Catherine slipped on the gloves she'd brought for the occasion. Now for the ingredients. She would never find a timer here but she might be able to rig something. The guys had to blow a chunk out of the mountain to start this project and that meant explosives and some sort of firing mechanism. Most sites had electrical igniters. All she had to do was wire the bomb into the ignition of the crane. Boom. While Frank stood there watching them lift another column into place, he would die. It would be beautiful.
Too bad she wouldn't be able to watch the demolition firsthand. The restraining order kept her from that. She would read about it in the newspapers though. She might save the clippings, sort of build a scrapbook for her new life, starting with the ending of the old one. And the news! That would be on television. And when it came out, she was the grieving widow they would show her, she would wear a hat with a veil. Very dramatic. Everyone would feel sorry for her, would reach out to her. Yes, that would be excellent! She felt a tingle that even caused her nipples to pebble as she decided she would plan her “mourning wardrobe” after she got back to her hotel tonight.
Catherine roamed around the site. She hated construction. It was so dirty. To think she married a man who enjoyed this. Yuck. She would find someone far more suitable the next round.
She found a large storage shed marked with a variety of warnings and a pad lock. She ignored the warnings. She wanted dangerous. She picked up an ax and started chopping at the lock. Nothing happened. The damn thing moved too much for a clean hit. She found a pry bar though and that did the trick. The lock fell away and she pulled open the door.
Not once had Frank mentioned a security system. Apparently explosives were handled better than even the tools. A digital pad in the building flashed. She didn't know the disarm code. She darted inside, grabbing a box that looked like explosives then ran from the building as the alarm started sounding.
"Minor problem,” she kept repeating to herself as she ran through the site, across the street, and then climbed into her car. She couldn't let anyone see her tag numbers so she took off, hoping she wouldn't happen across any police on the way.
Catherine stopped at the nearest gas station and went inside. There she would wait, drink some coffee in the parking lot. She wanted this over tonight. Some dumb-ass cops would go out there, check the scene, then go home. She would have the rest of the night to make her surprise for Frank.
"I hope you watch those guys good and close tomorrow. When that crane starts, you're history."
* * * *
Frank thought he had walked into hell. His home was trashed. Even Win looked disturbed over the scene. When she had first left, the place looked okay. Of course, the police had escorted her away. All had been quiet for two weeks. His dear wife must've made a return trip here today.
It looked like Catherine had gone crazy, throwing furniture, breaking dishes. Worse, it seemed she had tried to take a saw to the front and back porches. He had never seen so much destruction. It would take him several days to put this back together.
He slumped onto the couch and started to turn on the television when he saw one of Catherine's shoes stuck halfway in the glass screen. At least he was home and not staying in the trailer. Win put his head in Frank's lap as if to agree. He didn't trust Catherine though. She could very well come back to the house tonight and try to kill him. He certainly didn't believe the mess with her was over with this one temper tantrum.
The cell phone in his pocket started ringing. This late at night, the news couldn't be good. He clicked send and waited to hear the new troubles laying on him. Somehow, he thought they would be related to Catherine.
"This is Frank, talk to me."
Frank opened his mouth, then closed it as the police officer went over a triggered alarm at his construction site. His mind froze as the officer told him the only building that had been tampered with was marked as “dangerous/explosives."
"I'll be right there."
Frank stood, wondering how far Catherine would go this time. Had she been at the site and stolen explosives? Would she put a bomb in his home? He supposed anything was possible with her. He also doubted this nightmare would ever be finished.
Frank opened his cell phone again and dialed Bill. His foreman needed to be aware of the situation. He also wanted Bill to watch out. There was no telling what Catherine would do with her plan foiled.
Frank didn't give Bill time to say hello when he answered. “Bill, you'll never guess what happened.” “Someone has broken into the explosives shed. This may mean big trouble. We may even get our license pulled to do blast jobs."
"Shit. Could it be Catherine?"
Odd how everyone seemed to have the same opinion.
"I'm willing to bet on it. She's trashed the house sometime today. She probably decided to blow it up instead of give it up. Anyway, I'm heading down to the site. It will be a late night, so don't be surprised if I'm a little late tomorrow."
"I'll handle everything. Don't worry, boss."
"I know you will. I want to be there when they put that column in though. It could be tricky."
* * * *
Catherine stayed at the gas station. It stood on a small hill, giving her a view of the site and the flashing lights below. There were so many police officers, even a fire truck had arrived. All that fuss over one little break-in, and she wasn't finished yet. Frank had also arrived for the occasion. She wondered if he'd been staying at her house, propping his feet up, probably wondering what new trouble he could bring into her life.
"Bastard."
She finished her second cup of coffee, at almost two bucks a cup she hoped she didn't feel the need for a third. It was strange. She had thought committing the crime would give her a rush. What little it had provided left quickly. She grew bored easily, apparently and inclination didn't limit itself to men.
Around four in the morning, she saw the first police car leave the scene. Thirty minutes later, everyone had gone including Frank. She sat in her car, waiting, wondering if this were some sort of trap. She couldn't sit there all night though. Time was running out. There were days when the guys arrived for work at six.
