Page 45 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

“What’s that?”

Suddenly there was a sharp crack—a sound that seemed to slice through Gideon’s heart, making his nerves leap. It echoed around the site as everyone froze. The plank beneath Frank’s feet snapped, and he dropped like a stone. Gideon’s breath caught as he saw the man plummet, but his fall was saved by the scaffolding on the level below. That, thank God, had been made with the correct wood and was strong. Still, poor Frank bellowed, clutching his arm.

“Bloody hell!” Ludlow barked, his hands going to his hair as if he would tear it out.

Gideon was moving before conscious thought kicked in, finding himself beside Frank a bare second before Ludlow reached him.

“Frank?” he said, breathless from the climb as he inspected the man whose arm was bleeding.

“I’m right enough,” the fellow said, though he was white as alabaster. “Bloody splinter stabbed me good, though.”

Gideon winced as he saw the great splinter of wood from the broken plank as it protruded through the skin of his right arm. “Chin up, Frank. We’ll get you patched up good as new.”

He turned to Ludlow, “Get some men to help him down, and get this pile of shit off my bloody site.”

“Yes, sir, Mr Bramwell,” Ludlow said with a nod. “With pleasure.”

Gideon climbed down to give the men room to move and stood brooding over the pile of wood as the men helped carry Frank down. Ludlow came to stand beside him and Gideon looked around.

“This isn’t what I paid for. Someone’s been cheating us, Ludlow. I promise you, I’ll get to the bottom of it. I’ll not have the men risking their necks to save a few coins on my site.”

Ludlow nodded, drawing Gideon aside. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Mr Bramwell, but the thing is, there’s more.” The man hesitated, and Gideon knew what it cost him to speak up. The men trusted their manager, who was the bridge between them and Gideon, and he might be dropping one of them into trouble. But today’s accident had been too close. It might have taken a man’s life if they’d not been lucky. If that wound got infected, it still might.

“Tell me,” Gideon said darkly, resigned to the worst now.

Ludlow sighed, taking his hat off and rubbing an angry hand through his closely shaven hair before slapping his hat back on. “I don’t know. P’rhaps it’s something and nothing. But there’s little things. Stuff goes walkabout. An order is a bit short. A pay-packet is a penny or two light. On their own, it don’t amount to much.”

“But when viewed as a whole.”

“Aye,” Ludlow’s tone was grim.

Anger, cold and hard, settled in the pit of Gideon’s stomach. “Do me a favour. Say nothing of this to the men. The delivery was a mistake, the order got messed up. No one’s fault. Got it?”

Ludlow’s expression darkened. “I ain’t about to hush it up, if that’s what you’re driving at.”

“Neither am I, Mr Ludlow, but if I’m to find the villain who did this, and prove it, I need more than suspicion and surmise. I need evidence.”

Relieved, the man nodded his understanding. “In that case, aye. I’ll keep mum. For now, but don’t hang about. I’ll not have the men working under such conditions.”

“Understood,” Gideon replied, holding out his hand to the man. Ludlow looked at it, a little surprised at the gesture, but took Gideon’s hand in an iron grip.

It seemed as if disaster had been averted. The knowledge that this had been a near thing, that someone was cheating him, struck hard. He did everything he could to be fair to the men, to give them the best working environment, to help them do their best work. Leading such a project was always tricky, for the man in charge could never be a friend those beneath him, but he’d thought he was on excellent terms with everyone. It appeared not.

And now, Gideon had a thief to catch.

“Deon!”

Gideon cursed as he heard his brother’s voice. He was hot and dirty and the accident on site had put him in a foul mood. The day had become sultry, making everyone sweaty and short-tempered. That he’d been forced to share an office with a man he suspected might be a crook had done nothing to ease his mind. Ridley had been full of apologies, apparently confounded by the mistake in the delivery and blaming the supplier.

How it had gone to the wrong supplier was something he could not answer to Gideon’s satisfaction.

“Deon, hold up!”

“What?” he demanded tersely, stopping in the middle of the street as Damian hailed him.

“Christ, what did I do now?” Damian asked, stopping a few feet away and regarding his stony expression curiously.

Gideon sighed, rubbing a wear hand over his face. “Nothing. At least not that I know of,” he qualified, wondering what the man wanted. “Just a bad day.”