Hard Hat Man

by Curry, Edna

“Yes, oh, yes,” she said, matching him stroke for stroke and kiss for kiss.

  She wrapped her legs around him and squeezed him, urging him deeper. “I could do this all night.”

  “Sorry, but I can’t hold out that long,” he said, and came with a loud groan of pleasure.

  She hugged him tightly as they floated back down to earth. “Then we’ll just have to start all over again.”

  He laughed and rolled to one side, pulling her with him and refusing to separate. “Give me a few minutes to catch my breath first, woman.”

  “Okay.” She snuggled up to him, nibbled his neck and pulled up the sheet. “But not for long.”

  ***

  Kyle woke and eyed Jan with a satisfied smile. She slept on her side facing him, snoring lightly. Of course, he’d never tell her she snored. She wouldn’t be pleased. But he found it endearing.

  Careful not to wake her after their exhausting night of pleasure, he slipped out of bed and showered, shaved and dressed.

  After breakfasting on coffee and cereal, he headed out to where his men were already assembling heavy machinery. Taking down the old cement stave silo was today’s project.

  The hours passed with good progress. He sent one of the men into town for sandwiches and coffee for their noon lunch. Most of the silo was now down, the heavy slabs of cement loaded on a truck and hauled away.

  A couple of hours later, they were down to removing the cement foundation. Because he planned a swimming pool for this area, it all had to be dug out and removed. A couple of his men used noisy jack-hammers to break the huge cement slab into manageable pieces, then the crane picked them up and loaded them onto the truck.

  Suddenly, one of the men down in the pit yelled and waved at the man working the crane to stop. The others turned to see what was up.

  Then as his men just stood there, staring, Kyle strode over to the pit. Fear knotted his stomach. Had one of his men been injured? After all the things that had gone wrong already on this project, he sure didn’t need any more trouble.

  “What is it?” he yelled over the noise of the engines as he got closer. A couple of his men backed away from the pit and turned to look at him. The man operating the crane shut off the motor, so suddenly all was quiet.

  “Somebody was under the silo,” one finally said. The men stepped back to allow Kyle to approach the pit.

  Kyle reached the edge of the site and saw scraps of cloth hanging from the edge of the crane. Looking down into the hole, he saw more cloth and a skull and bones. Exchanging disbelieving glances with his men, he backed away. “Everybody stay away from the site,” he ordered, pulling out his cell phone and punching 9-1-1.

  When Sheriff Casey answered, he said, “Sheriff, this is Kyle Hart, at Hart Construction. We were removing the silo on Horace’s farm and found a body under the cement foundation….

  “Yes, a body. Well, just bones and some bits of clothing, so it must have been here since the silo was built….

  “Yeah, you know the place, you were just out here when the barn burned the other night. Okay. I’ll secure the site ‘til your guys get here.”

  He hung up and looked back at his watching men. “Nobody touch anything. The sheriff will be out in a little bit. We’ll have to answer his questions, then we’ll go work on the apartments until he says we can finish up here.”

  “Is this gonna set us back again, boss?” one of the men asked.

  “Not if I can help it,” Kyle said. “But we may have to rearrange our work a bit.”

  ***

  Jan awoke alone in her bed and stretched, listening for any sounds, but hearing none. Kyle must have already left.

  They’d made love several more times before finally falling asleep cuddled together. What would it be like to share a bed with him every night? To be able to run her hands over those hard, bare muscles whenever she wanted?

  She swallowed and pushed back the covers. What was she thinking? Her life was back in Chicago. Dreaming would get her nowhere.

  After showering and dressing, she went to the kitchen to find coffee already made and a cereal bowl and spoon in the sink. At least he’d found some food before disappearing.

  She glanced out the kitchen window. A large crane stood beside the silo and half of the cement staves were already on the ground. A tractor with a bucket loader on the front was putting the staves into a truck.

  Kyle had showed her his plans and she knew the swimming pool would be built where the silo now stood. He was making good progress toward achieving his goal. Farther down the yard, men were staking out the plots for the apartments and condos that he planned.

