6. Jedd
JEDD
The shop is chaos. Paramedics, the fire department, and an ambulance are parked in front of the garage, and water streams out, pooling in some areas and draining down the sidewalk toward the sewer in others.
Harlan and I vault out of his department SUV and split off—him toward his deputies and me toward the ambulance.
A crowd of people are stopping and rubbernecking at the mayhem that is my place of business.
“Let me through, please,” I say to one of the people standing on the sidewalk before shouldering my way past them.
Billy, one of the paramedics, sees me and waves me over.
Laying on a gurney in the back of the ambulance is Clancy. His collarbone has stabbed through the skin of his chest. He’s covered in blood and grease, and my breath backs up in my lungs.
“What happened?” I ask through a tight throat.
Clancy’s eyes are bleary either from pain or the meds that the paramedics gave him. But his gaze finds mine as he takes a deep breath.
“Not completely sure. I was working on the brakes for the GMC and saw a spark out of the corner of my eye from the trouble corner. It caught some grease and there was a little fire starting. I tried to get to the extinguisher before the suppression system kicked on and bumped the emergency release for the lift. It clipped my shoulder on the way down and broke my collarbone before the safety caught it.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Goddamn fucking shit.
About three weeks ago, one of our electrical outlets started throwing sparks when we tried to plug anything into it. I told the guys to leave it alone and called an electrician out to look at it, but they were booked solid, and I haven’t managed to get anyone out here.
I turn toward the paramedic. “He going to Caribou Memorial?”
He nods. “Yeah. He asked to wait a minute for you to get here, but we’re leaving now.”
“I’m sorry, boss. I tried …”
I wave him quiet. “I know, Clancy. Not your fault. I don’t want you worrying about this. Go get your shoulder fixed, and I’ll swing by to see you once I’m done dealing with this. You call Angel yet?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I don’t want her to worry.”
Knowing how fast news spreads in this town, I say, “Let me call her for you. I’ll let her know what happened, and she can meet you at the hospital.”
“Thanks, Jedd.”
I nod at Clancy and dial his wife as the ambulance pulls away. She picks up on the third ring. I quickly tell her what happened and reassure her that he’s okay, and it feels like only seconds later, she’s hung up and is headed to the hospital. I’d lay money that she beats the ambulance there.
Stepping past people, I move into the garage to survey the damage.
The McHoney’s GMC is still on the lift, partially raised in the air.
It seems fine, but I’ll take a closer look at it later.
The left side of the bay is trashed from the force of the water, but there doesn’t seem to be much more damage than that. But this place is a wet, soggy wreck.
Rhett steps past his fire captain and starts my way. “Hey. You okay?”
I shake my head. I’m not okay. I’ve never had an employee get hurt beyond the perpetually scraped knuckles that mechanics are known for from bashing their hands against metal.
“Clancy’s gonna be fine. They’ll set his shoulder and give him some pain meds. He might have to do some physical therapy, but the break should heal in about six to twelve weeks.”
I nod.
“And I already texted the guys. We’ll come over after we get done with our shifts for the day and help you get this straightened up. Duke said that you have to rearrange for the new inspection requirements anyway, so we can knock out two birds with one stone.”
I nod again. Not able to put together a string of words to form a sentence.
“Jedd.” The voice behind me has the hair on the back of my neck raising.
I turn to find Samson behind me with a man I don’t know.
“Samson,” I say and eye the stranger.
“This is Jeffrey Michaels. He’s the new supervising inspector for the county.”
I step forward and offer my hand for a shake. Jeffrey eyes my hand for a beat before taking it.
“Nice to meet you. Sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
He pushes his thin-framed glasses up, and even though he’s shorter than me, he seems to look down his nose at me.
My nerves skyrocket.
“Mr. Calhoun. There was an incident here this morning?”
Goddamn small towns.
Normally, if there’s an injury that requires reporting, we file our report and then someone comes out, but with all the commotion this morning, it’s no surprise that I have the county inspector and his supervisor on my metaphorical doorstep.
“Yeah. One of my employees noticed a spark from an electrical outlet and accidentally bumped the emergency release on the car lift when trying to reach an extinguisher. He was injured and is being transported to the hospital. The fire suppression system kicked on, but I haven’t had a lot of time to look over everything or file a report yet. ”
He sniffs. “I understand that things are chaotic at this time. But unfortunately, you’ll have to close your shop pending an investigation and inspection.”
