Premeditated Mortar

by Kate Carlisle

  “Good point,” he said, swiping at his tablet screen. “I can set up a spreadsheet, lay out all the guys’ names and the different jobs and we can play with it, figure it all out tomorrow.”

  “The spreadsheet king rocks,” Carla teased.

  “Okay, king,” I said. “This is in your hands. Now, I want both of your opinions on something.”

  “What’s up, boss?” Wade asked.

  “It’s just a personal thing, but I would love to be able to take the protective film off some of the windows. You’ve noticed it can get really dark in parts of this building, right?”

  “We’d be taking a chance on damaging the glass,” Carla said with a frown.

  “That’s the downside,” I agreed. “But we can always replace the glass.”

  Wade narrowed his eyes. “You afraid we’ll all get depressed from not seeing the sunshine?”

  “Yeah, that seasonal depression thing,” Carla said.

  “Seasonal affective disorder.” I smiled and shook my head at her. “It’s not really about that specifically since we’re heading into spring. But I just think the view is so spectacular from up here.”

  Carla raised one eyebrow. “So this is more about enjoying the view than actually lighting up the place.”

  I gave her a meaningful look. “I know you’re just teasing me.”

  “Of course I am,” she said with a grin.

  “Okay, good,” I said. “I’m thinking that we should uncover all the windows and when we get to the point where we’re spackling and painting, we hang tarps over the windows to protect them.”

  “We would have to mask off the window frames anyway, so hanging tarps is probably a good idea.”

  “You guys are both right,” Carla said. “And with the natural light coming in, we’ll be better able to judge paint colors and trim.”

  “There you go,” I said, smiling at her.

  “And then you’ll be able to see the ocean,” Wade said. “And the blue skies, the clouds, the coastline, and the surfers.”

  “Wait, there are surfers?” Carla said.

  “Yeah.” I smiled. “Who doesn’t like surfers?”

  Wade opened his tablet. “Okay, I’m writing all this down. Just to be clear, we’ve agreed to take the protective film off the windows and if we damage a window, we buy it. But even with the natural light, we should probably rent or buy a dozen more light trees to brighten up the darker spots we’ll be working in.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “We’ll need them all year for this job.”

  Carla nodded. “And we’ll be able to use them on other jobs, too.”

  Our impromptu meeting broke up and I found myself wandering the building on my own, noting more trouble spots. The wood paneling along the staircase would need to be sanded down and refinished. I put Amanda’s name next to that item. She was our expert when it came to anything wood-related. I retraced my steps going back toward the foyer, then thought about working by myself in Jane’s future reception office. But when I reached the doorway, I thought again about that back hall.

  Niall wouldn’t be here for a while so I didn’t dare check out that brick wall and the hidden antechamber on my own. But I wanted to.

  I glanced at my wristwatch and saw that I still had an hour to wait before Niall got here. “Patience, girl,” I muttered, taking a deep breath. I headed for the reception space when I saw a woman hurrying down the hall toward the main stairway. She wore jeans, work boots, and a black hoodie. She passed the stairway and stopped at the door to the passageway under the stairs. I didn’t recognize her. Or him, I added. It could be a short, thin man. Like Orange Cap, I thought, scowling.

  “Hello?” I called. “Wait.” She didn’t hear me—or she ignored me because she ducked into the passageway and disappeared.

  “What the heck?” I took off down the hall. This was my job site and I insisted on knowing everyone who was working here. It wasn’t just me being nosy. There were liability issues involved. But yeah, sometimes I was just plain nosy.

  I picked up speed and made it to the passageway in less than ten seconds. I pulled the door open and walked through the dark to the second door. Pushing it open, I stepped into the carpeted hallway, making sure the door didn’t shut behind me.

  And didn’t see another person.

  “Hello?” I called again.

  Nothing.

  I stared down the hall and counted eight doors—all closed—on the wall opposite the crumbling brick wall. Whoever had just walked in here had to have gone into one of those rooms. How else could they have disappeared so quickly?

  But was I really going to try to search each of those rooms by myself? Absolutely not. But I knew without a doubt that the stranger who came this way was hiding behind one of those doors. Where else would they be? I would simply have to wait for Niall before I took off searching on my own.

  I thought that was a pretty grown-up decision on my part and mentally patted my back.

  I started to head back to the passageway but stopped at the three-foot-high brick wall for a moment. It wasn’t as if I were going to throw myself over that wall. Mainly because Jane would have a fit, but also because I didn’t want to go near that pile of bricks until I had someone—Niall, Jane, or maybe Mac—with me. And I wasn’t going to climb any ladders, either. So I was safe. Everything would be fine.

  Now that I had won my own argument, I stared around the hallway. Everything was exactly where we’d left it last night. The ladder was on the floor leaning against the wall, the light tree was still nearby, and the piles of bricks were, well, everywhere.

  I didn’t know what I had expected, but there was much more of a mess than I’d thought there would be. I suppose after the mishap last night we had walked out of here without cleaning up. That rarely happened. My crew and I always straightened things up at the end of the day.

