Page 51 of Shark’s Rise

“McKenzie?” And of course he had committed the man’s name to memory, as well. I hired the best. I made friends with the best of the best. “Why is he calling you at home?”

“Apparently there is a body that needs to be dealt with at the site. In the pit where they’re prepping to pour the foundation.”

“Wait. What?” Within seconds, the man was back on his feet. “Hold up. Did you just say body? As in a dead human? Nooo. You did not just say—”

“I did.”

His shoulder sagged. He pushed out an exhausted grunt. “Did he say whether it was—”

“It’s a female. On the younger side.”

Banks dropped his head between his shoulders. “Of course it is.”

When we got to the job site, I was surprised to see how much activity was still going on at that hour. Workers milled around, all making a big show of looking even busier when they saw me approaching. Despite all that, Banks had ensured security was tight on the property since day one. Whomever was lying lifeless in the pit had to have checked in at the trailer before going on to meet her maker.

My friend greeted the guard on duty with an enthusiastic handshake and back smack. The officer called Bob McKenzie over a two-way radio.

“How do you know this guy?” I mumbled to Elijah while the walkie-talkie conversation took place.

“You think I let just anyone on this job site?” he replied at once. “The building’s too big and too important. I sat in on every interview myself. Every single one of these workers has been interviewed, screened, and then thoroughly investigated before being offered their jobs. If someone wasn’t qualified, seemed shifty, out of place, or just felt off in general, we passed them over.”

As he spoke, my gape of disbelief kept widening. “Don’t we have human resource people for things like that?”

He looked at me like I’d asked how gravity worked. “We had more applicants than we knew what to do with,” he explained. “The process was interminable, but it was one way to make sure we had the best crew here at all times, sharing a singular goal.” My buddy grew more passionate as he spoke. “Making this project the best it could be.”

If I were a more effusive, emotional man, I would have embraced him then. Instead, I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Thanks, man,” I uttered. “I mean it. And I probably don’t say it enough.”

I was saved from having to wax on with any more mush than that, as a thick-mustached man lumbered forward. I recognized him at once. It was tough to forget Bob McKenzie’s distinct style.

“Mr. Shark! Mr. Banks! So good to see you again.” Bob grinned. He was clearly the kind of guy who did that a lot. He looked like a good family man, the kind of guy who spoiled his grandkids and took his wife to Hawaii every other year.

“I’ll need you to put on these hard hats to go down to the site. OSHA and all. We don’t need them sniffing around the job. Once you get one of those inspectors interested in your project, you can’t shake them for the duration.” He made a face like he’d just smelled something foul.

“Better get some vests then too,” the security guard chimed in. “I think I have a few floating around here somewhere.” The guard shuffled through a cabinet and produced two caution orange safety vests and handed them to us.

Once we were appropriately outfitted, we headed out with Bob leading the way.

He pointed to a piece of paper jutting out of his shirt pocket. “The woman had this in her hand. It was crumbled so tight in her fist, she didn’t drop it when she fell. Still, that’s pretty incredible. Considering what it says, it might be a clue about who she is or why she was here. I didn’t want it blowing away or anything, so I grabbed it. I had my work gloves on, so there shouldn’t be any fingerprints.”

“That was smart thinking, Bob.” Elijah grinned at the guy.

“Hey, the Mrs. makes me watch CSI every damn night. It finally paid off!”

I pulled the handkerchief from my slacks and wrapped it around my fingers and then reached into Bob’s personal space and plucked the note from his pocket. We all stopped walking while I carefully unfolded the letter and read it. Elijah stretched his tall frame to read along with me.

This is all your fault. I hope you’re satisfied now.

After staring long and hard at the paper, Banks and I traded confused expressions. Bob finished speaking into his radio, informing the crew he was bringing us over to the pit, and then re-clipped it to his belt.

“The pit’s just up ahead. It’s…uhh, the b— Well, it’s over here.”

He motioned to the wide-open area in front of us. Bright spotlights lit up the area like a UFO was about to land in the deep crevice.

“She’s there off to the side, closest to the equipment,” Bob said. “So really, if she was a jumper, that’s all she could’ve jumped from. But I would think one of the guys would’ve seen her climbing up there. And given what she’s wearing? I mean, wouldn’t it be hard to climb an eighteen-ton Caterpillar in heels and a business suit?”

Another trade-off of puzzlement with Elijah, and then we were skidding down the bank of the pit, toward the intricate crisscross of two-by-fours that were helping to shape my building’s foundation. I was so close to chuckling at my friend, who openly cringed as the mud and dirt trashed his fancy loafers.

“Be careful here,” Bob cautioned from right behind us. “This rebar is sharp and rusty. If you get stuck with that and haven’t had a tetanus shot lately, you’ll be sitting in the ER all night waiting for one. And let me tell you, those sons of bitches hurt! Right in the ass!”