Seek and Find Page 9

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Madison Coles. I called earlier, remember?”

  “The reporter?” He licked his lips.

  “Yes. I’m writing an article for the Gazette. You said you’d answer a few questions for me.”

  Sweat trickled down his cheeks. She noticed circles of moisture under the armpits of his denim shirt. Odd. It was warm outside, but the air-conditioned trailer kept the temperature cool, almost chilly.

  “Uh, well, I can’t talk to you after all. I changed my mind. Too busy. Got a big order to fill today. Sorry you didn’t get the message I left with your office this morning.”

  She had neglected to check her work voice mail. “But Mr. Jennings, I promise it will take only a few minutes.”

  “No, no,” he said, putting a hand under her elbow and turning her toward the door. “Really sorry to waste your time.”

  Madison heard the sound of a motor. Through the window she saw a forklift, heavily loaded with wooden beams, making its arduous way along.

  “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to talk to me.”

  He shrugged and wiped at his forehead. “Nothing personal.”

  His voice quivered just slightly, and he increased the pressure on her elbow.

  She planted her feet and held her ground. “Mr. Jennings, did someone tell you not to talk to me?”

  “Tell me? No, of course not. Who would give me orders like that?”

  “The person who’s shaking you down for money.” She watched his pupils contract in fear.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Her wild toss had hit the mark. “I think I do. That’s what you were on the phone about when I came in, wasn’t it? Someone is extorting money from you, and you told them you wouldn’t pay.”

  “No, not at all. You were eavesdropping, and you completely misunderstood.”

  She looked him straight in the eye. “I can see that you’re terrified, Mr. Jennings. Tell me what’s going on and I can help.” She looked him straight in the eye. “I know what it’s like to be afraid. The only way out is to expose the truth.”

  But at what cost? her heart whispered. There was always a price to be paid.

  “Please,” he said after a moment, his voice low and tense. “I can’t talk to you here. It’s too risky.”

  “We can meet somewhere else,” she said eagerly. “I won’t use your name. Just tell me the truth.”

  The roar of the forklift grew louder. They both looked outside in time to see it hurtling out of control with its heavy load.

  “Get down,” Jennings shouted, just before the machine struck with an explosive roar, emptying its massive cargo onto the roof of the trailer.

  Nine

  James inquired of the one and only taxi driver in Desert Valley and discovered where Madison was heading. As he sped along, he stewed. She couldn’t possibly wait another fifteen minutes? Would that have killed her?

  He had to admit that if the situation was reversed, he would probably have done the same. No cop wanted a reporter hanging around the station, and she no doubt felt their unwelcoming vibe. Well, what did she expect? Every Desert Valley cop probably had a story about being misquoted or taken to task for letting something slip to an overeager journalist.

  Pushing the gas pedal a little too hard, he soon pulled into the parking lot at Jennings Construction. He was opening the back door for Hawk when he heard a dull roar and the ground shook under his feet. Hawk looked at him inquisitively. “I don’t know, buddy. Earthquake?”

  Then he heard the shouting. Fear detonated inside his gut, propelling him into a dead run, Hawk galloping right behind. As he cleared a tower of sheetrock and rounded a set of metal shelves, his lungs froze up. Jennings’s trailer was partially crushed under a massive pile of beams. Half of the metal structure was smashed flat, an overturned forklift lying where it had toppled after it lost its load.

  Several men were circling the pile, shouting into their walkie-talkies, attempting to move debris aside.

  James called it in immediately, trying to keep from yelling at the dispatcher.

  “What happened?” he shouted to the men.

  A worker looked up at him, face blank with shock. “Dunno. This forklift just dumped a whole load right onto the top of the office trailer. Someone said they saw the operator take off running. Couple of our guys ran after him.”

  “Who’s inside?”

  “Albert Jennings,” he said. “And...”

  “And?”

  “And maybe a girl. A woman. She went inside to talk to him. She might have got out. I dunno. I wasn’t watching the whole time.”

  James scanned the pile of beams, which was still settling, clouds of sawdust lingering in the air. If the two had been in the far end of the trailer, they were dead for sure. He swallowed hard. What if he never saw those intelligent brown eyes glaring at him again? That sassy, determined woman who didn’t allow anything to defeat her could not be gone in an instant.

  But she could, his brain told him. He’d seen countless cases in which lives were ended just that quickly, without a moment to say “goodbye” or even “I’m sorry.” The father who was stricken by a heart attack on the way to his son’s high school basketball game. The mother killed in a wreck as she drove to the babysitter’s to pick up her two-year-old. Gone. Just like that.

  Work the problem, he told himself.

  Help was on its way. Already several workers were firing off ideas, attempting to clear the door or at least a window on the intact portion of the trailer. It was like trying to play a deadly game of pickup sticks as the wood shimmied and slid every few seconds.

  “Can’t use a machine. Pile’s unsteady,” the foreman shouted. “It could shift at any minute. No one goes up there,” he said to his workers, gesturing away from the wreck. “Get back.”

