I do not own Moonlight, any of its characters or dialogue.
Rated PG
Thanks Pgal for checking it over!
They Know*
Peter Johnson clicked back and forth between spreadsheets and let out a frustrated sigh. Discrepancies in the numbers were showing up again. When he noticed it happening six months ago, he showed it to his boss, the director of the Red Cross blood banks and donation centers in Chicago. But Mr. Rawlings brushed it off, saying it was probably just a clerical error and that he would check into it. Peter didn’t think a simple “clerical error” would occur so often, but let it go. And sure enough, soon after the numbers all came out even. So he assumed Mr. Rawlings had been correct and the problem had been fixed. But now it was back.
He didn’t think going back to Mr. Rawlings would be a good idea. But the accountant in him didn’t want to just let it drop either. He began to wonder if this was a problem unique to the Chicago office. Maybe he could ask around and see if anything like this had ever happened anywhere else.
Pulling open a desk drawer, he searched around and pulled out a business card. He remembered meeting a counterpart from another office at a conference a few months back. He checked the address: Los Angeles. Looking at the clock he did a quick calculation of the time difference. It’d be okay; he dialed the number.
“Roger Bartley.”
“Roger, this is Peter Johnson at the Chicago office. We met at the recent conference…”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. Pete. I remember you. Did all that snow finally melt out your way?”
“Um, yeah Roger. It’s been gone for quite a while now.”
“Good, good. Never have to worry about that here in L.A. So, what can I do for you?”
“I’ve come across a discrepancy in my numbers and wanted to bounce it around with you, since you’re in a different office.”
“Talk to me.”
“Well, in looking at the amount of monthly blood donations I’ve found a large number of them are unaccounted for.”
“What do you mean, exactly?”
“Well, I have the exact number of pints collected from each blood drive, each month. And they all have barcoded tracking numbers, so we know which hospitals they end up at.”
“Right; it works the same way here.”
“And if they expire before they can be used, that information is also recorded and they’re disposed of as hazardous waste.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“They don’t add up.”
“What do you mean, they don’t add up?”
“They don’t add up! A large amount of bags are unaccounted for every month. Every. Month. I mean, bags come in; bags go out or get destroyed. It should all come out even. But it doesn’t. It’s like they get lost along the way.”
“I see. That is a problem.”
“I know! You don’t think there are bags of blood just lying around somewhere, do you? That couldn’t be good!”
“Have you ever heard any reports of someone finding lost coolers of blood bags?”
“No. Never.”
“Well then, it must not be happening or surely someone would notice.”
“I guess so. Has this ever happened in your LA office?”
“No, no… can’t say as it has. Always seems to come out just as it should. So, um, Pete… have you ever mentioned this ‘discrepancy’ to anyone else?”
“When it happened the first time I told - ”
“Wait – this has happened before?”
“Yeah, I first noticed this about six months ago. I told my boss, Mr. Rawlings - ”
“Bob Rawlings?”
“Yeah, do you know him?”
“Yes, we’ve met. Go on. What did he say when you told him?”
“When I brought this to his attention the first time, he said not to worry about it, that it was probably a clerical error and that he would look into it. He must have, because the problem went away. Until now.”
“And what did he say this time, when you mentioned it again?”
“I haven’t told him about it yet. I called you first because I was curious if this was just a Chicago problem or not.”
“Well, Pete old boy, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Looks like it’s limited to the Chicago office and it’s probably just another glitch in the tracking system. I’m sure it will work itself out.”
“So you don’t think I need to do anything else? Tell anyone else?”
“Nah, nah. I wouldn’t bother. Go home to your wife and kids.”
“I don’t have a wife and kids; I’m not married.”
“Lucky you, ha-ha. Well, listen I need to get going. Good talking to you. Give me a call anytime.”
“Thanks for the advice, Roger. Bye.”
“No problem. Bye.”
An hour later Peter Johnson left his office, headed for home. On the freeway a semi-truck cut in front of him causing Pete to slam on his brakes. His brakes failed and he ran into the rear of the truck, his car bursting into flames.
Bob Rawlings drove into his garage and walked in his back door. He was startled to discover two women waiting for him, dressed head to toe in black. “What are you doing here? I didn’t call for any Cleaners. I have no need for a clean-up.”
One of the women stepped forward. “Actually, Mr. Rawlings, you do.”
The End.
*The inspiration for this story came from the conversation between Mick and Beth when she first learned about vampires.
Mick: Actually I get most of my blood from the blood bank.
Beth: Oh. The Red Cross does not mention that in their literature.
Mick: I don't think they know.
Peter just should've kept his suspicions to himself. Now he's gone and ruined two lives with his curiosity! 
Great story, and a wonderful response to the Challenge! 
We do indeed! 
