around the house driving himself crazy with worry, so he decided to go into Genavax on Monday, as scheduled.
At the reception desk, he asked for Pamela Dawson. When she arrived, she greeted him with the same offhand manner she’d used on the phone. She gave him a lightning-fast tour of the shared research, development, discovery, and testing labs punctuated with brief introductions to his new colleagues along the way. After the tour, Pamela dumped him with human resources.
Jenny Kuo, the human resources manager, greeted him with a broad grin, flashing a perfect set of white teeth, albeit one slightly too large for her mouth.
“You must be very excited to be working in a new country,” she said. “I know I was.”
Terry nodded, warming to her enthusiasm.
“Sorry to hear about your wife, though.”
Jenny escorted Terry to her office and proceeded to march him through his terms and conditions and benefits package. The topic of his vacation allowance left a bruise. The ten vacation days were a far cry from the five-week entitlement he had enjoyed asthe norm in England. Now he understood why American tour parties blasted through England as part of a five-day whirlwind tour of Europe. Jenny tried to soften the blow with personal days.
“Personal days, what’s that?”
“It’s your sick allowance for you and your family. If you have a sick family member to look after or need a mental health day, then take a day.”
“Mental health day?”
“If work or life is getting you down, you can take a day away from it all—a mental health day.” Jenny beamed, showing more healthy teeth.
Terry thought mental health days were a generous gesture, but they weren’t going to make up for his loss of vacation days. He felt the need for a mental health day just thinking about it.
A review of Genavax’s safety practices ate up the rest of the morning, and they broke for lunch. Jenny pointed out the staff cafeteria to Terry but excused herself from joining him. She had a lunch date elsewhere.
The lunchroom was a rectangle of duck’s-egg-blue blandness. It was small for supporting the hundred or so Genavax employees, but after reviewing the menu, he saw why Genavax didn’t require a larger lunchroom. Snack machines ran along one wall and seemed to be enjoying more fervent business.
Terry bought a tuna sandwich, a yogurt, and a carton of orange juice. He sat at a table by himself. He wasn’t up to the awkward new-guy intros. He spread out his small meal and a newspaper he’d swiped from reception. He hoped this display wouldn’t invite company.
His ploy worked for about five minutes.
“Dude, you the new guy?”
And you must be the surfer
, Terry thought. The tie-dyed T-shirted and jeans-clad man was everything the brochure said a Californian surfer should be. His shaggy blond locks and miles of deep tan relayed a “Surf’s up” attitude. The only problem wasthat the surfer dude was a little too old for the image. He was closer to forty than twenty.
“English, right?”
“Yeah, I’m English,” Terry agreed.
“Cool. Very cool,” he said nodding to himself. “They said a foreign guy was starting.”
“I’m foreign, all right.”
“Jeez, I’m being rude. Kyle Hemple.” Kyle rubbed his palm on the back of his jeans and snapped out a hand.
Terry took it and shook. “Terry Sheffield.”
“D’you mind if I chow down with you?” Kyle indicated to a vacant chair.
“Knock yourself out.”
“Cool.”
Kyle
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