If I Fall...

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If I Fall... Page 7

by Jennifer Christy


  They were forced to travel the remainder of the way into town behind the cruiser at below the posted speed limit. JD could tell by Matthew’s posture and how he would rev the engine from time to time that this fully irritated him. To her astonishment, Officer Parker pulled into the parking lot of the General Store and parked at the base of the stairs that led to her apartment. Matthew growled as he pulled in and passed the cruiser, whipping the bike around to face the cruiser; a standoff of some sort based on a premise she was completely ignorant of. It frightened her.

  JD slid off the bike and wrestled the helmet off her head. She handed it to Matthew who took it from her without taking his eyes off the cruiser, glaring with such intensity at Officer Parker that she feared interrupting him with words of farewell. JD stepped away, glancing from the cruiser to Matthew, who suddenly snatched her hand and turned his head ever so slightly, and grinned. “Thanks for coming with me,” he said.

  She nodded as she cast wary glances at the officer and wondered why he was still parked there watching them.

  “Sure,” she replied.

  “I’ll see you Monday,” he said and then let go of her hand. He backed the motorcycle up without taking his eyes off the cruiser. JD walked around the cruiser and glanced at the officer who stared back at her. She climbed the steps to her apartment and entered, but after shutting and bolting the door, she peeked through the window next to the door in time to see Matthew peel away. Officer Parker remained where he was for several moments, engine idling. She couldn’t tell what he was doing, or why he remained.

  ***

  As JD closed the door behind her, Matthew flashed Officer Roy Parker an annoyed look, but the older man only stared back without expression as he said, “You’re walking a thin line, Matthew.”

  Matthew could hear him plainly over the idling engines of both the cruiser and the motorcycle.

  “I know what I’m doing,” Matthew replied evenly, “and I’d appreciate it if you and Nathan would show a little faith.”

  “You have less than a week,” Roy said. Matthew’s eyes narrowed. He revved the engine and pulled away, gunning it when he hit the main road. Wrong, Matthew thought, I will have all eternity.

  Chapter 12

  The first thing JD saw Monday morning when she pulled into the parking lot of the schoolhouse, was a huge, white box the size of a big rig trailer blocking the spot where she had posted signs for the contractors to park their vehicles. She parked her car on the street, walked around the white box, and found the delivery truck driver unhitching the trailer−her rented office trailer.

  “No, no, no,” she called out frantically, hurrying over to him. He looked at her with mild disdain. It was plainly evident that he wasn’t having a good Monday, but she didn’t care. Her carefully laid-out parking plan was ruined if he took off leaving the office trailer where it was.

  “You can’t put it here,” she told him firmly. “It’s blocking the contractors’ parking area. You have to put it over there!” She heard her voice go up an octave. She stopped squeaking at him and pointed firmly to the spot where she wanted it. The delivery man scowled at her and then without a word, started re-hitching the trailer.

  When he was finished, he climbed back into the cab of his rig and called out, “Where you want it then?” as if he hadn’t seen where she’d pointed. JD marched over to the spot at the edge of the grassy field in front of the schoolhouse’s front door on the east side where she had had her picnic the week before. “Right here!” She spread out her arms to indicate the area.

  The truck driver moved the trailer around and backed it into the correct location. As JD watched him go through the whole process of unhitching it a second time, she heard a pickup truck approach and turned to see who it was. A big, white pickup pulled into the parking area.

  Matthew leaned out the window of his truck. “Everything alright?”

  “Just getting settled in,” she responded.

  The sooner the trailer was installed, the sooner she could get to work−well, almost. She still had to wait for the rental furniture to be delivered and the phone and internet to be hooked up. The telecommunications company could only offer dial up, so she had asked for two phone lines, one for the internet and one for the landline. “Wednesday,” they said.

  JD signed for the trailer and when the truck driver drove away, she immediately noticed he had forgotten to install the metal stairs to access the trailer.

  “Wait!” she yelled and started to run after the retreating delivery truck, waving her arms and shouting for him to stop, but to no avail. JD came to a halt halfway across the road and stomped her foot in frustration. She gritted her teeth to resist the urge to scream. Clenching her fists, she jogged back to the trailer to figure out a solution to yet another problem. Matthew was standing next to it, a bemused grin on his face.

  “Forgot the stairs, huh?” he asked with a smirk.

  She rolled her eyes. The floor of the office trailer was four feet off the ground. She automatically reached for her cell phone to call the rental company before she remembered there was no service out here. Carrying her cell phone everywhere she went was going to be a hard habit to break.

  “Yes, but I’ll have that fixed in a bit,” she said briskly. “What about you? What are you starting on?” She was crisp and formal with him, as a project manager should be.

  JD had awarded the contract to him and pretty much everyone else that had showed up at the bid meeting. There were only so many contractors to be found in Wayne County, after all. The ink wasn’t even dry on Matthew’s contract before she felt ill at ease with it, but she couldn’t reason out why she felt that way. Maybe it was because she was falling for him and now he was officially her sub-contractor. It was going to be a long two weeks of demolition while trying to be all business with Matthew.

