we’re still looking.” Ben’s eyes stopped on the full gun rack behind the seats. “Can I see your permits for those?”
The driver looked at the gun rack, then back to Ben “Sure, no problem.” He shifted his weight forward, grunted as he leaned over, and opened the glove box. He hated to lean forward like this. It was fucking uncomfortable, and it usually gave him heartburn. “Can’t believe he’d leave her alone in a car like that. Oughta have his head examined,” he growled, barely able to get the words out. His thick fingers scraped up the permits; he leaned back, caught his breath, and handed them to Ben.
“Thanks,” Ben said as he took the permits. “What’s your name?”
“Frank Rucka,” the big man said.
“You staying here the night?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, figured so, what with the grade closing and all.”
Ben perused the permits. A breeze shifted slightly, and he could smell a thick, rancid odor. Ben hesitated and looked up. “What’re you hauling back there, Frank?”
Shit. He could smell it. For the first time, Frank seemed anxious. “It’s a shipment for Costco.”
“Where’s your manifest?”
Frank hesitated.
Ben looked more closely at the corpulent, asthmatic man; his intuition kicked in. There was something more going on here. “You have a manifest?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Frank reached down between the cab’s seats and pulled up a clipboard.
He passed it to Ben, who glanced it over until he found the description of the cargo. “Meat?”
“Yeah.”
“Deli meat?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a little overdue, isn’t it? You were supposed to have it in Phoenix last week.”
“Yeah, I was. I just…I had a little trouble.”
Ben looked back at Frank, studied him for a moment more, then said, “Show me.”
Moments later, Frank unlatched the back door to his truck and pushed it open. The smell hit Ben hard. It cut through even the cold and wet of the Utah night. “Jesus,” Ben coughed. “You have a light back here? Turn on the light.”
Frank reached over and snapped a switch. A dim overhead light illuminated the large space. Several pallets of packaged deli meats were stacked in the center. Thick brown puddles of rancid juice surrounded them.
“This is a health hazard, Frank.” Ben said. “You know that?”
Frank did know it. He took a moment before answering quietly. “Yeah. I got stuck down south for a few days, and the refrigerator unit burned out.”
“And you just left it back there?” Ben said. “What the hell are you planning to do with it?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know,” Frank confessed. “I had a similar problem last month. They said if it happened again, I’d lose my job.”
Ben looked over at the depressed, heavyset man and felt sorry for him. He had been right. There was a lot more going on. He handed the manifest back to Frank “Well, my advice is to dump it and let them know. You’re putting off the inevitable. If they’re going to fire you, they’re going to fire you. You’re only making things worse for yourself by avoiding it.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re right. As soon as I can get out of here, I’m gonna bring it on in and face the music.”
Ben thought about saying something more, but realized he had probably said enough already. The strangeness out here tonight seemed to be getting stranger. Instead, Ben got back to his business. “If you see anything tonight, you let me know, all right?”
“Of course.”
Ben nodded and started away.
Frank closed the back of his truck and watched Ben leave. He had wanted to tell Ben much more, but he knew he couldn’t trust him. He couldn’t trust anyone with what was going on with him. It was too dark. Too deep.
__________
Ben was heading toward the glossy maroon rig when he decided to take a detour. He cut over to Roger’s Mustang instead, clicked on his flashlight and shone it around outside. Nothing seemed unusual. The doors were locked.
The driver looked at the gun rack, then back to Ben “Sure, no problem.” He shifted his weight forward, grunted as he leaned over, and opened the glove box. He hated to lean forward like this. It was fucking uncomfortable, and it usually gave him heartburn. “Can’t believe he’d leave her alone in a car like that. Oughta have his head examined,” he growled, barely able to get the words out. His thick fingers scraped up the permits; he leaned back, caught his breath, and handed them to Ben.
“Thanks,” Ben said as he took the permits. “What’s your name?”
“Frank Rucka,” the big man said.
“You staying here the night?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, figured so, what with the grade closing and all.”
Ben perused the permits. A breeze shifted slightly, and he could smell a thick, rancid odor. Ben hesitated and looked up. “What’re you hauling back there, Frank?”
Shit. He could smell it. For the first time, Frank seemed anxious. “It’s a shipment for Costco.”
“Where’s your manifest?”
Frank hesitated.
Ben looked more closely at the corpulent, asthmatic man; his intuition kicked in. There was something more going on here. “You have a manifest?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Frank reached down between the cab’s seats and pulled up a clipboard.
He passed it to Ben, who glanced it over until he found the description of the cargo. “Meat?”
“Yeah.”
“Deli meat?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a little overdue, isn’t it? You were supposed to have it in Phoenix last week.”
“Yeah, I was. I just…I had a little trouble.”
Ben looked back at Frank, studied him for a moment more, then said, “Show me.”
Moments later, Frank unlatched the back door to his truck and pushed it open. The smell hit Ben hard. It cut through even the cold and wet of the Utah night. “Jesus,” Ben coughed. “You have a light back here? Turn on the light.”
Frank reached over and snapped a switch. A dim overhead light illuminated the large space. Several pallets of packaged deli meats were stacked in the center. Thick brown puddles of rancid juice surrounded them.
“This is a health hazard, Frank.” Ben said. “You know that?”
Frank did know it. He took a moment before answering quietly. “Yeah. I got stuck down south for a few days, and the refrigerator unit burned out.”
“And you just left it back there?” Ben said. “What the hell are you planning to do with it?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know,” Frank confessed. “I had a similar problem last month. They said if it happened again, I’d lose my job.”
Ben looked over at the depressed, heavyset man and felt sorry for him. He had been right. There was a lot more going on. He handed the manifest back to Frank “Well, my advice is to dump it and let them know. You’re putting off the inevitable. If they’re going to fire you, they’re going to fire you. You’re only making things worse for yourself by avoiding it.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re right. As soon as I can get out of here, I’m gonna bring it on in and face the music.”
Ben thought about saying something more, but realized he had probably said enough already. The strangeness out here tonight seemed to be getting stranger. Instead, Ben got back to his business. “If you see anything tonight, you let me know, all right?”
“Of course.”
Ben nodded and started away.
Frank closed the back of his truck and watched Ben leave. He had wanted to tell Ben much more, but he knew he couldn’t trust him. He couldn’t trust anyone with what was going on with him. It was too dark. Too deep.
__________
Ben was heading toward the glossy maroon rig when he decided to take a detour. He cut over to Roger’s Mustang instead, clicked on his flashlight and shone it around outside. Nothing seemed unusual. The doors were locked.
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