Chapter 5
At 8:15 am on a windy Wednesday morning, a small, red pickup truck pulled into the schoolhouse parking lot. The magnet sign on the side of the truck read: “Tyrell Heating and Cooling.” A few moments later, several more trucks arrived. Tires crunched the gravel as contractors eased their vehicles into various spots in the parking lot−totally random. Leaning against her car door, JD made a note in her planner to have parking signs installed.
The contractors gathered in front of the schoolhouse, mingling, smoking, or drinking coffee from white-lidded cups. They didn’t seem to notice her, or chose to ignore her as she waited, counting the trucks as they arrived. She had called sixteen various contractors, and so far, only nine had arrived – every single one of them late.
JD gave them a few minutes more to mill about reflecting on the times they had attended meetings like this with Gramps her whole life. Now, it was just her. She was the boss, and even though it brought a feeling of satisfaction, she couldn’t help but feel a tad nervous and her hands shook, just a little. When the crowd began to look restless, she stood up straight, ran her fingers through her hair and told herself, “I can do this.” She grabbed the bid packages from the passenger seat and strode smartly toward the group of male contractors. All heads turned in her direction as she approached. Some smiled, some looked serious, others a bit confused, but no one said anything.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said brightly as she strode past them to stand on the steps in front of the door to the schoolhouse. “Thank you for coming,” she began, and proceeded to give them a summary of the project and expectations. Then she handed each of the contractors a bid packet.
“Are there any questions?” she asked. There was a moment of silence before one skinny guy wearing a dirty ball cap and sporting a scraggly brown goatee peered up at her with an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. “Who’s the man in charge?” he asked. Someone grunted and another chortled.
“I am, JD Halstead,” she replied confidently as she tapped herself on the chest. “Any other questions?” She smiled politely. She got a lot of stares and some mumbling, but before anyone said anything else, a big, white pickup truck tore into the parking lot, whipping up a cloud of dust.
Everyone turned to see who the late-comer was. When the roar of the truck’s engine died, the driver stepped out of the truck while adjusting a dusty, tan cowboy hat over thick, black hair. He strode over to the group with a swagger, wearing a tight, black t-shirt that emphasized his muscular arms and chest, and cargo pants over heavy black work boots. He was obviously used to hard work, by the looks of his well-developed body. JD felt a strange thrill run through her that she quickly shook it off.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Had a run-in with the Deputy, seems I drive too fast for this sleepy little town.” He kept his gaze on her as some of the contractors chuckled, but most ignored him and acted impatiently. There was no logo or other signifying mark on his truck to let her know which company he came from, but she tossed him a packet anyway. He caught it with one hand and smiled at her. It was the kind of smile complete with a dimple in his left cheek that drew her in and held her captivated for a moment, before she remembered herself, and turned her attention back to the crowd.
“Well, come on then. Let me show you all around,” JD told the group. She led them inside and showed them the important things, like where the grand staircase to the second floor would be located, the main floor bath, and where the kitchen would be situated when the two back rooms were demolished. At the mention of demolition, she caught the newcomer’s eye, and he grinned at her. She felt a ticklish warmth blossom in her chest and spread to the rest of her body. JD looked away quickly, momentarily at a loss for words, until someone asked where the mechanical units were going to be situated.
Taking her cue, she identified the Heating and Ventilation Contractor and show him where the basement was going to be dug and the HVAC system installed. JD tried not to overwhelm the contractors with too much detailed information, as all of it was outlined in the bid packages anyway. She could see some were already bored and ready to leave. The man with the cowboy hat was watching her intensely, like he was absorbing and hanging on every word she spoke.
Every time she looked over at him, he flashed a dimpled grin at her. She felt her cheeks flush, and she worried that the others would notice. She wished he would stop smiling at her. It was very distracting, but at the same time, she found herself wanting to be closer to him, hoping he’d ask some question that would require a detailed answer. She cringed as the thought came to her and avoided looking at him altogether for the rest of the meeting.
They completed the walk-through of the first floor in about five minutes. Then JD headed for the makeshift staircase that up to the second floor. The stairs were very creaky and a bit wobbly. She pressed herself against the wall as she made her way up. She could feel the wood slats shift as the contractors filed in behind her.
This was the first time she had seen for herself what was on the second floor. It was just a wide-open space with a simple raised platform at one end. The contractors spread out and explored the place on their own, making their own lists and calculations in preparation for their proposals. Some went over to a window for better light to review the plans or flip through their contracts, which included various forms to fill out, including background checks. Mr. Blackwell expected it, and for his peace of mind, Gramps insisted.
A few minutes later, they returned to the first floor and the contractors started leaving one by one as their particular interests had been addressed. The plumber and HVAC contractors were the last to leave, aside from the cowboy, who wandered around looking closely at the trim, windows, and floor, before he poked his head in one of the two rooms at the back of the building, and then the one next to it. Then he did it again and again.
JD approached him. “What are you doing?” she asked. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged as he slowly retrieved the plans from his bid packet.
