FEAR CHILLS. PANIC KILLS.
It started with a simple decision. The right one, Katie thought. She still did.
As office manager, she was in charge of decorating for the annual Christmas party. It wasn't much. It never was, but her employees were like family and she wanted to give them the holiday cheer their employer showed.
Which was why she made the choice. How could she have said no?
But, it had put into motion forces she didn't expect. Now, the dominoes in Katie's life were starting to fall and time was running out.
Her act of kindness was devolving into a life of shame. She was supposed to be handing out snacks at soccer games and smiles at the plant. Instead, she was hiding secrets from her kids, lying to her police officer husband, and betraying the ruthless man she called her boss.
Her big heart wasn't going to save her this time. Her small town was becoming a prison of her own making and any chance of escape was shrinking by the second.
Stuck at a crossroad of fear and panic, Katie has to do something.
And quick.
Or her next secret may be her last.
FEAR CHILLS. PANIC KILLS.
It started with a simple decision. The right one, Katie thought. She still did.
As office manager, she was in charge of decorating for the annual Christmas party. It wasn't much. It never was, but her employees were like family and she wanted to give them the holiday cheer their employer showed.
Which was why she made the choice. How could she have said no?
But, it had put into motion forces she didn't expect. Now, the dominoes in Katie's life were starting to fall and time was running out.
Her act of kindness was devolving into a life of shame. She was supposed to be handing out snacks at soccer games and smiles at the plant. Instead, she was hiding secrets from her kids, lying to her police officer husband, and betraying the ruthless man she called her boss.
Her big heart wasn't going to save her this time. Her small town was becoming a prison of her own making and any chance of escape was shrinking by the second.
Stuck at a crossroad of fear and panic, Katie has to do something.
And quick.
Or her next secret may be her last.
Christmas music played over the building’s intercom as the mix of blood, bleach, and freshly baked oatmeal cookies wafted through the air. Katie Cage slapped the wide hand reaching into her box of holiday goodies.
“Harris, keep your hands to yourself,” she said.
Dale Harris grunted, broke off a portion of a cookie, and tossed it into his mouth.
“Didn’t your mother teach you manners?” Katie asked.
“She couldn’t teach what she didn’t know,” he said, licking his fingers.
“Then learn them from me. You ask before reaching. And you respect my response.”
“If I ask, you’ll say no.”
“I baked these cookies for everyone, not just you.”
He snatched one more.
She twisted, shielding the box from his reach.
“That is enough,” she warned. “Like I have time to bake cookies in the first place.”
“Fine, fine.” He swallowed the last bite. “Now are you ready?”
“I guess.”
She lifted a handkerchief to her mouth, peering through the plexiglass window in front.
“It’s big, I’ll give you that,” she said.
Through the glass, in an expansive room with polished white tile, stood a pristine two-story metal structure.
A grin lifted Harris’ chubby cheeks.
“You look like my kids on Christmas morning,” she said.
“This is better than Christmas. That there is going to make us a fortune.”
“You a fortune.”
“Do you want to see it run?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Harris waved through the window, and a nearly invisible man in white protective gear stepped away from the white walls on the white floor. He returned Harris’ wave, then pressed a green button at the bottom of the metal behemoth.
The ground vibrated as the engine purred. Gears moved, metal clanged, and the complex mechanisms behind the stainless-steel exterior hummed to life.
“Impressive,” Katie said. “Now can we go? Your employees are waiting.”
“Just a second.”
He waved to the white-clad worker one more time, and the employee pressed a second button, a yellow one.
Red lights atop the machine spun.
The metal beast growled.
A conveyor belt chugged forward, originating from a room to the left and passing through an opening hung with clear plastic strips. The gutted cows and pigs vibrated on the conveyor belt as it pulled them toward the two-story mechanism, up an incline like a tongue extending from the machine’s mouth, and into the beast’s metal jaws.
The scent of meat and blood drifted into the air vents at Katie’s feet. She covered her nose with her hanky.
“Is it always this loud?” she asked.
“It’s just getting warmed up.”
She felt the floor shimmer, but Harris looked on without a care, his eyes wide with excitement.
At the bottom of the beast, the conveyor belt split like a forked tongue. One lane carried sections of meat, disentangled from the structure that once held it together, moving it toward the packaging department. The second lane transported the bones and other unwanted bits toward waste disposal. Both disappeared into the adjacent rooms through more pass-throughs shielded with plastic strips.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She eyed the two-story machine.
“I think you’re compensating for something.”
“This can do the work of fifty, except it doesn’t sleep, ask for a raise, bolt to one of my competitors, or take a vacation.”
“If you’re about to tell me that you plan on firing some of my people, we’re going to have words,” she said.
“Your people?”
“Our small town of Tyler is finally making a comeback. You have a chance to lead that charge, help revitalize the local economy, and, if you play your cards right, get a park named after you. You start replacing people with machines, and the city council won’t take kindly to your expansion plans.”
He fidgeted with a gold necklace that had a meat-cleaver charm, the chain wet from his sweaty neck. “We’ll see about that.”
Trying not to grimace, Katie held open her box of cookies. “People are your future, not two-story meat grinders,” she said.
“Meat grinder and deboner,” he clarified.
She shook the box.
Shrugging, he took another cookie.
“Fine,” he said. “But come next year, when we break ground on phase two, don’t expect the human-to-machine ratio to stay the same. Progress is progress.”
“We’ll have that discussion in time. Now, let’s get to the Christmas party before all I have to offer is a box of crumbs.”