She started her car and headed for the road. At first she drove by the site and looked for cop cars. There was none. Down the road, she turned around, stopping well before the entrance.
The site had a wonderful design. Everything Frank did was the epitome of efficiency. Here, the risk of theft was reduced by large ditch that ran the length of the site from the street side. The only way to remove equipment was through the well-lit entrance. The idea was simple, also like Frank, for a thief to steal anything big, they'd have to hotwire it in full view of the street, then drive it onto the main road. That wasn't a risk a good thief would take. Occasionally tools and such were stolen but nothing that would break Frank's bank account to replace. Of course, the site wasn't designed to keep anyone from putting anything inside.
Catherine gathered her explosives, putting as much as she could carry in her purse, and made her way along the ditch. That part was disgusting. A recent rain had made a muddy puddle in the bottom that sucked at her shoes with every step.
Finally she reached the big crane, the massive mix of metal that would create a deadly barrage of shrapnel. She felt all tingly from the thought. This was it. She would have her revenge.
She approached the massive machine, painted in worn yellow. For an instant, she touched it, feeling the cold steel. She never imagined construction equipment would be her salvation.
"Too bad there's no one here to fuck me on this thing."
Then Catherine started to work. Tomorrow, when they started the crane, Frank would die.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Frank walked into the trailer, exhaustion slowing his steps. Between the theft and the long time he'd spent talking with the investigating officers, he had only slept a couple of hours. He thought about not going into work. That would've meant Claudia not going in and the variety of questions that might raise. Bi
ll could've handled it all, down to the explanations, but Frank didn't want to put too much on him. Bill was a good employee. Besides, today they were raising the center column. The crane operator could handle it, but there was a danger whenever moving around columns of concrete. He wanted to make sure his men were safe.
As Frank closed the door, he noticed Claudia sitting there, the phone stuck to her ear. She wasn't the type to stay on the phone long, which Frank appreciated. Something had her attention though. She nodded intently, then gave him a little wave when she noticed him.
Claudia hung up the phone as he approached the desk. “I found someone."
"Thought you had someone.” He smiled and was pleasantly surprised to see her blush.
"I meant someone for you."
"I have someone.” He wanted to grab her, touch her, something.
"A psychic, Frank, a psychic. I made an appointment for you tomorrow night."
"Claudia, I don't know. Those people, they ask you questions to try to get you to tell them something and then they watch you while they make up some crazy story."
To be honest, psychics gave him the creeps. The fake ones angered him, and the idea that one could be real, well, he didn't need someone telling him how many ways he'd already screwed up his life.
"Well, I didn't tell her anything except I had a friend who needed some help, and besides, I'll go with you."
That bit of knowledge perked up his mood. Any excuse to be with her, even visiting a quack in a turban was worth it. He might talk her into another dinner.
"You tell her my name?"
"Nope, didn't tell her mine either. Just that I had a friend who needed a psychic."
"Well, maybe.” Although Frank knew he would agree to fly to the moon for Claudia. “What's her name?"
"Sapphire Moon."
"Sapph ... What the hell kind of name is that?"
"It's her craft name.” She grinned at him.
"Her—"
"Humor me, Frank. She may just have the answers you need."
"Fine. Sapphire Moon. I'm the one that's going loony. Maybe she can tell me who broke into the site last night."
"What?"
"Someone broke in. Bill is going to double-check the records this afternoon, but I'm pretty sure explosives were stolen."
"That's why you look so tired and stressed. I noticed but didn't want to say anything."
"I'm fine. Just a late night dealing with it all."
Claudia stiffened, her eyes wide. He hadn't wanted to frighten her. It was a compulsion with him, to tell her everything or almost anything on his mind. It was like they were best friends.
"Do you think Catherine could've done it?"
Frank shrugged, tried to play it nonchalant, but he feared the same thing. Not too many people would risk a smash-and-grab with the alarms going full blast. He didn't think he would feel comfortable going staying at home after all. He didn't want to live in the construction trailer again.
"Nothing for you to worry about."
He leaned forward, almost gave her a kiss on the cheek when he caught himself. He had no right to kiss her, but it had seemed so natural. He must be more tired than he had realized. Maybe he would knock off work early.
The door to the trailer opened. “Frank, we're getting ready to lift it."
He saw the men approaching the mammoth crane. This worried him, more than usual but he didn't know why. He nodded at Bill and started out of the door, walking toward the monster of metal. A new guy slid into the driver's seat. He had worked with them for a month. His lack of seniority on the job said nothing about his skill. The man had been hired because he was the best.
Frank wanted the best on this. Bringing in enough concrete had been a nightmare. Because of the design, sections were pre-molded but much of it had been constructed using piped in concrete. Not easy when taken into consideration how fast the stuff can harden.
Frank's work boots crunched on the gravel in the lot. He was less than ten feet from the crane, watching the new guy. He was taking too long, talking to Bill. Frank wanted this over with quickly.