  Already she was beginning to falter, as he cocked his head to the side, offering her a profile of his strong jaw line, chiseled cheek bones, square chin and thick neck muscles that merged handsomely with his broad shoulders. He reached up and scratched at his chin, his tattooed bicep bulging.

  “I suppose we just start gutting the place,” he said as he looked around casually and then asked, “You got a dumpster around here somewhere?”

  Oh stink! JD dropped her head forward and rubbed at the small headache forming at her left temple. She had forgotten to order the dumpster.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Matthew said lightly. “I’ll just use my truck until you get a dumpster brought in.”

  JD nodded without looking up at him. “Fine, fine,” she muttered, wondering what else could go wrong. She turned and headed to her car. She would be working from her apartment today.

  “Hey,” he called after her. JD stopped and turned halfway toward him. “Don’t you want to see what’s in your secret room? See if ol’ Butch really did hide something in there?” She froze. She had forgotten completely about that over the weekend.

  “I thought I’d start there,” he added.

  “Okay,” she said uncertainly, remembering last week’s mysterious answering knocks to her investigations. She still wasn’t convinced it had been anything other than some vagrant, but a tiny feeling inside suggested it was something else entirely.

  She walked back toward the schoolhouse as Matthew loped over to his truck. He grabbed a hardhat out of the cab and a huge sledgehammer from the back which he swung up to rest on his shoulder.

  For a moment, with the sun shining on his face, framed against the green field to the east, he looked like a warrior from a Greek or Roman myth. She caught herself gawking at him, her heart kicking up a bit as warmth flooded through her and made her knees feel wobbly. She quickly dismissed her physical reaction and attributed it to a skipped breakfast this morning due to the anxiety of this being the first day of the actual renovation. She watched him approach, taking in his long, easy swagger, and the way his biceps rippled as he balanced the massive hammer across his shoulders.

  At the s
choolhouse threshold, he turned and stopped her. “Your hardhat?” he asked, motioning to her head.

  “I left it at my apartment,” she said regretfully. Her hardhat and her work boots, but she hadn’t planned to go inside the schoolhouse today, or else she would have brought them. Matthew set his sledgehammer against the doorframe and trotted back to his truck. He returned with a dented, yellow hard hat and a pair of safety goggles. He waited for her to put on the safety gear.

  JD slid on the goggles and looked at the hardhat dubiously before setting it on her head. The strap on the back interfered with her hair bun, and no matter how she tried to arrange it, the hardhat wouldn’t sit comfortably on her head.

  Matthew stepped forward, took the hat from her with one hand, reached around, and pulled the pin from her hair bun, letting her copper locks fall about her shoulders. She gaped at his boldness. With a pleased look on his face, he carefully set the hardhat back on her head. He smiled with a wink and turned away.

  She reached back and scooped up her hair, twisted it and tucked it under her jacket collar. She disliked having her hair loose while on the job. It didn’t look professional and called too much attention to the fact that she was a woman−not that she wasn’t proud to be a woman. She just didn’t want her femininity to be a distraction. Although, Matthew’s manliness was certainly distracting her. It’s not fair, she thought as she followed him into the back room, hardly able to keep her eyes off his back pockets.

  “How about you take the first swing,” he suggested, when the entered the first room, holding the sledgehammer out to her with one hand.

  JD felt a thrill ripple through her as she reached for the sledgehammer with her right hand, pleased with the notion that she would be the one to officially start the renovation of this beautiful schoolhouse by busting a hole into a wall that was nearly a hundred years old.

  As Matthew released his grip, letting the full weight of the sledgehammer, she realized it was a lot heavier than she had anticipated. She quickly grabbed it with her other hand before it crashed to the floor. Matthew swiftly caught it the end of it and chuckled as he stepped around to stand behind her, moving his arms to encircle her.

  “Here,” he said, “mind if I…?” he left the question hanging. JD realized he was waiting for her permission to touch her. A strange thrill shot through her. She could feel his breath on her neck, sense his body next to her, and his arms to either side of her. She felt a guilty sense of longing for him to wrap those massive arms around her.

  “Sure,” she said before she knew what she was saying. He stepped closer, wrapping his large hands over hers, and guided them into position on the handle.

  “Grab it like this so you can get the most momentum and power when you swing it,” he instructed. She felt her breath seize as he lingered with his arms around her, his mouth close to her ear. She felt so small in his embrace. Her skin vibrated where it came into contact with his body. He pulled the sledgehammer to one side and let it swing forward gently, showing her the angle to strike with.

  “Hold tight,” he whispered, letting his hands trail up her arms.

  “I got it,” she said breathlessly, her heart beating double time. Matthew chuckled as if he knew what his close proximity was doing to her. He stepped away.

  JD took a step closer to the wall, aiming for where she had discovered the hollow part and where the knock had sounded. She steadied herself and drew a deep breath, comforted that Matthew was standing nearby in case something jumped out once she knocked a hole in the wall.

  She gripped the hammer, swung it back, and then forward with all her might. The sudden impact reverberated up the handle of the sledgehammer and rattled her teeth. It was like hitting concrete. The head of the hammer smashed into the wall and got stuck. She couldn’t wrench it free.

