The Burning Point (43 page)

His hands tightened on her shoulders. "Loving me doesn't take anything away from Sam. He was one of the most generous men I've ever known. Do you think he'd have wanted you to be any more miserable than was absolutely necessary?"

"No, he wouldn't." She turned to meet Charles's gaze. "Kate said some of the best things in life happen at inconvenient times, and that something so special shouldn't be thrown away for the wrong reasons."

His long face broke into a smile. "God bless the child."

And then he kissed her.

Chapter 39

The alarm clock gave a shrill, migraine-inducing buzz, a floor lamp blazed on, six hundred watts worth. Finally Kate was waking up to the cathedral ceiling she'd designed so many years earlier. Though her imagination hadn't involved rising at god-awful hours before the sun came up.

Donovan batted the clock and the buzzer cut off. "I rigged the lamp to come on with the alarm because it's easier to get up when the room is light. After a couple of snooze cycles, I'm generally ready to face the day." He kissed her temple with sleepy affection.

A shifting weight on Kate's chest proved to be Dinah, who opened her tiny mouth and yawned. Donovan, a cat, and a warm bed. Bliss unbounded.

The worrying part of her mind started to wonder how long such happiness could last. She'd come home to a message from the detective investigating Sam's death. He'd been interested in the information she'd sent on Steve Burke and Joe Beekman. Maybe he'd learned more while she was away. "What's on the agenda? When I came in last night, you mentioned a rush project, but before you could explain, we got...sidetracked."

"And how! Today we're going to make a full-fledged assault on the damaged Concord Place building. This project has been jinxed from the get-go, and that gas explosion has made Building Four very, very unstable. If it falls on its own, it could wreck the church across the street, so we need to bring Building Four down in a controlled way as quickly as possible."

"The concrete in that project is such poor quality that it crumbles when you look at it cross-eyed. Would conventional demolition with a wrecking ball be better for taking down at least the damaged section?"

"That would be safer, but too slow. The city wants that building down now. Destroying neighborhood churches is real bad public relations."

"What did you mean by full-fledged assault?"

"Just what it sounds like. Every available PDI field person is going to be in there today, along with Nick and Joe Flynn, the foreman he swiped from us."

"Nick's being helpful?"

"Don't be shocked, it's not altruism. He's getting paid very well as a PDI subcontractor. Since he and Joe worked on Concord Place before Nick started his own shop, they know the structure, which is handy. If all goes well, we could bring this building down tonight or tomorrow morning."

"So soon? You're kidding!"

"The soft stripping was just about done before the gas explosion, so if we can design an explosives plan today while the prep crews are drilling and loading the solid part of the structure, a shot is doable. Your talent for unstable structures is going to be damned useful. The place is a mess. You and I will have to go over every inch of the damaged section before we can finalize the timing sequences."

"This is a historic moment. You're actually saying that you want me in a dangerous structure instead of huffing and puffing about how I should stay outside where it's safe."

"Don't worry, I'm thinking that, but you were right on the money predicting how the buildings in Mexico City would drop. I can't afford not to take advantage of your special talents."

The alarm started buzzing again. This time it was Kate who turned off the sound, her movement sending Dinah off in an indignant huff. "The second snooze interval will have to wait for another morning. It's time we were up and about."

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, but Donovan caught her before she could escape and pulled her into a kiss. It was not primarily an embrace of passion, though desire was always present between them. Instead, he said huskily, "In case I haven't mentioned it lately, I love you, Kate."

He
had
mentioned it, several times, the night before. As then, Kate's response was an uneasy blend of pleasure and anxiety. But maybe this morning the anxiety was a little less than the night before. If the day ever came when she could freely, without doubt, trust him enough to put her heart in his hands....

That time hadn't come. She gave him a quick kiss on the nose, then slid from the bed. One day at a time.

∗ ∗ ∗

It was going to be a pleasure to flatten Building Four, assuming it didn't flatten him first. Donovan swore and jumped back when his attempt to examine a damaged column caused a sizable slab of concrete to topple toward him. Luckily his caution saved him from harm, but pebbles rattled off his hard hat like hail.

The undamaged sections of the structure had been shoddily built--he hoped the city sued the original contractor--but at least those areas were reasonably stable.

The devastated west wing was another matter. Donovan was reminded of photos he'd seen of bomb damage in Beirut and Bosnia. Partially demolished walls, concrete crumbled like sand, and rubble everywhere. The nearer he came to the end of the building, the more charred and treacherous the structure became.

Kate appeared with clipboard in hand and an interesting variety of soot smudges. Through the course of a long day, she'd been making notes and calculations as if this hellhole was a normal workplace. "Shall we compare notes?"

"Yes, but not here." Together they moved back to the more solid part of the building. After fifteen minutes of intensive study and discussion, Donovan said, "I think this is about as good as it's going to get. I'm almost ready to sign off on the explosives plan. How about you?"

Kate gnawed at her lip as she stared at her copy of the floor plan. "I want to take another look at the reinforcement on the eighth floor, but basically, I'm ready. I doubt we're going to get any better data than we have now."

"You check the eighth while I finish going over the fifth." He looked outside at the plywood that had been nailed across the stain glass windows of the nearest structure. "Even if our calculations are a little off, I'm sure that we won't damage the church, which is the biggest concern. Nothing else is close enough to the west end to be endangered."

Kate checked her watch. "I heard Luther telling you that the loading is just about done in the undamaged part of the building. How long will it take to load this end?"

"Maybe six hours, mostly because we have to be careful moving through here. Then we can blow this beast into gravel, and good riddance."

