Amie Denman - Until The Ride Stops

Interesting. Matt had a younger brother who was an artist. And the artist chose to depict Matt like this.

“I...uh...don’t actually know him,” Caroline said. “We’ve just met a few times. Sorry I can’t help you. I better grab my lunch before break’s over.”

“Come back and I’ll do your portrait when you’re not wearing that ugly uniform,” Agnes said. “I’m going to draw you in a red evening gown. With a badge and gun, of course.”

When Caroline finished her lunch and took up guard duty, the hours ticked by. Slowly. There were no heavy machinery noises from the other side of the fence. Probably because it was Saturday, she thought. For all she knew, Matt had stayed for less than an hour and was now home catching up on whatever was on his DVR. She wondered where he lived. Did he have a house in Bayside? Had he lived there all his life?

What did she know about the guy? He was a construction engineer entrusted with a massive project. Jack Hamilton seemed to like him. He had broad shoulders, a smile that lit his eyes and a line around his head from wearing a hard hat.

Caroline shifted from foot to foot. Heat curled the hairs that escaped her long ponytail and stuck to her neck.

She made up sarcastic answers to the summer’s number one question, even though she forbade herself to ever use them. What are they building, you ask?

A funeral home and crematorium.

A baseball diamond.

A track for camel racing.

She watched the Scrambler flash and swirl across the midway. Counted the number of ice cream cones passing her by. Watched children skip along beside their parents.

And tried to put Matt out of her mind so she could focus on her summer goal: figure out what happened that night on the Loose Cannon back in 1985.

* * *

MATT SAT ON the tailgate of his pickup, waiting for his stepfather to stop by the construction site after closing the office for the day. While he swung his legs, taking the weight off his tired feet, he thought about Caroline.

He found her interesting. She guarded his construction zone, an invaluable ally making sure no one got in to vandalize or slow down their work with a moment of misplaced curiosity. He liked having her outside the fence with her look of determination.

But he also wondered why she was so quick with the information about the Loose Cannon and then so evasive when he questioned her. No matter how much she intrigued him, nothing was more important than securing Bruce Corbin’s trust by making sure his family never had another failure like the one long buried.

Matt knew his stepfather believed in him. Bruce hadn’t been forced to give Matt the job of construction engineer; there were other choices. But this job was also a test. Could someone with only a few years of on-the-job experience complete such a massive project? Was a master’s degree in construction engineering a substitute for age and experience?

Bruce Corbin drove through the open gate and Matt shoved it closed and locked it behind his stepfather’s truck.

Looking every one of his sixty-five years, Bruce climbed slowly out of his truck. His face was deeply lined from years of working outdoors. Since his brother John’s death over the winter, Bruce seemed to have aged ten more years.

“Looking good, Matt,” Bruce said, his voice raspy.

He leaned heavily on his truck, took a deep breath that moved his entire chest and gestured toward the construction area. Mounds of dirt. Holes ten feet deep. Dump trucks. Earthmoving machinery.

It was a mess.

“I love the smell of dirt,” Bruce said. “It’s the smell of something getting done.”

“Most people would think we’re not getting much done.”

“Most people don’t know diddly about building something this big.”

Do I know diddly about building something this big?

Matt leaned against the truck next to his stepdad. “It’s been slow work digging out concrete footers from the previous construction on the site.” He watched his stepfather’s face, then added, “Big footers.”

“I know what you’re talking about,” Bruce said. “It was that roller coaster my brother’s company built. I knew they were there when I bid this job.”

Although he was tempted to ask about the taboo subject, Matt saw the grief in Bruce’s expression and didn’t press him. Bruce’s congestive heart failure took more and more out of him every day, and Matt knew his mother was worried.

“We’ll have them all out in a few more days.”

“Good.”

“So we’re still on track with the project,” Matt said. “It would help, though, if some of the old blueprints were still around.”

Bruce shook his head. He drew another long breath. “Destroyed. All of them. Years ago.”

“It’s a little ironic,” Matt said, his voice quiet. “Digging up something Uncle John built and putting something new in its place.”

He was taking a huge risk. The Loose Cannon was a shadowy topic in their family, something he’d realized in subtle ways in the twelve years his mother had been married to Bruce.

The ride was a failure, but it wasn’t the construction company’s fault. Starlight Point had decided to dismantle the ride after only one season, and his uncle’s company got the contract to tear down something they’d just built. It had, according to whispered family stories, broken his uncle’s spirit and caused him to sell the company to his brother. A boon for Bruce Corbin, but Matt suspected his uncle had never been the same since. John moved thirty miles away and started a small home renovation company with a few trusted employees.

Matt hoped he wouldn’t follow in his uncle’s footsteps. He wouldn’t let this ride be a failure if he could help it. He wouldn’t let down his family, not when there was so much at stake—for Starlight Point and for himself. A success in the location of an old failure might help Bruce let go of his grief for his brother and give him hope for the future.

Bruce cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.

Matt was sorry he’d brought it up, sorry for the sorrow on Bruce’s face. He needed to change the subject or he was afraid his stepfather would cry, and tears from the venerable old man who had changed his life were not something Matt could handle.

“I’m giving this project everything I’ve got,” Matt said. “I’ll make you proud.”

Bruce laid a huge hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I know you will, son.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“IS THIS THE best you can do on your day off? Have lunch with your brother?” Scott asked.

Caroline pointed at the windows of the employee cafeteria, which were streaked with heavy raindrops. “You’re my rainy day plan. And you usually buy my lunch, unless I’m being particularly difficult and you’re mad at me.”

“If I spring for an extra pudding parfait, will you consider my alternate career plan for you?”

Caroline rolled her eyes. This was a conversation so old it was practically scripted.

“I’m not going to become a kindergarten teacher.”

“Zoologist?”

“No.”

“Librarian?” he suggested.

“No.”

“Dog walker. And that’s my final offer.”

Caroline grabbed a handful of fries from her brother’s plate and took her time chewing them. “I’m thinking of joining the Marines. I want to work on my upper body strength.”

“No pudding parfait for you,” Scott said.

Caroline laughed. “I’ll go easy on you and be a nice safe cop instead of a marine.”

Scott cleared his throat and drew his eyebrows together. Caroline knew the expression well, had labeled it the big brother look. Here it comes.

“You know Evie and I have an extra room in our apartment downtown. In case you’d like to escape the heat in the employee dorm. You’d have your own shower. Air conditioning. A fridge full of whatever you want.”