Hell Rig (13 page)

“You do that pretty well,” Lisa offered, watching his stitch work over his shoulder.

Her presence unnerved him. He could not help but notice how attractive she was, but he had a job to do. “I’ve had a bit of practice,” he replied.

“Medical training?”

“Not really. I was with Red Adair’s crew after the first Gulf War putting out oil fires in Kuwait. There were a few accidents and not many medics around. We tended to our own wounds.”

“Kuwait. Is that where you learned about fires?” she asked.

Mac glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
Was she just fishing or did she know something
? “I learned how to put them out,” he answered. “My crew put out forty-two wells in twenty days.”

“That’s better than two per day,” Lisa said.

He looked up at her and smiled. “Not bad work, eh?”

“So why are you working as a laborer?”

He knew he had to be careful with her. She was intelligent and observant. He shrugged. “Change of pace. Therapy, maybe.”

“Therapy?”

“Sometimes when you boss a crew under stress, you get caught up in the moment. We were under a lot of pressure over there. We went in as friends but when I came home, I had no friends left. Maybe I pushed too hard. I don’t know. Now, I try to work alone.”

He was not sure why he was admitting even this much to Lisa. She was likable, but she worked for Ed Harris. If she suspected his charade, he might be playing into her hands. He hadn’t lied, really. He enjoyed working alone and he didn’t mind grunt work. It freed his mind to remember poetry he had thought long forgotten.

“
The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence, but in the mastery of his passion
,” he quoted.

“What?”

He smiled at her confused look. “Alfred Lord Tennyson. It just means I like what I do.”

“Investigating fires?”

He shook his head in surprise. “What makes you think that?”

“Tolson saw the book you were reading back on shore.”

“Ah, yes. I see where he might… No. I’m not an insurance investigator on a secret mission. I do investigate fires, but for the Shreveport Fire Department. I’m an arson investigator. I took the job after the Gulf War. Oil well fires didn’t seem much of a challenge anymore.”

“Arson investigator?”

“Yes, but that’s not why I’m here, at least not for an insurance company.”

McAndrews took a deep breath to keep his emotions under control. “My brother died here. I, I didn’t like the insurance company’s report. I couldn’t see one man overpowering so many others. It just didn’t seem believable.”

“You suspect what—a conspiracy?”

He smiled as Lisa looked at him with suspicion. “I don’t know what I suspect. I came out here for answers and so far all I’ve got are more questions.”

“You don’t believe Waters’ story, do you?” she asked in surprise.

“I didn’t. Now, who the hell knows?” He pointed to her charm. “You believe in voodoo?”

“Not really. My grandmother…it’s a long story, but no, I don’t.”

“Maybe you should.”

Lisa moved closer to him. He shifted a little uneasily. He could smell her perfume beneath the odor of cleaning solution and grease. “What do you mean?” she whispered.

He decided to come clean with her. For some reason, he trusted her. “Waters couldn’t have killed Bale. I was awake watching him when Bale died.”

He saw Lisa’s face turn a shade paler as the significance of his words hit home.

“Then who? Easton?” Her apprehensive glance around said she now suspected everyone, maybe even him.

“No, Easton went out and was back in five minutes, not enough time to kill a man and string him up like that. I don’t know who yet. That’s what I intend to find out.” He paused a moment. “The only one who left his room for any length of time was Sims.”

“Sims? Why didn’t you tell the others?”

“I don’t know. I asked him later where he was and he said he was taking a smoke.” He shook his head. “Besides, Sims was only gone a few minutes. When Gleason whacked Waters, I figured with Waters out of the way the person responsible might let down his guard. There was no need to tell them yet.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Tolson said, walking over to them, smiling down at Lisa suggestively. “Anything I’d like to get in on?”

“Discussing Gleason’s condition,” Lisa said without missing a beat.

Tolson looked at McAndrews’ handiwork. “How is the big clodhopper?”

