Page 40 of Broken SEAL'S Secret Baby
Kate rolls her eyes at both of us. “You don’t expect us to ride in the camper, do you?” she asks, remembering the spavined old Ford that had consumed so many of our weekends.
James walks over and gives his sister a hug. “What do you take me for? Of course not. That would be unsafe and illegal. I brought Dad’s F-150 special King Cab.”
James takes Kate’s laptop bag, and the custodian who had walked with us down three miles of stairs follows along behind with her book bag and my duffle.
When James opens the door to the truck, I can see why he had brought it instead of our college toy. There is a child’s safety seat in the back, as well as bench seats with seat beltsfor bigger people. Behind the seats is space for groceries, luggage, or whatever else a farm family might want to haul.
Kate quickly loads Cece into the safety seat and climbs up beside her. Gidget hops up between them. James walks around to the passenger door with me. He divests me of the cat carrier, hands it to Kate, then gives me a shoulder up. I manage not to groan with relief as I settle into the heated cloth upholstered seat.
“Long walk down?” James asks, amusement glinting in hazel eyes that are so like his sister’s.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Long walk.”
Kate leans forward and taps me on the shoulder. “What about Larry?” she asks.
“Who?” I question.
“Larry,” she says. “The custodian who helped carry our stuff. His house was demolished last night, and he doesn’t have any family. We talked during our rest stops.”
“He can ride with us,” James breaks in. “I could use another hand, especially someone that is willing to help. You want to come along?” He directs the last to Larry, the custodian.
Larry shrugs. “Neighbor called a little bit ago. Everything on our block is gone. He was in the church basement, and just checked back. One of the few times I’m grateful that I don’t have a wife, kids, or pets. So, if you’ve got a place for me and work to do, I might as well. Everything I own is on my back or in my pockets.”
Looking up in the rearview mirror, I see Kate scoot over toward Cece, making room on the bench for the custodian. While I don’t know every employee in the Agri-Oil building, I realize that I don’t know the man and I’m not sure I’d ever seen him before.
He is wearing an Agri-Oil custodial uniform, so he didn’t even own the clothes he was wearing since we rented theuniforms from a service that dropped off the clean ones and picked up the dirty ones each week. Somehow, he made me uneasy, but under the circumstances, I could hardly refuse him.
James hops up into the driver’s seat, then leans out the window to confer with a man wearing a red fez with a tassel on top. The fellow drops out of sight, then reappears astraddle a motorcycle, walking it up the row of cars ahead of us. When he reaches an opening, he picks up his feet and drives cautiously up the line.
I must have looked puzzled, because James explains, “Shriner. The local chapter is volunteering to help guide our caravan since the police and just about everyone else is busy. He’s gone ahead to tell the lead car that everyone is loaded, and we are ready to roll out.”
I nod my understanding and lean back in the seat. As the long column of cars, buses, vans and other assorted vehicles rolled out, I try to think what to do next. I’m taking these people out to a hunk of unimproved land, without even so much as a barn to house them. What the heck am I going to do with them?
Chapter seventeen
Kate
I check Cece to make sure she is strapped in securely. The booster seat is not quite up to code since it had been new when I was a baby, but it is better than nothing.
Charles is on the phone, apparently talking to his building security. “Mmm-humm, mm-hmm,” he makes ‘I’m listening’ noises to the person on the other end. Then he actually speaks. “Put emergency tape all around the building, and post security patrols. If it looks like it’s going to collapse, try to get everyone out of the way. I’ll call our construction crews and see if we can get some cranes and other heavy machinery to do some scaffolding. The other three main columns should hold, but it might not withstand another mega storm like this one.”
He has no sooner hung up, than his phone rings. “Charles Emory,” he answers. Then, “Absolutely, Lieutenant. I’m cordoning it off as we speak and putting my own security around it. I’ve got heavy equipment on the way to help keep it from toppling. Do you need me to divert any of it?”
There is a pause while Charles listens. “Whatever we can lend you, Lieutenant. As soon as I can get my house in order, I’ll call you back with a contact number.”
He then hangs up and asks, “James, have you heard from Manuela?”
“I have,” James answers. “The storm pretty much passed by her brownstone. Her daughters are at the hospital where things are more than a little desperate right now, between the pandemic victims and those injured in the storm. I made her central processing, since she’s got that fancy rig you set up for her.”
“Thank God!” Charles says fervently. “That’s one worry off my mind. Yes, that’s absolutely right. She’s got the security clearance, and she’s great at taking messages and sending them on to the right people.”
I, too, give a sigh of relief. Over the last several weeks, I’d spent a lot of time on Zoom or Google Chat with Manuela. She had shared recipes, locations of vital household equipment (such as the vacuum cleaner), and her granddaughters, ages seven and ten, had spent at least an hour each day playing games with Cece and talking with her. We are all going to miss the social contact. More than that, I am glad to know that she and her family are all right.
My phone chimes. It’s Grace.
Grace: Kate! Are you all right? Did James find you?
Me: Yes, and yes. We are on our way to some property that Charles owns.
