Free Body Parts (Rye & Claire 1) by Kit Crumb

the ambulance and along the
road until they were next to the Fiat. They unstrapped him, placed his
body behind the wheel, fastened his seat belt, started the engine,
placed it in neutral and rolled the sports car over the embankment.
    Chapter Twelve
    It was a hollow echo of a voice that drifted up out of the depths of the well.
    “I’ve found her, I’m going to need a second line.”
    Paul dropped to the edge of the well and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Is she alright?”
    “She seems fine, drop me that line.”
    A child’s toneless humming drifted down to Claire as she watched a weighted line descend, and began to sing along.
    “And if that horse and cart fall down, you’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town.”
    When she turned to glance at Amy, the little hand was reaching for the rope again.
    Claire lurched forward. “Amy,
no!” Thrusting her arm out as she shot her feet against the opposite
wall, she propelled herself toward the child.
    Amy’s bottom slipped to the
edge of the ledge as she stretched for the rope. As if in slow motion,
the ledge crumbled and the little girl seemed to hang in thin air as if
waiting for Claire to rescue her.
    Fingers that had thrown a
thousand punches, connected to hands that had done a hundred pushups,
wrapped around a pudgy little wrist and with one yank a cold and scared
little six year old was pulled to Claire’s chest. With two muddy arms
wrapped around her neck, Claire encircled Amy’s waist with her other
hand and for just a minute they swung back and forth at the end of the
rope.
    “Claire, can you hear me? What’s going on?” Rye shouted.
    “I have her, pull me up.”
    With adrenaline born of
success the two men began to pull, reeling Claire and Amy toward
freedom. With inches to go, Paul fell to his stomach at the edge of the
well.
    “Daddy!” Two little arms shot up, fingers clenching open and closed. “Daddy!”
    Paul grabbed his daughter in both arms and pulled her to him as he rolled away from the edge.
    Claire reached a shaky hand
up and over the edge. Rye came to her aid, grabbing her arm and reaching
down for the back of the harness, then pulling her up with a grunt. The
two fell to the ground.
    Claire pushed up to her hands and knees and crawled away from the well, shaking and retching.
    Chapter Thirteen
    Rosie drove onto the film site at
six the next morning; she liked to watch the production day begin. The
catering truck was just arriving; the driver got out and opened the
side. Climbing into the back he started the coffee and put out a dozen
doughnuts along with some yogurt and orange juice chilled in ice. He
noticed Rosie watching.
    “Good morning, Miss Rehnquist. Get you anything?
    She hired the driver as an extra once and was tempted, but thought better of it. She had other business to attend to.
    She gave a friendly wave. “No thanks, Mario.”
    Everything from the truck was free; it was part of Rosie’s plan to keep her actors happy.
    She sat in the director’s
chair and watched the cameramen set up, and then checked her watch. She
still had some time before the actors started arriving.
    The stage manager and two
gofers started putting together the sets, assembling three-sided
bedrooms, arranging furniture in the living rooms according to the
storyboards. Watching all the activity that went into just getting ready
for a production always fascinated Rosie even though she’d seen it a
thousand times. This morning though, she was on the set to solve a
problem.
    It had started with notes
from the director that one of the male actors was abusing the women
during the shoot, several of whom had quit. Rosie had never seen the
problem actor; she’d enjoyed watching the sex when both actors were
enjoying it. That happened seldom enough, there always seemed to be some
kind of complication that involved multiple takes, something everyone
hated.
    The actors provided valuable
revenue to the other