Chapter 51
Cole wiped the back of his sleeve across his sweaty brow. The build was going amazing. A few problems had cropped up, but they were almost finished.
Most notably? It had all been done by men and women with no future. Not a discernible one, at any rate. All of them, in less than a week, could very well be homeless.
But that hadn’t stopped them from giving their best. The Foundation was perfect now. Best, it hit all the necessary government standards, checked all the boxes. His heart swelled with pride. They’d done a good job.
Best of all?
Tabby had been there, for all of it. Even better? She’d been without makeup, full of piss and vinegar. Taking her rightful place in their community, fully accepted as the ballsy woman she was.
As he looked over the group moving en masse through the grounds now with garbage bags and shovels, picking up trash, patting divots of earth back into place, with some of the women walking with watering cans behind them sprinkling the bits, he realized. One hand was curiously missing from the rebuild efforts.
Had he seen Kelvin at all, that day?
He thought hard. The guy had definitely been with them in the morning. Later Dax told him Kelvin had run back to the ranch for something, and commented he was feeling a might off, but that he’d be back soon.
Hmmm.
“Hey, Dax. You seen Kelvin at all this aft?”
Dax stopped in mid-water of a small patch of earth close to the building, where flowers bloomed. “No, Master. I don’t think he’s been back. Do you think he’s okay? He seemed a bit off.” He stopped, held the can upright.
Cole shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’m gonna phone and check.”
“Good idea.” Dax went back to watering, even with an irritated frown when a bit of the water spurt sideways at him, wet his pants in the cool evening air.
But Kelvin was not picking up. His phone in fact, was not registering. Something about not accepting calls.
“Blockhead. Probably hasn’t paid his bill.”
Cole sighed, and a pang of shame hit him. It wasn’t like him not to pay his men, and after the deal with Beswick had fallen through, all that had gone to hell, again. He’d see if he could slip them all a few extra dollars before they left. Though he was secretly hoping to work out a deal with Quinn to keep the men on, despite the blowhard’s previous loud pronouncements that it would never happen.
It was all in Quinn’s hands. Cole had no bargaining power, not in this. If it had been a normal sale, he’d have some say. This time, Great Gramps had decided it all.
“I’ll call Ma.” He dialed the number. She’d know, and if she’d seen Kelvin’s truck, she’d probably have taken him some chicken soup or something already, dug it out of the freezer. That woman would nurse the ugliest wart hog back to life…because.
But when Ma didn’t answer either, after the third call half an hour later, something niggled at him.
He looked around. Things were wrapping up, and sliding into party mode. Dax was pulling the foil off metal trays of fried chicken and lasagna. Ranger’s guitar was already out. Little kids were starting to gather on soft blankets on the lawn, lining up their stuffed toys to be part of the celebration.
He really couldn’t leave yet. The men needed their reward and a morale boost, and damned if he wasn’t going to give it to them.
But still, he needed to know Ma was okay, alone on the ranch.
Things are at least going okay, now. We know where we all stand, but we’re all well. Dad, too, seems to be recovering. He’s his old self.
But if something happened to his Ma, it would make all of what they’d been through to date seem like the good old days.
A shiver coursed through him. Where was she? She took her phone with her, even into the tub.
Where the hell was she?
This might be a bit unusual, but hell. He’d paid the private investigator a chunk of money, a retainer of sorts, and the man was closer. He dialed his number, winced as it went to voicemail. “Satie. You busy?” He left his message.
Then he noted another voicemail, this one on his phone. He hit the code to retrieve it, and as he listened, his jaw clenched.