They stepped out of the elevator onto the first floor, and Todd was right. Men in black suits and tuxes, women in evening wear, and servers scooting about with trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne filled the lobby.
The next three hours were a blur, and she was glad Todd encouraged her to nibble on the food early because there was no time once the speeches were over and Anthony had introduced her as the head of Carmichael Designs, in charge of all the office space in the building. She, Todd, and Barbara were soon inundated with offering tours of the three models as well as handing out cards and pamphlets for their business.
Slipping to the side of the lobby, she leaned against the wall for a moment, lifting first one foot and then the other, wiggling her ankles, wishing she could pull her heels off.
“I’ll bet you wish you were barefoot.”
She jumped at the familiar voice and smiled as she turned to see her father walking closer. “Dad! I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I’ve just been touring the model offices with Albert Partridge. It seems he’s quite proud of his son but no prouder than I am of my daughter.”
She fell into his embrace, loving the feel of her father’s arms around her. “Thank you, Dad. That means so much coming from you.”
He patted her back then leaned away, giving her a stern look. “I know you said you wanted the business to be yours, but I’d still love to have Carmichael Designs work on some of my office buildings.” He threw his hands up in front of him to stop any oncoming protest and added, “I can tell by the people here tonight that you’re going to be busy. But I’d still like to get in line to hire you. Not because you’re my daughter, but because I think you’re the best.”
She laughed, her heart light. “I think we can make that happen.”
Looking out toward the lobby, a few people were leaving, and she glanced at the huge clock on the wall. “I need to start closing down my model offices, Dad. I’m really glad you got to come tonight. Tell Martha that Rory and I’ll have you two over for dinner soon.” With more goodbye hugs, she watched her father move back into the crowd.
She moved to the elevator and nodded toward one of the security men standing guard. “Has everyone left the upper floors?”
“Yes, ma’am. The condo tours are over with, and the last of the office visitors have just come down.”
“Perfect. Then I’m going upstairs to double-check my area before I leave.” He stepped to the side and she entered the elevator, glad when the doors closed and she could lean against the walls. Her mind was whirling with the success of the evening and the number of business contacts she and her employees had made. Carmichael Designs was finally getting off the ground. “A lady always celebrates her gains in a quiet, understated manner.” Ignoring her grandmother’s words, she stepped off the elevator with her hands in the air, twirling in a happy dance.
Catching her reflection in the windows, it struck her how carefree she truly was now. No more ‘fake it till you make it’. She was happy with her life, her career, and her man.
All the office lights were on, just as she expected. With a final glance around, she flipped off the lights as she moved from room to room. Now, standing in a completely darkened space, she looked out one of the windows onto the night sky of Hope City. The Partridge Tower was not nearly the tallest building around, but even on the eighth floor, she could appreciate the skyline.
She walked directly to the glass and stared at the other lighted buildings. From her vantage point, she could see the moon’s reflection on the water in the harbor and the lights from numerous ships near the docks. Peace settled over her and she stood for several long moments, reveling in the emotion.
Finally, she turned, knowing Todd and Barbara would want her to help field the business questions from some of the potential clients. Just as she approached the outer door leading to the lobby, she heard angry voices. Peeking out, she could see Anthony and a man she didn’t recognize.
“You promised!” Anthony growled. “You promised you could handle this job. I would’ve never given it to you if I didn’t think you could provide what was necessary.”
“You wanted it to come in under budget and on time. That’s what I gave you.” The other man snarled, his height equal to Anthony’s with a few added pounds that, from her viewpoint, seemed intimidating.
“I’ve got a designer who’s calling City Hall making waves about the system! Questioning the inspector!” Anthony dragged his fingers through his hair, mussing his perfect salon style.
“I got the inspector to okay everything. I’m telling you, you’re fine. My company followed codes in most of the places, and the inspector agreed. Extra shit that wasn’t needed, we can’t worry about. But your fuckin’ lights come on, and your fuckin’ heating and cooling works. The power systems are more than adequate for all the electricity needs of this building. Anything extra required is for suckers.”
Sandy heard the words the man was saying but struggled to make sense of them. Is he saying he didn’t follow all the necessary codes? Did the inspector sign off when the electricity was not up to code? She held her breath, not wanting to eavesdrop, but considering the men stood between her and the elevator and stairway doors, she had no choice but to remain where she was.
“You’d better be right,” Anthony said, his voice sounding less sure and more like a whine. “Yet the inspector called me wanting to know why Ms. Carmichael was calling his office wanting assurances that his inspection was complete.”
“Well, maybe Ms. Carmichael should keep her nose outta other people’s business.”
“What are you going to do? Wait, no! I don’t want to know!” Anthony cried.
“Christ, Anthony, this isn’t like my grandfather’s day. No one is going to get whacked. She just needs to be warned off, or hell, paid off like everyone else, including that Anderson guy you’ve got overseeing everything.”
She gasped at hearing Dave had been taking payoffs, but the sound was buried under a loud crackle followed by several sharp pops that rang out next to her. She whirled around to see a thin curl of smoke ease past the door of the fuse box that she had looked at earlier.
