by Amie Denman
At last. The ambulance slowed and Caroline positioned herself in the driver’s view of his side mirror so she could give him hand signals as he backed in. Every minute counted.
As soon as the ambulance stopped, her brother jumped out of the passenger side door. The chief of the Starlight Point Fire Department, he still responded to emergency calls, especially ones that were serious.
She was relieved to see him because, even though he’d tortured her as a child by hiding frogs in her bedroom and stealing her french fries, he was the most dependable person she knew. If the injured man’s life and legs could be saved, Scott would make sure it happened.
Scott nodded at her, but his expression was all business. He and his partner jerked the gurney out of the back of the ambulance and placed it next to the injured man. Scott knelt and assessed the situation, talking to the patient and giving directions to his partner and the other men standing around. Caroline waited, radio in hand, in case her brother needed her to call for backup.
Matt knelt next to Scott, obviously offering to help. Caroline watched him hold a splint by the man’s injured legs while Scott and his partner secured it. He looked up at her once and their eyes connected. Even that brief contact showed her the pain Matt was in. She wanted to help, but as a police officer, not a paramedic, it was her responsibility to secure the scene.
The backup ambulance arrived and two more paramedics immediately began assisting with the patient. Matt got up and stood next to Caroline, watching the scene on the ground unfold.
“Are you okay?” she asked him.
“No. But I’m better than he is.”
“You’re not injured, are you?” she asked. Caroline felt off-balance, nervous, because she didn’t have the facts of the accident. How had it happened? Who was involved?
Matt shook his head. “Jackson is one of my best guys. Worked with him on several projects, heck of a nice guy.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Truck backed over him. Crushed his legs. I didn’t see it, but I heard the yelling.”
“Did anyone witness it?”
Matt cut her a look. “We can do the report later, and you can interrogate the rest of the guys then.”
Caroline sucked in a sharp breath at his tone. “That’s not what I meant.”
Matt passed a hand over his eyes. “Sorry.”
They watched the paramedics working under the careful direction of Caroline’s brother. They secured Jackson to a backboard, immobilizing him before lifting him onto the gurney. Instead of rolling it, four men lifted the cot and slid it carefully into the ambulance.
“I called his wife,” Matt told Scott. “She’ll meet you at the hospital in Bayside.”
Scott nodded, a grim expression on his face. “They’re probably going to transfer him right away to a trauma hospital, but she’ll get to see him before he goes.”
Caroline’s brother was always serious about his job and safety. But his face carried the ultra-serious expression he only reserved for especially somber events. She’d seen it on several occasions, especially last summer when Scott pulled Evie Hamilton out of a burning hotel, saving her life.
“Will he be okay?” she asked her brother softly.
Scott wrinkled his brow. “His legs are bad. Could have internal bleeding. Lucky the ground was fairly soft so there was a little give. He’s looking at surgery and a very long recovery.”
Caroline’s brother got in the driver’s seat, activated the flashing lights and drove carefully out of the construction zone. She heard him turn on the siren a moment later as he skirted the parking lot and headed for the Point Bridge.
“Anything I can do?” she asked Matt. She’d asked once before and already knew the answer, but she wanted to reach out to him and try to erase the heartache he obviously felt for his employee.
Matt’s phone rang and took his attention away from her. As he held the phone in his hand and read the screen for the caller’s identity, Caroline noticed his hand shaking.
“My brother,” he told Caroline as he swiped to answer the phone.
Giving Matt privacy to talk to Lucas, Caroline joined the group of men talking with the police chief and another officer. The construction workers stared at the ground and occasionally cast nervous glances at each other.
There would be tough questions to ask for the official report, and it appeared the police chief had already started.
* * *
“I’M DRIVING INTO the parking lot when I see an ambulance go flying out of your construction zone,” Lucas said. “You better not be in it.”
“One of my guys,” Matt explained, his hand gripping his cell phone. “Truck backed over him.”
“Is he okay?”
“No. His legs were crushed, and I don’t know what else. All I know is he’s still alive. Thank God.”
“Don’t those trucks have backup alarms?” Lucas asked.
“Yes, but if you hang around construction sites long enough, you start to hear those alarms in your sleep.”
“Did you talk to Bruce yet and tell him what’s going on?”
“No,” Matt said. The last thing he wanted to do was pile more worry on his stepfather, especially with his heart condition. But Bruce was his next phone call. He owned the business, and he had to be informed, especially with a case of a serious employee injury. Matt’s heart was heavy, hoping his friend and employee Jackson would be all right. It was also heavy with doubt.
Whenever something bad happened on a construction job, the man in charge was responsible. Could Matt have done something to prevent it? Jackson might never walk again, work again. How could Matt live with knowing the accident happened on his watch?
Bruce had every right to wonder if leaving the construction business to Matt was a smart move. Matt wondered about it himself.
