Free Breach of Duty (9780061739637) by Judith A. Jance Page A

had caused paint to flake and peel, including the paint on the fake-wood panels.
    Unlatching the now-unlocked front door, I held it open long enough for Sue to step inside the storefront office. At a chest-high counter just inside the door stood an immense man. He wore a fleece-lined jacket over frayed Levi’s and mud-spattered boots. Frowning with concentration, he was painstakingly filling in the blanks on a rental form. On the other side of the linoleum-topped counter stood a woman I assumed to be Mildred George. She was tall and angular with iron-gray hair cut in what we used to call a bob. She wore one of those short, wool jacket/ sweaters that would have been more at home in a country-club setting than in that run-down, dingy office.
    From what Sue had told me, I knew Andrew George was Agnes Ferman’s older brother. Agnes herself had been sixty-seven when she died. The brief glimpses I had caught of Andrew placed his age at anywhere from seventy-five to eighty. The poised, well-manicured woman behind the counter, however, looked to be a good deal younger than that—mid-to late-fifties, tops.
    She waved to acknowledge our arrival without losing the beat of her telephone conversation. “We’ve been over this before, Mr. Tully,” she explained patiently. “Your son-in-law is not allowed to drive any of our vehicles—not even in an emergency. He’s an unapproved driver, Mr. Tully. If Rob does use one of our trucks and has any kind of accident, the insurance is null and void and you’re liable. Period.”
    There was a pause. The woman held the phone away from her ear while Mr. Tully gave vent to a series of explosive-sounding comments.
    â€œI know it’s a busy time of year for your nursery business, Mr. Tully,” she said reasonably, once the tirade was finished. “It’s busy for us, too. But Rob already had that one accident. And, as you know, he has two other tickets besides.”
    There was another pause. “In that case,” she said. “I suggest you have one of your other employees do the driving.”
    Another angry outburst blew through the phone line. It was loud enough for Sue and me to hear Mr. Tully sputtering although neither of us could make out any of the individual words.
    â€œOf course I understand that based on this you may have to take your business elsewhere. If that’s the case, we’ll certainly be sorry to lose you…”
    Mildred stopped talking in midsentence. A buzzing dial tone told everyone in the office that Mr. Tully had slammed down the receiver on his end. She put the phone down and calmly collected the paperwork the other customer had pushed across the counter in her direction. Meanwhile she smiled up at the behemoth of a man standing before her. She seemed totally unruffled by his size, his mane of wildly unruly red hair, his tattered red flannel shirt, or his several missing teeth.
    â€œHow long do you think you’ll be needing the truck, Mr. Parker?” she asked politely.
    â€œA week or so,” he said. “Two at the outside, but I’ll have to let you know when we get a little closer to the end of the job.”
    Mildred George and Mr. Parker set about finalizing the deal. Minutes later, Mr. Parker stuffed a wad of rental-agreement paperwork and a set of car keys into his pocket. “I’ll be back for the truck in about an hour,” he said. “Soon as I get this one home and get my wife to drive me back.”
    â€œThat’ll be fine,” Mildred George said with a gracious smile. “You know which truck is yours. You’re welcome to come pick it up from the lot whenever it’s convenient. As long as you have both the key and the rental agreement, you can do that even if the office is closed.”
    â€œThank you, ma’am,” he said. “You’ve been a big help.”
    As the door closed on the departing Mr. Parker, a poised and businesslike