by Marni Mann
“Peter White was my father.”
“Can you state your relationship to Randy White?”
“He’s my uncle, and my father’s only brother.”
“Can you describe the events that took place on…” He kept talking, but I stopped listening. I never discussed what happened at Randy’s jobsite. Never. I tried not to even think about it. I knew one day I’d have to give an account of those details, I just hadn’t thought about what that day would look like. And now that I was here and there were two more victims in the hospital, I wanted to pound my fists against the table and call Randy exactly what he was: a goddamn murderer. These formalities weren’t necessary.
“We were working on a six-story mid-rise in the outskirts of Portsmouth,” I said. “The project had been delayed several times. It had been blamed on wrong materials, but we all knew it was because Randy didn’t have the cash to pay the distributors. When the materials finally arrived, we were under a strict deadline to finish. On the day in question, my father was standing on a section of scaffolding on the east side of the building. It was snowing. The scaffolding had been up overnight and there was a layer of ice on the bottom. We’d tried to salt it as much as we could, but we were running out of that, too.” I remembered how goddamn cold it was that day. Everyone was moving so slowly, but with my help, there was a small chance we could make the deadline. Knowing that was enough to make me want to be there. “The guys were on the scaffolding putting on the trusses. While I was walking past it to grab the nail gun, I noticed the screw jack in the base plates were starting to come loose and buckling under the added weight. My father was holding the truss over his head; a second team was on the other side bolting down their end. I called up to him, but it was so loud no one could hear me.” Dad’s feet weren’t steady. His knees were shaking. He had to know something was wrong, yet he didn’t move, continuing to hold that truss. “I looked for the megaphone and couldn’t find it. I tried to find some extra hands to help me screw in the jacks, but there was no one around besides the men on the scaffolding. Then I noticed the end frame began to wobble. The frame coupler was giving out, too, and the vertical bracing was getting ready to fall. The entire structure was caving from the weight. My father turned toward me, the truss still in his hands. He knew what was happening…” I’d seen it in his eyes—the fear, the panic; the knowledge of what he needed to do in that moment, what we’d all been trained to do. “He dropped the truss and reached for the lifeline, but he was too late. The platform tilted forward, and his feet slid off. There was nothing else for him to grab onto. Nothing.” I took a breath.
Silence. That’s all I heard. When I looked at Frankie, her eyes were wide and she was holding back tears, her hand still on my leg. I didn’t dare look at Hayden so I peered down at the wooden table.
“When you’re ready, please describe the scene that followed.”
That asshole wanted me to tell him what it looked like to watch my father fall through the air and tumble to his death on the snow covered ground? Hell no. I wouldn’t do that. It wouldn’t help the case and it wouldn’t put Randy away any faster.
“He fell.” I finally looked up, staring at the end of the table. “His hardhat wasn’t enough protection—he was too high up. I couldn’t look away when he hit the ground. I tried to…”
Frankie squeezed my hand.
“I understand these questions are painful, but any details you can provide will be extremely helpful.”
I ran my hands over my face, closing my eyes briefly. I saw it. I saw the whole fucking thing. There was no lapse in my memory, no fog; no snow in my eyes as I tried to recount what had happened. “He landed face down,” I finally said. “I checked his pulse and screamed his name. Nothing. No movement. Blood leaked from his nose and his mouth onto the snow. There was a pool of it; it surrounded my feet, but I didn’t move. At some point, the ambulance and police showed up. I don’t know who called them. It wasn’t me.”
His eyes were open. The whole time, his eyes were open.
I didn’t tell him that. I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud.
“I have a copy of the police report,” he said. “A witness gave their statement, saying the scaffolding hadn’t been cleared for safety that morning, therefore your father shouldn’t have been on it. The witness also said your father was the only member of the crew to use the scaffolding that day. According to the investigation, there was no foul play and no tampering with the evidence was suspected or found.”
“And the trusses disappeared from the jobsite…I know. I’ve read the report. And I read where the guys stated they were working on framing the interior ground level that day, which is bullshit.” That motherfucker had the evidence removed to save his own ass. “Why didn’t the police check the top of the building to see if there were bolt marks where the truss had been secured?” There was silence as he skimmed the papers in front of him. “Had they checked it, they would have seen the holes. And the only way the holes could have gotten there was if someone—like my father—was on the opposite side holding up the other end of the truss.” I knew my voice was too loud, but I didn’t give a fuck. “It’s not a one-man job; he wouldn’t be able to do it by himself. No one else saw what happened…it was just me and my father on the east side of the building. The witness is a fake, someone paid off by Randy. I was the only witness…so why didn’t anyone believe me when I gave my statement back then?”
He glanced down, flipping through several pages. I wasn’t looking for him to give me an answer; I knew he didn’t have one. He wasn’t there. And my statement wouldn’t be found in those papers because it had never been recorded—another mysterious omission amid all this treachery. But to everyone at the table, the answer should have been quite obvious.
“Although the equipment hadn’t been cleared for safety, when it was later inspected it appeared to have all the necessary components to meet code. Would you agree with that statement?”
“Agree?” I laughed. It was that or yell and the laughing felt better. “I don’t agree at all.”