“I’m headed to the hospital in a few minutes,” he told his brother. “I’ll call you later.”
Matt’s boots felt as if they were filled with concrete as he trudged back to the circle of his workers. A tight-knit crew, they had built a gymnasium for the Catholic school in town and a warehouse for a local manufacturing company over the winter. Earlier in the spring, they’d finished an outdoor recreation area complete with ropes courses and water slides for a local hotel that wanted to offer its guests a resort experience.
And those projects were only part of their schedule for the past year. The coaster was the largest project they’d tackled as a team, but it was also the largest project the Bayside area had seen in years.
He knew his men were hurting. Especially the man who was driving the truck, whoever that was. Assigning blame had been the last thing on his mind while Jackson lay on the ground drifting in and out of consciousness. Now that there was nothing he could do to help his injured employee, Matt stopped and listened to the questions from the police chief.
Caroline stood next to her boss, writing down statements and filling out what was probably an official report on a clipboard. Paperwork. He’d known it was coming.
“And you say you didn’t see him behind the truck,” Chief Walker said.
“I did see him,” Babcock said. “At first. He was helping me back between two posts we already set. I saw him in my side mirror and then he was gone.”
Will Babcock was old enough to be Matt’s father, and he’d been with Bayside Construction as long as Matt could remember. He was no-nonsense and efficient, even with a bad back resulting from years of heavy manual labor.
“Where did you think he went?” Caroline asked. “When you didn’t see him in your mirror any longer?”
Matt stiffened at her tone. There was a hint of accusation in it. He had to admit he was wondering the same thing, but life in a construction zone was never neat and tidy. Distractions and hazards were lurking everywhere. Di
d Caroline realize that?
“It’s a construction zone,” Babcock said. “I sure as hell didn’t think he went out for ice cream.”
“Easy, Babcock,” Matt said. “It’s just a question.” And cooperating was going to make this a lot easier, he thought.
“You think I’d run over him if I saw him back there? We’ve been friends for years. I went to his wedding.”
“I know,” Matt said. “We’re all friends.” Babcock’s initial stunned silence after the accident had turned into anger. His face was red and his voice shook. Emotions were high, but it was Matt’s job to show leadership, no matter how uncertain he felt right now.
“So, he disappeared from your view in the side mirror and you kept backing up,” the police chief said, keeping his tone even. “What happened next?”
“That’s when I heard the screaming.”
“Who was screaming?” Caroline asked.
“I was,” Walton said. Walton was the member of their crew with the most explosive temper. Matt had seen him throw a hammer in frustration, kick the heck out of a truck tire and lay out a string of expletives when things weren’t going his way. At the moment, however, he was icy calm.
“I didn’t see how it happened, but I turned around from what I was doing and saw the truck go right—” he paused and his jaw worked “—right over Jackson. And then stop. That’s why I was yelling. The truck was on him.”
Caroline was listening and nodding. She must have been right outside the gate and she probably heard the same words that had caught Matt’s attention. A desperate shout telling the truck driver to get the truck off the injured man. If he lived a hundred years, Matt would never forget hearing Walton’s yell.
The police chief sent an assessing look around the group. “Anyone witness it? See exactly how it happened?”
The other six men shook their heads. They’d been doing their jobs, same as Matt. He hadn’t seen it either, and he shook his head along with his crew.
The chief inspected the back of the truck, looking carefully at the tires. “For your own benefit, I want you to turn this truck on and put it in reverse. I need to hear that the alarm is functional so I can include it in the report,” the chief said.
No one volunteered. No one wanted to touch the truck that had just nearly killed and probably crippled their friend and coworker.
“I’ll do it,” Matt said.
He climbed into the driver’s seat, turned the key and put the truck in reverse. He kept his foot firmly on the brakes, not wanting a repeat of the morning’s tragedy. Everyone, including Matt, heard the familiar beeping of the backup alarm. Matt let it beep for a few seconds longer to assure the police chief there was no mechanical failure to blame, and then he took the truck out of gear and turned it off. He didn’t want to get out of the driver’s seat. He sat there for a moment, wishing he could start the day over.
It only took a fraction of a second to change someone’s life. How he wished he could give Jackson back those seconds so he wouldn’t be in an ambulance right now.
Matt pulled himself together and climbed out of the truck, knowing his crew needed him now more than ever. When he went around the truck, the chief and Caroline were both squatting and peering under the axle. Caroline was pointing at something and talking in low tones to her boss.
Matt’s heart sank. What did they see? Had he failed to maintain the truck? Was he to blame for the workplace accident?
His worst nightmare. Letting down Bruce Corbin. Letting down his crew. Letting down the company he’d hoped to inherit in order to secure a future for his mother and brother.
Matt glanced at his crew. Their shattered faces and silence spoke for them. Like him, they all knew the accident could just as easily have happened to any of them. It was the life of a construction crew, working daily with dangerous equipment, timelines, weather and land conditions that were sometimes beyond their control.
