‘You saw that?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Tell me to keep my nose out of your business if you want to. But he didn't look like he was being very friendly.’
‘You're right, Cory, it isn't really any of your business.’
Cory was taken aback—he hadn't heard Bianca speak as curtly as that before. He'd overstepped the mark, he knew it, but he had to ask. He'd been concerned about her safety.
‘I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. It's your own business; I shouldn't be prying.’
‘And I'd appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut about it to my mom, too,’ she snapped.
He'd upset her and clearly touched a nerve. She was an intern, not a friend; he'd need to remember that.
‘I will. I apologize, I was just concerned for your welfare.’
He was wasting his time. Bianca had ended the call.
Chapter Sixteen
Cory was still worrying about how he'd offended Bianca when he walked through the gate of Baker's junkyard. He was also trying to fix in his mind that whatever happened that day, he had to be over at Westview to pick up Zach from his school that afternoon. After the run-in with Nadia and Principal Clinton, that was one appointment he could not afford to miss.
The junkyard looked like a fortress from a zombie movie, surrounded by a mix of corrugated iron panels and deadly, curled barbed wire fortifications. Scrap cars were piled up five high for as far as the eye could see. It was a wonder the planning department hadn't insisted on landscaping. Kelsey's yard was a blot on the landscape, its main saving grace being that it was based in an industrial unit well away from the tourism hot spots which brought visitor dollars into the community.
The other saving grace was that Kelsey’s family had been located in the town since just before Henry Ford produced the Model T. If you dug down deep enough, and managed to tow away the piles of junked, rusted vehicles which littered the place, you would probably discover car-zero, the first-ever car to be scrapped there, and that car would likely be a Model T.
Kelsey was one of those business people who'd never bothered bringing his establishment up to twenty-first century standards and any attempt at branding or advertising had passed him by like a bee moving on from a pollen-depleted flower.
Above the entrance, daubed in red paint complete with globules from the drips, a sign announced Baker's Scrap Vehicles. That was it. No catchy phrase like No.1 in Shallow Falls for bargain car parts or Watch your head, our car parts prices are low. No beautifully produced signage using the trendiest fonts or latest design techniques. If it couldn't be scribbled on the bag of a pack of cigarettes or painted onto a metal panel with the last drops from a spray can, it had no place in Kelsey's yard.
Kelsey's office was located in a rusting shipping container just inside the entrance to the yard. There was a portable toilet just behind it; plumbing would have been too great an expense and the height of luxury. Kelsey sat at a simple desk, its surface smothered in oil drips, in a beaten up wooden chair which quite possibly arrived on the same day as the first scrap vehicle. Behind him were stripped car parts which sold well: starter motors, salvaged fan belts, bulbs, and side mirrors. There were two rusting filing cabinets to his side, and all around the front of the container, invoices and paid bills awaiting processing were hung up, held by bulging bulldog clips.
There was one concession to modernity: a telephone. Baker’s had survived quite nicely for over a century without many of the niceties which most businesses enjoyed, but a phone had been considered an essential business tool for many years. Kelsey had even gone so far as modernizing the business by introducing a Nokia cell phone in 1999. That same phone sat at his side on the desk, smeared with oil streaks but working and holding its charge just as well as it did on the day he first took it out of its box, shortly before the end of the last millennium.
By the time he walked up to Kelsey's desk, Cory was in an agitated state of mind. He wanted to smooth things over with Bianca personally, not over the phone. But he had to fix his car first. Being able to get about town—particularly with such a big and important news story going on—was absolutely crucial. He'd also gotten an uneasy feeling as he was walking out to the Summerfields Industrial Estate, like he was being watched. He'd dismissed it as paranoia, scolding himself for being rattled by a brick through the window and a dead crow on his car. A similar thing had happened once before, over the newspaper's position on plans to close an old folks’ home. Sometimes reporting the news made you unpopular, he knew that. Still, he couldn't shake the sense of unease.