"Emergencies can be kind of fun," she said.

"To a point, but don't spend too much time on the eighth floor or I'll send out a search party." Building Four was as hazardous as any earthquake damaged structure; he'd ordered people to work in pairs when possible.

"This will only take a few minutes." She turned and picked her way through what had once been a living room. Now, cold winds were blew grimy plaster dust through what had once been someone's home.

His own clipboard in hand, Donovan worked his way cautiously westward. Jagged spikes of rusty rebar protruded from scorched columns like shattered bones. Not much dynamite would be needed to bring them down. Hell, a good kick might be enough. The trick was to cut the steel reinforcing bars in a controlled way that would work as part of the overall shoot.

But he felt good about the plan they'd worked out. Jim Frazer, PDI's chief engineer, had already given his approval, subject to Kate and Donovan's final tuning.

He stepped around a pile of broken plasterboard, grimly noting old bullet holes. In its latter years, this had not been a happy place. A mistake not to watch his footing, though. The flooring sagged under his weight, and he almost fell.

Swearing, he caught his balance and retreated a few steps. The concrete floors were reinforced by a horizontal grid of rebar, but the gas blast and fire had caused massive damage. Slabs of ceiling concrete had fallen to the floor, and the steel had actually melted in some places.

He saw a flash of movement ahead. There shouldn't be anyone in this area, so he cautiously circled a sagging wall, stopping in surprise when he saw a familiar figure by one of the columns. "Nick? What the hell are you doing here?"

Nick Corsi spun around, a short crowbar in one hand. "Just...just checking things out." He kept his body between Donovan and the column.

It wasn't enough to block the view of what he'd been doing. Donovan said incredulously, "Are you putting plastic explosive in there? That's all wrong."

"Shit!" Nick snarled. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this." Dropping the crowbar, he reached inside his down vest to pull out a dark object that resembled a television remote. "Your timing is rotten, Donovan." He rammed the object into Donovan's solar plexus, and the world went away.

∗ ∗ ∗

Dazed, Donovan found himself lying on his back on a rough surface. Where was he? And what the hell had happened?

Cracked concrete above, the smells of demolition: a job site. Glad to have figured that out, he tried to focus on the figure looming above him. Nick Corsi, leaning down, arm extended.

Instinctively Donovan tried to evade the other man, but his muscles wouldn't respond. Christ, had he been paralyzed in an accident?

"If a second did that, five seconds should put you down long enough for me to finish the job." Nick pressed a dark object below Donovan's ribcage.

Donovan felt a wave of shock so intense that he had no name for it. Time and place and reason vanished, and he spun helplessly into hell's own limbo.

∗ ∗ ∗

Kate returned whistling from her brief expedition. The visit to the eighth floor had confirmed her original conclusions. If Donovan was ready to sign off, they were in business.

This building would be no loss, either. Kate had regretted the grand old Hotel St. Cyr, but Concord Place had outlived its time. Particularly when she was alone, she felt traces of the lives lived within these battered walls. There had been happiness and laughter and warm family love, but there had also been anger and despair. Time to blow it all to kingdom come, and build a healthy new community.

There was so much construction noise in the building that she didn't bother to yell for Donovan, just headed down a dilapidated hall toward where she'd seen him last. Seeing her cousin picking his way through the rubble, she called, "Hi, Nick. Looking for Donovan? So am I."

"I should have known you'd be along soon." Nick beckoned her. "Donovan's back this way." He led her into an open area strewn with rubble that lay beyond the corridor.

Before Kate could figure out her cousin's odd behavior, she saw Donovan lying on his side by one of the fissured columns, his body curled limply and his hard hat several feet away. "My God, Nick, what happened? Have you radioed for help?"

She dropped to her knees beside him. No fallen concrete, no blood or bruises, yet he seemed unconscious. Surely not a heart attack, not at his age! Half suffocated with fear, she checked his throat for a pulse. To her relief, at her touch his lids flickered open to reveal dazed eyes.

Since Nick apparently hadn't called for help, she unhooked her walkie-talkie from her belt. "Patrick, what happened?"

Her voice seemed to focus his attention. "Kate, look out," he whispered. "N...Nick..."

She whipped up her head to see that Nick was coming at her. "Your turn, Katie," he said with regret.

Donovan gasped, "Go!"

She scrambled up, but by the time she was on her feet, Nick had wrenched the radio from her grasp and was shoving a small black instrument toward her abdomen.

Donovan flailed out and caught Nick's ankle. "R...run, Kate!"

Cursing, Nick yanked free of Donovan's grip easily, but the brief interruption gave Kate time to put a dozen feet between herself and her cousin. "Nick, what the hell are you doing?"

"Correcting Sam's will. Your ex is recovering surprisingly fast. Must be his protective instincts. This should slow him down again." He jammed the device into Donovan's belly, holding it there for a dozen heart beats. Donovan made a ghastly sound and went completely limp again.

Nick straightened, expression grim. "Don't bother trying to run, cousin. This is one game of hide and seek you're not going to win."

He tossed her radio aside. "A pity you and Donovan wandered in before I could finish loading that column, but the fault is really Sam's. He shouldn't have left PDI to someone who wasn't family. Christ, Donovan hadn't even been his son-in-law for ten years!"

Kate backed away, horrorstruck. Dear God, it was
Nick
who had been harassing PDI! He had the skills and the opportunities to create trouble, and if she understood him correctly, he also felt he had a motive. Why hadn't she suspected him earlier?

Because it was hard--almost impossible--to believe that someone she'd known her whole life could be so wicked. "Did you cause the blast that killed Sam?"