“That could be it,” Caroline said.
Matt poked his head under the back of the truck, ready to face whatever the police had found.
Caroline was pointing at a bar of rolled steel. About three inches in diameter and six feet long, it sat under the truck. There were dozens of pieces just like it scattered around the construction zone. Sometimes used in reinforcing concrete, sometimes as part of the framing structure.
“What could be it?” he asked. What did the steel have to do with the accident?
“Maybe he tripped over that and fell. That’s why the driver didn’t see him,” Caroline said. “Or he might have stepped on it and it rolled out from under his foot.”
It was plausible. But what did it matter? Matt knew it was an accident, no matter how it happened. And finding a piece of steel to blame didn’t change the fact that one of his men was severely injured and the rest of them felt as if they’d been punched. Especially the driver of the truck.
“Could be,” Matt acknowledged without much enthusiasm.
Caroline looked strangely excited about her discovery. Her cheeks were flushed and she spoke rapidly. “I’ll bet that’s what happened,” she said.
Matt was in no mood to enjoy resolving mysteries or solving riddles. It wouldn’t help Jackson right now—he was probably arriving at the hospital at the same time as his panicked wife.
Matt remembered meeting Jackson’s wife at their wedding and at the company Christmas party. She was in her midtwenties like her husband. Too young to be facing today’s disaster.
“Chief,” Matt said, “do you see a problem with me leaving right now? I want to go to the hospital and talk to Jackson’s wife. I have to make a few calls first so I can assure her we’ll do everything we can to get him back on his feet.”
The chief nodded. “Just don’t take this truck. Otherwise, you’re all free to go. This isn’t a crime scene.”
Without looking at Caroline, Matt turned and addressed his crew. “Button up the site as best you can and go home for the day. I’ll send text updates on Jackson. We’ll meet at the office tomorrow morning at six and talk about this.” He lowered his voice and glanced around the group. “Take care of yourselves, guys.”
He put a hand on Babcock’s shoulder as he passed him, hoping the gesture would convey what words could not. As he walked to his truck parked near the fence, Matt heard footsteps behind him. He stopped and turned.
It was Caroline, but her expression was no longer that of an archeologist discovering a long-forgotten cache of treasure.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Caroline,” he said.
“Okay.”
She fell into step beside him as they picked their way across the uneven ground. “I just wanted to catch up with you to say I’m sorry this happened and offer to help if I can.”
“You aren’t hunting for more clues?” he asked.
She drew a quick breath and he berated himself for his lousy tone. He was surprised she continued to walk with him to his truck. If someone talked to him like that, he’d head the other way.
When they got to his truck, Caroline leaned on the driver’s door and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Sorry about saying that,” Matt said.
“People say all kinds of things when they’re upset. It’s been a terrible morning, a huge shock.”
Matt took off his hard hat and rolled his head back. The sky was bright blue. It would be a beautiful day, but Jackson wouldn’t see any of it.
“It’s shocking, but it isn’t. Accidents happen all the time in work zones. It’s a dangerous job.” He met her eyes and waited a beat. “Accidents,” he repeated.
Caroline bit her lip and drew her eyebrows together. “I always want to find out exactly what happened and why. Maybe it’s my police training. I’m afraid if I shrug and call something an accident, it belittles it. It means I’m not searching for answers
anymore. And people deserve answers. Always.”
Matt waited. There were many things he didn’t know about her, but he could see she was having a hard time accepting this for what it was.
“Some things just...happen,” Matt said. His words felt empty, but he didn’t know what to say.
Instead of answering him, Caroline shoved off from the door of his truck and gave him a quick, hard hug. He barely had time to register the feeling of her arms around his chest and her hair tickling his chin. The hug was over in just seconds, but he didn’t think he’d soon forget it. She was softer than he’d imagined. Had he imagined how she’d feel? And she smelled like she looked. Feminine, but without fuss.
What on earth made her hug him like that?
Caroline released him and lingered, her face only inches from his.
Matt had never doubted his own strength, both physical and emotional. But somehow he felt stronger because of her. He realized how nice it would be to have her by his side, but then he remembered his problems were his own—to shoulder and resolve. There were no easy answers for him, no downtime.
Perhaps Caroline saw the reserve in his expression because she lightly patted his shoulder and walked away.
As Matt turned to watch her leave, still mystified by her actions, he saw the police chief staring at them. Would Caroline be in trouble for hugging a contractor while officially on duty? Matt doubted it.
But he was sure of one thing. The police chief looked just as confused as Matt felt, and the day was far from over for both of them.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I’M SORRY,” Caroline told a little girl at the ride entrance. “The Scrambler is closed for maintenance right now.”
“How long?”
“I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know. Maybe you could stop by later?”