‘Good morning, Kelsey, how's things?’
He had a furrow in his brow. Very little ever seemed to rattle Kelsey Baker, so that seemed unusual.
‘Nice to see you, Cory. I'll bet you're up to your ears, what with the news about that poor little girl?’
‘You can say that again. Have you had the police around here?’
‘Yes, they checked the yard thoroughly. I even managed to sell a couple of parts to two of the officers. What is it they say: every cloud has a silver lining and all that?’
‘Well, I'm hoping you can help me out, too. I have a 2001 Ford Escape. The starter motor has gone. Do you have any in the yard?’
Computerization was another twentieth century luxury that had bypassed Baker's Scrap Vehicles. What Kelsey couldn't recall from memory wasn't worth knowing.
‘We've got four of them in—your best bet is one that came in two weeks ago. It's an old model now, and most of them are worse for wear, but that one’s in good condition. You'll find it just behind the crane. It's blue—you can't miss it.’
‘Everything all right, Kelsey? You look troubled—that's unlike you.’
‘Ernie Winters didn't come in today—he's my crane guy. I tried to get over there to move a couple of the cars myself before we opened, but I've been going like a house afire this morning. It's unusual for Ernie—he's a go-getter, would turn up if he was at death's door. It's just left me in a tight spot.’
‘Sorry to hear that, Kelsey. Look, I'll get out of your way. May I take a couple of wrenches with me to strip out the starter?’
Kelsey indicated it was fine to help himself, so he picked them up and headed off into the yard.
Cory estimated the site was at least a couple of acres. It was a graveyard for the automobile industry, a Who's Who of favorite vehicles through the decades. Cars at the bottom of the stacks had generally been stripped clean. They were lucky if they had wheels, seats, or windshields left, let alone engines and headlights. The newer vehicles were generally positioned at the sides or higher up.
He wondered how health and safety figured in Kelsey's business. It seemed remarkable that some government agency or other hadn't made it illegal yet for ordinary members of the public to go scavenging car parts in environments which were jam-packed with sharp, hazardous objects and dangerous machinery. It was a good job it was still allowed, though, as it was the quickest, cheapest way for Cory to get the part he needed. There would be no such indignities for Nadia, as the high earner in the relationship. Her car went to the garage and only had dealer-approved parts.
Cory saw the blue vehicle behind the large crane and noticed the cab door was wide open, probably how Kelsey had left it when he'd had to open up to customers for the day. The Ford Escape was two vehicles up in a stack of three. He'd hoped it would be a little easier to get to.
He formulated a plan of attack. He'd need to climb into the car to release the hood. The passenger door had been stripped already, so he’d have to lean over to pull the lever on the driver's side. The driver's door on the other side was still intact, so he figured it would be easier to take the course of least resistance.
Cory pulled himself up, putting his right foot in the broken window frame of the car below, then grasped the frame of the Ford. He was pleased that Kelsey wouldn't have CCTV—if he did, Cory would likely end up on America's Funniest Home Videos. He heaved himself up over the passenger seat and reached over towar
d the hood release lever. Behind him he heard an engine starting with a deep diesel rumble. Some other customer must’ve gotten lucky and found an old engine that was working.
He couldn't quite reach the lever, so he reached across to get as close as possible. As his fingers gripped the lever and the hood eased open as far as the above car would allow, something began to shake the car. He jumped up and immediately dropped straight back down onto the seat as the roof of the vehicle came crashing down just above him. Glass from the windshield shattered and flew all over, covering his body with tiny shards.
‘Damn it, Kelsey,’ he cursed as the shaking stopped momentarily and he carefully tried to clear a safe path through the shards to pull himself back out of the car. As he started to shuffle out of the passenger's side, he pulled his dangling legs back in fast, aware of something coming straight at him from the long chain attached to the crane. Someone was swinging a car at him. Either they didn't know he was there, or they were trying to kill him.
