Ian touched his bruised cheek. “It’s a long story. I’m fine. Wasn’t that an amazing service?”
Lizzie nodded.
“Looking for anything in particular?” Ian motioned toward the bulletin board.
“No, just seeing what’s out there. You never know what may be helpful with the renovation.”
“I should put my card up.” Ian pulled his wallet from his pocket and reached for a pin.
“How long have you been coming here?” Lizzie asked.
“About six years. How about you?”
“Three years.” Lizzie shook her head in disbelief. “The time flies. Seems like just yesterday.”
“I’m surprised we’ve never met before.” Ian gave her a warm smile, his eyes twinkling. “Well, I should let you go. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Lizzie watched Ian disappear through the front doors before noticing a business card on the bottom of the board. She pulled out the tack holding it.
Vinnie Falcone
The Counter Doctor
Granite counter tops for a fraction of the cost!
She fished a notepad from her purse and scribbled down the information. She gave the board one more look before dropping the pad into her purse and exiting the church.
Dark clouds threatened rain. A brisk wind battered the palm trees, causing Lizzie’s eyes to water as she made her way across the parking lot. She ducked into the car as the first drops started to fall. By the time she pulled out of the parking lot, rain fell in thick sheets. The traffic light ahead turned yellow and she pumped the brakes. Behind her, she heard the squeal of tires, as a large SUV barreled down on her and skidded onto the shoulder. She felt her pulse quicken and saw in the rearview mirror the driver shaking his fist at her.
It took twenty minutes longer than usual to get to the house and she nosed the car as close as she could. Gathering her backpack, a can of paint, and a bucket of brushes, Lizzie charged from the car to the porch. She was soaked when she reached the front door, thankful for the extra clothes in her bag.
She set the paint and brushes on the floor, and carried her bag into the master bath. The rain came down harder, beating on the windows. Lizzie looked out into the backyard where large puddles were forming and realized she didn’t have a single curtain in the place to provide a measure of privacy for changing clothes. She leaned against the wall staring at the gray darkness, her wet clothes leaching the warmth from her body.
Lizzie remembered the rags she had used to wash the walls. She dashed to the kitchen and returned with two of them. She used a couple of hair clips to join the cloths and draped one end over the curtain rod. Her makeshift curtain just reached the bottom of the window. Lizzie stripped off the wet clothes, depositing them in the bathtub, and changed into tattered shorts and old T-shirt. Ready for work, she thought.
She returned to the living room, turned on the radio, and opened a can of sage green paint. She stirred it and poured some into a tray. For the next two hours she worked, starting on the wall farthest from the door. The rolling motion soon became natural and she found herself moving in time to the music. When she finished the wall, she stepped back to admire her work. The house was hot and stuffy, a blanket of humidity clung to her and the paint fumes made her dizzy. Outside the sun was breaking through the clouds, beckoning her to push open a window and allow a cool breeze to waft in. The smell of honeysuckle filled her nostrils. She moved through the house opening the other windows creating a pleasant cross breeze.
Her cell phone sang “Praise You in the Storm” sending her racing back to the bedroom where she had left her bag.
“Hey, Emma,” she answered.
“I forgot to ask you this morning if you are going to be able to come to Bible study on Tuesday.”
“I forgot, but I’ll be there. Do you need me to bring anything?”
“Nah, you have too much going on already. We can handle it.”
“I promised Jeffrey a new batch of cookies this week so it’s no trouble.”
“Girl, when are you going to have time for that?”
“I guess I won’t do any work here the next couple of days. Painting is going to take longer than I thought. It looks so easy when they do it on HGTV.”
Emma laughed. “That’s called editing. You’re going to need to start packing soon too.”
“I think I’ve been in denial about that, my mind has been so preoccupied with plans here, but you’re right. Maybe I can start this week and do the painting next week.” A sense of overwhelming helplessness came over her and she dropped to the floor.
“Just breathe. It’s going to be fine. You have plenty of time. You know you can store things in our garage if you don’t want to move everything in before you are done working. What do you need besides a bed, some clothes, and a few dishes? Boxing things up is easy. Maybe you can take a day off work next week.”
“We’re booked solid for the next month and I should have the chance to make some extra money. I don’t want to dip into the trust set up from mom and dad’s life insurance.”
“It’ll work out. I’ll say a special prayer for you. See you Tuesday.”
Lizzie’s stomach growled causing her to look at her watch. It was almost three o’clock and she had forgotten to eat lunch. She pulled a thermal bag from the backpack, popped the can of diet soda, and opened a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
By six o’clock Lizzie had completed painting in the living room. Her arms ached but the room looked crisp and fresh. A thrill of accomplishment and pride accompanied her as she closed the paint can, washed out her brushes, and trudged to her car.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hey guys! I know most of you have heard I finally found a place downtown. It’s a real fixer upper, though and I could use your help. If any of you are free this weekend, I would appreciate it if you could come paint with me. I have work to do inside and out, and if you could bring your own paint brushes that would be great too. I promise to have plenty of pizza!
Lizzie gnawed on her lip before sending the email. She felt bad asking her friends to help like this, but she knew most of them wouldn’t mind. Between friends at church and the Concierge Club, she figured she might get five or six people.