“What’s going on?” Anthony called out, rushing forward from the hall into the office, his wide-eyed gaze landing first on her before shooting over to the smoking wall.
“What the hell are you doing here?” the other man yelled at the same time, entering the office behind Anthony.
“This!” she shouted, pointing to the still-smoking fuse box. “This is what I was talking about! I don’t know what’s going on, but something’s wrong with it.”
Anthony stood with his eyes wide and his hands lifted in front of him as the other man stomped past her. He reached out and grabbed the lift handle on the fuse box. “Fuck!” He snapped his hand back and shook his fingers.
“That’s what I’ve been complaining about. It’s smoking!” she said, turning her accusing gaze toward Anthony.
The man grabbed the handle again and jerked it open quickly. Sparks shot out before the inside wires flamed. Before either man had a chance to react, the fire alarms began screeching throughout the building.
“Oh, my God! Get out!” Anthony screamed, his arms waving as he ran toward the elevator.
“It won’t work! The elevator shuts off when the fire alarms react!” the other man shouted.
She was right behind Anthony when the three of them reached the office doorway at the same time. Anthony rushed through, but her arm was grabbed by the other man as he jerked her backward to get to the door first. Losing her balance, her ankle twisted, and she fell to the side. Her head hit the corner of the elegant receptionist desk she had admired earlier. Pain shot through her head and neck just before the lights from the hallway lobby went black.
26
When the Fifty-two-C-one call came in, the paramedics jumped into their ambulances, waiting for the fire trucks and fire engines to pull out first. The call went out to multiple stations, and Rory f
ollowed the truck through the intersections as they made their way toward the harbor.
“First Battalion, Jonesville Station, Engine five, Truck three, Medic fourteen. Second Battalion, Barker Station, Engine thirteen, Truck seventeen, Medic four—”
“Residential or commercial?” Rory asked Shania, interrupting the continuous central radio station listings, surprised the call code didn’t delineate.
“Hang on.” Shania listened to a separate radio channel of information coming from dispatch. “It’s both commercial and residential. New, but unoccupied.”
“Thank God—”
“Shit! No, Rory… it’s the Partridge Tower.”
His heart jolted in his chest and he gasped, the air in the cab of the ambulance suddenly thick with fear. Even if he hadn’t just glanced at the intersection street sign, the brake lights on the fire trucks ahead signaled their arrival. “Move on up, move on!” he growled. “Where the hell do they want us?”
The gala had resulted in cars lining the street, making it difficult for the trucks to get through. Several of the fire engines honked their horns but the results were little movement and mostly more noise.
“Get behind truck fourteen,” Shania called out, her hand lifted, pointing out the front window.
Slamming on the brakes, he threw the ambulance into park. They were half a block away from Partridge Tower, but the ladder trucks and engines needed to be close. He leaned forward and looked up, his sense of relief filling him that there was no visible fire or smoke.
“Damn, look at all these people!” Shania said.
The sidewalks were jammed with black-suited men and evening wear-clad women, their loud babbling simply adding to the noise but barely heard over the continued scream of sirens. The police officers were calling out orders as they herded the gala attendees away from the building. “Keep on walking! Move to the end of the block! Do not leave until you have been accounted for!”
Climbing from the ambulance, Rory scanned the masses, desperate to land his gaze on Sandy, but knew it would be impossible to find a petite blonde on the crowded sidewalk in the dark right now. Hustling to the back of the ambulance, he looked toward the end of the block where a police blockade was already gathering attendees, knowing they’d need to take names for cross-reference and check who was missing.
His radio blared with instructions. “Base station at the corner of Market and Broadmore.”
“Engine five at three-forty-two pump.”
“Engine five, hook it up.”
“Smoke alarm—eighth floor. Casualties unknown.”
“Team four—lead—eighth floor. Team two—follow—sixteen down. Team seven—ten down. Team three—seven down.”
“Medic eleven, go in with Team four.”
At that, Rory jerked around toward Shania. He usually didn’t go into a building in full fireman’s uniform, but his captain determined he was needed as the fireman’s paramedic. Leaving her and Bobby to work with the other paramedics and EMTs on the outside, he ran to the fire engine. Reaching inside, he grabbed the pants, pulling them on over his uniform, jerked on the jacket, and pulled the Nomex hood over his head until his face popped out through the opening. Jamming his feet into boots, he picked up his paramedic equipment and hustled after the firefighters in Team four.
“Rory! Rory McBride!”
He turned at the sound of his name being yelled from the side, seeing Sandy’s coworker and her father trying to push past the police officers standing guard outside the lobby doors. “Let them through!”
The officer waved and the two men ran to him, both talking at once.
“I can’t find her,” Ted said, his face contorted with fear. “We were talking in the lobby, but I can’t find her out here.”
“She’s upstairs. I know she’s upstairs!” Todd gushed, waving his hands and gasping. “She went back upstairs to double-check the office. They were making sure everyone was cleared out and she wanted to check on the office and then lock up. She was only gone ten minutes when the alarms went off, and I never saw her come back into the lobby!”
“Christ Almighty. Please find her!” Ted said, his gaze begging as he stared at Rory.
