“Then don’t let me keep you from it,” Tracy said. “You wouldn’t mind?” Carl said. “I’ll have my cellular phone. You can call me, and I can be back here in twenty minutes tops.”
“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Tracy said. “In fact, I’d feel bad if you missed it on my account.”
The car’s instrument panel splashed light on Kim’s face. Marsha stole glances at him as she drove. Now that she’d had a chance to observe him, she had to admit to herself that he was a handsome man even with his two-day stubble.
They drove in silence for quite a ways. Finally Marsha was able to get Kim talking about Becky. She had a feeling it would be good for him to talk about his daughter and she was right. Kim warmed to the subject. He regaled Marsha with stories of Becky’s skating exploits, something Tracy had not mentioned.
When the conversation about Becky lapsed, Marsha had talked a little about herself, explaining that she’d been through veterinary school. She’d described how she and a girlfriend had become interested in the USDA and had vowed to join the agency to make a difference. She’d explained that after graduation, they’d discovered there were obstacles for them to get into the veterinarian side of the USDA. The only entry-level positions available were with the inspectional services. In the end, it had only been Marsha who’d joined. The friend had decided the year or so it would take to be transferred was too big a sacrifice and had opted for private veterinarian practice.
“Veterinary school?” Kim questioned. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”
“Why not?” Marsha asked.
“I don’t know exactly,” Kim said. “Maybe you are a little too . . .” Kim paused as he struggled for a word. Finally he said: “…too elegant, I guess. I know it’s probably unfair, but I’d expect someone to be more..”
“More what?” Marsha asked as Kim paused again. She was enjoying Kim’s mild discomfort.
“I guess tomboyish,” Kim said. He chuckled. “I suppose that’s a stupid thing to say.”
Marsha laughed too. At least he could hear how ridiculous he sounded.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Kim said, “how old are you? I know that’s an inappropriate question, but unless you are some kind of child prodigy, you’re not in your early twenties like I’d guessed.”
“Heavens, no,” Marsha said. “I’m twenty-nine, pushing thirty.”
Marsha leaned forward and turned on the windshield wipers. It had started to rain. It was already as dark as pitch even though it was only a little after six in the evening.
“How are we going to work this?” Kim questioned.
“Work what?” Marsha asked.
“My getting into Mercer Meats.” Kim said.
“I told you, it won’t be a problem,” Marsha said. “The day shift is long gone along with the supervisors. Only the overtime cleaning crew will be there, along with a security guard.”
“Well, the guard’s not going to be excited about letting me in,” Kim said. “Maybe I should just wait in the car.”
“Security is not going to be a problem,” Marsha said. “I have both my USDA and Mercer Meats I.D.’s.”
“That’s fine for you,” Kim said. “But what about me?”
“Don’t worry,” Marsha said. “They know me. They’ve never once even asked to see my I.D. If it comes up, I’ll say you’re my supervisor. Or I’ll say I’m training you.” She laughed.
“I’m not dressed like someone from the USDA,” Kim said.
Marsha shot Kim a glance and giggled some more. “What does a night security man know? I think you look bizarre enough to pass for most anything.”
“You seem awfully cavalier about this,” Kim commented.
“Well, what’s the worst-case scenario?” Marsha said. “We don’t get in.”
“And you get into trouble,” Kim said.
“I’ve already thought of that,” Marsha said. “What happens, happens.”
Marsha exited the expressway and started through Bartonville. They had to stop at the single traffic light in the town, where Mercer Street met Main Street.
“When I think about hamburger,” Marsha said, “I’m surprised anyone eats it. I was a half-ass vegetarian before this job. Now I’m a committed one.”
“Coming from a USDA meat inspector, that’s not very reassuring,” Kim said.