  “Wow,” he smiled at her appreciatively. “Great job. Here let me help,” Matthew stepped up, and with one hand, grasped the handle, and yanked it free. The hole she had created wasn’t very big. But it was a start. He offered her the sledgehammer again.

  JD shook her head, “Thanks. I think that’s all I want to do,” she said demurely, backing away.

  Leaning the sledgehammer against his leg, Matthew accepted the goggles she handed him. Then he hefted the sledgehammer with both hands, positioned himself in front of the wall, and turned his head toward her.

  “Keep clear. I swing pretty hard,” he said and then turned toward the wall, sized it up, and rolled his shoulders. She hurriedly crossed to the other side of the room and put her back against the wall. Matthew swung the hammer back and then slammed it against the wall. There was a resounding crack. The concussion of the sledgehammer reverberated throughout the room to the wall she was leaning against. She quickly ducked her head to avoid bits of plaster and wood that rocketed in all directions.

  Matthew lifted the hammer again and with a grunt, smashed it solidly again into the growing black hole she had started. He worked with a rhythm that quickly tore through the wall. He stopped after several minutes and investigated the hole. Then he motioned her over.

  She stepped cautiously toward him, envisioning a room with bags of stolen gold spilled across the floor, or the wretched remains of someone who had been locked inside. The last thing she expected to find was another wall made of very dark wood which appeared to have carvings all over it. But it was difficult to tell what the carvings were with the plaster stuck on it.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Matthew said and ran his gloved fingers over the carvings. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, looking at her. It was obviously very old and very beautifully carved.

  “Let’s save it if we can,” she told him. “I don’t think it’s very wide. When I knocked on the wall last week, it only seemed to be about three feet wide, like a door. Just start over here and let’s see if it really is a door.”

  Matthew gave her a disbelieving look. For a moment, she thought he was going to refuse her request. He grinned slowly and went back to work bashing away the rest of the wall, careful not to hit the wooden object.

  The daub and wattle was solid and did not crumble away as easily as it had over the carvings. The shock of each impact was deafening, and her ears started to throb. Long moments passed before Matthew staggered away from the wall, his back and underarms drenched in perspiration. He swiped at his forehead, which was streaked with sweat and white plaster dust.

  Taking one more swing at the wall, he punched right through it. A gust of frigid wind whistled out, as if a winter storm was contained inside. Not only was the air biting cold, but the smell that wafted out with it was rank, stale, and full of dust. JD whirled about away from the wall and shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself to protect her face. Matthew threw an arm over his face and backed away. When the wind died down, the heavier bits of cobweb, dust balls, and plaster bits settled to the floor.

  Matthew called her over to the hole again. Together they crowded around the hole and peered inside. The air inside was cold and dry. JD’s skin bumped up as she leaned closer and wrinkled her nose against the dust that was still settling around them.

  “Step back,” Matthew said with a hint of urgency. Matthew pulled a pocket flashlight out of his jeans and clicked it on, nudging her out of the way so he could lean in and have a look.

  “It must be a door to this room,” she whispered in awe. She stepped closer to peer around him but couldn’t see much at all, which was alarming. When Matthew’s flashlight swept over where the floor should have been there was nothing but blackness that seemed to plunge forever into oblivion.

  “Where’s the floor?” JD asked, alarmed.

  “Huh,” he grunted and leaned back. “Careful, it might be just a deep hole. But that’s no door,” he informed her. She could tell from where she stood that the object seemed rather thick, probably 6 inches or so, but when she stepped closer with the flashlight, she could see that the box was about three feet thick.

  “What is it?” JD asked, unable to compre
hend the purpose of the structure hidden between the walls.

  “A box would be my guess,” Matthew said taking the flashlight.

  “A box?” JD frowned in confusion while she mentally calculated its dimensions.

  Matthew brushed away more of the plaster. “I can’t think of what else it could be. Can you?”

  JD shrugged. “No. But it’s rather tall, nearly ten feet, I would guess. What an odd box, it’s more like a coffin, don’t you think?” She gave Matthew a wary look. “Do you think maybe it’s a coffin?”

  “Standing upright?”

  “Oh. Probably not, but it looks old. Maybe older than this building,” JD mused.

  Matthew gave her an exasperated look. “Who cares? What’s important is what’s inside the box.”

  “Do you think there’s gold inside?” JD asked, wide-eyed.

  “Maybe,” Matthew said.

  “Well, maybe we should open it right now, don’t you think?” she asked.

  “No,” he said quickly. “Look, for all we know it’s structurally important and I don’t dare mess with it until I get the upper floor demolished. Once that’s gone, I’ll have a better idea of how to open it.”

  “Oh,” JD said. She hadn’t considered that at all and it seemed to make perfect sense.

  “I’m just going to throw a tarp over the opening and save this for last. This may take a little longer than the eight days I promised you.” He looked at her apologetically.

  “How much longer?”

  “An extra two days.”

  She closed her eyes. The actual renovation was less than an hour old and already she had to use two of her fourteen contingency days. “Fine,” she sighed. She reached out to touch the surface of the box, but Matthew caught her hand before she could make contact.

 

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