As he walked back out to the job site, it occurred to him how well he and Claudia fit together. He smiled, looking at Bill and the new guy but thinking about Claudia. Frank reached the crane, then signaled for them to start it up. They should've already had it going and the lines checked, but everyone had waited for him.
"Frank,” shouted Claudia from the office. “Phone call. It's about the break-in last night."
He turned, annoyed with another delay or maybe just tired. One look at Claudia, standing halfway out the door, and he started at a half trot toward the trailer. She always managed to change his mood, just like that. She was wonderful.
Behind him, the crane cranked, sparked. He heard Bill saying something to the operator as Frank reached the door of the trailer. A boom followed, the ground shook. Something hit the trailer, followed by the sounds of smaller pelts.
Frank stood there in a half crouch, nearly driven to the ground by the force. Something hit his back and he went forward despite his grip on the door. His mind raced as he tumbled into the trailer. They weren't blowing into the mountainside today. An explosion, the explosives. He caught a glimpse of Claudia as she turned white. Frank turned around and saw into hell.
There was nothing left of the crane but a twisted metal square where the frame had been. The actual crane had been launched like a missile across the yard. It stuck like some bizarre antenna from the bank near the last column.
"Get an ambulance."
He said the words although Claudia was already on the phone. For the men near the crane, no help could come in time. As he approached, he wasn't even sure what was Bill and what had been the new guy.
A cold sweat broke over his arms He'd lost his friend and an innocent employee. Deep inside, he knew he had been the target. Good men died because of one crazy-ass bitch. She knew how he oversaw the job. She knew.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Frank spent the day talking with police, going over every detail. They weren't finished until well into the night. An inspector found his records and handling of the explosions up to code. No permits were being revoked, but that provided little solace when he had lost two men and had five others injured. He cancelled work for the rest of the week, leaving him a lone witness to the empty site, the twisted carnage. He returned there this morning and stared at the charred ground, the bits of metal. Yellow police tape marked off the area, making strange little flapping sounds in the wind.
He had never really feared Catherine, and even now anger burned brighter than anything else. People went to work to earn a living, not to die. The police hadn't found her yet. There was no telling where she'd hidden, waiting for another opportunity to try to hurt him.
He stared at the scene, lost in thought when he heard a car pull in behind him. He turned, seeing a taxi and his Claudia get out of the back. She saw him then paid the cabbie who took off onto the main road.
"What are you doing here? I told you that we weren't working this week."
"I know but I also knew you would be here."
It was wrong and inappropriate, but he pulled Claudia into his arms and gave her a hug. She felt so good there, so right, and no other woman knew him as well. She took away some of the sting that Catherine had created. She even numbed a bit of the pain from losing his men.
"Thank you."
He kept her there, in his arms, letting the pain ebb away. Claudia felt like a lifeline, the only thing going right in his world, but she didn't belong to him. That fact helped him release her, but he turned back toward the trailer instead of the yellow police tape. He moved toward the trailer, but he didn't feel real, more like a mannequin.
How did things get so fucked up?
Then Claudia was at his side, opening the door. The world slowly mended, as if color returned to a black and white world. Catherine couldn't hurt him, not with Claudia at his side. Even the sting from Pam faded.
&n
bsp; "I almost forgot. We have to go to visit the gem chick today.” He laughed and realized how bitter it sounded.
"Sapphire Moon.” Claudia quickly corrected him. “It might be good for you."
It would be good for him. If he knew what had happened to Pam, he could find her or end that chapter of his life. If a psychic could be credible, that is. There was no point in aimlessly drifting by, hoping for a miracle. He'd done that for too long with Catherine.
"What time?"
"Tonight."
He could think of a hundred things that needed to be done, but he would prefer to take Claudia out on a real date. He shouldn't. Here he was going to a psychic about an old love when maybe he found love right here. Maybe it was him. Maybe he was forever to be doomed never to have and hold one true, unconditional love.
No. That was more foolishness. He hadn't felt this way since Pam, and she hadn't been gone that long. He must be transposing his emotions for Pam to Claudia. Besides, she didn't feel the same way.
"I guess I can get to work on the forms.” He slumped to the seat behind the desk.
The two of them worked silently, sitting across the desk from each other. Occasionally their hands would bump or they would look up at the same time. Claudia would giggle a little when they made eye contact. It was a sweet sound, full of life.
Time always flew by in the office, at least since Claudia had started working. She glanced at the clock and stood. That lovely body strode across the floor as she started turning off lights in the trailer.
"Are you ready for our big date?"
Date?
"Sure, where are we going?” His mouth grew dry just looking at her.
"To Sapphire Moon's."
"Oh. I almost forgot."
Frank drove himself and Claudia to Sapphire Moon's. He still couldn't believe he was going to what had to be some sort of hippie woman's house. She'd probably have really smelly incense and dress in a caftan and wear a turban on her head. Or maybe she'd be in some weird-ass gypsy clothing.
Her Eyes Page 20
