Courting Disaster

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  “That guy is the rudest and most condescending man I’ve ever met. What’s more, he’s conceited.”

  “He knows his faults. He’s working on them. Besides,” Cadi said, “I can think of worse rude and condescending men.” Frank Parker’s swarthy image flitted across her mind.

  “You know, Meg, I’ve come to realize I didn’t give things between Darrell and me a chance. Darrell and I talked on the phone several times this week, and I decided to actually work at our relationship now. Maybe my influence will somehow make Darrell a better person. He said I’m like a reality check for him.”

  Meg didn’t seem swayed in the least. “You’re making a huge mistake, but it’s your life.”

  Cadi didn’t appreciate how Meg dismissed the subject so quickly. On the other hand, they’d had this discussion before and Meg never had cared for Darrell.

  “Let me ask you this,” Meg blurted. “Does he make your knees weak and your heart sing?”

  Again, the image of Frank Parker loomed in Cadi’s memory. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t trust emotions when making important decisions about a relationship. Emotions can be totally deceiving.”

  “Maybe, but when my knees get weak and my heart sings, I’ll know I’ve met the man of my dreams.”

  “Well, just to warn you, every warm and fuzzy emotion went off while I was near that deputy last weekend, and he was the meanest person I’ve encountered in a very long while.”

  “So you admit your attraction to him, eh?” Meg turned in her seat despite the seat belt across her slim body. “Is that why you’re getting back together with Darrell? You’re fighting your feelings for Deputy Parker?”

  “No and no.” Cadi regretted her sudden harsh tone. She softened it at once. “I mean, of course I’m not.”

  “Look, I’m the first to agree that last weekend was full of unfortunate experiences for you, but I don’t think the guy is, as you say, ‘mean.’ I think there’s a lot of misunderstanding going around.” Meg paused. “While you were out playing ball with the kids last Sunday, Pastor Dremond told us about that bogus charity organization that came to Wind Lake a few years ago.”

  “What are you talking about? What bogus charity organi-zation?” Cadi ran a hand through her hair after stopping for a red light.

  “You mean you don’t know? I assumed Pastor Dremond told you long before he ever mentioned those creeps to us.”

  “No, this is the first time I’m hearing about it.”

  “Well, apparently several men said they were in town to help after a bad storm, but they looted damaged property and stole jewelry and other valuables. In short, they were a bunch of thieves.”

  “Hmm.” Things started making sense to Cadi. “No wonder Sergeant Parker distrusted us from the start.” She shook her head. “Why weren’t we told about this?”

  Meg rotated her shoulders in uncertainty. “I thought you knew about it already, and I guess no one else in Wind Lake was suspicious of us except for Frank. While he was outside playing ball with you and the boys, Will told Pastor Desmond about Frank’s interrogating you. That’s when the pastor told us about the fake charity group.” Her tone of voice softened. “He also said Frank’s been through a lot these past few years.”

  Cadi refused to feel sorry for the guy. “I’m sure he has, but that fact doesn’t excuse bad behavior.”

  “I agree, but—”

  Cadi didn’t want to hear any “buts.” She wanted to forget about it—and about Frank Parker.

  She glanced at her watch as the light turned green. “I’ve got to hurry and drop you off and get home so I can shower and change. Darrell is taking me to his older brother’s thirtieth birthday party tonight. He’s picking me up at six. I’m going to have to hurry.”

  Cadi watched as her best friend folded her arms across her chest and pressed her lips together in taut disapproval. What’s more, Meg didn’t utter another word the rest of the way to her apartment.

  Ten

  Balloons of every color streamed from the ceiling along with a banner that read Over the Hill. Cadi thought the black-lettered proclamation was premature for Darrell’s older brother; however, she agreed that turning thirty was a benchmark in a person’s life, and she couldn’t help wondering where she’d be in five years. Would she be married? Have children?

  She smoothed down the multicolored challis split skirt she wore beneath a matching top. She chanced a look at Darrell, who stood beside her, polished and suave from the top of his honey-colored hair to the tips of his expensive leather loafers. Again she wondered what her life would be like in the future, and suddenly, she couldn’t quite imagine herself married and sipping her morning coffee with him.

  He smiled down at her, and Cadi pushed out a grin before glancing around the crowded living room. People were talking and laughing, having a good time. She, too, had enjoyed talking to different folks for most of the night, and she’d sung choruses of “Happy Birthday to You” with them, filling the entire ranch-style home with merriment.

  “Having fun?” Darrell moved closer and slipped his arm around her waist. Cadi tensed. Why did his touch feel unwelcome? All evening she’d thought about what Meg said earlier, and she wished her knees would weaken and her heart would “sing” whenever Darrell was near. Instead, Cadi’s heart seemed to recoil.

  Lord, what’s wrong with me?

  Cadi immediately sensed her heavenly Father’s reply. Had she prayed about getting back together with Darrell? No. So what was she trying to prove? That she wasn’t a sap for a certain sheriff’s deputy who’d rather see her in jail than on the other side of the table from him in an upscale Italian restaurant?

  Practical. Love is practical, she reminded herself.

