They’d fallen into this pattern over the past several months. The easy collaboration felt natural and right. Her office was located on the main floor, occupying most of the space. There was a break room with a small kitchenette and bathrooms. An elevator was located just down the hall, operated by Keepers only and secured with retina and fingerprint scans. Some days, Mary spent as much time in the underground work areas of the main compound as she did on the upper floor. The proximity allowed them to work together constantly, coordinating orders, managing inventory, and handling travel needs for missions. Mary was also responsible for managing the payroll, finances, and employee needs.
It also meant Bert saw her constantly, which was both a blessing and a particular kind of sweet torture.
Mary had transformed her work area dramatically since her first day in the main building. What had been an empty room with basic furniture was now an organized, efficient workspace that somehow also felt warm and inviting. She’d added a few personal touches, such as a photo of her family on the desk, several plants, and Montana landscape photographs hanging on the walls.
The desk was positioned so she could roll right up to it, and she’d organized everything with the kind of systematic precision that made Bert’s logistic heart happy. Most of her work was kept on the computer, but the locked credenza behind her held the paperwork necessary for the business. The area could have been the reception area for any business, but since they handled their case possibilities remotely, no one else would be there except the Keepers.
Bert pulled up the extra chair he’d long ago claimed as “his” during their working sessions and settled in beside her desk. Mary spread the requisition forms out, and they bent over them together, their heads close as they reviewed Todd’s requests.
“Okay,” she said, pulling up the budget spreadsheet on her computer. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
For the next three hours, they worked side by side, reviewing numbers, discussing options, and making notes for Logan. It was the kind of detailed, tedious work that would have driven Bert crazy if he’d been doing it alone, but with Mary, it felt different. She had a way of making even budget reviews interesting, pointing out patterns he wouldn’t have noticed, and asking questions that made him think about things from new angles.
She was also funny, slipping in dry observations that made him laugh unexpectedly. When they got to a particularly expensive item, she raised an eyebrow and said, “Well, if we’re going to protect people, might as well do it with the best equipment. Though I’m pretty sure this one rifle costs more than my first car.”
“Your first car must have been pretty nice, then,” Bert countered, and she’d laughed.
“It was a fifteen-year-old Honda Civic with a dent in the passenger door and a CD player that only worked on Thursdays. So no, this rifle is definitely pricier.”
They worked well together, complementing each other’s strengths. Bert understood the technical specifications and practical applications of the equipment. Mary understood budgets, timing, and managing multiple vendors. Together, they created a system that was efficient, cost-effective, and ensured LSIMT had what it needed when it needed it.
By the time they finished, the afternoon sun slanted through the window at a sharp angle. Mary stretched, rolling her shoulders back, and Bert had to look away from the graceful line of her neck.
“Ready to go look at that apartment?” she asked, saving the files and shutting down her computer.
“Absolutely. I’ll follow you over?”
They made their way outside, where the air had taken on a distinct chill. Bert waited while Mary went through the process of getting into her van, fighting the urge to hover. She’d made it clear early on that she had her system and didn’t need assistance, and he respected that even when every instinct told him to help.
The apartment building on Cutter’s Lane was a low-slung, two-story structure that had clearly been built in the seventies and updated periodically since. The exterior was a bland beige with brown trim, and the parking lot had seen better days, but it was clean and well-maintained. A ramp led to the main entrance, and Bert noted with approval that it looked sturdy and had a gentle grade.
Mary was already out of her van when he pulled up beside her, and they headed inside together. The manager, a balding man in his sixties, waited in the small lobby.
“Ms. Smithwick,” he said, his relief evident. “Good to finally meet you in person. I have to say, your persistence impressed me.”
Mary smiled, shaking his hand. “I’m very motivated to find a place closer to work, Mr. Patterson. Thank you for allowing me to get in early.”
“Well, we had to update the building anyway to meet current codes, so it made sense to do it right. If we agreed to have 30 percent of the apartments wheelchair accessible, then we got a grant to cover most of the renovations.” Mr. Patterson gestured down the hallway. “The unit is this way. It’s a one-bedroom that’s been fully modified.”
“And you will rent month-to-month?”
“Yes, ma’am. I have several older persons who will want the other apartments, and that allows them a little more flexibility to get out of a lease if they end up moving to a facility, or in with family, or… um… well…”
“Or if they pass away,” Mary finished for him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, nodding.
“That also works for me since I’ll be looking at houses as soon as I can.”
They followed him down a corridor with a tile floor and overhead fluorescent lighting that hummed faintly. He stopped at a door marked 1C and unlocked it, then pushed it open and stepped aside.
“Take your time looking around. I’ll be in the office when you’re ready.”
Mary rolled through the doorway, and Bert followed, immediately assessing the space. He was concerned whether this place would work for Mary, whether she’d be safe here, and if she’d be comfortable.
The apartment opened directly into a combined living room and kitchen area. It was small in total square footage but efficiently laid out. The laminate wood-style floors were smooth and even, making them perfect for wheelchair navigation. The kitchen was located along one wall, with lowered countertops and cabinets that were within easy reach. The sink was shallow, the stove had front controls, and there was space beneath the counter for Mary to roll under while working.
“The kitchen layout is good,” Mary said, rolling over to examine it more closely. She opened cabinets, tested the faucet, and ran her hand along the counter. “Counter height is perfect. I can actually reach things.”