Kyle (Hope City #4) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,31

the miracles of technology! We now have a route manager program. I got to be on the task force to decide which one was best, and after looking at quite a few, this is the one we chose. Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I don’t have anything to do. But it’s so much easier. I input all the deliveries that we have to make in Hope City and the surrounding areas. I put in the number of vans that we have available on any given day to make those deliveries and the timeframe in which we are working. This program does its magic and Poof, it creates delivery schedules for us. All I have to do is tweak them if needed and then print them out!”

Finally getting to the information he was seeking, Kyle jumped in quickly before she found another tangent to go off on. “I’m afraid we’re short on time, Ms. Rutgers. We need to know how far in advance the drivers are given their routes and who has access to the routes.”

Her face fell and she scrunched her nose in obvious disappointment at not continuing her tales. “Oh, I do realize you’re very busy, detectives. To answer your questions, the drivers are given their routes weekly. I don’t do it further out than that because there can always be changes. A pharmacy calls to change what they need. A new pharmacy is added to our client list. One of my drivers might be sick. But, first thing on Monday mornings, my drivers pick up their routes for the week and then, if I need to make changes during the week, I call them in to see me and give them an amended printout.”

“So, for the deliveries made last Friday by Charlie and Joe, they would’ve had that information the previous Monday morning?” Obtaining her nod, he jumped in quickly, “And who at Kilton has access to the routes?”

Her brow crinkled and her ever-present smile dropped from her face. “I confess, I haven’t really thought about that. Let’s see, obviously me and the drivers. I know the drivers talk amongst themselves… sometimes they’re convinced that someone gets an easier route than they have so they like to compare, which, quite frankly, irritates me—”

“Anyone else?”

“My direct supervisor, Mr. Trogdon, and, of course, the supervisor over the whole warehouse that you met this morning, Mr. Myles. We want to be very sure that no one gets in and messes with my system so I don’t think anyone else would know what they are.”

“Are the routes posted up anywhere?” Alex interjected.

“Oh, no! The drivers have to come in and see me personally to get their routes.”

“And if you happen to be out…”

Her wide smile back on her face, Tammy preened. “Detectives, I haven’t missed a day of work in almost twenty years. I do believe I’m up for another award!”

Kimberly met Bob at the back entrance to the warehouse. The nudge from Sidney gave her the idea to start finding out about more of the workers, and she called Bob to ask if he had anyone she could interview.

“Well, if you’re looking for interesting characters that have been around for a long time, come on over.”

As they walked through the cavernous building, she was fascinated at the massive, metal shelving units that held thousands of boxes of pharmaceuticals. As they weaved through the aisles, Bob would stop and introduce her to a number of the workers.

She met new hires who were excited to have the pay and benefits. She chatted with employees who had been working for many years, several sharing their stories of the changes in the pharmaceutical industry. Invited to have lunch in their workroom, she gleefully pulled out her notepad and scribbled as they continued sharing.

An older man sitting across from her said, “This warehouse is a helluva lot better than what I used to work in. I started on the docks of Hope City about thirty years ago. ‘Course, that wasn’t in this industry… I was working for a steel shipping company. Those warehouses were freezing in the winter and boiling hot in the summer. And dirty… have mercy, they were dirty.”

“How long have you worked for Kilton?” she asked, wishing she could take his picture, wanting to capture the deep creases in his face that told of long years of hard work.

“Started at the beginning. I reckon that’s been about twenty years ago. It was always a lot nicer than down on the

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