We find Muriel in her apartment. I ask her to come with us to the town hall. At first, she seems to think she’s violated curfew somehow, but I assure her that’s not the case. With the town locked down, I have time to follow up on some outstanding minor issues. Of course, that doesn’t exactly put her at ease, but I reassure her it’s nothing, really. We just want her to cometo the town hall so we aren’t violating curfew ourselves with a late conversation in the residence building.
As we walk, Anders puts her at ease. He saw her at the last movie night, so he asks how she liked it, what sort of films she’d want to see more of, all those little touches that make residents feel seen and heard. She’s obviously flattered that he even noticed she’d been there.
Muriel is in her early forties. Pleasantly pretty, with a round face and wide-set green eyes. She’s blessed with the opposite of resting bitch face—an expression that always seems open and content. I don’t know what she did for a living down south. If it’s not pertinent, we don’t always get that information, especially if it could be connected to thereasona resident is here.
We could get everyone’s story. After all, we’re in charge. But this is how we’ve chosen to run Haven’s Rock—with a permeable wall between us and our resident’s secrets. If we need to know more, we can ask Émilie. The only thing I do know about Muriel is that she was an ardent hobby gardener who’d jumped at the chance to work in the greenhouse.
“Is everything okay?” she asks as she takes a seat in the town hall.
I wait for Anders to sit behind the desk, where he’s nearby but not making Muriel uncomfortable.
“It’s a work issue,” I say. “We had a complaint.”
“What?”
“A minor one,” I say. “It came in earlier, and we didn’t see any need to pursue it immediately, but since we’re locked down…” I shrug. “We’re clearing our desks.”
“What was the complaint?”
“There have been a few instances where the greenhouse was unstaffed early in the morning, and we weren’t aware of any request for a change in scheduled hours. It seems to havebeen sporadic, but a couple of people reported it, so we’re following up.”
“Oh.”
I wait for more, but that’s all I get.
“Have you been late for your shifts at all recently?” I ask.
“I made up the work,” she says. “I wasn’t sleeping in. I started work super early and then took a break. No one ever needs to visit the greenhouse before nine. The kitchen staff takes what they need for breakfast the day before, and then come at nine for lunch and dinner supplies. I’m always back well before then.”
“You said you made up the work? You were getting everything done in the time you had?”
She frowns. “Yes. Why? Did someone say I wasn’t?”
“No, I’m just confirming.”
“I made sure I completed my tasks, and I put in the correct number of hours. It was just the times that changed. Is that a problem?”
“Getting your tasks done is the important thing, but you should check with Phil about any changes to your schedule. Otherwise, if people realize you aren’t at your post, they presume you’re cutting your shifts.”
“I wasn’t. I swear it. Ask Arturo. Everything was getting done.”
I glance at Anders. She seems adamant, and I suspect Arturo had been exaggerating. Complaining about your coworker being late sounds like whining unless you can also say they were slacking.
When I’d pressed Arturo for details, he’d only said that some plants weren’t watered and “other things” weren’t done. Of course, he’d also said that Muriel used to go above and beyond, which would have meant less work for him. If she stopped doing extra, he’d have another reason to be annoyed.
“So you were arriving at what time?” I say. “If your shift starts at six, that’s already early.”
A slight smile. “When it comes to sleep, I’m an old lady. In bed by nine and up before five, which is one reason I offered to take the early shift. I’m awake anyway. Sometimes I go in at four thirty.”
“That’s… very early. And very dark.”
She flushes and squirms in her seat. “I don’t mind.”
When I sit there, as if waiting for more, she says nothing.
I make a few notes. Then I say, “So you go in at four thirty, work for a while, and then leave? At what time?”
“Dawn.”