Mondays were always busy days and this one was no exception. Most of the hotels in Orlando were at capacity, with a multi-national company hosting a convention this week. A large group of representatives from Texas had chosen Hotel Lago to be their home base, taking advantage of the intimate atmosphere to hold some of their own private functions. In addition to her duties as concierge, Lizzie assisted their one convention manager when large groups were in-house.
“Gustave, my dearest,” Lizzie cooed as she entered the chef’s office just after two o’clock.
“What do you need, my sweet?” he responded a little brusquely.
“The group wants to add hot appetizers to their menu tonight.” Lizzie took a seat on the edge of a hard metal chair, placing her palms on the desk and offering her sweetest smile.
“You’re joking, right?” Gustave dropped his head in his hands when Lizzie gave a small shake of her head. “They couldn’t have decided that this morning? Don’t they know how much time it takes to prep these things?”
“Of course not, you just wave your wand and like magic, it appears.” Lizzie handed him a list of requested foods. “They said they would be happy with three of these if you couldn’t do them all.”
“Only three?” Gustave responded, exasperated. “Let’s see there are two hundred people in this group so that is a minimum of six hundred servings.”
Lizzie nodded. “And they mentioned they may be bringing over some friends they met at the conference.”
Gustave threw his hands into the air, pushed his chair back with a loud scrape, and stepped from behind the desk. “You shoo now, I have four hours to get all of this prepared!”
Lizzie made a fast exit, hearing Gustave bellowing commands as the door cl
osed behind her.
“Good morning.” Jenny greeted Jeffrey as he entered the office late Monday morning. “Is everything alright?” She came around her desk and poured him a cup of coffee. Jeffrey groaned in response.
After Ian had dropped him off Saturday night, Jeffrey had passed out and woken at noon on Sunday with an aching head and his mouth had felt like he’d eaten a bag of cotton balls. His solution had been to start the morning off with a little orange juice and a lot of vodka. Now he was nursing the mother of all hangovers.
Jenny set a cup of coffee on his desk. He noticed her nose crinkle when she neared him.
“What’s wrong?” he barked.
“Nothing,” she said, stepping back. Jeffrey waved her away and turned to his computer. A rumbling noise could be heard outside, but Jeffrey ignored it until the office door swung open and Wally stumbled in.
“Come quick, there’s been an accident.” Wally was out of breath and flushed. Jeffrey turned and took in his friend for a moment.
“What happened?”
“One of the scaffolds collapsed.” Wally reached for Jeffrey’s arm to pull him outside but Jeffrey shrugged him off.
“Has anyone called 9-1-1?” Jenny asked, reaching for the phone as Jeffrey stood to follow Wally outside.
“I don’t know,” Wally replied. “I was out at the truck when I heard the noise. I ran in here as soon as I saw what happened.”
Pipes, boards, and concrete blocks lay in a chaotic pile on the east side of the structure. Men were digging through the rubble; screams of pain and shouts of instruction rang in Jeffrey’s ears. He clutched his pounding head and tried to make sense of the scene.
“Stop everything,” Jeffrey yelled. “We might destabilize it and crush them, if they aren’t already. How many people are under this mess?”
“At least six,” responded one of the workers. “There were two on the scaffold and four that I know of in the general area underneath.”
Jeffrey rubbed his temples trying to focus his thoughts. “I want everyone to report to their supervisors, and I want a head count in the next five minutes. I need to know exactly who is missing before the paramedics start digging.” The wail of sirens could be heard in the distance. Men and women gathered in groups around their respective supervisors.
Fire trucks arrived in minutes and emergency workers began assessing the situation. Jeffrey gathered reports from his supervisors and approached the man he believed to be in charge of the firefighters.
“We have six confirmed missing,” Jeffrey reported.
“How long have they been trapped?” the fire chief asked, a calm authority to his tone.
“Maybe ten minutes, I’m not sure, it all happened pretty fast,” Jeffrey said, eyes scanning the wreckage.
“Has anyone attempted a rescue?”
“Several guys were pulling on things when I got out here. I told them to stop as soon as I saw it.”
“Good thinking,” the chief nodded. “We’ll do everything we can to get them all out.” The chief clapped Jeffrey on the back and headed toward the debris where his team was already assessing the best way to tackle the project.
The construction crew gathered in a tense knot on the far side of the site, out of the way but still able to see what was happening. The firefighters pulled boards out as if they were playing a giant game of Ker Plunk. Jeffrey’s heart plummeted when the debris shifted.
“Help!” a faint voice could be heard calling.
Jeffrey sat on the bumper of a nearby truck rubbing his eyes. Specks of dust still floated in the air from the crash.
The sun grew increasingly warm as the morning progressed, beating down on the rescuers without mercy. A fresh scream of sirens reached Jeffrey’s ears. In minutes, three ambulances arrived skidding to a stop at the edge of the work site. Paramedics poured out of the vehicles descending on the building like life giving water in the desert.
Jeffrey pushed through the group of workers looking for the foreman. “How did this happen, Donald?”
