TRIXIE
T rixie didn’t need a man to pat her on the head and tell her she’d done a good job, so she was miffed with herself for wishing that the security professional would praise her for her camera placement and her foresight to lock it up, even if the footage had been ultimately unhelpful.
Was he so interested in the wolf because he was clearly from out of state and not accustomed to wildlife?
“I saved the duct tape there, in case you could… I don’t know, lift fingerprints off it or something?”
“We’re not the police,” the man from Grizzly Protection growled. “We don’t have access to a fingerprint database. Did you call the cops?”
He hadn’t introduced himself, but Trixie guessed he was the Hunter that had been mentioned on the phone call.
He didn’t look like a hunter. He looked like a bodyguard .
He ought to be lurking behind a celebrity on the red carpet, not poking around a rural worksite, even if he did have a mountain man beard.
“I did call the troopers,” she said, with determined cheer.
“But it’s a one-man office in Tok. They said they’d file the report, but that they had more important things to do. ”
“Who works for you?” Hunter paced the perimeter of the building, ducking under the temporary cross-bracing.
“The guys should be back in about half an hour,” Trixie said, looking at her watch. “They’re a good lot, all locals. I hate to suspect any of them.”
“Were you here at the time?” Hunter asked, with a glance towards Trixie’s trailer.
“I was gone with the trailer when the compressor was stolen,” Trixie said. “I was out refilling the propane and water tanks. I was here when the generator was fouled, probably asleep. I’m a light sleeper and would have heard them driving up, so they must have been on foot.”
Hunter gazed up. The first panel of subfloor had been attached on the joists above, giving some hint about the final space.
He neither agreed with Trixie nor refuted her, walking to the edge to eye the gap between the limits of excavation and the building.
The pit walls were straight up and down.
Anyone trying to scramble down and then climb up the basement wall would have left scuff and scrabble marks in the soil.
Trixie figured that someone had used a ladder or boards to bridge the gap, but she didn’t see any evidence of it.
Hunter walked around the building again, glaring out at the clearing.
“This is the shortest place they might have come over,” Trixie offered, when he didn’t volunteer any suggestions.
“But there’s no sign of anything in the dirt there.
It’s a little scuffed up now, sorry, but I took some photos before we got back to work the next day.
” She started to show him her photo roll, but Hunter ignored her and knelt to peer down into the pit.
“Where were the items?” he asked when he flowed back up to his feet. For such a big guy wearing a suit, he moved really gracefully.
Trixie showed him where the equipment was now.
“The compressor was stolen before we had the subfloor down. It was right below us, covered with a tarp for the night. The generator was right here. One strong guy might have gotten the compressor out by himself, and anyone could have added water to the generator.”
“What do you use the compressor for?” Hunter asked.
Trixie stared at him. “You don’t know what a compressor is for?”
“Filling up… tires?” he guessed, looking uncomfortable. There were clearly no tires around.
Trixie took pity on him. “We use it to run the tools. The nail gun and the impact wrenches.”
“Those don’t use the generator?”
How clueless was this guy? It was a good thing he had looks going for him.
“We use the generator to compress the air in the compressor,” Trixie explained simply.
“Then we use compressed air to drive the tools.” She picked up a nail gun, racked a row of nails, and demonstrated on an exposed stud.
The nail went in with a whoosh and a thud , buried flush.
“It’s quieter than running the generator all the time and these tools are stronger and more efficient.
That kind of force takes a lot of instantaneous power, which a lot of electric tools can’t handle.
It’s safer on a jobsite than having a lot of electric wires running everywhere, too. ”
Hunter didn’t seem to take offense at her explanation, just frowned and nodded.
“So…?” Trixie said, when Hunter didn’t have a reply.
“So, what?” Hunter looked like he was having a very different conversation at the same time.
“So, is the camera no good? Is the insurance company right that I was negligent? Do I need to pay out for a higher end system? I need to get this place enclosed before the snow flies or I’m probably going to lose the contract, so I can’t mess around with things.
Just give me the bad news and let’s move forward.
I cannot afford to lose anything else without recourse. ”
Hunter scowled ferociously at her. Why would he take offense at that ?
Trixie sighed. Men were fragile creatures sometimes, and she didn’t understand why she couldn’t just have a conversation with one without having to pet their ego.
“I’m sure you know what I should have done, let’s just do it and be done. ”
“You did all right,” Hunter said unexpectedly. “It’s probably one of your crew.”
Trixie felt her hackles rise. “I trust my crew.”
“You shouldn’t.” Oh, there was the I-know-better that Trixie had been expecting. “I’ll figure out which one it is.”
“By force?” Trixie had to laugh. “I mean, okay, Columbo, but I told the office I couldn’t afford to hire an on-site guard and I didn’t know you did investigations. I just need you to sign off on the camera or sell me a new one.”
Hunter’s gaze was surprisingly intense. “I won’t charge you,” he said. “I’ll get to the bottom of this and you won’t be out anything. It’s a… personal project.”
Trixie was pretty sure her eyebrows reached her hardhat. “A personal project?” Was he hitting on her? Was there some long con here? “Look…”
“Hire me on as an extra hand.” Hunter’s voice gave her no sort of choice.