“Davey?”

Beth toyed with the hem of her blazer. Her boss, David Grimthorpe, was fishing around in the trunk of his Benz. Beth repeated to herself over and over, ‘it’s just Davey, under the nice clothes it’s just big sweet Davey.’

The recreation park’s parking lot was a beehive of excited elementary school kids, tired parents, and flustered coaches. The start of the CYO cross country season was always a confused flurry. Anxiously, Beth looked around.

“Coach Darby has the cooler, Ruth. Oh hey Betty Boop,” David said. “What you doing here on starting day. Steffie isn’t running this year, is she?”

“Oh no, she’s a freshman now at Our Lady of Mercy. No I’m here about that job you got me.”

Beth’s voice faltered and she coughed to hide her nerves. David hoisted a duffle bag out of the trunk. He waved to the coach from another school.

“Kinda of in a rush here. Don’t tell me you want a raise already Betty Boop you just started a month ago,” David said with a trunk slam.

“Closer to three months. No, Davey I’m grateful. After Denny left and everything went to hell. You gave me a chance. I want to do good. I’ve studied the regulations for clean rooms and labs. I take being a safety inspector seriously,” Beth said, her voice turning to a plead.

Bag slung over his shoulder, David checked his phone absently. Tossing a beach ball, a pair of seven-yerar-old boys in track uniforms zigzagged around them.

“Timmy! Jared! Quit fooling and head to the tent. Anyway, great to hear everything’s okay, Boop. Let’s catch up over some weekend soon. Bring the girls over and I’ll throw a couple steaks on the grill and Jenny will make her terrible pasta salad. We’ll tell some high school stories and bore our kids to tears.”

The crowd in the parking lot thinned as families headed over to the course. David began to walk away too. Jumping, Beth grabbed his arm.

“No, it’s not okay the compunding facility is filthy. We make drugs for premies and cancer patients. Standing water in the HVAC unit, sterile solutions mishandled. It’s not right, Davey. I’ve made reports and no one listens!” Beth said. “They won’t even stop the production line anymore when the tests show problems. You have to listen!”

In the distant, the shouts and laughter of elementary schoolchildren preparing to run on a fine fall day. Grabbing both of David’s arms, Beth turned him hard to face her. Looking amused, David crossed his arms.

“Look Boop I want to be nice. But aren’t you getting out of your lane? You were a flipping secretary. We have all kinds of tests and stuff. Now you think you know more than the pharmacists. You’re crazy.”

“And you were hauling junk for your daddy’s company. We go back years. We were friends once upon a time. We were more than friends. Listen Davey I’m trying to help you. I’ve tried calling and emails. You’re ignoring me. You can’t know what is going on. Listen the techs are working the production line without the proper training. Cleaning crews are slacking. You gotta know the danger.”

Grabbing him again, she shook him. Beth’s voice died in her throat as she stared up at her old pal’s eyes. David shoved Beth knocking her to the ground. Beth’s head hit the asphalt.

She raised up on one elbow. Blood trickled down her forehead. David kneeled over her. He lifted her chin.

“All I know is how much money I made last year. If you want to keep your job fall in line,” David said. “Fall, Betty Boop.”

Placing a hand on her chest David pushed Beth down on the ground, before walking to join the races.