  Suddenly Jan wished she would be here to see it all happen, to see his project go from plans on paper to buildings, a pool, sidewalks and landscaping with flowers and trees. Her hard hat man had an exciting job.

  Her hard hat man? Hey, one night of lovemaking didn’t give her claim to him. Best she remember that.

  With a sigh, she poured coffee, made some toast and ate it. Carrying a second cup of coffee, she went back to sorting books in the library.

  After lunch, she heard sirens. What was going on? An ambulance and police cars had pulled up beside the machinery that had been taking down the silo earlier. Had someone been injured? Oh, God, not more trouble.

  Her throat tight with anxiety, she ran outside and down the yard to see what had happened.

  With a sigh of relief, she recognized Kyle standing beside the police car, talking. Kyle was safe, at least.

  “What happened?” she asked, coming up beside them.

  Kyle turned. “Jan. Stay in the house. You don’t want to see this.”

  “See what?” she demanded, refusing to budge from beside them.

  “Uh, Kyle, we may need her help,” the sheriff said.

  “But…”

  “Kyle, what happened?” Jan insisted.

  “We were removing the cement foundation to the silo and found a body under it,” Kyle said, running a hand through his hair and sending a frustrated look at the officer. Another officer was stringing yellow crime scene tape around the hole where the silo had been.

  “A body!” Jan said.

  “Well, what’s left of it anyway. It must have been there since the silo was built many years ago, since it was under the cement foundation. Mostly bones, some clothes and her shoes,” the sheriff said. “As one of Horace’s family members, do you have any idea whose body it might be?”

  “Her shoes? It’s a woman?” Jan asked, her voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. Bile rose in her throat. Images from her dreams jumped into her mind. A hot breeze blew her hair across her face and she impatiently shoved it back. Another police car pulled up beside them and several more officers piled out of it and ran toward the pit where the silo had stood.

  “Jan, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Kyle said again, putting a restraining hand on her arm.

  She shook off his hand, concentrating on the sheriff. “Let me see the clothes.”

  “They’re over here,” he said leading her to a plastic container. “We’ve finished all the pictures, so will be taking these to the lab for analysis. Don’t know what we can find at this late date, but we’ll try.”

  Jan’s stomach turned over, but she took a deep breath and fought back the nausea as she went with the sheriff. Mostly disintegrated blue jeans with a leather tag saying ‘wrangler,’ and part of a red blouse with heart shaped buttons. A hank of brown hair. A pair of leather loafers with pennies in the front slot, the soles separating and rotting. But enough was left of the clothes for Jan to know. Nancy had loved that blouse with the pretty buttons. And she’d never gone anywhere without her retro 50s style penny loafers.

  Her dream had been right. She gasped and said it aloud. “Oh, my God. It’s Nancy. She didn’t run away. She’s dead.”

  Jan turned away and took a few steps into the grass beside the graveled road, then vomited over and over.

  Kyle came up behind her and held her shoulders, then handed he
r a clean handkerchief. “I’m sorry. I was afraid that’s what you would say.” He cast a disgusted look at the sheriff. “You got enough for now?”

  “Yeah,” the sheriff said. “But I’ll need to ask more questions, later.”

  “We’ll be at the house,” Kyle said. He looked at one of his men. “We’ll work at the other end of the property for now, until the sheriff and his crew are done here.”

  “Sure, boss.” The man got into the nearest truck and drove away. Another climbed onto the tractor and followed him.

  Kyle led Jan back to the house and fixed some tea. They sat at the table drinking it.

  A few minutes later, Sheriff Casey joined them and Kyle poured him some tea as well.

  Jan stared into her cup. “All these years, we’ve been blaming Nancy for not contacting her family. We thought she was being selfish and thinking only of her own happiness. And all the time, she was dead. She didn’t even get a proper burial.”

  “You can remedy that now,” Kyle assured her. “After the sheriff releases her remains, you can give her a proper funeral.”

  Jan glanced at the sheriff for confirmation.

