GraveDigger

Part 2

I'm going to try and post regularly onto this book every Friday. I am a grown-up with a real job though, so I can't make any guarantees, but I will do my best.

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Grace threw her leftover food wrappers into the passenger's side floorboard of her truck before jumping out. Boots crunched on the red clay dirt, sending up a powder that made her cough as it floated through the air around the entire work site. After a cursory glance from her currently unnoticed vantage point, everything seemed to be going quite well. No one was visibly slacking off, progress was being made, and no ambulances were needed thus far... which in itself was rather rare on one of these sites. Grace nodded to herself and went to find Scotty.

Scott McPherson was a red-headed, barrel-chested man who would one day make a great mall Santa Claus. He possessed kind bright blue eyes and a full beard, round stomach, and a big hearty laugh. For a long while, he had been the only person on earth who could bring even the slightest glimmer of a smile to Grace's face. Scotty was one of the first people to have any faith that she would be able to build and run this company. Early on he had thrown his full and unflinching support behind her.

"Hi, boss!" he greeted her, having his tool belt cinched low around his hips, fitting under his generous belly, eyes glittering when he saw her headed his way. One of the men at his side seemed confused by Scotty's words and his sweaty brow creased as he turned to observe the rest of the exchange.

"Scotty, how goes the workings of the work?" Grace asked, squinting against the harsh glare of the mid-day sun and the smell of the hot, hard-working men-folk permeating the air around her.

She could understand the young man's confusion on some level. When someone took on a low-level grunt work job with a construction company, the expectation was to be surrounded by generally 'men', of the large and gruff variety. The women were generally found at the nurse's station, running the books, or behind a desk. Grace being called boss had likely blown his mind, especially since she wasn't the face of her own company. She wasn't fond of the spotlight.

Faced with this large of a man, Grace seemed considerably smaller, and therefore even more out of place as a slim Chinese woman in her late thirties. Still, her palms were just as calloused as his, a full toolset was ready to go in the back of her 4x4, and she could do his job in a heartbeat... more easily than she could do her own. Grace took no small amount of pride in that fact. She could swing a hammer and tile a floor with the best of them.

Scotty knew the drill by this point and followed her into the mobile office parked near the porta-potties. Grace sat down at the desk and reached into the drawer where she knew Scotty hid the Jack Daniels. She poured herself a generous amount. She signed the man's paycheck so she was more than confident he could afford to share.

"Don't judge." she said to the look on his face. "If you had been on the call I just got, you would be doing the exact same thing, if not worse."

Grace pushed the chair back and propped her feet up on the desk as she sipped her drink. Her dark brown eyes had gone nearly completely black as she withdrew into her own head.

"What's going on, Baxter?" Scotty asked, his eyes turning concerned as he leaned forward in his chair. Her face was a bit green and pinched with more frown lines even than usual. Scotty thought she might be even more tired than usual.

"I got a call. Brock Sampson is getting out of jail next Tuesday." Grace informed the ceiling in a dark tone. "I don't understand how they could let someone like that loose again."

"He's a danger to the whole town. They should have left him in there to rot for what he did to you and to your family." Scotty said, his tone darker and angrier than Grace had ever seen. "That or they should have put him underground."

Grace wanted desperately to agree with him, but she found herself choking on her own words. She had all of these horrible, nasty feelings that left a bad taste in her mouth and she didn't want to be having any of them. Grace poured herself another glass. When she finished that, Grace poured herself another.

"I think I'm just going to drink until I hear that he's gotten himself killed or sent away again for good." Grace groaned, still only staring up at the ceiling without meeting Scott's gaze. "I'll be right here if you need me."

"I'll leave you alone for a bit if you want, or we could talk it through. Whatever you need, kiddo." Scotty offered, deeply aware of how he was the parental figure in Grace Baxter's life. He wanted to be there for her, but had never had children of his own and wasn't completely certain of how to comfort Grace.

"I'll just be here. Give me twenty minutes and I will be out for the walking tour. I need some time." she said, breathing deeply and quickly, clearly on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Take as much as you need." he said, patting the back of Grace's hand and giving her some space.