by Amie Denman
“Sorry,” Matt said. “I’ve been running a lot in the past year, but you’ve probably been too busy at college to run.”
“Busy,” Lucas said. “Out. Of. Shape.” He took breaths between each word and wiped his forehead with the edge of his race T-shirt. “Sorry to...slow you...down.”
“Heck, I don’t care,” Matt said, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’m here because it’s a good cause. They’ll get my donation whether I win or not.”
They walked along the Western Trail, shade trees blocking the morning sun. Some runners passed them, but there were other walkers around them. The race had started three hours before the park opened, and even the slowest runners would be off the course before the day’s crowds arrived.
“Thanks for paying my entrance fee,” Lucas said. “I’m thinking of volunteering at the shelter in Bayside. Maybe they need some art on their walls.”
“That would be nice. Maybe you could do a mural.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Lucas said. “I remember the white walls in that shelter where we ended up when the police locked our house and seized everything.”
Matt’s chest constricted and he risked a look at his younger brother. The brother he’d always tried to protect. “You were only five,” he said. Matt had been eleven—too old to be protected from the truth but too young to understand it. “Long time ago. And things have improved considerably for us since then.”
“No thanks to dear old Dad,” Lucas said. “If he was going to steal all that money, I wish he would’ve put some away to pay my tuition.”
“You can’t go to college on embezzled money. Besides, Bruce is covering your tuition. Just like he did mine.”
“Two years to go,” Lucas said. He cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the trail ahead of him. “I’m sure you’re worried about Bruce, too.”
Matt thought about the doctor’s prognosis that had Bruce making plans for the company’s future. His stepfather obviously believed his time was short, but Matt hoped the doctor was wrong, overly solicitous.
“It was a hard winter for him,” Matt said. “When Uncle John died, it seemed as if... I don’t know.” He almost said it seemed as if his stepfather had lost the will to live, but Matt didn’t want to think that. Not with the well-being of his mother, his brother and Bayside Construction on the line. Bruce was not a selfish man. He wouldn’t want to leave the people he cared about.
Unless he knew they were provided for.
“If things go bad with him,” Lucas asked, “what do you think will happen to the family business?”
“We talked about it, Bruce and I,” Matt admitted. “He’s worried about the future. Wants to make sure you get to finish school and Mom is set.”
“How’d we get so lucky to end up with a stepdad like him?”
“Believe me, I’ve wondered the same thing,” Matt said. “But we’ve earned his love. And his trust.”
“Does that trust include letting you take over the business?”
Matt did not want to talk about this. Not now when so much was on the line. But his brother deserved to know. They’d never held secrets from each other, each of them somehow knowing that their father’s legacy of lies ended the day he was sentenced to jail and permanently out of their lives.
“Bruce believes he has two options. Sell the business soon and invest the money for our family. Or take a chance on leaving it to me.”
Lucas sucked in a breath. “That’s a lot of pressure. But if I were him, I’d take a chance on you.”
Matt’s throat was tight. The stress of building a major project combined with wondering what the future would bring made his shoulders feel like ropes holding a wild horse. And hearing his brother’s confidence in him only made the stakes seem higher.
“I think he’d be taking a chance on us. The company will be yours, too, when you’re ready.”
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, and their breath returned to an easy rhythm.
“I could run again,” Lucas offered.
They jogged past the midway train station, the Sea Devil and along the fence at the construction zone. The five-kilometer course had started in the parking lot, wound all the way down the Starlight Point peninsula and back, and would end under a balloon arch near the marina. Bagels, bananas and a live band awaited them at the finish, but there were water stations staffed by off-duty employees along the way.
With only a half mile to go as they ran past the scrambler ride, Matt wouldn’t usually have stopped at a water station. He didn’t need a drink, but he couldn’t resist taking a cup from Caroline Bennett’s outstretched hand.
He’d spent just enough time with her that he couldn’t run right by. Didn’t want to race past without at least saying hello.
A Starlight Point photographer snapped a picture of Matt and Lucas as they slowed down. With their matching T-shirts and similar height and features, even a casual observer would probably peg them for brothers. But Matt had a few more wrinkles and pounds of muscle than his brother, in addition to the six years between them and the major differences between their chosen careers.
Matt had wanted to follow in Bruce Corbin’s footsteps ever since his mom remarried. Maybe it was because he’d desperately needed a male role model he believed in. But it was more than that. He loved the smells, sounds and feel of construction work. Liked to feel the dirt under his nails and under the soles of his work boots.
He and his brother had spent some time in therapy with their mother after their father’s incarceration. Matt had learned to work out his feelings. Lucas turned to art.
And he was good. His artist’s renderings of the new ride were detailed, impressive, and under lock and key at Bayside Construction. They were the drawings submitted to the Hamiltons for approval and would be shown to the press when the Hamilton family was ready for the grand reveal. It was Matt’s dream to have his brother by his side as he took over their stepfather’s construction business.
