Read Online The Firefighter's Match by Allie Pleiter - Free Book Online Page B

face—there was a time he’d known every AG employee by name. Not all the sales staff in all the stores, of course, but everyone out here at the national office.
    “I don’t think there’s anything going on there today,” the driver said. “Don’t you want to go see Mr. Cushman—I mean, the other Mr. Cushman? Drop your bags at the office or your apartment or something?”
    All of those places felt entirely too tight at the moment. Alex needed space. Sky. Sun. The spectacle of God’s palette. He peered at the driver’s name tag. “Rory?”
    “Yes, Mr. Cushman?”
    “I just need an hour at Red Rocks. Where do you like to eat?”
    Rory, still baffled, rattled off two or three fast-food burger joints.
    “Stop at the first one you see and I’ll buy lunch for both of us. You’ll get an hour’s paid lunch while you wait for me at Red Rocks. Work for you?”
    Rory looked like he’d just been asked to disobey orders.
    “An hour, Rory. Then you can deliver me to AG like you’ve been told.”
    A guilty look flashed across the young man’s face. “They said you were kind of crazy.”
    Kind of crazy? People used to call him a visionary. His passion for what AG did used to light up a room of sales managers. What was crazy was how things had spun out of control to the point they had. “Not today, just hungry.”
    Rory put the van in gear. “Whatever you say, Mr. Cushman.”
    * * *
    The burger sat untouched on the top row of benches in the massive outdoor amphitheater. A few visitors joined Alex in the sweeping rows of benches, tourists snapping photos of the slabs of red rock that jutted into the sky and gave the theater its name. The occasional athlete ran up and down the steps—a killer workout Alex’s knees could no longer manage. It was hot, but Alex welcomed the sensation after so much time in the cool sterile hospital and airport atmosphere. For whatever reason, Red Rocks had always been where he went to think. Just far enough from the office to feel “away,” and just close enough to provide an easy escape. Sometimes he’d walk the rows of bench seats as if it were a labyrinth, considering problems as he mounted steps. He could always see a solution from the top, but today he just sat still, willing the space and light to bring him some kind of calm.
    Where is my fault in this, Lord? What could I have done that would have Max Jones walking today? Is this the unavoidable fate of an AG that climbed too far too fast? He’d never been the kind of guy to feel guilty—sometimes even about things he ought to regret—and this wave of doubt and remorse had him reeling. Every time he sat still waiting for answers, all he’d end up with was another pile of disturbing questions.
    “Not hungry?”
    Alex looked up, startled to hear the familiar Italian accent. “What are you doing here?” Doc was supposed to be doing equipment forensics in Illinois, not standing over him in Denver.
    Doc sat down, immediately poking through the bag and pulling out a handful of French fries. “I brought the equipment here. Better tools, less nervous television people.” He narrowed one eye. “But more Samuel.” He bit into a fry. “Your brother is in a panic.”
    Alex picked up the drink he’d left untouched, suddenly thirsty. “When isn’t Sam in a panic?”
    “Ah, but this one, he deserves.”
    Doc’s tone sent a shock of ice down Alex’s spine despite the strong sun. “Meaning?”
    Fishing in his pocket, Doc pulled out a sheet of paper and unfolded it onto the bench between them. “SpiderSilk is at fault. Not entirely at fault, but at fault just the same.”
    “Want to explain what that means?”
    Doc leaned back on his elbows. “The situation was badly handled. SpiderSilk is much lighter and thinner than our other lines. The belay devices they used aren’t what we would have specified, and the fact that it was nighttime and raining made things worse. If you ask me, they never should have attempted the rappel