  The trailer was pinched down on one end like a crushed soda can. James knew their only hope was that Madison and Jennings were in the surviving section, but heavy beams were now tumbled across, blocking their access.

  He moved as close as he could get, peering at the jigsaw puzzle of wood, trying to determine which beam to move.

  “Stay clear,” the foreman snapped.

  James ignored him. “Madison?” he yelled.

  There was no answer.

  “Madison Coles? Albert Jennings?” he shouted. “Can you hear me?”

  Had he heard a reply? He strained to listen. He wasn’t sure, but Hawk was. The dog barked and leaped around in a clumsy dance that indicated he knew something his master was too thick to sense. Hope warmed James’s belly. Was there a chance they were still alive?

  Another beam let loose from the pile and slid toward them, sending men jumping out of the way. James grabbed Hawk’s collar and pulled him to safety.

  In his haste, he’d forgotten to bring Hawk’s leash. Rookie mistake. The best he could do was direct a burly guy in a hard hat to hold his collar and give Hawk a firm stay command. He asked one of the other workers to go back to his squad car and bring the leash.

  Metal groaned and snapped as the intact portion of the trailer roof began to buckle. They had minutes, maybe less.

  “We can’t wait for help,” James said. “We’ve got to clear an escape.” He gingerly climbed onto the teetering pile, using his hands and knees to crawl along. Someone threw him a hard hat and he put it on, not that it would do much good if the situation went south.

  “I’m ordering my guys to stay off,” the foreman called. “They’ve got families to feed, children to go home to.”

  James nodded. He could not expect any of the men to put their lives on the line to assist. He was going to have to do his best on his own.

  The foreman ordered his crew to take positions around the p
erimeter and keep watch. One ran for the first-aid kit and the portable defibrillator. James had just gripped the end of a beam when the foreman moved in at the bottom of the shifting mass to help. James caught his eye, and they came to a silent understanding. They’d do it together. The foreman would not risk the lives of his workers, but he would offer up his own. For James, it was his job, even though he’d attempt it whether or not he wore a badge. Heroism was expected for cops. For this guy, it was purely a matter of a good man doing the right thing. Not all heroes wear uniforms, he thought to himself.

  James gave him a grateful nod.

  With James at the top and the foreman working down below, they maneuvered the first beam between them. It took all of their combined strength to move it far enough until the other men took over and pulled it clear. Sweat poured down James’s face. The sun beat mercilessly, seeming to add weight and increase the amount of muscle needed. When James eased across the trailer roof to grab hold of another beam, his boot punched through the ceiling. Metal cut into his ankle and he lost his balance, going down on one knee.

  The foreman’s eyes widened in fear as the movement caused the beams to shift.

  “Look out,” he yelled.

  James ripped his foot free, ignoring the sting of pain, and tumbled to one side as a beam rocketed down past him and slid to the ground with a thundering crash. The foreman leaped out of the way so fast his hard hat went flying. His workers scrambled to help him. Hawk bayed at the commotion. There was a collective gasp from the gathered men as the pile settled once again into a tentative stability. Several seconds passed by while James concentrated on getting his lungs to work properly.

  The foreman blew out a breath as his men helped him to his feet, and he accepted his hard hat. Then he wiped his forehead and settled his hat firmly on his brow as he fixed James with a look. “Let’s not do that again, okay?”

  James swallowed hard and nodded, pulse pounding in his throat like a jackhammer. One more of the massive beams to clear and they’d be able to reach the window. He could see red lights in the distance as other officers began to respond along with the volunteer fire department. The trailer roof continued to groan under the massive weight. The tiniest misstep could break loose a flood that would crush the trailer as well as James and the foreman.

  Fingers slick with sweat, he gripped the end of the beam and heaved it loose, heart pounding as he listened for any sound of the precarious pile moving. The foreman slowly lifted from his end. Perspiration rolled down both their faces as they wrestled. Inch by inch, they worked it free. All the while, James hoped that his actions wouldn’t cause the rest of the trailer to collapse.

  Just let us get in there, he prayed.

  When the men pulled the beam free, there was a cleared space, no bigger than three feet by three feet, in front of the broken trailer window. He climbed down as carefully as he could and in a moment, he’d yanked out the shattered pane of glass. His throat felt thick with worry at what he might find inside.

  Madison, he wanted to call, but his mouth had gone completely dry. Instead he shoved his torso across the window frame and dropped down inside. His weight made the trailer floor vibrate, and he could hear the pile shifting above him, the walls creaking, debris sliding down from a hole somewhere up above and dusting his face. It was dark inside. The accident must have knocked out the lighting. He made out a desk, an upended file cabinet fallen crookedly next to it.

  “Madison?” he called. “Jennings? Where are you?”

  “Help me,” a voice croaked.

  * * *

  Madison would never take an old file cabinet for granted again. This one had saved her life. It had fallen at an angle against the desk, taking the weight of the massive beam that had cut through the metal roof. A God-given reprieve.

  “Help me,” she said again to the figure backlit by the sun. Dust stung her eyes, grit caking her mouth. She did not realize it was James who had made entry until his face appeared in the gap under the desk.