“Just checking something,” he drawled, and gave her a half-grin. His beautiful blue eyes flashed at her. She forgot to inhale. He turned and stepped into the closest room, out of her line of sight. She could hear him walk the length of the room and then back again. He emerged, winked at her, and went into the room next door, and walked its length. Curious, she leaned around the door frame to watch him.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“Your measurements don’t add up,” he said as he indicated the room with the papers in his hand. JD blinked dumbly at him and then frowned at the insinuation that there was a mistake with the plans.
“Really?” she said trying to sound civil, but having a hard time keeping the bite out of her tone. Though he was handsome in a rugged way that appealed to her in ways she had never imagined, she was not pleased that he dared suggest she had made a mistake. She had slaved over those plans for four months, poring over each and every detail. There was no way she could have made a mistake. No way. She felt her cheeks heat up as she bit her lips together.
The cowboy only shrugged again and tried a friendly smile on her. “Look, see here,” he said as he leaned in close to her, the hint of his aftershave wafting over her−a light scent of sagebrush and pine. JD tried to focus her attention on the plans he held in front of her as he spoke, but she couldn’t help letting her eyes wander from the plans, to his muscular and tanned biceps and thick forearms that tapered to strong hands – the left hand bearing a tattoo; a small circle the size of a quarter with a six-point star in the middle of it.
JD snapped her attention back to the plans when she realized he had just asked her a question, and she hadn’t been listening. He looked at her expectantly.
JD looked up at him, a flush of heat spread across her cheeks. “Could you repeat your question please?” she said, trying to sound professional and focused.
He smiled indulgently at her, as if he was used to having to repeat himself. “It said fourteen feet wide and sixt
een feet deep, same as the other room next to it. However, the space between your three-foot-wide doors is twenty-nine and a half feet. You’ve got a three-foot discrepancy here,” he explained.
JD leaned forward to look at the plans again. It didn’t make any sense. If there was a discrepancy of three feet with the measurements of just the two rooms, then the dimensions for the other adjoining great room would be affected too.
“Look,” he said, with a grin, “You’ve got a hidden room between those walls.”
A frown creased JD’s brow. Her eyes scanned the plans quickly. How could this be? She refused to believe it, and shook her head, about to protest vehemently, but he spoke before she could open her mouth.
“Come on, I’ll prove it to you,” he said, and motioned for her to follow. JD narrowed her eyes as he unclipped his tape measure from his belt and walked into the closest room. She followed him. He held the end of the tape out to her which she took apprehensively. He walked to the other wall as she backed up to the wall nearest her.
“Sixteen feet,” he called from across the room. Just as the plans stated. He crossed the floor toward her as she let go of the end of the tape. It snapped back into its metal case as he strode past her and out into the hallway. She detected a smug grin on his handsome face. She followed him out into the hallway, and this time, he handed her the case, took the end of the tape and walked the length of the hallway as she watched the numbers run out. Per the plans, the dimension from the inside wall of the first room to the outside wall of the second room read thirty-three feet with another sixty-three feet for the great room. However, the tape stopped at thirty-six feet even. Which meant that the great room was only sixty-one feet wide. JD stared at the number in disbelief. Her plans were wrong. Her thoughts raced back over her calculations. She was sure she had read Rick’s notes right. Rick was the one who had come out here almost six months ago, and walked out the building, noting everything she would need to create the conversion blueprints. Rick even reviewed them twice before they were submitted for approval by the County. This is a disaster, she thought. How could this happen? I was so careful!
Cowboy walked over to her, took the measuring tape from her hand, and pressed the button to retract the metal tape. It flew across the floor with a snap, jerking JD from her momentary shock.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
JD didn’t answer him. She took his tape and handed him the end of it again and pulled the metal case across the great room. The cowboy moved to the exterior wall of the second room and waited.
“The great room is supposed to be sixty-three feet wide,” she called from across the room. But when 63’ rolled past and she saw she had another few feet to walk out, she froze and held her breath. How could this be? The room measured an additional three feet long. It must have been her fault. She wanted her laptop so she could look over the electronic version of the plans and see where the mistake was exactly. It was possible that when she laid out the dimensions, she clicked on the wrong point of the wall section which would have pulled the wrong dimension. She’d have to tell Rick who would have to inform Mr. Blackwell. She’d have to redo the drawings. Who knew what the extra space was. This mistake might affect Rick’s engineering designs. The plans would have to be redone completely, and they’d have to go through the whole approval process again. This would delay everything.
JD’s only consolation was that it might not have been entirely her fault. She had the notes from Rick to prove it. A glimmer of self-preservation began to dawn on her. It could have been that Rick had measured incorrectly when he was out here taking measurements. She began to feel just a bit better, but she couldn’t relax until she figured out what went wrong with the measurements.
Her mind filled with all sorts of excuses as to why there was a mistake. Her heart rate picked up, and she started getting lightheaded. She needed air. She turned away from the cowboy and wobbled, her vision darkening at the edges. He took her arm and steadied her. His touch electrified her and it snapped her back into focus. She sucked in a deep breath, clearing her head.