What?
He’s shutting me down?
My chest tightens, making it hard to breathe. I’ve never once in my life been shut down.
Warnings? Sure. That comes with running a growing business in a too-small place with ever-changing regulations.
But I’ve never put my employees or customers at risk, so the most I’ve ever dealt with is a warning.
“You’re shutting him down?” Rhett’s tone is as incredulous as my whirling thoughts.
“I’m afraid so,” he says with a perfectly straight face. There’s not an ounce of sympathy in his expression.
He doesn’t give a damn that this is my job.
This is how I pay my bills. This shop is how my employees pay their bills and put food on the table.
This is where my customers bring their cars when they need servicing.
They trust me to keep their cars in good shape and safe for them to transport their families in.
And this asshole is just pulling the plug on it?
What. The. Fuck.
Voices penetrate the shocked fog that has come over me, and I look at Samson. He winces when my glare cuts to him. He slightly shakes his head telling me that trying to fight this is a losing battle.
“How long?” I croak out the question.
“The investigation shouldn’t take more than a week. You’ll be able to reopen when you correct any issues the inspection finds. I can get that part done tomorrow,” Samson says.
Jeffrey shoots a glare his way, and Samson cuts a stern look back. It’s good to have company in hating the asshole, and Samson’s had my back for a long time in this regard.
“Samson, don’t be too hasty, you have a very full schedule …”
“I’ll make time to get the investigation and inspection done. Let me worry about my schedule, Michaels.” Samson’s tone is as immovable as compacted concrete.
Harlan catches my attention with a small wave.
“Excuse me for a minute,” I say, clinging to the manners my mama drilled into me.
Harlan winces when I reach him.
“Look. I know you’ve got a lot going on here. But Johansen let me know Andy is at the station.”
“Is she okay? What happened?” Adrenaline surges at the thought of her confronting her sister. With everything going on this morning, I haven’t had a chance to text or call her yet.
Harlan winces again. “Johansen said he took her back to talk to Alex and then he called me to let me know.”
Fuck.
The need to be with her rises like a tsunami, and I turn back to Rhett who looks like he’s arguing with Michaels and Samson.
I’m worried that Clancy’s hurt worse than we could see. I’m worried about the shop and how long it’s really going to be closed. I need to reschedule my service appointments for the foreseeable future, and I need to get the shop secured until we come back and clean up later.
Details run rampant through my brain, but the single shining thought I’m able to grab onto is that Andy needs me. Right now.
The shop. The inspection. All of that can wait. None of it means shit when she needs me.
“I’ve gotta go. Is she still at the station?”
“Yeah. I just hung up with Johansen, and he said they were yelling at each other.”
I yank my keys out of my pocket and pass them to Harlan. “Close up for me, please. Call Finch and see if he can come take a look at that fucking socket. And let them know they can reach me by phone or email.” I nod toward Samson and the new supervisor.
“I’ve got it. Go get your girl and keep me updated.”
My girl.
Does he know?
I look at my oldest brother and he cocks his eyebrow at me.
Knowingly.
Shit. My mask slipped again.
But unlike Maisie, I don’t think I can deny or delude Harlan into believing that Andy is only a friend to me.
Not with the frantic need to get to her when her life is in turmoil and mine is in shambles.
I don’t have time to dig into what my brother might or might not suspect.
Not right now.
Instead, I dart through the square toward the sheriff’s station, shouts from Samson and Rhett following me.
The station is a five-minute walk from the garage, and I make it in less than a minute. As I reach out to grab the handle, the door flies open and a body crashes into me. The familiar smell of spicy vanilla hits my senses before I see the red curls.
I grab her by the shoulders to stop her from stumbling back. “Whoa there, Mischief,” I say before I get a good look at her face.
Tear drenched eyes find mine. The red rimming them makes the green stand out brighter against the anguish I find there.
“Shit.”
She nods. “Yep. Pretty much.”
I shove down the surge of adrenaline and stress. I need to be calm for her.
“What happened?” I ask before I think better of it. “Wait. No. Come on.”
“Wait. Stop.” She points at the garage and the firetruck sitting out front. “What the hell is going on over there?”
“Clancy got hurt and there was a small fire.” I try to pull her with me, but she digs her heels in.
“What? Explain.”