CHAPTER TWELVE
The shift supervisor’s office at Port Jersey was a white trailer on cinder blocks—likely so it could be easily moved by crane if need be, Reid thought. The man with the white hard hat led the way up three wooden stairs and pushed the door open, closing it again behind them. It was not at all lost on him that the supervisor twisted the locking mechanism in the knob.
Reid had agreed to come with him under the pretense of coffee and a few phone calls, but those were far from his mind at the moment. This man knew something, and Reid was going to find out what it was.
“How do you take it?” the supervisor asked. He crossed the short span to a narrow table set up with a coffee machine, paper cups, and powdered creamer.
“Black is fine. Thanks.” Reid quickly surveyed the office f
