“Who’s in charge of putting the crane together?”
“The crane operator directs a team.”
“Rick said OSHA investigated. What was the official cause of the accident?”
“Inadequate bearing capacity due to rain from the previous day, and inappropriate weathervane into the wind.”
“Can I look at the investigation reports?” I don’t know very much about any of this, even after Beau explaining what happened and why it did, but I still believe if the truck balanced out the framework, it should not have fallen over as quickly as it did.
Beau narrows his eyes at me. “Does Rick know you’re here?”
I wince. “Not exactly. He told me to leave it alone.”
“The last thing he should have told her,” Talia says, stepping around Beau and elbowing me in the arm.
“I can’t help it,” I say irritably. “If nothing’s funky, then us looking around shouldn’t cause anybody any problems.”
Beau scratches the back of his neck looking handsomely undecided.
Talia swoons by my side, and I return her painful jab.
“What the hell,” he says, planting his hands on his narrow hips and glaring at us. “I can set you up in Rick’s office. Look over what you want. When I’m ready to leave, I’ll drive you out there.”
I blink. “Drive us out where?”
“To the site.”
“You mean he hasn’t done anything with it? It’s still sitting there after all this time?”
“That’s what I mean. Even the crane is there. You can poke around until your heart’s content. It’ll be good for me to look around. I called Rick a couple days ago, while you were there, incidentally, and told him Declan Everett wants to buy it. He either needs to clean it up and do something with it, or sell it. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
That’s not likely, but I say, “I appreciate it.”
“Come on.”
Beau asks his assistant to bring the boxes full of the paperwork pertinent to the investigation to Rick’s office.
Talia and I follow him, leaving our jackets in his.
“Where are you ladies staying tonight? You’re not driving back to. . .?”
“Portland. No. Talia made us reservations at a hotel not far from our old apartment.”
“Don’t waste money on that. Stay with me. I have a guest room with a king if you don’t mind sharing a bed.” Beau opens an office door with Rick’s name etched into a placard placed at eye level. His office is a mirror image of Beau’s, but it feels abandoned. “I would offer you Rick’s penthouse, but I don’t have access to it, and he hasn’t been in it since Renata left him.”
I step into Rick’s office and glance at Talia who shrugs but has a grin on her face that could light up Cedar Hill for a month. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.”
“Well, I do have an ulterior motive,” he says, gesturing at his assistant and her helper who sets the large cardboard storage boxes on the same small conference table that Beau has in his. “I want to keep an eye on you. I know the muck you raked up with Stevie Johansson. I don’t want you out there by yourself.”
“Let’s...not talk about that.”
“I’ll take care of it. Is there anything else?”
“Not that I can think of,” I say, looking around Rick’s office.
“Okay. Let my assistant know if you need something, or if you have a question, I’ll be in my office. Door’s always open,” he says, winking at Talia who fangirls as he steps into the hallway.
He closes the door behind him, and I say, “Seriously?”