Rory’s heart pounded, sure that everyone could hear it through the thick layers of his uniform. Trying to hold on to his shit, he stared at her father and said, “I’m going up.”
“McBride!”
Turning toward the call of one of the firefighters, he raced toward the lobby doors. Team four tramped through the brightly lit lobby with heavy booted footsteps. The lingering scent of food wafted by, not usually what they smelled when called to a fire. Moving past the white cloth-covered tables with the remnants of catered hors d’oeuvres, the scent disappeared as he pulled on his face mask, starting the oxygen as they entered the stairwell.
The equipment he carried on his back was different from what the firefighters carried since his were medical emergency supplies, but they were equally as heavy. The firefighters unrolled the hoses as they ascended, checking in with the team leader to see how to advance the initial attack line.
“Roll up first two?”
“No, drop through middle.”
The stairwell was clear of smoke, and in a single line, they moved upward, keeping track of the floors they passed by the large numbers painted on the walls. Once they reached the fifth floor, another firefighter began to unroll his hose, connecting it to the hoses that snaked to the lower floors.
More chatter came through the radio from various teams. “Floor two clear.” “Floor three clear.” “Floor eleven clear.”
Desperate to see if Sandy was on the eighth floor, he hustled after the man in front of him as they climbed, and the team leader called off the floor specs as they were being fed to him. “Stairs enter to the side of the lobby facing east. No residences. Three offices to the left. Three to the right. Alarm coming from the first office to the left.”
Not having any idea where Sandy was, it hit Rory that the smoke alarm was coming from an area that she would have designed. And was concerned about the electrical fuse boxes.
Coming to the fire barrier stair door on the eighth floor, they pulled it open slowly. The lobby was visible, a small amount of smoke emanating from the left. As he reached the top and turned, he could see that the smoke was billowing from an open door leading into one of the offices. He stayed behind, allowing the firefighters to approach first, listening intently to their chatter between the captain and team leader.
“Visibility?”
“Almost none. Got the plans? What are we entering?”
“Office reception through door. Hallway and four more doors behind.”
“Panel?”
“Fuse box with sounding alarm on wall to the left of the door.”
More floor teams reported in. “Floor four clear.” “Floor ten clear.”
“We’re still missing three people,” the radio called. “Witnesses say a woman was going to the eighth floor to lock the office. Another man and woman can’t be accounted for.”
“Couple found on floor fourteen. Being escorted down now by Team two.”
“Seems they decided to try out the model condo’s bedroom and got stuck when the alarm went off.”
Rory could hear a mixture of chuckling over the radio but felt nothing but fear with Sandy still missing. Ignoring the radio chatter, he watched as his team leader crossed the doorway and turned toward the left.
“Flame on wall behind panel. Team three, Team six… need hose connection and call.”
The firefighters in the hall immediately dropped their hoses, two running back to the staircase to check the connections with the hoses from lower floors.
“Hose connected.” He stepped to the side as the firefighter closest to the door took the nozzle.
“Call for water,” the team leader radioed, taking hold of the nozzle as well.
The men held steady as the hose filled and the water blasted onto the wall, the sizzle of more smoke sounding out.
“Got a body. Just to the back of the desk straight in front of the door.” The team leader’s call over the radio sent shock waves through Rory, and he rushed past the other firefighters and into the smoke-filled office. Dropping to his knees, he crawled where visibility was better toward the area indicated.
Sandy!
Her eyes were closed, and she lay still, but her chest rose and fell with breaths. Thank you, God! An image of his mother kneeling in nightly prayers hit him, knowing she now included Sandy. Thank you, Mom, as well!
He was able to discern blood on her forehead and pushing her hair back slightly could see a laceration with bruising all around. Lifting his gaze, he spied the desk corner that she must have hit. But what caused her to fall?
Forcing his mind to the task, he called out, “Board.” He had carried the board on his back and felt another pair of hands shift him around as they released the board from its straps. Needing to get her out of the smoke-filled room as quickly as possible but not knowing the extent of her injuries, he battled the urge to scoop her up and run. “Woman found on floor eight. Injured. Eight-D-one. Twenty-one-A-one. Will bring her down on board. Standby transportation.”
Shifting her carefully, he tried to lean over her to protect her from the water raining down over them. Her eyes fluttered open as she moved her head. “Sandy? It’s Rory. We’re going to get you out of here.” Her eyes remained open, but confusion filled them, so he repeated, “Sandy, it’s Rory.”
As he placed the strap over her, she lifted her hand weakly and said, “C… can walk.”
“Nope.” His one-word reply was all it took for her hand to drop. He placed an oxygen mask over her face, and she closed her eyes.
The team leader shifted the hose to keep the water from hitting them directly. Bill came rushing toward him, dropping to his knees. “Sandy!”
“Gotta get her out of here,” Rory ordered, then looked over as Blay hustled toward them as well.
“Go,” Blay said, clapping him on the shoulder before moving into the smoldering office. Bill took the other end of the board, and with Rory at her head, they lifted her easily and moved into the hall where the air was clearer. Stalking directly to the staircase, they began the descent, her slight weight making the trip easier.
Rory: Hope City, Book 7 Page 21