  I pulled the light tree over and turned it on, then stared at what was left of the wall. Not even three feet, I thought. The bricks barely came up to my knees so it was more like two feet.

  Taking a step closer, I gazed down at the large pile of bricks scattered on the other side of the wall. It looked like a small mountain. Niall and his two helpers would need a few days to clear these away, I thought, and decided I would line up two more guys to help him out.

  I stepped back and gazed up at the few remaining rows of bricks closest to the ceiling. I realized that this was where the top edge of my ladder had caught, thank God. And that had probably saved my life. I shuddered briefly at the realization.

  “How in the world did this wall collapse?” I wondered aloud for the hundredth time. I reached down and gave the two-foot wall a quick shove. It didn’t budge. I tried it again and it remained firm. So how had those middle rows of bricks collapsed so completely?

  I had worked in construction long enough to know the answer. The bricks and mortar in this new section had been stacked in one thin column with nothing to hold them erect and keep them stable. When the mortar began to deteriorate, as it had after so many years of neglect, the wall had come tumbling down with almost no effort.

  I stared again into the antechamber and all those bricks. This area had been closed off by a brick wall for so many years and I wondered again . . . why?

  Why had this section been bricked up and hidden from the world?

  Naturally I first thought of Jane’s theory, that this was where they had hidden the bodies. Here in the light of day the thought made me smile, remembering how tickled Jane had been by the idea. But off the top of my head I could come up with several other innocent reasons, such as the possibility that there was unfinished construction behind that door that could be dangerous to patients. Or maybe that part of the building was no longer up to code. Either the stairs were too steep, for instance, or the doors were too narrow. Maybe that was where they stored old hospital equipment tha
t was rusted or broken and could hurt someone.

  I shivered and wondered where the sudden draft of air had come from. I turned to look toward the passageway and saw that the door I’d come through was closed now. Did the wind do that?

  I heard a quick intake of breath behind me.

  “What the—”

  Before I could finish the thought, I was shoved forward with alarming brute force and fell headfirst into the abyss.

  * * *

  * * *

  I woke up to hammers pounding in my head and a giant table saw buzzing in my ears. My cheek was pressed up against something rough and hard and I knew I had scraped it badly. Was it bleeding? Was anything broken? All I knew was that I ached all over, especially the top of my head, and I realized that I must’ve hit it hard. And that scared me. I knew I had passed out. But I was alive. Good news.

  My head was still foggy so it took me a few more seconds of blinking and trying to see in front of me before I could remember where I was and how I got here. Someone had pushed me, hard, over the wall. I had landed on a pile of bricks, the very thing I had been so worried about last night.

  Was the pusher still here? Was it the woman in the black hoodie? Who else could it be? At this moment was she waiting for me to get up so she could hurt me even worse?

  Just in case she—or he?—was still nearby waiting and watching me, I remained perfectly still. It wasn’t too hard to do since I could barely move. I was lying at an awkward angle on the bricks, with my head near the bottom of the pile and my feet farther up. The downward angle worried me because if enough blood rushed to my head, it might cause me to faint.

  I shook that unpleasant thought away and silently surveyed each part of my body, taking stock of any pain or injuries. Especially injuries. I could live with the pain, but I dreaded being badly injured.

  I started with my toes. I could move them, so at least I wasn’t paralyzed. I almost cried in relief. Then I tried to flex the muscles in my legs. Good to go, but I could feel my knees stinging and figured I had scraped them on the top of the brick wall.

  My hips were okay. I hadn’t landed on my back so that was a good thing. My stomach felt empty and I realized I was hungry. It made me wonder how long I had been unconscious.

  My arms and fingers were still working, hallelujah. My shoulders and my neck were okay. My head was pounding, but I looked on the bright side: it meant I was alive.

  Whoever had pushed me hadn’t killed me. Had that been their plan? If so, they had failed. It gave me a chill to realize that they were obviously insane, whoever they were. Why would any normal person do that?

  I waited another few minutes until I thought I might be alone. I couldn’t hear anything now, but then, I hadn’t heard anything earlier—except that quick intake of breath just before the push. Whoever it was that had tried to hurt me—kill me?—had moved with the stillness of a sylph.

  I tried to push myself up and that was when I felt the pain rush from my hands and wrists all the way up to my shoulders. I slowly collapsed, taking care to avoid having my head hit the bricks. Again. This was crazy, but I couldn’t gather enough strength to raise myself up from this stupid brick heap. I was sprawled upside down and too weak to move. It was sad, but I knew I was going to need some help.

  Once I made my decision, it took another few minutes to get myself into a position where I could pull my cell phone out of my vest pocket. Exhausted, I took another long minute to maneuver it in front of my face. The first thing I saw was the time of day and realized I had been completely out of it for at least five minutes. That couldn’t be good. But I’d been awake and conscious for a while now, just trying to figure out how to get out of here, so that was something. Still, I kind of figured I was lucky to be alive.

  I awkwardly pressed Mac’s number and waited.

  His face appeared on the screen and I realized too late that I had hit video. Big mistake.