But the future was a work in progress. All he could do at the moment was put one foot in front of the other.
At the water station, Caroline wore shorts and an orange T-shirt similar to the ones handed out to the racers, but hers said Volunteer on the front. Her smile was friendly, but her eyes darted back and forth between him and his brother. Matt knew she would make the connection in seconds. He was actually surprised she hadn’t already figured out he had a brother working the art stand.
“So this is the man,” she said, pointing to Lucas, “who drew his brother driving a truck with the whole world in the bed.”
He had underestimated her, and it was a good reminder not to do that again. Even though she was off duty today, she could see right through him. Did she like what she saw?
“I should have drawn him winning this race,” Lucas said. “If it weren’t for me slowing him down, he’d be done by now.”
“I’m afraid to run with him,” Caroline said affably as she watched both brothers down their small cup of water. “I tried to catch up with him downtown one day and had to give up. I’d have to fake an injury if I were racing him.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Matt said. Caroline didn’t seem like the kind of person who faked anything.
She smiled and cocked her head. “Probably not. But I’ll warn you, I’m not a gracious loser.”
“I’ll remember that.”
The midway was littered with paper cups, but Matt tossed his and his brother’s in a nearby trash can.
Caroline put a hand lightly on his arm when he jogged back. “Thank you. Most people just throw their cups on the ground.”
“I’m not most people,” Matt said.
Her eyes widened just a little and she gave a slight nod. “I’ve noticed.”
“Thanks for the drink,” Matt said. He
turned to his brother. “Strong finish?”
“Right behind you,” Lucas said.
* * *
CAROLINE’S MORNING AT the water station had gone quickly and would be over in less than an hour. She wondered if she’d been assigned to work with Virginia Hamilton because of her family connection. Whatever the reason, Caroline admired the older lady’s energy and spirit.
A few minutes after the Dunbar brothers ran off toward the finish line, the number of racers dwindled to a few packs of walkers and slower joggers.
“I considered walking in the race, but it isn’t as much fun now that Betty died,” Virginia said.
Caroline swallowed. Who was Betty? Ever since her brother married Evie Hamilton in May, Caroline had felt like a member of the family. But she hadn’t met anyone named Betty.
“Did Betty enjoy walking?” she asked, hoping Virginia’s answer would provide the clue she needed.
“Used to. But when she got too old, she loved being pulled in a little red wagon I still had from when the kids were young.”
The dog. Caroline remembered seeing Virginia pulling a dog in the wagon last summer but she hadn’t known its name. At the time, as she’d patrolled the park and noticed the Hamiltons coming and going all over Starlight Point, she would never have imagined that her brother would marry into the family.
Evie had been good for Scott. She challenged him and made him open his heart—no easy task for someone who’d endured such a tragedy in his youth and took himself all too seriously as a result.
Do I take myself too seriously for the same reason?
Caroline grabbed a trash bag and began picking up discarded paper cups.
“Sorry to hear she passed away,” Caroline said. “She must have been part of your family for a long time.”
“She was fourteen. I’m thinking of getting a puppy this fall while there’s still good weather to train her before winter hits.”
“My brother always thinks I should get a dog for protection, but he forgets I lived in dorms for three years while I got my degree. You can’t have a pet in college dorms.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m going to the police academy in Bayside this fall. I hope.”
“Will you live with your brother and my daughter?” Virginia asked.
“Maybe. I’ll stay in the dorms here until the season ends and then figure it out.”
Virginia put an arm around Caroline’s shoulders, forcing her to stop picking up trash for a moment. “There’s a spare room at my house over on the Old Road if you ever need it. I’d love the company, and I consider you a member of the family.”
Caroline’s heart expanded in her chest. Virginia was offering her a home? Which was one more reason Caroline should reconsider looking into an old accident that could probably bring bad publicity to the Hamilton family and Starlight Point.
“Thanks,” Caroline said. “I’ll think about it. And I could help you train a puppy if you get one. I’d certainly rather live with you than newlyweds.”
Virginia laughed and filled paper cups for a group of walkers. She handed a cup to an older man Caroline recognized as one of the clerks who worked in cash control near the front gate.
“Why aren’t you racing?” the man asked Virginia. “I’m at least twenty years older than you are and I’m out here.” He smiled and tipped back his cup of water.
“Next year,” Virginia said. “We had such a great turnout for our first time that I think I can look forward to this every June.”
The older man crushed his cup and dropped it into the trash can. Like Matt had a few minutes earlier.
It was a small gesture, but something about Matt made her notice all the things he did. He took doughnuts to his crew and made truck drivers take responsibility for their accidents. And he remembered she liked maple frosting.
“That guy was here back when I started,” Virginia said after the older man had continued along the course.
“Did you work here?”
Virginia nodded. “Sure did. Summer employee just like everyone else.”
