CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Three Days to Deadline

 

 

At first glance, there didn’t seem to be anything that would have caused Felix’s pipefitter to fall or hurt himself.

“I’m going down,” I tell Frank. Before anyone can argue, I throw a leg over one of the ladders and climb down. Every step feels solid.

Frank’s face is creased with concern. “Anything?”

“No.” When my feet hit the walkaround, I take a moment to scan as far as I can around the pipe running down the center of the well. “Looks good so far.”

The light is a little blocked, but not enough to impede my scrutiny as I step toward the next ladder. I decide to climb it and test it out. Again, solid.

“Still good?” Frank asks when I get to the top.

“So far, so good. Let me take a quick look at the other ladders.”

Using the walkaround, I skirt around the outside of the pipe, scanning the casing as I go. When I get to the next ladder, something shiny catches my eye farther on. Instead of climbing the ladder, I walk past it to investigate.

It’s a wrench. Did it fall out of the crewman’s tool belt? If so, I’m not sure why the pipefitter had his full toolbelt down here for welding. Most only carry what they need for a task, and leave the rest behind.

“Find something?” Frank calls down.

“A wrench. Hold on.”

I walk back to the nearest ladder. As I grab it, something grabs me. It’s whisper soft, but definite. Scanning up and down the ladder, it looks like something’s wedged between the ladder and the casing wall.

“What the fuck?”

“What is it, Jack?”

“Not sure yet. Send down a flashlight.”

While I’m waiting, I tug at what’s wadded behind the ladder. A scream and a growl tell me all I need to know. Abandoning the task, I can’t get to a different ladder fast enough and scramble topside. A bunch of surprised faces greet me.

“Call animal control,” I say with a hollow laugh. “A pissed-off raccoon mama just registered a complaint with her landlord.”

One side of Frank’s mouth kicks up. “I’ll be damned.”

When I’m sure I’m not shaking anymore, I lift my hard hat and run a hand through my sweat-slicked hair. “Yep. Unless I miss my guess, we just found our thief.”

It takes a while, but an exterminator finally comes with cages and coaxes the raccoon and her three babies out of the production well wall. All the chittering and screaming and growling set my nerves on edge, but the guy knows his stuff and carts the little family away to relocate them to a friendlier environment.

When it was safe to go back down, Frank and I try to piece together how it all happened. Somehow she’d sneaked in, taken advantage of an irregularity in the casing, and dug into a rock fracture behind. It was a tight opening, partially hidden by the ladder, but warm and safe and plenty big enough inside for her kits.

“How did she drag all this shit into her hidey-hole without any of us seeing?” Frank marvels, helping me pull bits of tarp and plastic trash bags out of the damaged wall. Shredded bits of Nick’s tool belt appear, too. Along with probably a couple of dozen or more chewed-up gloves.

He shakes his head. “And the tools? What do you think that was about?”

“Shiny, I guess. Or maybe she just wanted the belt. Hell, as bold and smart as she is, maybe she was going to install cable TV.” The Security video comes to mind. That little dickens was slick. A magician, swiping stuff right from under our noses.

We get most of the stuff out of the hole, inspect the damage and outline plans for the cleaning crew to finish up and our guys follow behind to patch the hole. I’m exhausted.

“You got it from here, Frank?”

“Yep. Go on to the hotel.”

“Get ‘er done, buddy. I’d like to have the inspectors in ASAP. I’m ready to pack this project in.”

“Yeah, it’s time to wrap things up and take a vacation.”

My thoughts exactly. I grin my goodbye and climb up the ladder. Doug Battles meets me at the top, back for another day of supervising his construction crews. “You had a wild night.”

“You might say that.”

He peers over the side of the production well. “Mystery solved. Much damage?”

“Minimal. Frank’s got it covered. How’s your welder?”

“Shaken up, but he’s out of the hospital, at home resting.”

“That’s good to hear. Think I’ll do the same.”

Right after I call Jilly. She’s gonna love hearing about the raccoons.

After dragging myself the mile and a half to the parking lot, I’m not sure I can stay upright in Ol’ Blue long enough to get to the hotel. Amazingly, though, once the morning air hits me through the open window of the old pickup, my mind clears, and I’m good. Stress morphs into excitement running up and down my nervous system, leaving me feeling wired and happy to be alive.

The minute I’m at the hotel, I try Jilly’s phone, but it goes to voicemail. I know she’s busy on her own project, but I can’t help myself. I try her number again after breakfast and a third time after a shower. Then I crash in my lonely bed.

When I wake up, my body’s in the exact same position it was when I fell into bed. I don’t think I moved in eight hours. Jilly’s still swirling around in my head, so I try calling her again.

“Jack? Hey.”

Her drawl is like caramel flowing over me. Tension I didn’t realize I had loosens in my neck. “Hey, pretty girl. Busy day?”

“Yeah. But we made a good start.”

“You got time to tell me?”