  “Shannon.” He smiled. He was so handsome, I wanted to curl up in his arms and stay there forever.

  “Hi.” I tried to smile, tried to look normal, but knew I was blowing it.

  His smile faded and his eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Can you . . . help me?” It was hard to get the words out. Maybe my mind was more scrambled than I thought.

  “Where are you?” he demanded.

  “I’m . . . at work. Gables. The back hallway . . . where we were last night.”

  “Oh, hell.”

  “I’m . . . okay. But if you could just . . . come soon.”

  “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

  * * *

  * * *

  I stayed where I was, mainly because it was too painful to move. I knew I hadn’t broken anything, but I was stiff and aching and had landed on a steep brick incline with my head facing downward. It was mortifying. Or it would be as soon as Mac got here.

  I had time to think about my position. With everything hurting and my muscles aching, it would be hard enough to push up from a flat surface. But sprawled at this weird angle, it was impossible. Gravity was not my friend.

  It even hurt to think too much, but I wanted to. I had to figure out who had done this to me. Someone had deliberately tried to hurt me. Someone vicious and disturbed. I wasn’t ready to deal with that cold reality just now, but I would, and soon. For now, I closed my eyes and waited for Mac.

  He didn’t make me wait long. It was less than ten minutes when I heard the sound of someone running toward the area.

  “Shannon!” Mac shouted, and I had a little moment of déjà vu. It was just like he had shouted my name last night.

  “In here,” I said, but I wasn’t sure my voice carried.

  “Oh my God,” he whispered.

  “How’d you get here so fast?”

  “I was already in my car on my way here.”

  “Lucky me.”

  He frowned. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “I’ll be okay. I just need some help getting out of here.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “It’s just . . . a little awkward, trying to get up.”

  “Is she here?” a woman cried out.

  I groaned out loud. That was Jane. She was going to kill me.

  “Tell her I’m not here,” I muttered.

  Mac laughed. “Sorry, babe. You’ll have to tell her that yourself.”

  “Damn it,” I grumbled.

  “Shannon! Oh my God, she’s not moving.” She sobbed. “Is she alive?”

  “Of course I’m alive,” I groused.

  “Good,” Jane said. “Because I’m going to kill you.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  Chapter Nine

  Getting me out of that stupid pit of bricks was harder than any of us thought it would be. It was because of the way I was positioned—basically, upside down—that made it tricky. I’m no petite flower like my friend Lizzie, but I’m in really good shape and my arms are especially strong. And yet I couldn’t push myself up from this angle and it was darn frustrating. I felt like an idiot.

  Mac finally solved the problem by climbing over the wall and scrambling down the mountain of bricks like a seasoned rock climber—which he probably was. He caused a few tiny brick avalanches, but made it down far enough that he was able to plant his feet near my head. Bracing himself, he leaned over and slipped his arms under my shoulders, then lifted me up as though I were lighter than air. He hefted me over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and carefully hiked up the brick pile until he reached the wall.

  “I’ll take her,” Niall said, reaching out. “Then when you’re over the wall, I’ll hand her back to you.”

  I said nothing, just let them work it out. I was simply relieved to have escaped from Brick Mountain.

  Mac was strong and tough, but Niall was huge, with muscl
es on top of muscles. He’d spent his youth playing rugby and tossing cabers with his mates. Caber tossing was a true Scottish sport, somewhat akin to tossing a telephone pole as far as it would go. Happily, this meant that I presented no challenge to him at all. He held me as though I were no more than a chip off one of those wooden cabers he knew so well.

  When Mac was out of the antechamber and back on solid ground, Niall carefully passed me back to him. In Mac’s arms, I felt warm and loved. I pressed my face to his shirt and inhaled him. The man smelled so good, so manly, so . . . mmm.

  My head was starting to spin and it wasn’t strictly from Mac’s closeness. It was possibly from lying upside down all that time.

  “She’s bleeding,” Jane said in an accusing tone.

  Mac gently touched my cheek. “You’re bleeding, Red.”

  “Am I? I guess so. And I’ll be black and blue in a few places, too.”

  “Just a few?” Jane asked, then fumed. “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of there until Niall came back?”

  I tried to scowl but my face hurt too much. “I didn’t go in there on purpose. I’m not a complete idiot, even though I looked like one a minute ago. Someone pushed me.”

  “What?” Mac almost hissed the word.

  “Who pushed you?” Jane cried. “How?”

  “I don’t know.” I rubbed my forehead. “I saw someone come into this hallway so I followed her. Or him.”

  “Why?” Jane demanded.

  “Because I didn’t recognize them. I should know everyone working here. And they didn’t stop when I called out to them.”

  “She has a point,” Mac murmured.

  “Anyway, I came down here and didn’t see anyone.” I touched the top of my head, knowing I couldn’t carry on a conversation much longer. “I looked at the bricks, felt a slight draft. Hard to describe, but it was like a waft of air. And then I heard someone behind me take a quick breath. And the next thing I knew, someone pushed me really hard and I went flying over the wall.”

  “I’m taking you to the hospital,” Mac said.