The entire pile of cars shook violently as vehicle struck vehicle and Cory pulled his feet out of the way with only moments to spare. He could sense the crane moving again, no doubt preparing to smash the Ford Escape once more. He had to scramble over to the far side. If he could escape from the rear, he'd be able to take cover from the assault, make his way back to the entrance, and alert the police. But with the roof now crushed, he barely had any space to maneuver. One more strike from above, and he'd be crushed in there.
Cory found a floor mat on the passenger side, shook the glass from it, and placed it on the driver's seat as protection from the shattered glass. He pulled himself across the seat and began to push at the driver's door. There was a violent crash from above and the roof of the Ford crunched down just above his head. It gave him one small hope as the driver's door sprung open, forced out of its position by the bent frame. He could still hear the crane moving. One more impact and he'd be crushed. Even worse, he'd be pinned inside the car, bloodied and with broken bones, left to die slowly.
Cory thought of Zach. He had to get out for Zach; he had no intention of leaving his son fatherless.
A dark shadow formed overhead, the crane ready to drop its heavy load for a third time. Cory had only seconds left, but he was so constricted in the narrow space that he could barely move. Then, as the shadow grew darker and the inevitable crash moved closer, he heard a voice from just beyond the door.
‘Cory, grab my hands.’
It was Bianca. Her face appeared just below the driver's seat. Cory pushed his arms forward and, with a strength one so young should not really possess, Bianca pulled him out of the Ford just as the final impact finally crunched what was left of the roof. He tumbled down to the ground, followed by more broken glass, landing at Bianca’s side.
Chapter Seventeen
Cory and Bianca waited for at least five minutes before daring to move. They huddled together, creating what cover they could to protect themselves from more falling debris if it came. Everything was silent except for the crane's engine, which was still running. At least it had stopped moving.
It was Bianca who broke the silence.
‘Kelsey Baker has been knocked unconscious—he's out cold on the floor in his office.’
‘Did you get a look at who was in the crane, Bianca? Did you see who did this?’
‘No, I crept around the cars when I realized what was going on. I just wanted to get you out.’
‘Thank you, Bianca. Thank you so much—I'd have been crushed if it wasn't for you. Why are you even here?’
‘I felt terrible about cutting you off like that, it was really rude. You just… you caught me off guard. It's not something I want to talk about. What happened at school is still very raw for me. And I'm embarrassed, too. I'm sorry about the way I behaved on the phone. I wanted to meet you here and tell you as soon as possible. In person.’
‘Well, I'm pleased you did. And honestly, it's no problem. I shouldn't have been prying. We should check it's safe now—we need to get help for Kelsey if he's out cold.’
As Cory stood up, tiny fragments of glass tumbled to the ground. Pulling his sleeve down over his hand to protect his skin, he carefully brushed off the remaining shards. He could barely believe that he'd escaped unharmed. All he could feel were a couple of cuts on his legs and one of his arms, nothing life-threatening.
Having checked that the crane was without a driver, Cory climbed up into the cab and made a best guess at what was required to shut down its engine. He pulled out the key and locked up the cab, then he and Bianca ran over to the office.
Kelsey was slumped on the floor, a single wound at the back of his head where he'd been struck by a heavy object. His attacker wasn’t spoiled for choice of weapons—there were plenty of solid metal objects littered all over the yard. Kelsey's mouth had been taped up, as had his legs and hands.
Bianca knelt down and felt for a pulse.
‘He's alive,’ she said. ‘We learned how to do this at school. Can you bring me that first aid kit—the one hanging up on the wall over there? We should make him comfortable while we wait for an ambulance to arrive.’
Cory did as requested, then looked for the Nokia phone that was on the desk earlier. It had been smashed. The cord leading to the landline phone had been torn out of its socket and cut. Whoever had been operating that crane did not want to be disturbed while they were trying to finish Cory. He was bizarrely relieved that he'd fallen out with Bianca earlier on. If they'd parted on good terms, she'd never have felt compelled to seek him out to apologize.
