“Okay. I’ll write up a formal agreement for you to sign and bring it with me when I come back this afternoon. Might as well get started while I’m waiting for some back-ordered materials for another job.”
“You won’t quit halfway through my bookcases and leave a mess, will you? I really need my office. The new quarter starts soon.”
“No, I won’t quit until this job is finished. When I make a commitment, I keep it. You can count on me.”
When Steff sobered and quietly said, “I know,” the sound of her voice and the suddenly charged atmosphere within the cramped office made the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end.
It looked as though working when she wasn’t present was going to be more than advantageous, it was going to be critical. Especially if he hoped to finish the job and also keep what little was left of his sanity.
Stephanie had cleaned off her desk and draped a sheet of plastic over her computer station by the time Trevor returned.
“Do you want me to get lost or stay here?” she asked. “I’m curious to see what it looks like inside a wall, if you don’t think I’ll be in the way.”
“Suit yourself. Just don’t breathe the dust. I remember you used to have allergies.”
“I still do.”
“Then you’d better wear a disposable mask so you don’t sneeze yourself to death. There are extras in my toolbox. Help yourself. And hand me one, too, will you?”
He began spreading a tarp on the floor. “I doubt this will be very interesting. About all I usually find is abandoned wasp nests and dead mice.”
“Terrific.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the vermin. That’s what this tarp is for, to catch all the dirt.”
He put on one of the masks, took a pry bar and popped the baseboard off as if it were a toothpick. The wall itself proved more stubborn. Finally, he worked an opening large enough for a handhold, grabbed the plasterboard and gave it a yank. White powder filled the nearby air and made a cloud around his head.
Stephanie retreated. She’d never noticed how cramped her office was until she’d been shut in there with Trevor. She would have left then if he hadn’t had to close the door to gain access to the wall he was demolishing.
Trapped by circumstances she should knew she should have considered earlier, she waved her hands. “Phew! You weren’t kidding, were you?”
“I never kid about my work. You okay?”
“I suppose so.” It seemed a waste of time to just stand here and watch so she began to relieve him of the small, flat pieces of chalky board as he broke them loose. If Trevor was surprised, he gave no indication of it, although she suspected he might be grinning behind his mask.
“Where shall I pile all this trash?” she asked.
“Any place out of my way. Just keep it on the tarp. It’ll make cleanup easier.”
“Right.” She had dragged several slivers of board aside and was lifting a larger one when she stopped. “Trevor?”
Sweating in spite of the air-conditioning, he swiveled in her direction. “What? Did you find a dead mouse?”
“No. I don’t know what this is. It looks like writing of some sort.” Steff steadied the board fragment with one hand and used the other to brush away the powdery dust. “Do you think it’s important?”
“I doubt it. One of the men who built the original wall probably drew his initials for fun. My guys do it all the time. You know, like the old ‘Kilroy was here’ notes the soldiers used to leave during World War II. It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure? I mean, I’d like to be positive. It looks to me as if it was written by a small finger dipped in something. And look. Are these spatters of blood?”
“What?”
“Never mind. I don’t know why I said that. I guess these drops at the edges reminded me of blood.”
“Your imagination is working overtime, that’s all.”
“I suppose so.” Her brow knit as she studied her find. “Do you think this initial was meant to be a P or an R?”
He leaned closer and squinted. “Can’t tell. The way it kind of trails off at the end it could be either.”
“I know. I suppose we should notify the police, just in case, but my father is friends with the chief and if it winds up to be nothing important, as you say, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Plus, if there’s an investigation, your office may look like this for weeks or maybe even months while they poke around.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“It’s happened to construction projects more times than I care to remember,” Trevor said. “Now, forget that piece of trash and let me do my job. Okay?”
“Okay.” She pulled a face. “I know it’s foolish to cause a stir, especially since my father already acts as if he thinks he’s the only one capable of logical reasoning. I’ve been trying to prove myself to him since he first helped me get this job and I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever succeed.”
Trevor turned away to hide his reaction. Stephanie didn’t make any bones about the fact she’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Even now that they were both in their thirties, nothing had really changed between them. They might be professionals in their respective fields but he was still blue collar and she was still acting the part of royalty, a part she’d been born and raised to play. That was what had caused him to start teasing her by calling her Princess in the first place, back when she and his sister had been college roommates.
He gave a long, loud sigh. “Look, Princess, you do whatever you want with that old piece of plasterboard. Keep it or junk it or tie a ribbon around it and give it to Daddy as a gift. I couldn’t care less.”
“Don’t be absurd.” Steff rolled her eyes and arched her brows. “I told you, I have no intention of involving my father.”
Backing off, she studied the scrawled letter, then began to sort through the other rubble to see if she could find more writing. That one letter and its accompanying splatter seemed to be all there was, which was probably a good sign.
Now that she’d had time to think about it she supposed the marks could just as easily have been made with mud or paint or even chocolate, as dark brown as they were. Why she had assumed it might be blood puzzled her. Maybe she’d been reading too many mystery and suspense stories lately.
Of course. That had to be the reason. There was no need to preserve the board. After all, that wall had been built ages ago and if there had been any mayhem committed on campus her family would have known about it. Plenty of tales concerning the founding and growth of Magnolia College had been told and retold so often that she was sick of hearing them. None had involved bodily injury, unless a few broken bones on the football field counted.