  “Madison?” He wore an expression of unadulterated surprise and relief. “Thank you, God,” he said.

  “I was sitting here saying the same thing,” she replied, crawling out from under the desk. Her stomach was flip-flopping madly at the sight of him.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She managed a shake of her head before he clutched her to him for just a moment and held her tightly against his wide chest, feeling the mad thundering of his heart.

  Palms flat against his shirt front, she pressed them there, trying to make herself believe that she was alive and he was really holding her. She wanted to stay, breathing in the scent of sweat and sawdust, feeling his relief joining with hers. She exhaled, long and slow, and he tucked her head under his chin.

  “You’re really okay, then?” he repeated. “Jennings?”

  Slowly she pulled away. “I’m okay, but he isn’t talking. I think he’s unconscious. We dove under the desk when the forklift hit, and I didn’t see what happened to him.” She quickly explained what she heard beforehand.

  James nodded. “Let’s get you both out of here.”

  She scooted back under the desk and helped James pull Jennings out by his ankles. When he was clear, James checked for breathing.

  “He’s alive. I don’t see any bleeding. He might have had a heart attack.”

  “He had a right to,” she breathed. “It was like a mountain fell on us without any warning.”

  They moved him clear. A window on the far side of the trailer exploded, raining bits of glass down on them. James covered them as best he could with his torso. She watched in terror from under his shoulder as the wall sagged, crumpling another foot.

  “It’s going to pancake,” she breathed.

  He didn’t answer, rolling off her and shoving her toward the window. “Crawl out, quick as you can.”

  “No, Mr. Jennings first.”

  He glared at her, eyes sparking. “Madison, get out right now. I’ll pull Mr. Jennings clear as soon as you’re through.”

  She didn’t answer that time, just grabbed Mr. Jennings under the arms and heaved him toward the opening. She wasn’t strong enough, but now James was next to her, lifting the man easily, muttering something about common sense and women who would rather die than follow orders. Officer Bucks’s face appeared at the window with Shane Weston.

  “Hand him up and get out of there,” Bucks yelled. “Trailer can’t take the weight much longer.”

  Bucks and Weston hauled the unconscious man out and away. James knelt on the floor. “Here,” he said to Madison. “Step on my knee and climb out.”

  She followed orders this time. With a foot braced against his strong thigh, she climbed to the threshold. Her fingers gripped the metal, and she felt the pressure of the walls that were on the verge of buckling. All around her came the screeches and howls of metal giving way. “Hurry, James.”

  Weston and Bucks appeared at the window again. She looked back.

  “James?” she yelled.

  “Right behind you,” he called.

  “Come on, Ms. Coles.” Bucks gripped her wrist. Shane took one of her forearms, and with a smooth motion, they pulled her free. She was whisked away from the trailer, and she sucked in deep breaths of air. The waiting workers cheered and clapped. Hawk bayed, his ears wobbling with the effort.

  Madison’s mind spun. I can’t believe I lived through that.

  The ground began to rumble under her feet. She managed to turn, looking for James. He was nowhere to be seen. With a monstrous roar, the trailer collapsed completely.

  She screamed. A cloud of dust engulfed them. The roar almost deafened her before it gradually settled, the beams coming to rest on top of the flattened trailer.

  “James got out,” she found herself saying. “He got out, didn’t he?”

  Weston and
Bucks stood as if they had been frozen, staring at the place where, a moment before, there had been a window. Now it was a compact metal ruin. The dust billowed in a massive wave and then softly ebbed away.

  “James?” Madison whispered.

  But there was no movement, no reply, only the settling of the debris and one plaintive yowl from Hawk.

  Ten

  Madison didn’t realize her legs had given out until she found herself on the ground. Hawk bumped against her in his desire to get to his master, panting and snorting. A workman did his best to hold back the straining dog. “No, boy,” he said in a voice that made her want to cry. “Just stay here, fella.” Hawk whined, his sides heaving with concern.

  She wanted to reach out and comfort him, tell him that James would be back momentarily, but she could not make herself utter the lie to the animal who loved his master so completely, so unconditionally.

  Weston and Bucks ran to the trailer, along with the foreman and all the workers. They’d begun to paw through the rubble, moving beams aside, yelling and then listening for any kind of a response. There was no longer any attempt at caution. Cops joined in as they arrived on scene, heedless of their own safety now as they burrowed to find James.

  The minutes ticked on. He could not have survived, her mind told her. There was no way. The trailer was completely crushed, and he had not followed her out. Her eyes stung with tears. He’d insisted she escape first though he knew the trailer was collapsing. A man she’d told herself she didn’t trust, didn’t want to know. Yet now her heart throbbed so badly she was sure it would stop beating.

  More squad cars arrived and the police chattered on their radios, directing two ambulances and a fire truck down to the accident site. They all shared the same stricken look as Bucks and Weston, their mouths drawn into grim lines, voices clipped and businesslike. A cop who introduced herself as Whitney Godwin crouched down and pressed a hand to Madison’s shoulder.

  Her voice was gentle. “Can I take you to the hospital?”