“Are you all right?” he asked, concern outlining his rugged features. JD pulled away from him.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said curtly. “Who are you?”
“Matthew Rigo. Demolition. Pleased to meet you.” He smiled and offered his hand.
She took it. His hand was rough and calloused, but his grip was firm and warm.
“JD Halstead,” she responded.
“Look,” he started as he shrugged and smiled, “don’t worry so much about it. It doesn’t change the scope of the work. Think of it as a bonus.”
JD withdrew her hand and fixed him with a glare. He had no idea how this revelation had ruined her perfect schedule. She turned away from him and marched outside, thinking furiously about what to do about the extra five feet not accounted for on the plans. How could Rick give her faulty dimensions? Unless, the exterior dimension was three feet longer than what she had on the plans as well. JD stopped in her tracks.
She spun around to face Matthew. “Can I borrow your tape measure?” Matthew went to his truck and returned with a surveyor’s tape, which was much longer than the small tape he had clipped to his belt. She held the reel at the corner of the schoolhouse and Matthew took the line and walked the length of the building. She counted off the numbers quietly. The building was supposed to be hundred feet long according to the plans. With the hidden room, it should be a hundred and three feet long. The reel stopped at hundred feet. She glanced up. Matthew was standing at the corner of the schoolhouse. This can’t be right, she thought. JD dropped the reel at the corner and walked the length of the building to where he was standing just to make sure there wasn’t some extra extension of the schoolhouse, like a back porch or something that Rick hadn’t accounted for. She went to where Matthew was standing and peered around him. He turned to see what she was looking at, but there was nothing more.
“Well?” he asked.
“A hundred feet, just as the plans indicate,” she stated in disbelief.
“Weird.” He shook his head.
“There has to be a mistake somewhere,” she mumbled as she tried to think through the discrepancy. She turned, walked back to her car, and spread the plans on the hood to study them closer. Matthew wound up his reel and dropped it inside his cab before joining her. His presence distracted her and she resisted, strenuously, the urge to glance over at his bare arms, and how tight his t-shirt was across his chest. JD bit her lip and shut her eyes.
“Don’t sweat it,” he said. “Everybody makes mistakes.”
JD’s eyes snapped open, rolling her shoulders back she fixed him with a tight smile. “I didn’t make a mistake on these plans. If there is a mistake, it is someone else’s,” she replied curtly.
“Hey, sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to ruin your day,” he said, holding up his hands. He gave her a cocky grin, tipped his hat, and turned away. JD watched him climb into his truck and drive off. She was alone again with the schoolhouse and a very perplexing problem.
If the house was a hundred feet long, and there was three feet of extra space inside not previously accounted for, shouldn’t the outside then be three feet longer? There had to be a simple reason to explain the miscalculation. She just didn’t know what it could be yet.
To make sure there really was five feet of extra space and Rick hadn’t made an error, JD decided to go back in and measure the entire first floor herself.
With her clipboard and blueprints in hand, she walked off the length of the larger room on the west side of the building, and then the width. It was a rough estimate, but she wasn’t concerned about exactness just yet. Her rough measurements matched what was on the blueprints so far. She smiled to herself. Now for the smaller rooms on the east side. Each room was sixteen feet long add the 6-inch wall between the rooms and another 6-inch wall between the second room and the great room, JD knew the overall length of the hallway should be 33 feet long. She walked off each ro
om−sixteen feet apiece. She returned to the hallway, stood at the corner, and walked the length of the hallway. “Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four…” she paused and looked back at the door opening of the second room. “What in Heaven’s name?” she muttered. She turned around and walked it out again. 36 feet.
Matthew was dead right−there was 3 feet of unaccounted space on the plans.
JD returned to the room at the end of the hallway and went to the wall it shared with the other room. She started knocking on the wall testing it for hollowness. It was an old building that incorporated daub and wattle interior walls, and she wasn’t sure if the wall sounded hollow or not. Knocking high and low across the wall, she hit an area that sounded different. If she’d had a sledgehammer, she would have knocked the wall down herself to see what was behind it right then and there. She continued to rap her knuckles all along the wall trying to determine how wide the area was. It seemed to her the hollow area measured about three feet wide, the width of a door. She took her pencil and made a note on the plans.
Abruptly, the sound of a knock came back. Knock, knock, knock. She froze. Did someone just knock on the wall? Again, the knock came three times. She stepped away from the wall, startled.
There couldn’t possibly be someone behind that wall, she reasoned. Something heavy hit the floor above her. JD gasped, nearly choking on her suddenly accelerated heartbeat. She spun around, lost her grip on the plans, and flew from the room. The papers flapped wildly about like a wounded bird before settling on the floor with a soft whoosh. JD’s rapid footsteps matched the panicked pace of her heartbeats as she dashed to the front door, finding it firmly shut. She grabbed the handle and pulled, but it didn’t budge. JD heard scrabbling noises upstairs, as if something was in a hurry to get her. She kicked at the door and pulled with all her might, but it just wouldn’t budge. Then a thought came to her. Push!
If I Fall... Page 3