He felt a sudden rise of anxiety, a panic attack; he hadn't had one since he was a teenager, but he recognized the symptoms. The cocktail of fear, danger, and the unknown exploded through his veins and he had to take a seat at Bianca's side for a few moments while he tried to regulate his breathing to conquer the demon.
Bianca tended to Kelsey with a confident hand, removing the ties from his feet and hands, gently peeling the tape from around his mouth, and cleaning, then loosely bandaging, the wound on his head. Finally, she rested his head on one of the floor mats that Kelsey had salvaged, then took her cell phone out of her pocket.
By the time the call to 911 had been placed, Cory had settled himself and was ready for the inevitable police frenzy that was about to follow. Sure enough, within minutes, the sirens could be heard across the town. The police car arrived first, swiftly followed by the ambulance.
Things were going from bad to worse. Of all the police officers who could have stepped out of that car, of course one of them was Louise Powell. She saw Cory right away and—just for a moment—paused. Her face colored slightly as she walked up to them. Her colleague checked Kelsey and made certain everything had been done to make him comfortable while the ambulance arrived.
‘Hi, Cory, are you okay? You look like you've been in a fight or something.’
She'd decided to tough it out and he was grateful for that. He was in no shape for an emotional confrontation at that moment.
The arrival of the emergency medical personnel created a useful distraction and Kelsey was quickly moved to a stretcher, then into the vehicle waiting to take him to the town's small hospital.
‘Will he be okay?’ Cory asked.
‘This young lady did an excellent job of patching him up,’ said one of the ambulance crew. ‘There may be some concussion, perhaps even a fractured skull, but he'll be right as rain soon enough. I'm as sure as I can be that there's no lasting damage.’
Cory thanked the ambulance worker for her update and watched as she closed the rear doors and the vehicle drove off down the street, away from the junkyard.
‘We'll need to get a statement from you both,’ Louise said, kicking into full professional mode. ‘There's no need to go to the station if you're happy to do it here. We'll need to check for fingerprints, to see if we can find any clues about who it was.’
Bianca and the second officer took the police vehicle for their chat and Cory sat in Kelsey's old wooden cha
ir. Louise sat on the table, having placed one of the floor mats over it to prevent her uniform from getting oily. When Bianca was safely out of earshot in the police car, Louise started to speak quietly.
‘I'm so sorry about what happened last night.’
‘It's fine. Really, it's no problem.’
‘No, I need to apologize. I know you have your son to consider.’
‘We'd both had too much to drink, we didn't know what we were doing…’
‘But I did know what I was doing, Cory. It was nothing to do with the drink.’
There was silence. They both looked to the ground.
‘I knew what I was doing, too, Louise. I owe you an apology, as well. I just can't start a relationship right now. I have to sort things out with Nadia.’
Louise looked towards the police vehicle to make sure they weren't being watched. She touched Cory's hand, then took it away.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I won't push you. Take care of your family first.’
A second, then a third, police car arrived. Before long, officers were all over the place, dusting for prints and taking photographs, making sure they understood exactly what had happened. Louise took a statement from Cory, and Bianca finished giving hers shortly after.
‘I don't suppose I can still get that starter motor, can I?’ Cory asked. ‘I'll make sure I settle up with Kelsey once he's back at work, but I really do need it.’
Louise made certain that her colleagues had done everything they needed with the Ford Escape and then gave Cory the nod.
‘I suspect Kelsey will be happy to offer you free parts for life, after the way Bianca helped him. Off you go, but make it quick, please. And you’d better settle up with Kelsey, or the chief will eat me for breakfast.’
Without the pressure of a mystery assailant trying to kill him, it was surprisingly easy for Cory to release the starter motor from its bracket. The damage was to the roof of the car; the engine compartment remained fully intact. Cory grimaced as he saw how near he'd been to getting crushed.
Now You See Her Page 9