  She turned and regarded Darrell once more, but this time she caught him staring off in the distance. She traced his line of vision across the room to a petite blond in a slinky black dress. The woman’s long hair hung to her waist.

  Cadi cleared her throat and nudged him with her elbow.

  Darrell looked down at her. “You should grow your hair long,” he muttered after flashing the other woman a cosmo-politan smile.

  A myriad of emotions filled Cadi’s heart, the foremost being irritation. “I should, huh? You don’t like my hair?”

  “Oh, listen, I didn’t mean anything by it. Let’s not argue. We’ve just gotten through all that other nonsense.”

  “Nonsense?” Cadi tipped her head expectantly. “What nonsense?”

  He gave her a patronizing grin. “All our broken dates because of your business.”

  “Are you blaming me?” Cadi felt her face begin to flame. “Darrell, for your information—”

  “Shh.” He kissed the side of her head, and Cadi resisted the urge to slap him away. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  Cadi bristled, and the overwhelming notion that recon-ciliation with Darrell was an impossibility filled her being. The man of her dreams wouldn’t want to make her something she wasn’t.

  Grow my hair long. Yeah, right, she fumed.

  She watched as Darrell stood ogling the blond across the room. The man of her dreams wouldn’t have roving eyes, either!

  Although she’d vowed to give their relationship a second chance, she never said she’d change her appearance for him simply because he admired a certain feature on another woman. Truth be told, his wandering gaze wasn’t exactly a new practice. But when she’d agreed to work at their relationship, Darrell had promised to kiss his playboy ways good-bye forever.

  So much for Darrell keeping his end of the bargain.

  Meg was right. I should have listened. What was I thinking?

  A sense of betrayal gripped her. Disgusted, she shrugged out of Darrell’s hold. She felt the need to get away from him, so she strolled over to a group of young women chatting by the porch door.r />
  Keep calm, she told herself. Darrell and I can discuss this matter in private.

  She recognized Liza Redelli from church and sat down in the maple dining room chair beside her. Out of the corner of her eye, Cadi watched Darrell head for the shapely blond.

  In that moment, Cadi knew without a doubt that she and Darrell would never be a couple.

  “Hi, Cadi.” Liza turned her way. “Good to see you. What’s new?”

  Cadi swallowed her emotions.

  “Hi, Liza.” They conversed for a few minutes and, before long, Cadi was overcome by a fierce determination to find another ride home. She’d come with Darrell, but there would be blizzards in Bermuda before she climbed into his sports car tonight and allowed him to behave as if nothing had happened again.

  She glanced his way, and as if in affirmation, she spied him and the other woman steeped in what appeared to be an intimate chat. Chances were he’d never know Cadi even left the party.

  “Liza, I need a ride home,” she blurted. “Can you give me a lift?”

  Liza shook her head, and her nut brown hair brushed against her plump shoulders. “I came with three other people in a compact car. There’s no room for one more.”

  “Okay. I understand. Thanks anyway.” Cadi weighed her options.

  “I’ll give you a lift home.”

  The voice caused Cadi to turn in her chair. There, behind her, stood Ross Hinshaw. A heavyset guy with nondescript brown hair and acne lesions on his chin, it appeared Ross hadn’t changed a lot physically since Cadi last saw him. She’d gone to high school with him, and although he wasn’t a Christian back then, she remembered him as a nice enough guy.

  “I’m actually leaving in a few minutes,” he said. “Let me just tell my buddy. He’s going to another party after this one.”

  “Great. Thanks.” She gave him a smile, noticing a slight dip in his gait as he walked away. She wondered if he had knee problems or perhaps a bad back.

  In either case, Cadi just felt grateful for the ride home.

  He returned a few minutes later, and they walked outside to his shiny black pickup.

  “Didn’t you come here tonight with Darrell Barclay?” Ross asked as he put the transmission into gear.

  “Yes, but—well, it was a mistake. That’s all I can say about the situation.”

  “Oh yeah? His loss might be my gain.” Ross chuckled.

  Cadi gave him a curious glance and noticed his lopsided grin as they drove under the glow of a streetlight. The comment made her nervous, but she brushed it off by telling herself Ross meant it as a backhanded compliment, nothing more.

  “You still live in that old Victorian house on Daisy Drive?”

  “Yes. With my aunt. You’ve got a good memory.”

  “Yeah, well, my folks still live about half a mile from there.”

  Cadi recalled the general vicinity of the neighborhood in which Ross grew up. “I hope you don’t have to drive too far out of your way.”

  “Naw, it’s okay.”

  “I appreciate the ride home.” She chose her words with care so as not to encourage him in any way. “What have you been doing since graduation from high school? Did you go to college?”

  “Some.”

  As Ross started talking, Cadi noticed something odd about the way he pronounced many of his words. He didn’t exactly slur them, but Cadi had the impression something wasn’t right.

  “Are you feeling okay?” she asked as Ross pulled onto the expressway.

  “I’m fine.” He cracked his window then turned up the vehicle’s stereo system. Heavy metal music filled the truck’s cab.

  Ross lit a cigarette, and Cadi wondered if she wouldn’t have been better off going home with Darrell—even with his wandering eyes and flirty ways.