“What makes you believe it wasn’t?”
“Randy’s scaffolding only had toprails, no midrail or toeboard and no fall arrest system. There was a vertical lifeline, but they were suspended lines from the scaffolding, not independent lines. Plus the anchorage points were weak and couldn’t support the amount of weight they needed to.”
“You were so young at the time. How can you be positive it was missing those components?”
How could I be positive? Now he was just insulting me.
“Fred, I’m in the construction business, and I have been since I was able to walk. I can construct scaffolding like you can screw in a goddamn light bulb. I’m able to spot a missing component in seconds. I could then, too. What I’m telling you isn’t a minor detail that I remember. It’s fact.”
Fred glanced at the other suits around the table. I kept my eyes on him. I heard writing, pages turning. What I didn’t hear was anyone else questioning my facts.
“Let’s switch gears a little,” he said. “Was it typical for your father to help the crew? He was the foreman so I assume most of his job consisted of managing?”
“The weather conditions were less than ideal, they were too close to the power lines and the scaffolding was beyond the maximum weight capacity. My father knew that; it’s why he was up there in place of one of his men. He didn’t want to order them to do something that he wouldn’t do himself. The truth is, no one should have been on that equipment.”
“To your knowledge, was Randy made aware that the equipment wasn’t safe?”
My hands clenched underneath the table as I thought about his question. That motherfucker had been made aware. That conversation was the reason I called him a goddamn murderer.
“At the beginning of the project, my father had placed an order for toeboards. They were on backorder due to the weather, but they finally arrived cash-on-delivery. My father hadn’t realized they would come tha
t way, he thought they would be billed to Randy’s account. Without a check to pay for them, they were returned. Randy found out and came to the jobsite one Saturday morning screaming about unnecessary costs. My father told him how unsafe things were. Randy didn’t give a shit. It was all about the bottom line to him. Always had been. There was yelling back and forth on both sides and eventually my father caved. He wasn’t the boss. He didn’t have much of a choice.”
“How about—”
“Let me make something clear.” I looked at Frankie. She hadn’t made a sound the entire time we’d been in this conference room. But the emotion in her eyes had deepened. She’d almost been a victim, too. What Randy had done to her affected me as much as what he’d done to my father. “As an owner of a construction company, it’s up to me to make sure my men are safe. It’s up to me to make sure they’re trained on safety protocols, to provide equipment that maintains proper levels, to spend the time and resources to make sure all the rules are followed. Safety comes first on all jobsites. A foreman and crew can only work with the materials they’re given. That’s what my father did: he made the best of a shitty situation.”
“And Randy?”
My teeth ground together. “Randy knew the conditions, he knew the risks, and he was warned about both. Refusing to pay for proper equipment is negligence and that negligence got my father killed. That’s not an accident. That’s murder.”
Fred looked down at his notepad, crossing off items I must have already answered. He then glanced around the table. “Does anyone have any other questions for Mr. Block?” The silence pressed on for several seconds. “Well then, it appears you’ve answered all of our preliminary questions. We thank you for coming in, Mr. Block. We’ll be in touch shortly.”
I stood and took Frankie’s hand again and we followed Hayden down the hallway. I felt my feet moving, smelled Hayden’s perfume as she walked ahead of me. But I didn’t take a breath until we stepped inside the elevator.
“Jesus,” Hayden said once the door closed. “I’ve sat in on hundreds of witness testimonies and none of them was as harrowing as that.” She wrapped her shaking hands around her stomach. She’d heard pieces, but never the full account. I’d tried to protect her from it—my mother, too.
“I wish you hadn’t been in that room,” I told her.
Her eyes began to fill. “The part about how he landed and…oh God.”
I was glad I hadn’t told her the rest. “Come here.” I opened my arms and pulled her into a hug, taking her weight before she collapsed. I looked at Frankie. “Stop the elevator.”
Frankie pulled the red knob and the elevator halted immediately. The last thing Hayden needed was for her colleagues to see her falling apart like this. She needed privacy. Hell, we both needed it. And a drink, which I wouldn’t be getting because we needed to go straight back to the hospital.
A set of arms wrapped around Hayden and me. It was Frankie, standing to the side of us. Hayden looked up as she felt Frankie’s presence and I watched the emotion wash over her face. Both their faces. Hayden’s arm slid out and gripped Frankie. We were in a circle, all three of us holding each other up.
Hayden tucked her head into my chest as my eyes connected with Frankie’s. Her smile showed the depth of her compassion. It was the comfort Hayden needed at the moment.
“I love you,” Frankie mouthed.
I realized then how much I needed that, too. And fuck, didn’t I love her more.
FOURTEEN.
FRANKIE
“DEREEEEK,” I SHOUTED, sitting up in bed and throwing the covers off me. “Get in here. Hurry!” The sound of him climbing out of bed had woken me. I could hear him in the kitchen now cooking breakfast; I hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, so I’d turned on the TV. “Dereeeek!” I shouted again. I didn’t want him to miss even a second of what was showing on the screen.
“Are you okay, baby?” There was a dishtowel draped over his shoulder. His electric blue eyes were worried and intense. God, he was so sexy, even in the morning.
