Crowned and Moldering

Marigold fa

*   *   *

When I got back to the high school parking lot, the guys had already begun to break the old asphalt apart. The SolarLight technician handed me a powerful set of headphones, because the noise of the equipment was incredibly loud. My guys were operating jackhammers, while the SolarLight team had brought in a really cool hydraulic hammer attached to a backhoe loader. Tomorrow, SolarLight would bring even more heavy equipment to the site and begin loading and hauling away the old asphalt.

Once the old area was completely cleared, we would excavate a hole deep and wide enough to contain the large underground water tank that would store the runoff from the canopies. Then, with guidance from the engineers, we would dig six-foot holes in which the thick steel canopy posts would stand. The posts would be encased in a three-foot-thick concrete base. At every step, the company’s engineers and experts would be configuring the electrical grids and solar panels to provide both battery-charging stations and outdoor lighting.

Once the posts were erected, we would begin leveling the soil and layering the aggregate materials that would make up the base beneath the outer asphalt surface. In anticipation of our subcontractor’s laying down the asphalt, SolarLight had brought in an asphalt paver—a massive piece of machinery—to press the hot asphalt mix down into the base layer until the surface of the lot was smooth and even.

Sadly, the company had also brought its own drivers to operate the heavy machinery, so my crew and I had to assist on the ground. Even so, it was always fun to work around these monstrous machines and watch how they could tear the earth apart and put it back together again.

“Hey, boss,” Sean said when the hydraulic-hammer operator took a break and we could all hear ourselves think again. “You ought to buy one of those monsters for the company.”

“Oh, sure. And I suppose you’re offering to operate it?”

“Absolutely.” He flexed his muscular arms for me. “I could rock that thing.”

“I’m sure you could,” I said with a grin.

“Think about it, boss. It’s an awesome machine.”

“It’s noisy, anyway.” I was thrilled to see Sean’s good mood returning more and more with each day. Good, hard work helped, although he’d had some setbacks and I expected him to have many more. Every so often I would catch him staring off, and I wondered if he was thinking of Lily. I was still worried that he wasn’t getting out much. I hated to think of him sitting home alone every night, berating himself and wondering what he could’ve done to save his sister’s life. “So, what’s up, Sean? How’re you doing?”

He kicked a pebble away with his steel-toed work boot. “You might as well know, I talked to Chief Jensen a little while ago.”

“Eric was here?”

“No, he called me. Said he was checking my dad’s arrest file and was disappointed to find no DNA on record.”

I had to think for a minute. Hugh Brogan had been in and out of jail for years and he’d died only a few years ago, so why didn’t they have his DNA on record?

“Did he say why he wanted it?” I couldn’t imagine Eric confiding in Sean that his sister had been pregnant when she died, but who knew? Would Eric actually ask Sean if he thought his father was capable of raping his own daughter and then killing her when he found out she was pregnant?

It was a horrible possibility, and I hated even the remote chance that Sean might have to deal with it.

“You remember I told him that I thought my dad was capable of killing Lily?”

“Yes.”

“So Eric said he would look into every possible scenario and let me know what he found out. But now without my dad’s DNA . . . it’s like he’s hit a wall.” Sean shrugged helplessly.

“Do you have anything that might contain his DNA?” I asked.

“That’s what Eric wanted to know. I’ve tried to think of anything of his I might’ve held on to, but I don’t have a thing.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I got rid of everything in his house before I sold it. Believe me, nothing he owned had any value, sentimental or otherwise.”

“I understand.” I squeezed his arm in sympathy and tried to see all of this from Eric’s perspective. “You’ve already submitted to DNA testing, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, at least you’ll be cleared of any wrongdoing. That’s all I care about right now.”

He smiled. “You just don’t want to lose an able-bodied worker to do your bidding.”

I gri

“Yes, Your Boss-ship.” He backed away, bowing.

I walked away happy.

*   *   *

All afternoon, as the guys and I worked together to break up the asphalt, I marveled that Sean’s sense of humor was still intact. But according to Wade and Douglas, Sean had turned down several of their offers to meet for drinks or di

Later that afternoon, I saw Callie waiting at our usual meeting spot. “Ready to go?”

“Would you mind if I stayed at school a while longer?” she asked. “I met a girl in one of my classes who’s starring in the spring play. She said I could come by to see the rehearsals, and she’ll take me home later. If it’s okay with you, I mean.”

“That sounds like fun. Mind if I tag along?” I quickly added, “I won’t hang out with you, but I’d love to see what they’re doing.”

“Sure,” she said, surprising me. “And we can hang together if you want. I don’t care. Let’s go.”

I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t tagging along solely because I was worried about Callie. I really did want to see how the rehearsals were going. I especially wanted to see if the carpentry crew was as good as they were when I was in charge.

That was my story and I was sticking to it.

On the way to the theater building, I texted Mac to let him know we’d be home a little later than expected. We reached the stairs leading to the auditorium just as the door opened and Whitney walked out.

“Oh, great,” she said. “Way to ruin my day.”

“Callie, you go on inside. I’ll be just a minute.” There was no way I was going to put up with Whitney’s insults in front of Callie.

“Are you sure?” Callie asked. She was frowning at Whitney, and I wanted to hug her for sensing danger. Not that I was in any real danger, but Whitney was definitely not a friend. I was impressed that Callie had recognized it instantly.

“Sure,” I said easily. “I’ll see you inside.”

“Okay.” She jogged up the stairs to the door. Swinging it open, she disappeared into the building.

“Who’s that?” Whitney asked, her voice free of disdain for once.

“A friend. Why?”

“She’s cute. Is she a student?”

“Yes,” I said with caution, wondering why she wanted to know.

“Does she want to try out for the cheerleading squad?”

I decided to cut Whitney a tiny bit of slack, only because she’d said something nice about Callie. “She’d probably enjoy it, but she’s a temporary student visiting from out of town, so she wouldn’t be a good choice for the squad.”

“Oh. Too bad.” Whitney started to walk away, then stopped. “Oh, and just as I suspected, you had to go and snitch to Tommy about me hiring Cliff.”

“I didn’t snitch,” I said calmly. “I was just dropping off the blueprints you asked for, and Tommy didn’t know what I was talking about. So it’s your own fault for not getting your story straight with him.”