They stepped out of the observation area and started down a long hall, its walls covered in wood paneling, its floors with matted dark green carpet. This was the original structure, the foundation of the plant, the floors Katie walked when she first started there.
This old part of the building felt like home.
“Can’t wait to see how you decorated the cafeteria,” he said.
“Close your eyes and think back to last year and you won’t be disappointed.”
“Then I’ll know just where to find you under the mistletoe.”
Her stomach churned.
“Thank you, no. I’m a happily married woman.”
“Oh, I know you’re married. You’ve just never looked too happy about it.”
He chuckled, his bulky frame jiggling with each laugh.
“That’s none of your business,” she said.
She’d spent years deflecting Harris’ unwanted flirtations to the point where she barely recognized them as offensive anymore. It’d become part of her employment, like filing and bookkeeping.
“Speaking of business,” Harris said. “What did the health inspector say?”
“Our drains need snaking again.”
Harris clenched his fists.
“Georgie has been a thorn in our side since I took over this plant, looking for any reason to shut me down.”
“He’s just doing his job,” she said.
“I have a mind to drop him into the deboner and see if he’s actually got a spine in that measly little body of his. I need to teach him a lesson.”
“No, you need to teach the new workers in the Prep Room the rights and wrongs. I’ve been telling you for months that our new workers need better training. They’re letting all sorts of bits get washed into the system.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get to it. In the meantime, put Dennis on snaking the drains. Anything else?”
“Yes.” She eyed her box of cookies, wondering if she’d made enough to broach the next subject. “Just one more thing.”
“Well, make it quick. I can smell the barbecue from here.”
Katie stopped, holding open the box of cookies.
“DeAndrea,” she said.
Harris paused, slouched his shoulders, and turned back to her with familiar ire.
“We’re not talking about this again,” he said. “This is the reason that machine back there makes so much sense to me. They don’t have kids with cancer.”
“She just needs a little more help. Some paid time off.”
“She’s already used up her PTO.”
“That’s why I need you to approve more.”
Harris’ face flushed, and his nostrils flared.
“Before you blow a gasket and ruin our Christmas party, just hear me out. Look, I know you don’t have any kids, but I’ve got two little ones and I don’t know what I’d do if anything like that happened to one of them. DeAndrea can’t treat her son’s illness like it’s the flu. She needs to be with him, Harris. She won’t be able to think of anything else. Don’t put her out of house and home too.” She reached forward to gently grab his thick forearm. “Harris, you have a chance to do something special here. Show your employees you’re more than the signature on their paychecks. That you have a heart in there somewhere.”
“Exceptions become the rule, you know that,” he said. “The rules are the same for everyone or there are no rules.”
“Her boy is seven. He’s not going to make it to eight.”
Harris stared at her as if she’d yet to speak.
“Your business is booming,” she continued. “Hell, a year of her salary is less than what you use in petty cash.”
He stepped forward, his wide finger pointed at her chest.
“Now you wait just a damn minute. That is my money, and what I do with it is my business, not yours. Besides, she’s got family.”
“A father dead three years and a mom in a nursing home.”
“I’m done talking. There are many charities out there to help DeAndrea. Harris Meats ain’t one.”
Katie’s head drooped, and she stared at the ugly green carpet.
“You can be so cold sometimes.”
He motioned to a heavy metal door labeled Cold Storage.
“Comes with the business.”
Harris continued toward the plant cafeteria while Katie remained, her box of cookies in hand, desperate to find just one ounce of humanity in her boss’ hardened heart.
Cold Storage by Pete Bauer is a tale of morally grey actions by ethically grey characters.
Katie Cage is an assistant to the owner of a major meatpacking business in the small, dying town of Tyler. She manages the assorted personnel, the advances of her ruthless boss, Dale Harris, and the accounts. When an employee needs time off with pay to help her child through his last year as he dies from cancer, Harris declines to offer any help. Katie makes a bold choice that sends her on a spiraling fall from grace.
Katie is an intriguing character. She looks out for people, nurtures them, and looks to do good for everyone. Her husband is a town cop who is excellent at his job; he's even excellent at being a reliable husband. Still, something is missing in their marriage, missing from Katie's life. The thrill of laundering money and prescription drugs seems to be a way for Katie to deal with the mundanity of what her life has become.
Time jumps make for a quick but realistic pace. This woman's life doesn't fall apart all at once, though fall apart it does. Instead, Katie's spiral into the worst depths of hell starts on that one Christmas Eve, taking her through months of blackouts and drug use, stints in prison, and clumsy mistakes that threaten to put her back behind bars.
Bauer handles dialogue and character progression with aplomb. Cold Storage is a progression of mistakes amping up to one of the worst mistakes a person can make in their life. Aspects of the story felt like Katie Cage was a less innocent Marion Crane (played by Janet Leigh in the movie, Psycho). Katie was trying to do something good, unlike Marion Crane, who was simply trying to marry the man she loved. But the power gets to Katie, not a psycho running a roadside motel.
Still, Katie Cage had aspects of the innocent Marion in her. Her desire for a better life, one without the monotony of cleaning the kitchen floor and washing the clothes, of having unfulfilling sex with her husband, pleasant as he was, of doing more than scraping by, made Katie think she was invincible. She overindulged and paid the price.
Cold Storage reads quickly but doesn't lack intrigue or character. It's a wonderful, almost lighthearted, thriller worth adding to your TBR.