Caroline tried to add up the years in her head. It had to be before Virginia married and had kids...and Virginia’s oldest son, Jack, was probably almost thirty. Would Virginia have worked at the Point during the summer of 1985?
“That’s why Ford and I always insisted our kids had regular summer jobs, doing everything from emptying dumpsters to scooping ice cream to dancing in the shows. Made them appreciate how hard everyone works to make this place what it is.”
“Did you scoop ice cream or dance?”
“No.” Virginia smiled and shook her head. She looked up at the cable cars that were staged in the station, waiting for the park to open. “I was in rides. The carousel, kiddie rides, the Scrambler, roller coasters. Wherever they put me. There weren’t as many rides back then, but it was still fun.”
Was it possible Virginia had worked on the Loose Cannon?
“We had the worst uniforms,” Virginia said. “It was the eighties, so you wouldn’t have thought they’d be all polyester. But they were. I remember a lot of things about that summer, but being hot and itchy is almost at the top of the list.” Virginia’s smile faded and she looked down at the midway for a moment. “Almost.”
This is killing me, Caroline thought. When in the eighties?
“Which coasters did you work on?”
“Silver Streak, mostly,” Virginia said.
Caroline’s shoulders fell. Darn.
“But we rotated around a lot and made friends with all the other kids sweating it out in polyester jumpsuits. Some of the rides got a lot more attention and riders, so we gave them breaks sometimes,” Virginia continued.
“What was the popular ride that year?” Caroline asked, hoping she sounded like an interested employee of Starlight Point and not a detective nosing around a murder scene.
“You’ve probably never heard of it. It was short-lived. A roller coaster called the Loose Cannon.”
Caroline swallowed. She didn’t have to ask what year Virginia had worked there now. This was an incredible break. Virginia Hamilton had been a ride operator the summer of 1985! She had friends who worked the Loose Cannon. Maybe even worked it herself a few times. How much did she know?
More important, how much did Caroline dare to ask?
“I’ve heard of that ride,” Caroline said. “Some kind of accident?”
Virginia’s affable smile faded. “It was terrible what happened. Two people gone, just like that.”
“Two?” Caroline felt as if she were in the middle of city traffic with cars whooshing past her.
The older woman’s jaw tightened. “It was a long time ago.”
“I knew one girl died on the ride, but there were two?”
Virginia crossed her arms over her chest. Caroline was afraid she’d just crossed a major line, but she was desperate to find out what Virginia meant.
“I think we can close up our water station now,” Virginia said. “Race is about over.”
Reluctantly, Caroline flipped over their folding table and snapped the legs into their holders. She stacked it next to their chairs for the maintenance truck to pick up and then grabbed an extra trash bag to clean up the midway around their station.
“There’s something I’d like to ask you,” Virginia said. “It’s something we’ve tried to keep in the family, but we needed outside help last year.”
Caroline jammed cups into her trash bag, almost afraid to ask what family-type favor Virginia had in mind. Was she going to be let in on the family secrets and then sworn to silence?
“Your brother was kind enough to run my STRIPE program last year. He taught all those fire safety classes to our seasonal and full-time employees.”
“I remember,” Caroline said. “H
e made me demonstrate the correct use of a fire extinguisher in front of two hundred people.” And she’d had to listen to her coworkers grumble about being forced into Virginia’s classes every summer.
Because she thought employees should learn valuable life skills during their time at Starlight Point, Virginia mandated something special every year. Caroline had heard the stories about ballroom dancing lessons, conversational French, cake decorating and basic auto mechanics. Last year was fire safety, and Caroline had no idea what Virginia had planned for this summer.
“The STRIPE program is such a beloved part of the employee experience here,” Virginia said.
Caroline kept her head down, searching out stray cups on the midway. Beloved was not the word she’d heard for the program in the employee break room and dorms.
“It’s a dangerous world out there,” Virginia said. “So I thought a perfect topic for this year would be self-defense.”
Caroline stood straight and risked eye contact with Virginia. That was actually a good idea.
“And who better to teach it than you?” Virginia asked.
“You want me to teach self-defense?”
The older lady nodded vigorously. “I’ll recruit some volunteers to help you, of course, but I think you are the perfect person to teach people how to take down attackers and save themselves if they ever get in a bind. You are one tough cookie.”
Caroline smiled. “I want to be a cop so I can help other people, but teaching them to try to save themselves is a very good start.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“AREN’T YOU GLAD it’s your day off so you could come along?” Scott asked.
Caroline hated to admit it, but her brother was right. She was having a nice time, and even Scott looked relaxed. Instead of his usual fire department uniform, Scott Bennett wore a light blue button-down and tie. She didn’t have to look closely to know the firefighter symbol, a Maltese cross with axes and hoses, was the motif decorating the tie.
“And you look nice,” Scott continued. “People probably won’t recognize you since you’re not wearing your uniform.”