“Give me that goddamn book,” Jack Cartwright yelled.
Marsha and Kim leaped in fright as Jack lunged around Marsha and snatched up the ponderous logbooks. The noise from the high-pressure steam had kept them from hearing the man enter the patty room and approach them.
“Now you have finally overstepped your bounds. Miss Baldwin!” Jack sneered triumphantly, while pointing an accusatory finger into Marsha’s face.
Marsha straightened up and tried to regain her composure. “What are you talking about?” she asked, attempting to sound authoritative. “I have a right to examine the logs.”
“The hell you do’ Jack said, while continuing to poke his finger at Marsha. “You have the right to ascertain we keep the logs, but the logs themselves are private property of a private company. And more important, you do not have the right to bring in the public under the authority of the USDA to look at these logs.”
“That’s enough,” Kim said. He stepped between the two. “If anybody is to blame here it’s me.”
Jack ignored Kim. “One thing I can assure you, Miss Baldwin, is that Sterling Henderson, the district USDA manager, is going to hear about this violation of yours ASAP.”
Kim batted Jack’s brutish finger to the side and grabbed a handful of the man’s white coat. “Listen, you oily bastard..”
Marsha gripped Kim’s arm. “No!” she cried. “Leave him alone. Let’s not compound this.”
Reluctantly Kim let go.
Jack smoothed his lapels. “I want you two out of here,” he snarled, “before I call the police and have you arrested.”
Kim glared back at the Mercer Meats vice president. For a blind instant the man was the embodiment of all Kim’s anger. Marsha had to pull on his sleeve to get him to leave.
Jack watched them go. As soon as the door closed, he hoisted the logs up to chest height and slipped them into their appropriate shelves. Then he followed them into the changing room. Marsha and Kim were already gone. Out in the hall he walked down to the reception area. He got there in time to see Marsha’s car leaving the lot and accelerating up the street.
“They didn’t pay me no attention,” the guard said. “I tried to tell them they had to sign out.”
“It doesn’t make any difference,” Jack said.
Jack walked back to his office and phoned Everett.
“Well, what did you learn?” Everett demanded.
“It was just as I suspected,” Jack said. “They were in the patty room, looking at the patty-room logs.”
“They weren’t looking at the formulation logs?” Everett asked.
“The guard said they hadn’t gone anyplace but the patty room,” Jack said. “So they couldn’t have looked at the formulation logs.”
“At least that’s a blessing,” Everett said. “The last thing I want is for someone to find out we’re recycling outdated frozen patties. And that might happen if someone were to snoop around in the formulation logs.”
“That’s not a worry with this crisis,” Jack said. “What is a worry is that this duo might end up at Higgins and Hancock. I heard them talking about Higgins and Hancock before I surprised them. I think Daryl Webster should be warned.”
“An excellent idea,” Everett said. “We can mention it to Daryl when we see him tonight. Better yet, maybe I’ll give him a quick call.”
“The sooner the better,” Jack said. “Who knows what these two might do, as crazy as that doctor seems to be.”
“See you at Bobby Bo’s,” Everett said.
“I might be a tad late,” Jack said. “I’ve got to go all the way back home to change before I drive over there.”
“Well, get a move on,” Everett said. “I want you there for the Prevention Committee meeting.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Jack said.
Everett hung up the phone and then searched for Daryl Webster’s phone number. He was in his upstairs study off his dressing room, half-dressed in his tuxedo. When Jack had called he’d been struggling with his shirt studs. Formal attire was not a common requirement in Everett’s life.
“Everett!” Gladys Sorenson called from the master bedroom. Gladys and Everett had been married for more years than Everett wished to acknowledge. “You’d better shake a leg, dear. We’re due over at the Masons’ in half an hour.”