FICTION
Sins Of The Past Part 8
A Sunny Alexander-Johnson and Henry James Series By P.G. & Sharon Barnett
My name is Sunny Alexander-Johnson. And I’m Henry James, and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
After a quick search on our phones for the address of Gold’s storage, we drove back across town only to discover the storage facility was only two blocks away from the motel where we were staying.
Not necessarily ironic by any means, but undoubtedly convenient and a little bit frustrating. The thing about chasing down a story, especially one where the Fixer was involved, it usually meant we had our job cut out for us. Two things we knew we count on. We’d eventually stumble on what we needed to know, and the Fixer would toy with us until we did.
Around the entire storage facility, an eight-foot chain-link fence guaranteed that egress and digress was a controlled affair. On top of the fence, spaced about every five feet, a shaft of steel angled away from the complex, each shaft supporting four strands of barbed wire. There was a single motorized gate at the front entrance and beside the gate a pair of security keypads for after-hours access.
Fortunately for us, the gate was opened, and we entered, found the main office and went inside. Behind a short L shaped counter, a young woman sat watching some game show on a portable television. We stopped at the desk, expecting her to acknowledge us, but she continued to stare at the TV.
“Excuse me, miss. We…”
The young woman jerked her hand up and offered us an index finger, at the same time continuing to stare at the television show. When it went to commercial, she dropped her hand, then swung her chair around to face us.
“Sorry, but I been waiting for that episode all week. What can I do for you folks?”
“We’re looking for a decent storage facility, and a friend of ours says Gold’s the place. Dr. Hickom told us he’s been using Gold’s for a while and has never been disappointed.”
“Dr. Hickom? Can’t say as I know him. How big a space do you two need?”
“Well, the doctor recommended we get a space like his.”
The young woman frowned and rolled her eyes at the thought of actually being tasked to tear her attention away from her television show. We stood in silence as she moved her chair in front of a computer, then hammered away at the keyboard, her acrylic nails tapping out a sequence of commands.
“Alright, you two will need a thirty by ten. It’s an interior, second floor with a single rollup. It’s in the environmental section.”
“Environmental section?”
“Yes ma’am. As in environmentally controlled. Heat for the summer, A/C for the winter? We got us two different kinds here at Gold’s.”
“So how much?”
“Two hundred twenty-five a month.”
“Wow, kind of steep.”
“It’s the best climate-controlled storage in Lebanon sir. Also, we got the best security measures you’ll ever see.”
“Really.”
“Each of the climate controls has a pair of security keypads. One’s for numbers and the other for letters. You have to have a code for both to get in.”
“How do we program them?”
“We do it right here. This is pretty new age stuff, sir. From this terminal right here, I have access to all of the keypads. When you rent a space from Gold’s, you program your codes right here at the front desk.”
“What happens if somebody decides they don’t need the storage area anymore?”
“Well then ma’am, we just send a clear signal to the keypads and reprogram them when the next customer purchases it.”
“So anybody working here could just clear the codes and take what they want?”
“Mister, do you want a storage shed or not?”
“Yeah, but we want to take a look at it one first.”
“Fine.”
The young woman returned her attention to the computer screen, cupped a mouse, and began to scroll the screen in front of her. When she stopped, she leaned in for a closer inspection, then scribbled a set of numbers on a note pad, ripped the sheet off, and slid it across the counter.
“Okay, this one’s open. It’s on the second floor. The same side of the hallway as that doctor you mentioned but on the opposite end. Go outside, turn right, and go down the road until you see a two-story. Starway’s inside.”
And with that, she turned away and focused on the television again. After realizing we weren’t going to get much more from the young woman, we stepped back out and got in the car. After a short trip through the storage facility, we found the two-story and took the stairs to the second floor.
“Why didn’t we just take the freaking elevator?”
“It’s a freight elevator Henry.”
“And that’s a problem how?”
“Just quit bitching and help me find Dr. Hickom’s storage cubicle.”
“Fine. So what’s the one we’re supposed to be looking at?”
“Let’s see, okay down the hallway.”
We stopped in front of the cubicle we were supposed to be renting. The doorway had been rolled up, and although there were no lights on inside, we could see it was large enough to accommodate several rooms of furniture or a couple of small cars.
“Okay, then Hickom’s has to be the first one we passed at the top of the stairs.”
We walked back and faced the closed door of the storage cubicle and then realized we had a problem.
“Damn, Henry. Now what? She said there were two keypads. One for letters and one for numbers.”
“Yeah, and all we have are numbers.”
“What the hell do we do now?”
“She said she could send a clear signal to the keypads, remember?”
“Come on Henry, think about it. Why would she send a clear signal to Dr. Hickom’s storage area, especially for us? There’s no way in hell she’s going to do that.”
“Then we need to figure this shit out pretty soon, princess. And before she comes looking for us.”
Read On — Sins Of The Past Part 9
Let’s s keep in touch: P.G. & Sharon Barnett ([email protected]) © P.G. Barnett, 2020. All Rights Reserved.