“Still out cold,” he answered. “It’ll be touch and go until the ship gets here.”

Tolson nodded at Easton, sleeping on his bunk above Gleason. “What about him?”

“I gave him a sedative earlier. He’s sleeping. He had a bad fright. I think he’ll be okay when he wakes up. It would be best if we could get both of them out of here on the ship.”

“That won’t be until tonight,” Tolson reminded them. “We’re all stuck here until then.”

“Waters is tied up and locked away,” Lisa said. “We’ll be safe.”

“Yeah,” McAndrews agreed but for some reason, he didn’t feel as safe as he should.

Chapter Eleven

Lisa volunteered to remain with Gleason and Easton while the rest of the crew continued to work. They had six hours of daylight left and could not afford to waste any of it. McAndrews loaded sand for Jeff as Jeff ruthlessly attacked the rust, using the sand blaster as a machine gun to shoot down his self-doubt. Did he let his mind wander even just a little while at the crane’s controls? Did he just imagine the sudden chill and vibration? No, he was not to blame. The cold was real. The vibration was real.
Something
took control of the crane, something malevolent.

Tolson and Sims took turns sweeping and disposing of the used sand while Ed followed behind them spraying primer on the freshly cleaned areas. It was an assembly line approach designed to save time and by nightfall, they had managed to finish half the main deck. It was beginning to look more like a real working platform, but they still needed more hands for the job.

“Sorry I was so hard on you, Towns,” McAndrews, lighting a cigarette as he helped Jeff remove his protective gear. “Nerves I guess.”

Jeff was glad McAndrews had finally spoken to him. Even with the continuous noise of the sand blaster, the silence between them had been palpable. “Thanks. It’s not your fault. From your viewpoint what else could you think, but I swear the crane went crazy.”

“How do you explain it?”

He thought of Sims but decided against accusing him. He had no proof. “I can’t. How do you explain anything else that’s going on out here?”

McAndrews blew out a cloud of smoke and nodded. “I see what you mean. Do you think Waters is responsible?”

Jeff shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s crazy but I can’t help think of him as just another victim in all this.”

McAndrews glanced at him with one eye shut. “You believe that Digger Man bullshit?”

“I don’t know.” Jeff answered truthfully and that was what scared him most. “Lisa told me that you know Waters didn’t kill Bale. I believe you. Bale worked out every day. He was buff. Waters could have messed with the crane and there’s an old intercom to the landing deck. It isn’t working now but Waters could have used it to scare Sid with a scream and then disable it, but hang Bale like a piece of meat? No, I can’t see him doing it.”

“You don’t sound entirely convinced.”

Jeff snickered. “All I know is that it’s still broad daylight and I’m scared shitless.” He nodded at McAndrews’ cigarette. “Maybe you had better put that out. All we need is a gas fire.”

McAndrews nodded, dropped the cigarette to the deck and crushed it beneath his boot heel.

“Well, bite my ass. Look who’s here?” Tolson exclaimed loudly from across the deck.

They turned to see Easton shuffling toward them. He seemed sheepish and subdued, not the same ebullient, loud-mouthed punk they knew. He carried a shovel with both hands that he kept tapping nervously against the deck like a blind man’s cane.

“You feel better?” Jeff asked.

Easton nodded. “Yeah. I guess I lost my head last night.” He rubbed his uncombed dark hair and looked sheepishly at Ed Harris. “Sorry Ed. I, uh…”

Ed forced a smile. “It’s okay, son. Something spooked you.”

Easton’s face clouded for a moment. His eyes darted around the deck. “Yeah. I can’t remember now.”

“Something about Bale,” Sims prompted with a smile.

Easton glared at Sims, his fists twisting the handle of the shovel as if it was Sims’ neck. “Screw you, Sims.”

Tolson laughed. “Now that’s the Sid I remember.”

“I’m here to help,” Easton said, breaking eye contact with Sims.