“We’re just getting things squared away before dinner.”

I adjust the pillows behind me and settle in against the headboard. “Okay, shoot.”

“Do you know fruit harvesting?”

“No.”

“Well, then, I won’t bore you silly with little details.”

“I want to hear anything you want to tell me.”

“Oh, that’s so nice. But I’ll spare you. Today was mostly about picking as much fruit as possible, before the effects of hurricane Wilhelmina hits.”

Living on the North Carolina coast, I’ve lived through many such storms. “You’re far enough away from the coast, aren’t you, that you won’t get a direct blast?”

“Yeah. But we’ve already got more wind than is good for citrus trees. And heavy rain’s predicted, beginning in a couple of days.”

“That’s bad for grapefruit, too?”

“Wind knocks fruit to the ground, bruising it before we can pack it for shipping. Rain will rot the tree roots if we’re not able to control flooding and drainage.”

Shit. “I had no idea.”

“Fortunately, ours isn’t a huge operation. I think we can get the fruit picked in just a few days. It’s going to be a nice harvest. The fruit’s just the right size and ripeness.”

The excitement in her voice chases away all my previous night’s stresses. “Listen to you. You’re blossoming.”

She ghosts a little laugh. “Jack.”

“No, really. You haven’t even snarked at me once.”

“You goof.”

My lips stretch into an easy smile. “You’re happy.”

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s early yet, of course, but the harvest is going well. The pickers seem satisfied with the work. If the weather cooperates, it’ll all be gold.”

“Is this what you want to do for a career?”

“Oh, right now all I’m trying to do is prove to my family that I can make a contribution.”

That strikes a chord. Being the youngest of four brothers, I’d always had a compulsion to prove myself. One day I finally believed that I could do it. Proving it to myself ended up being more important than convincing my family.

But if anybody’d tried to tell me that, I wouldn’t have listened. In fact, witnessing it in her is helping me. I’ve worked so hard for my independence. But independence from what? Nobody in my family has held me back. That’s all on me.

My chest heats as realization fills me up.

I’ve proven my independence. Embraced it. Stand strong in it.

Do I know how to be part of something bigger? Would I even consider it?

Damn.

Where are these thoughts coming from? Is it this girl? Is it my parents’ happy thirty-year marriage?

“I miss you.” The words slipped out before I knew they were even on my tongue.

Her soft gasp didn’t slow my roll. “When we’re both done, you with your harvest and me with the green energy project, go away with me for a few days.”

“Like a vacation?”

“Yeah.” My lungs are in a vise. It hurts to breathe, waiting for her response. I suddenly want her to say yes more than I want my next breath.

“It’s almost Thanksgiving.”

No. No, no, no, no, no. “It’s not even November yet.” If she doesn’t answer me soon, I’m going to need CPR.

“Okay.”

“Yes?” The word practically explodes from me.

“Yes. I’d really like that.”

She wants to spend time with me. Only a few more days to wait. The vise loosens, but a different kind of tension coils, this one in my belly, radiating higher. “Good.”

“I have a proposal of my own.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“How about when your project is done, you come help me with mine?”

That doesn’t sound so bad. I’d like to see where she grew up. Experience what got her so excited. See her in action. “Deal.”

The adrenaline rush through my ears makes it hard for me to hear anything but the staccato of my own heartbeats.

He’s not leaving after his project’s done. He’s going to come here. He’s going to work with me in my grove.

Ha! I’ll be his boss.

My giggles are of the second-grader variety.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, his voice gravelly from just waking up. I go from giggling to shivering in the space of a second.

“Hmm…oh, just thinkin’ about karma.”

“Oh, yeah? How so?”

“Never mind. Tell me about your day. Gonna finish on time?”

“Hell, yeah. We’re almost done now. Frank’s working on as many inspections and sign-offs as he can line up today. I imagine I’ll have some tonight. Then we’ll do the final ones and whatever tweaks might pop up tomorrow. Done.”

Can’t be too soon for me. I’m already yearning to be near him again. “That’s really good news, Jack, congratulations.”

“Thanks, but I’ll take your congrats in person when I join you at your ranch.”

Seems that maybe we’re on the same wavelength about seeing each other again. Our one morning together seems like a distant memory. One I’d like refreshed. Soon.

“We’ll see if that can be arranged.”

His playful growl makes my insides clench. “You’d better. You’re talking to the man who solved the stolen-glove mystery.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“You’ll never guess. It was a family of raccoons.”

“What? You’re lyin’.”

He proceeds to fill me in on all the particulars.

“That’s a great story! It’ll be perfect in my article.”

“How’s that coming?”

“The first draft was done, but I want to go back and work this into it. I’ll publish it after the harvest, when I have more time.”

“Baby, I’m sorry to do this, but—”

“I know. Go. The sooner you get to work, the sooner you’ll finish the job.”

“And the sooner I’ll join you on yours.”