  “What about you? What do you do for a living? I heard you were a nurse or something.”

  “An EMT. Emergency medical technician.” Cadi had to practically shout over the blaring noise. Worse, the vulgar lyrics pulsing from the stereo made her cringe. “Can we turn this down a little?”

  “Sure.” Ross obliged.

  Cadi expelled a breath of relief.

  “Where you working?”

  She began explaining about her business, Disaster Busters, how it functioned, and her position, but soon she realized that Ross was driving at an increasingly excessive speed. They’d turned off the expressway and were traveling a remote stretch of highway that led into Waterloo.

  The truck’s tires squealed as the vehicle rounded a curve.

  Stay calm. Twenty minutes, tops, and I’ll be home, Cadi thought in an attempt to placate herself. Then, several miles later, she saw the familiar bend in the road.

  “Hey, Ross, you might want to slow down. I see Suicide Hill up ahead.”

  “Suicide Hill.” He laughed and lit another cigarette. “It’s not dangerous. I’ve driven this road a million times. Relax. I’m in control.” He turned and grinned at her.

  “But. . .you’re going way too fast!”

  Just as Cadi finished the last syllable, the truck went onto the shoulder. Dirt and gravel pelted the vehicle’s underbody. Ross snapped to attention and yanked on the steering wheel, making a sharp left. His correction sent the truck careening over the centerline. Headlights from an oncoming car flashed through the windshield.

  “Ross, watch out!” Cadi screamed.

  He fought for control as the truck fishtailed. Again the tires screeched beneath them. Then another jerk on the wheel and the truck sailed down a hill. It sped across a yard before slamming head-on into a wooden stockade fence. The air bag in front of Cadi deployed on impact, ramming into her chest and face, stealing her breath away.

  She gasped for air and battled to inhale. Then, before she could utter a prayer, she submerged into total darkness.

  ❧

  “What do we have here, Marty?” Using his Maglite, Frank surveyed the crash scene from the side of the road.

  “Other than the obvious, I’m not sure yet,” the other officer replied. “A passerby made the 911 call. Fire truck and ambulance are on the way.”

  “Victims? Survivors?”

  “Like I said, I don’t know. I just arrived on the scene myself.”

  Muted moans of distress in the near distance spurred Frank and his colleague down the hill.

  “Careful. There might be downed wires, Marty.”

  “I’ll keep a lookout for ’em.”

  Following the tire tracks into the undeveloped acreage, they stumbled upon a man lying prostrate on the damp ground, groaning in agony.

  Marty bent to assist him.

  Frank continued his survey of the area. “Anyone else in the truck?” he asked the injured man.

  “Yeah, but I think she’s dead. And—and she was driving. It wasn’t me. She was driving.”

  Frank set off toward the mangled pickup. He mentally braced himself for the sight he might find. He’d seen it before, and it wasn’t pretty. Never was.

  A patch of brightly colored fabric caught his eye, and several strides later, he found a woman heaped on the ground near the rear of the truck. Her position, closer to the passenger side than the driver’s, raised questions in his mind about who had really been at the wheel when the truck crashed.

  Arias of sirens from oncoming emergency vehicles sang in the distance. Meanwhile, Frank hunkered down beside the female and found a pulse.

  Good news.

  He searched her swollen, bloodied face and red-stained blond hair. A slow recognition seeped its way into his thoughts, but he figured he had to be imagining things.

  He checked the woman for obvious fractures and found none, but her height and body shape matched that of a certain Disaster Buster he’d recently met—and couldn’t seem to forge
t.

  Again, he shone his light into her face. By the looks of it, her nose was broken.

  “Cadi?” He set his hand on her shoulder to prevent her from moving in case of a head, neck, or spinal cord injury. “Cadi, is that you? Can you hear me?”

  Her eyes fluttered open, and he glimpsed their blue depths. He knew without a doubt it was her.

  “Oh, it’s you.”

  Her less-than-enthusiastic reaction was like a knife in his heart.

  She stirred.

  “Be still. The paramedics will be here in a few minutes.”

  “I need to sit up. I—I can’t breathe.”

  Frank tried to stop her from moving, but she was in obvious distress. At last he propped her up the safest way he knew how and hoped her injuries weren’t worse than they appeared.

  “That’s better,” she panted. “I felt like I was suffocating.”

  “Stay still, Cadi. You might have internal injuries or broken bones.”

  “I managed to crawl out of the truck by myself and make my way this far.”

  Frank felt both impressed and amused. “Do me a favor and stay still, okay?”

  “Or what? You’ll arrest me?” She tried to stand.

  “Cadi, you’re hurt. Let’s call a truce so I can help you.”

  She replied with a half groan and half cry.

  “Let me help you.”

  She didn’t protest further, and Frank tried to make her comfortable. The seconds passing seemed like hours. He couldn’t imagine what was taking the paramedics so long to arrive.

  Cadi began to struggle again.

  “Take it easy.”

  “Is the truck going to blow up?”

  “I doubt it.” Frank shined his flashlight on the mangled vehicle. He detected no signs of danger.

  “I heard Ross say—say the truck was going to blow up. I was so freaked out.”