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ChapterSixteen
Beau
The late morning sun spilled through the slats of his bedroom blinds. There was no reason to rise early. There was nothing to do at the site until he heard from the lab. He skimmed his hand over the empty side of the bed. Bobbie had left early because she had class and some errands to run. She was vague about her tasks, but he wasn't too concerned since the site was closed down. Short of burning down the building, there wasn't much she could do that he had to concern himself about.
He contacted several asbestos abatement companies and got ballpark figures in case the results returned positive. At an average cost of sixty dollars per square foot, a cleanup project that size would run well over a million dollars. This wouldn't be a cheap undertaking. Another reason to doubt Aspen Construction was because the owners had a history of cutting corners.
Part of him wanted the results to come back negative because then he'd know that Pete Schiff had hired him because he was competent. If they came back positive, then he was hired because he was young, and Pete probably figured he could control him. Beau had lost control over many things in his life, but this wasn't something he'd add to the list.
As he dressed to head to the site, his phone rang. The test results were in and would be delivered to his office within the hour. When he arrived, he boxed up his belongings and set them in the corner just in case, and then he called Pete.
“Beau, what the hell do you want?” Pete's voice boomed so loud that Beau had to hold the phone away from his ear to avoid hearing loss.
“I need you here within the hour.” He didn't ask, and his voice didn't waver despite his nervousness. He was done letting people control him. He'd be fired if the tests returned in Aspen's favor. He'd just billed over two thousand dollars to their account, and once Pete knew he'd paid a crew for two days of work they didn't do, he was positive he'd get the boot, but at least he'd be ready. He would approach this crisis on his terms.
“You're getting mighty big to be bossing me around. First, you kick me off the site, and now you demand that I return? Who do you think you are?”
“I'm the guy running this show, Pete, the one making the decisions. Some big ones need to be made. Out of courtesy, I'm inviting you to take part.” He filed a few things away while he waited for his response. He'd made copies of the soil reports from the Parker job and stapled all three to the wall in a prominent position.
“You're pushing me ever so close to canning your ass. First, she punches me, and then you have the nerve to kick me out. Now you're demanding I reorganize my day for your benefit?”
“Come or not, it's up to you. We have a potential problem that could dig into your pocketbook. As your project manager, I'm keeping you in the loop.” He hung up before Pete could respond, but he had a feeling he'd show. He had scratched the surface of Pete's weakness—money.
Fifteen minutes later, the courier dropped off the results. Sitting at his desk, he stared at the envelope in front of him. No matter what was in it, his life was changing. He'd either be looking for a job or looking at a considerable cleanup project. Neither option was appealing.
He debated waiting for Pete to show but didn't want to give him the upper hand. The results belonged to Aspen Construction, and once they were in Pete's hands, Beau lost his edge. He stuck a pen in the tiny, unglued opening and tore the upper seam of the white envelope.
The original results from the filing cabinet sat on his desk. With asbestos and lead, there were no numbers. It was present or not because there weren't any levels considered safe.
The word negative was typed in big, bold letters on the original survey. On the new survey, positive was typed in big red letters. He walked to the fax machine and sent the latest report to the permits department and the OSHA office. Nothing could be left to chance.
The fire of anger reached his face. Pete had hired him to be his fall guy if the results were ever found. He'd ordered the initial tests, and Pete had insisted he take over the project immediately. Unbelievable.
He paced his office until the jerk showed up. It would have been easy to laugh at the two black eyes Pete sported, but there was no humor in this situation.
“Where's the crew?” Pete ducked his head back out the door and looked around.
“Paid vacation.”
“What the hell do you mean? We're on a tight timeline and budget. Get them back here, now.” Pete entered the room and leaned against the wall, where the Parker project surveys were stapled. He was singularly focused on the lack of activity at the site. Beau imagined he was thinking about the money and time he lost by not having the crew at work. “I have buyers lining up to purchase these lofts.” He brushed against one page, pulling it loose from its staple. It floated through the air and landed on Pete's expensive leather shoes.
When he picked it up, his entire demeanor changed. A red rash bloomed from his neck and rose to his balding hairline. “What the hell is this?” His beady eyes scanned the report. “You got these from that little slut.”
“Careful, Pete. You don't want to be talking about the mother of my future children that way.”
“You think you're so smart. They couldn't prove I knew about this beforehand. My last project manager was irresponsible, and he's paying for his callous disregard. Why the hell am I here?”
Beau slid his chair back and came to stand in front of Pete. The man's height was average, but Beau was bulky and tall, and his presence made many men cautious. He grabbed the stapler, picked up the two reports lying on his desk, and attached them to the wall.
Pete stared at them. If his face was red before, he was turning purple now. “Where did these come from?” He ripped the reports from the wall and tore them to shreds.
“I had them retest. I kept seeing a piece of vinyl that I could swear contained asbestos. It ate at me a bit, but then it was okay because we had the tests that proved we did our due diligence in protecting our workers and the future residents of this building.”
“That Cruise girl is at the center of this.” Pete pulled down the other test results and crumpled them into a ball. It didn't matter because copies had been made of everything. “I'm done with this. Get the hell out of my building. I can replace you in a heartbeat. There's always some young guy ready to leap. You were one in a long line of applicants. You got this job because Kyle said you would learn and listen.”
“Yes, I was willing, but I'm not willing to go to jail for you, and I'm not willing to shorten my crew's lives because you're cheap and irresponsible. You can fire me, but I wouldn't recommend it. Here's how this is going to play out.” Beau pulled a folding chair from the corner and shoved Pete toward it. “I've already sent the new report to several agencies. There is no way this project will go forward without proper abatement.”
Pete stood up quickly, upending the chair. “You little shit! That's going to cost at least a million.”