Ed used his best ‘I’m the boss’ voice and said, “Good. Help Mac clean the spray paint rig. We’ll take a break for dinner and continue late into the night. We’ve got work to do.”

The main deck and buildings were finished. Most of the inside and outside walls were primed. The cellar deck, landing deck and lower stairwells remained. They would tackle the cellar deck last. With its warren of pipes and maze of equipment, it would be the most difficult to complete. Luckily, the refurbishing crew would replace most of the rusted pipes and equipment, so they needed only pump out the water, clean the deck and the pump rooms. It was still a daunting task but Jeff knew they could do it. It would take a lot of man-hours in sweat and toil, but the bonus would be worth it.

He could make close to two thousand dollars on this job. Even after taxes, that was a good chunk of change. If he could abstain from a drinking binge with the others, he would have enough for a down payment on a new Mustang. Well, not new, it was a year old, but it had only one driver and less than 10,000 miles on the odometer. Red, with chrome wheels and black racing stripes—it was a real beauty. He had eyed it for weeks. Maybe he would use it to pick up Lisa for their first date.

She had been on his mind a lot lately. He hardly knew her but liked what he had discovered about her so far. She was pretty, smart and reliable. She was a league above most of the girls he knew. Most of them were just after a night out on the town, some sex as a reward and nothing more. It used to be enough but he was changing. Maybe it’s called growing up, a thing he had fought hard against for a long time. It was too early to consider settling down, but if he did, he liked to think that maybe it would be with a girl like Lisa.

They finished cleaning up. It would be too difficult to paint at night using the electric light stands. The lights usually attracted moths that wound up plastered in the newly painted surfaces. Strangely, there were no moths around. They would finish painting the inside walls of the other buildings. Sand blasting and priming outside would wait for daylight. As they were putting away the equipment, Lisa burst from the building and ran across the platform, looking frantic.

“Waters is gone!” she yelled.

Jeff felt a lump form in his throat.

Chapter Twelve

“How?” Ed asked.

Lisa shook her head as she took a deep breath to calm down. “I don’t know. I went to feed him and saw the door was open. I looked in and he was gone. His bonds were lying on the floor still tied. I ran out.”

“Son of a bitch,” Tolson said. “We should have let Big Clyde kill the bastard.”

“We have to find him,” Jeff said. He felt a shiver at the thought of Waters running around loose, murderer or not.

“This time we kill him,” Tolson demanded.

“No,” McAndrews cautioned. “He didn’t kill Bale. I was watching him all night. I didn’t trust him so I kept an eye on him.”

Tolson glared at him. “Thanks for letting us know.” His face lit up as McAndrews’ words hit home. “Hey! If he didn’t, then who the hell did?”

“Not one of us?” Lisa protested.

“I don’t know,” McAndrews admitted. “I saw no one else leave except Easton and Sims, but Easton came back just a few minutes later and woke up Ed. Sims was gone a little longer.”

“Sid couldn’t kill Bale,” Jeff said. “He’s not strong enough.”

“I ain’t killed nobody,” Easton called out in agreement.

McAndrews shrugged. “I agree, but who then?”

They looked at each other for a moment.

“Let’s go look for Waters. It’s almost dark,” said Ed.

Jeff glanced around the platform, noticing Ed was right. He checked his watch. It was still an hour until sunset but the sky was rapidly growing darker. The sky had taken on the bruised flesh purple of an approaching storm and he noticed a fog bank rolling in, blocking the sun. It was also getting much colder. He remembered the sudden chill in the crane cabin and shivered.

“We had better hurry,” he said. “I think a storm’s coming.”

“That’s all we need,” huffed Tolson.

After half an hour searching, they declared the helideck, the landing deck and the main deck clear. Waters could have been hiding amid piles of rubble or under some cabinet in an office, but Jeff doubted it. Waters didn’t want to hide. He was up to something, prowling the deck unseen and unheard.