Donald was a short, muscular man in his late forties with grey eyes and thinning blond hair. “I’m not sure,” he replied. “I sent a couple of guys up on the scaffold to finish framing out the windows on the fifth floor, the next thing I know it was all crashing down.”
Jeffrey shook his head in frustration and walked away without another word. He weaved through the mesmerized crowd toward the fire chief.
“How’s it looking?” Jeffrey asked.
“My guys can see two people down there, and have almost made it to one, but his legs are pinned under a beam,” the chief said with a shake of his head, a grave look on his face. “We haven’t heard anything from the other four you believe are down there.”
“What are the chances they’re okay?” Jeffrey felt his chest tighten.
“Hard to say.” The chief appeared to be picking his words carefully. “There may be a pocket down there protecting them and they may be unconscious, which is why we haven’t heard anything. We won’t know until we get to the bottom of the debris.”
Jeffrey’s throat went dry, preventing him from responding. He returned his gaze to the action unfolding before him. The whine of a saw rose above the voices of the emergency workers.
“We need a stretcher over here,” yelled a firefighter. Paramedics rushed forward, placing the gurney as close as possible to the site where two firemen were pulling a screaming man from the wreckage. Jeffrey struggled to recognize the face, obscured by blood and dirt, as the paramedics strapped the man onto the stark white sheets and scrambled back to the waiting ambulance. The driver slammed the vehicle into gear as soon as the back doors closed.
Jeffrey noticed a crowd gathering on the sidewalk and moved to hold them back. “Wally,” he called. “Get some of the guys over here to keep these people moving.” Jeffrey approached the crowd and requested they move on. A few of the spectators did leave but some shouted questions, making his aching head pound even more.
Several police cars arrived, disgorging half a dozen officers who immediately took control of the crowd. Jeffrey briefed one of them and pointed him in the direction of the fire chief. His shoulders drooped with relief until a news van inched its way to the curb. A reporter jumped from the van, sprinting to the edge of the construction site, chastising his lumbering cameraman.
“Sir, what can you tell me about the situation?” the reporter asked a hefty man who stood watching the workers.
“I dunno,” he replied in a deep baritone voice. “I was walking to work and saw all the flashing lights, so I stopped.”
The reporter scanned the area looking for someone in charge. He caught sight of the fire chief and attempted to cross the sidewalk onto the site. A lanky policeman towering five inches taller than the reporter stepped into his path.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the officer demanded.
“I just want to talk to the chief, to get a sense of what’s going on.”
“What does it look like? There’s been an accident and people are hurt. They don’t need any more trouble right now.” The officer swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet as the reporter tried to slip around him.
“I won’t be any trouble. I just want to tell their story. How many are hurt? Are there any fatalities?”
“You reporters are all the same,” the officer sneered. “Vultures, not even waiting for the bodies to cool.”
“Don’t you think the public has a right to know what’s going on?”
“I’m sure a statement will be made when the time is right.”
Jeffery stood several feet away watching the police officer defend the site. He appreciated the effort, but knew the reporter wouldn’t be deterred long. He took a deep breath and raked his hands through his hair. With a loud exhalation, he stepped toward the officer.
“Thank you, officer. I’ll take it from here.” Jeffrey patted the policeman on the back and motioned for the reporter to follow him.
“What happened???
? the reporter asked again.
“We aren’t clear on the details yet, but I can tell you that a scaffold has collapsed, we believe six people were involved in the accident. One was just pulled from the wreckage and sent to the hospital.” Jeffrey was surprised at his own calm tone.
“Have the families been contacted yet?”
Jeffrey was startled by this question. He’d been completely focused on the rescue and hadn’t even considered the families yet. “We’re in the process of contacting them now”.
He searched the crowd of faces for Jenny but couldn’t locate her. “If you don’t mind I have a lot to take care of right now. Any more questions will have to wait until all my men are safe.” Jeffrey escorted the reporter back to the sea of spectators and entrusted him to the care of the police officers; he then ran back to the trailer where he found Jenny on the phone, tears in her eyes.
“Mrs. Sullivan, this is Jenny from Hollisbrook Construction. There has been an accident and your husband…” Jenny fumbled for words. “I think you should come down here as soon as possible.” Jenny listened to the woman on the other end of the phone tears slipping from her long lashes. After several minutes, she hung up and dropped her head into her hands. Jeffrey stood immobilized in the center of the office.
“The families of the missing men have been notified,” Jenny whispered. She pulled a tissue from a box on the desk and blew her nose.
“Thank you,” was all Jeffrey could think to say. He rubbed his temples trying to control the throbbing pain in his head. Jenny tossed him a bottle of aspirin. He popped a couple and sank into his chair. “How did this happen?”
Jenny didn’t answer. They sat in silence until the screech of another ambulance reached them. Jeffrey jumped up and ran outside. Five firemen surrounded the mountain of debris creating an assembly line to remove the construction materials as they were handed down.
“What’s our status?” Jeffrey asked as soon as he reached the fire chief.
“We got your second man out. Paramedics say he has a collapsed lung and both his legs are broken. He’s on the way to the hospital now. We still haven’t heard any other cries for help so all we can do is take things apart until we find them.”
“How long is that going to take?”