Free Old Chaos (9781564747136) by Sheila Simonson Page B

had found Peggy. He stayed with Beth—partly from affection, partly cowardice. He was afraid to know what had happened to Peggy.
    Whatever they’d given Beth had eased her pain and made her drowsy, but she was thinking enough to start to fuss. By the time the medics manhandled her stretcher down the metal staircase, she was in a fine state.
    “I’ll see that somebody calls your kids and Skip,” he promised. She’d said Skip had gone back to Portland.
    “And Mack. What about Mack? You said he was on the way to the hospital.”
    Rob’s throat tightened.
    “Is he hurt? How is he? We quarreled.” She was crying again. Rob hadn’t thought of Beth as a crier.
    He couldn’t speak.
    The paramedics picked up the stretcher—a gurney would have been useless on the uneven ground. Beth twisted her head with its turban-like bandage and glared up at him. “Tell me the truth!”
    He cleared his throat, stumbled on a broken tile, and regained his balance. “He’s hurt, Beth. I don’t know how bad it is. He shielded the baby.”
    She cried harder. “I wish we hadn’t quarreled.”
    Rob shoved aside his own guilt. When he had started the investigation, he’d been thinking in terms of correct police procedure. Common sense had taken a back seat. Meg was right. These people should have been warned, but there was plenty of blame to go around. When he thought of Drinkwater and the tame geologist, his hands itched.
    Beth drowsed now, murmuring Peggy’s name and Mack’s, like a litany.
    As they straggled up to the road, the young woman with the beagle bounded up to Rob. “Bat says to tell you Wienie found Ms. McCormick.”
    “I heard shouting.” Wienie must be the dog.
    “She’s trapped in bed with a beam across her chest, not conscious, but she’s still alive. Bat got to her!” Her face shone with hero worship. “Her pulse is strong.”
    “Thank you, uh—”
    “Mindy.”
    “Right. That’s Peggy’s mother in the ambulance. I’ll tell her the good news.” If Peggy was unconscious and trapped, it was mixed news at best.
    Mindy went happily off with the dog. Rob sent the three construction workers to see what they could do about freeing Peggy, then reassured Beth and sent her off, too. He called about ambulances. One was on the way. It sounded as if Earl was getting things organized at long last. Rob checked his watch. He told himself to be fair. It was seven-fifteen and barely light.
    It was just possible to see the extent of the slide. The Gautier house and Mack’s had taken the worst of the damage, but debris had rolled down around the two houses that lay to the east and on into the creek bed, which was dammed to about the height of a one-story house. The structures to the west looked untouched. Rob thought they were the ones no one had bought. Headlights bounced down the horse pasture on the south bank of the creek. He hoped the driver was an engineer, not just a sightseer.
    Rob caught Linda as she headed off with Jake and Todd toward the Gautier house. “Get your camera.”
    Her mouth formed an O of surprise.
    “Time to document property damage.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Crime scene.”
    “Believe it.” Among the defendants would be the County Board of Commissioners. He thought of Fred Drinkwater. If there were deaths, it might well be a murder case—at the very least wrongful death. On impulse, he called Judge Rosen and asked for search warrants for Drinkwater’s office and house. He wanted to document the approval process every step of the way. The judge was sleepy, shocked, and ultimately responsive.
    As Rob turned to go down to the McCormick house again, Charlie drove up in his camper, closely followed by another van full of rescue volunteers. They had brought digging tools and more hard hats. After he told them where to find Bat, Rob grabbed a hat for Charlie. It surprised him how glad he was to see his cousin.
    Charlie stared at him.
    Rob handed him the hat. “Did you call Kayla?”
    “Right