I pointed at the TV. “Look.”
The newscaster was giving a brief explanation of what Randy was being accused of and the crimes that had led up to his arrest. The screen was split, showing her face and the live feed of him being escorted into the police station. “Sources say there are several city employees in the permitting department, building codes and safety department, who are being accused of taking cash payments from White Construction,” the reporter said. “Sources are also confirming White has several offshore accounts that are currently being seized. We will keep you informed as more information surfaces…”
As soon as it went back to a full screen, his phone started ringing. I didn’t have to see his caller ID to know who it was. It looks like we both knew as Derek immediately put it on speakerphone. “Did you see the news?” Hayden asked. Her voice was much livelier than it had been in the elevator after Derek’s testimony a few weeks ago. That had been a rough moment for both of them.
“We just saw it,” he said. “The motherfucker looks better in handcuffs than I thought he would. Did you know it was going to happen this morning?”
“I had a hunch,” Hayden said.
“In lawyer terms, that means you were informed.”
“We did it, brother.”
I didn’t ignore the fact that she had changed the subject. It infuriated Derek that there were certain things Hayden wouldn’t tell him that had to do with the case. I was sure this was one of them…or maybe not, considering his smile was wider than I’d ever seen it. Brighter, too. “You did it.”
“Stop it. We both did it.”
I didn’t care who did it, I was just glad Randy was behind bars for the moment.
Derek had received the findings from both investigators just days after the accident and both confirmed that his equipment had been tampered with. Through video feed, they were able to determine it was a construction worker who had done it. Enough of his face had showed in the feed to know it wasn’t one of Derek’s guys, but the police were trying to identify who the man was. We knew it would lead back to someone Randy had hired. We just didn’t know how long it would take to prove that. In the meantime, combined with what Randy had done to me, Derek was practically exploding with anger. It took everything I had to stop him from going to Randy’s. I knew if he got his hands on his uncle, he wouldn’t let go until he stopped breathing.
“So what now, Hayden?” Derek asked.
“We have to collect more evidence, and I anticipate a long trial. But from everything I’ve seen so far, I’m pretty confident in saying he’ll be sentenced.”
“Give me a number.”
“Derek—”
“A number, Hayden.”
“I can’t be certain. It depends on how many crimes he’s charged with. This is just a guess, but I would say ten years minimum.”
Derek walked to the end of the bed and sat down. I crawled over to him and straddled his waist. My arms went around his neck and it was then that I realized I was naked. He had realized it long before, his eyes frozen on my nipples as I’d moved over to him. “I want him to get more,” he said. “He deserves to get so much more.”
“He very well may get it. Let’s worry about that when we go to trial. Tonight, let’s celebrate. How about dinner?”
“You got it.” With his hand, he was circling my hardened nipples, slowly rubbing his thumb over the tips of each. I had to stop myself from moaning.
“I really hope Frankie will consider joining us. I would love for her to be there.”
Derek looked up from my breasts. There was desire in his eyes. Lust. There was a little hope in there, too.
“I’ll be there, Hayden,” I said.
He smiled, licking his bottom lip.
“I didn’t realize I was on speakerphone. I’m so happy to hear that, Frankie. I’ll see you both tonight.”
Derek said good-bye and tossed the phone on the other side of the bed.
“You got w
hat you wanted,” I said as my hands brushed through his beard. “Randy’s going to be locked up for at least ten years. Plus whatever time he’ll get for tampering with the equipment at Timber Towers once the police prove it’s him. You’re quite the hero, Mr. Block.”
“I haven’t gotten everything I want.”
I pulled his bottom lip into my mouth and gently bit down. “Oh no?” He shook his head, his hands sliding to my sides. “I can fix that.” I climbed off his lap and went into the closet. He now had a small section in there where he kept his flannels and jeans, boots and workout clothes. I took one of his flannels off the hanger, stretched it the long way and twisted it as I walked back to the bed. “Tie me up,” I demanded.
A different smile now crossed his face as he stood and took the shirt out of my hands. He circled the fabric around my wrists and tied it through the headboard, knotting the end. “So submissive,” he whispered. “And so fucking sexy.”
“And all yours.”
I could see his erection through his mesh shorts before he dropped them and his T-shirt to the floor. My eyes landed on his tattoo, the way it looped over his thick, corded muscles. The name White was probably being blasted across every news channel today, it would run in every major newspaper in New England by tomorrow morning. That didn’t matter to me. Derek had long ago disassociated himself to the name Randy had built and ultimately destroyed. The only thing they had in common now was blood.
Derek’s mouth dove into my pussy, his long tongue lapping between my folds as his hands touched my breasts. The combination of both sensations caused me to moan instantly. He knew my body so well; he knew where I wanted the tip of his tongue and when I wanted him to flatten it; when I wanted him to lick horizontally or vertically. He knew when I wanted him to increase his speed and pressure, when I needed two fingers or just one.
“You like that roughness, don’t you?” he asked as I squeezed my legs together to get more of his whiskers on the inside of my thighs. He didn’t push them apart. Instead, he made sure to brush his beard even harder against my skin.