  “Yes, when the coroner gets done, I’ll release the body to the family.”

  Jan nodded. “I must let Mom know. But not right now, it’s the middle of the night in England. Oh, God, I wonder if that’s the reason so many people were against your project.”

  “Hm. You think this might be what they had to hide? I always thought that watershed excuse was pretty thin,” Sheriff Casey said.

  “Maybe when you find out who did all the dirty tricks to stop my project, you’ll know who hid her body there,” Kyle said.

  “And who did her in,” Sheriff Casey said, running his long fingers through his sparse hair. “I think some people know a lot more about this than they’re telling.”

  “She was murdered?” Jan gasped.

  “Sorry, didn’t I say that? We’ll need the coroner’s report, but after all these years, he doesn’t have much to go on. But her skull was crushed at the back, so it’s safe to say someone killed her. And the fact that she was buried beneath the silo foundation, of course.”

  Jan’s stomach churned, again threatening to empty its contents, though she doubted any were left in it. “Just like my dream,” she muttered.

  “What?” the sheriff asked.

  “Nothing,” Jan replied. She couldn’t tell him about her dreams and about seeing the ghost of Aunt Esther crying. Or the family Bible that moved from place to place and opened itself to the page with her death recorded. He’d think she was crazy. Best to not mention those things.

  Casey asked, “Do you have any idea when that silo was built? Or who built it?”

  Abruptly, Jan rose and went to the living room, returning with the family Bible. She opened it to the center page and turned it to show the sheriff. “Here’s the exact date of Nancy’s death,” she said. “Aunt Esther recorded it. That’s her handwriting. How did she know?”

  The sheriff stared at it and wrote the date in his notebook. “Maybe she knew Nancy was murdered, but was afraid to report it,” he said grimly. “That would mean someone intimidated her to keep her quiet. Wasn’t Nancy supposed to have eloped with someone? I wasn’t here back then, of course, but someone mentioned it after Horace died.”

  “That’s the story they told everyone. That she eloped with one of the itinerant workers who built the silo. That’s why I’m sure that’s when the silo was built.”

  “I see. But how is it connected to all the things that have been happening lately? The dirty tricks on your building project, slashed tires, the barn fire?”

  “Not to mention all the workers that I’m sure were bribed to quit,” Kyle said grimly. “I think it means someone knew all about this and didn’t want that silo removed. You might start with Alex Porter and Erick Andrews. They’ve been the loudest objectors.”

  “Mebbe so,” Sheriff Casey said. “And don’t forget Sylvia Netters.”

  Kyle winced and looked away, saying nothing.

  Jan’s breath caught in her throat and jealousy curled in her gut. Was Kyle protecting his lovely neighbor?

  Casey turned back to Jan. “Can you give me any details of Nancy’s life back then? Her friends and so on?”

  Jan shrugged. “Sorry. We were only here for about a year. And don’t forget, I was only ten years old. Nancy was sixteen, so we hardly shared the same circle of friends. And I haven’t seen Uncle Horace since Aunt Esther’s funeral later that same summer.”

  “I see. Well, give me your mother’s number. I’ll call her and break the news to her. And get her take on this, too.”

  He wrote down the number Jan read him from her cell phone. With a long sigh, he rose. “Thanks for the tea, Miss Kerry. I’ll keep in touch. But don’t get your hopes up. A fifteen year old murder won’t be easy to solve.”

  Jan nodded and walked with him to the door.

  Casey turned and glanced back at Kyle. “You’re staying here with Miss Kerry?”

  Kyle returned his look with an equally hard stare. “Yes. After the fire, I didn’t feel it was safe for her to stay here alone.”

  “I see.” Casey nodded and left.

  Jan closed the door and sighed. “I suppose that means he and all the rest of this little town disapprove.”

  “I could care less what they think,” he said, coming back to enfold her in his arms. “I just want you safe. Can you doubt that after last night?”

  “No,” she agreed, leaning into his chest.

