Читать книгу Eagle's Last Stand - Aimee Thurlo - Страница 11
ОглавлениеRick spun Kim around and pushed her toward the basement stairs. “Down! Jump!”
Because the wooden steps were littered with chunks of bricks and debris, Rick and Kim ended up sliding into the basement, flat on their backs. As dust and ash billowed down the steps with them, Rick rolled on top of Kim, his body protecting her from the building materials that bounced down the steps. One brick struck his hard hat like a stone fist.
Within seconds the earthshaking cascade was replaced by a loud rattle, then a dozen or more solid thumps from somewhere above. When it was quiet again, Rick rose and looked down at Kim, who still had her eyes tightly shut. It was a good thing, considering her face was covered with dust.
“Keep your eyes shut and I’ll blow away some of the dust.”
He tried, but they both started coughing. He helped her sit up.
For a moment she kept her head down. Finally she opened her eyes and looked up at him. “We’re alive, I take it?”
Rick smiled. “Pretty much. You okay?”
“I feel like I just went down a rock slide, but all I’ve got are bumps and bruises, I guess,” she said, looking down at herself.
Shaken, she turned to look at the stairs. They were piled high with bricks and rubble, but light was coming in as the dust began to disperse.
“At least we’re not totally trapped,” Rick commented. “But we’re going to need help digging out of here.”
“Can you hear me?” came a man’s voice from up above.
“I hear you, Medina, and we’re both fine. There’s a lot of debris in the way, but once we clear a path we’ll have enough room to crawl out,” Rick called back.
“No! Don’t start moving things around. Something else could come down. Wait until my people have a chance to check the situation up here. Stay away from the stairs, hang tight and we’ll get you out.”
* * *
TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES later Rick and Kim were standing in the alley at the rear of the Brickhouse. The firemen had braced the remaining walls as well as the sagging roof beams, then cleared a path for them.
“Did I ever tell you how much I hate closed-in spaces? I felt like I was smothering down there,” she said, coughing.
“That was poor air quality, not claustrophobia,” he said, clearing his throat. “At least you did all the right things, including the most important of all—keeping your head.”
Arnie Medina came to meet them. “Speaking of keeping your heads, good thing I handed you the hard hats, huh?”
“Yeah, but I still don’t get it. I made sure we stayed in sections that looked stable,” Rick said.
“You had someone working against you. A guy with mirrored sunglasses, dressed in sweatpants and a gray sweatshirt, gave it a push with a two-by-six. He stopped the second I saw him and yelled, but I have no idea how long he was out there.”
“Wait. Sweatpants or jeans?” Rick asked, instantly thinking of Bobby.
“No way,” Kim said, reading Rick’s thoughts.
“You know who it was?” Medina asked.
“Maybe,” Rick answered. “What color hair? Height? Give me anything you’ve got.”
The fire marshal shook his head. “He was wearing a hoodie, and his face was turned away from me when I saw him leaning into the wall. I went to confront him, but he dropped the board and took off like a jackrabbit. Practically knocked a homeless man to the ground, too.”
“The homeless man—six feet tall, red beard and brown hair?” Rick asked.
“Yeah, that fits. He was over by the furniture store’s loading dock for a moment and then he disappeared down the far end of the alley,” Medina said.
“Thanks for everything,” Rick answered.
“You’re through here, I assume?” Medina asked.
“For now,” Rick said, then added, “Would you and your men keep an eye out for a gold crucifix on a chain? The male server who worked here last night—Crawford—was hanging around when we first arrived. He claimed he lost it last night and came back to look around.”
“We can do that.”
Rick hurried with Kim back to his SUV. “I’m going to drive around to see if I can spot Mike.”
“I’ll help you look.”
After twenty minutes of Rick circling downtown and driving down alleys, he glanced over at her, shaking his head. “It’s like he vanished off the face of the earth.”
“Mike’s like that,” she said. “I’ve tried to help him, get him connected with people who’ll give him food and shelter, but he didn’t want any part of it. He sets his own rules and comes and goes as he pleases.”
“There’s something to be said for that, I suppose.”
“There’s one thing I’m sure about. If he knew someone was out to hurt me, Mike would find a way to let me know. He’s not a bad guy. He’s hiding—from the world, from himself, I just don’t know—but there’s a lot of good inside him.”
“And you know this how?” Maybe Kim was still an innocent, a woman determined to see the best in everyone.
“I’m not just another idealistic do-gooder, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said. “One time after I handed him a sack of food, I reached into my purse and my wallet fell out. It was late, I was in a rush and I didn’t discover it missing until I was finally home.”
“Did you have cash in it?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah. My salary, my tips and my one credit card. I canceled the card, but my driver’s license was also gone. Replacing it and buying groceries for the week was going to be difficult without any cash.”
“Couldn’t you have asked your uncle for help?” he asked. “Or at least for an advance on your salary?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have done that until I’d exhausted every other option.”
He bit back a grin. He was the same way.
“The next afternoon when I went back to the Brickhouse to start my shift, Mike met me by the back door and handed me my wallet. He’d kept it safe for me. I tried to give him some money as a reward, but he wouldn’t take it. He just asked that I bring him a sopaipilla with green chili for dinner—but only if I wouldn’t get into trouble. That’s the only time he ever spoke to me in full sentences.”
Rick smiled, glad to see she’d made a logical decision, not one based on pity, an emotion that often conspired against a man, destroying him from the inside out.
To this day, he still remembered the pity he’d seen in almost everyone’s eyes after his mother had abandoned him at six years old at the trading post. Those looks had completely sapped his confidence, continually reminding him that no matter how sorry they felt, few would ever open their doors to him. They had their own lives, and he wasn’t included.
Last year, after surviving the knife fight, he’d wondered if the scar on his face would arouse a similar reaction. He’d made it a point to carry himself ramrod-straight, determined not to give anyone an occasion to feel sorry for him.
As it turned out, the agents he’d been working with had looked at the scar as a badge of honor and respected it. Outside the Bureau he’d held his head high, went about his business without hesitation, and in the end his efforts paid off. He’d seen fear in some and shock in others, but pity had been absent.
“I know we were supposed to go to Turquoise Dreams, but do you mind if we stop by my place first? I live in a duplex that’s on the way and I’d like to drop off my books and notes. I also want to make sure that the mail carrier picked up a job application I left in the PO box.”
“What kind of job are you applying for?” he asked as he followed directions to her home.
“One that’s connected to law enforcement,” she said, crossing her fingers. “There’s a security company in town that hires and trains, and it would give me the kind of experience that could come in handy when I apply for the police academy.”
He glanced at her quickly. “Exactly what position are you applying for?”
“The only part-time they’ve got at Complete Security right now—monitoring cameras at night. There’s more to it, but they’re very tight-lipped and don’t give out job details until after they do a background check.”
“How’s the pay?” he asked, knowing they were talking about his brother Daniel’s firm. Level One Security was the parent company of Complete Security, a new venture for his brother. CS was an electronic service Daniel had started up for small businesses in the area.
“The pay’s just average, but they could really teach me a lot—if I get the job.” She pointed. “Here we are, up ahead on the right, 1916 Pine Street.”
Seeing the For Rent sign, he tensed. “The other side of the duplex is empty?” he asked, not liking the tactical complications that presented.
“Not for long. The rent’s reasonable and the owner advertises on campus.”
He quickly parked. As he got out of the SUV, the hairs at the back of his neck prickled. Something was wrong, he could feel it.
Rick looked around, but everything appeared peaceful.