  “Or that it’s necessary?” Kyle added. “With all the nasty things that have been happening out here and then finding her body today…well, it seems evil has been lurking on this farm for many years.”

  “I agree,” Jan said. “And all the Bibles and prayers Uncle Horace spouted apparently weren’t enough to ward them off.”

  Chapter 8

  An hour later, Jan was still sorting books in Horace’s office when the doorbell rang. She sneezed as the moldy smelling dust motes tickled her nose, wiped her dusty hands on the cloth she’d been using to clean books and went to answer it.

  “Erick,” she exclaimed as she opened the door to find their real estate broker standing there. “What brings you out here?”

  “Your mother called and asked me to check on you,” he said, eying her dirty clothes.

  “My mother? Called you from London?” Jan repeated, disbelief making her voice end in a squeak.

  “Yes. She said she couldn’t get through to your cell phone,” he said, shifting impatiently. “May I come in?”

  Jan hesitated, then opened the door. “I’ve been sorting Horace’s library. I’m a mess.”

  “So I see.” Distaste colored his comment. He followed her into the kitchen where she washed her hands at the sink.

  “I’ll make some coffee,” she said, waving him to a chair at the round wooden table.

  “Why didn’t you answer your cell?” Erick asked.

  Jan pulled her cell out of her jeans pocket and looked at the screen. “Low battery. I need to charge it.” She plugged it into the charger on the counter.

  Erick whined, “You’d told her about Nancy’s body being found, so she’s worried about your safety out here.”

  Jan laughed, glancing at him as she put a filter and grounds into the coffeemaker. “Nancy was killed fifteen years ago. Why would that make me in danger now?”

  He shrugged. “Well, you know, all the stuff that’s been happening out here. The whole town’s talking about bad luck following Kyle’s project.”

  She frowned at him. “You told Mom about those things? Why?”

  He flushed and fidgeted on the wooden chair. “Well, you know, she asked how things were going, so I told her.”

  Jan gaped at him. “You had no business telling her that stuff. I didn’t tell her about it ‘cause she fusses. And she can’t do anything about it from London, can she?”

  He shrugged. “I guess not.”

  She shot
him a frustrated frown. “So, you can just call her back and tell her everything’s fine here, okay?”

  “Uh, sure. I can do that,” he said with a sheepish look on his face.

  The doorbell rang again. With a sigh, she went to answer it. This time, Louise Robards stood on the doorstep. Her heavy-set body filled out a blue business suit and her face wore and eager smile.

  “Hi. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d see if you’ve found anything you wish to donate to the Historical Society,” she said.

  “Come on in. Mr. Andrews is here and I’m making some coffee. I’ve got several boxes of books and some furniture for you to look at.”

  Erick seemed embarrassed to be caught at the farm and after hurriedly drinking his coffee and making small talk for a few minutes, took his leave.

  Jan was happy to have him go. Louise’s arrival had forestalled any attempt he might have made to ask her out. She was sure Laura’s phone call had been prompted as much by a match-making attempt as by worry for her daughter’s safety. Laura never tired of trying to marry her off.

  Louise looked up as Jan came back from seeing Erick to the door. “I don’t like that man,” she commented. “Be careful around him.”

  “I will.”

  Louise set her cup on the table and rose to her feet. “Let’s see what you’ve found for me here.”

  Jan took her through the various rooms, showing her the few pieces of furniture she thought might be antiques. “Whatever you’d like is fine with me and Mom,” she told Louise. “We’re just giving the rest to Goodwill. And what they don’t want will go into the dumpster outside.”

  “Oh, we’ll be happy to take some of these chests of drawers,” Louise said. “And Horace’s desk, too, if you don’t mind. I always admired that piece.”

  “Kyle thought you might want some of these history books,” Jan said, opening a box and pointing to its contents. There are lots of old Bibles and Bible reference books too.”

  Louise began picking up and glancing through some of the Bibles. “No, I don’t think we’ll want these. Nothing special about them that I can see,” she said. “But I’m sure his church will want them. They always hand out free Bibles to people. I’ll take them and drop them off to them.”