Daddy's Home by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2023-02-18T12:35:32+00:00

Electrical storms were not uncommon in Ohio in the spring, some bordering on hurricane intensity. The one that hit on Tuesday night was a humdinger, knocking out power for miles around, the wind gusting up to forty miles an hour and causing considerable property damage. Pleasure boats anchored in the bay slammed into docks, some overturning and others even sank. Roofs, freestanding garages and sheds were especially in jeopardy, particularly in older neighborhoods. A number of trees were uprooted and the statue of the late Ohio senator, Robert A. Taft, in the town square toppled off its pedestal, breaking his left arm.

By late afternoon the worst was over, the rain a mere drizzle and the winds were quiet once more. Sam and Jeff had phoned the men, instructing them to stay home, but by four, Sam could no longer stand the suspense. Relieved that his mother’s house had escaped any damage, he’d driven to Oakview Estates to check things out for himself. On the way, he passed both sheriffs vehicles out assessing storm damage. For once, Hayes wouldn’t be parked in his usual spot spying on them.

All things considered, they were pretty lucky, he decided after gingerly walking the grounds. Roofing shingles just recently added to the model house lay scattered all over the area. Pieces of sawed-off wood apparently had been lifted by the wind and sent flying into several windows, breaking them. The tarp covering stacked lumber was in a wet heap some yards away, but the boards were intact, though thoroughly soaked. The entire terrain was a mud bath with brown puddles everywhere. It would take several hot days to dry things up.

Even so, the damage was comparatively minimal and, if the sun broke through the cloud cover tomorrow, they’d lose only a few days. Not bad considering the intensity of the freak storm. The drizzling rain had dampened his hair, and he brushed it back off his face. Shifting a section of furnace duct that had landed in his path, Sam tossed it off to the side, then yelped out loud as he let go. Examining his hand, he saw that he’d cut a good-size gash in the fleshy heel. Swearing under his breath, he dug out his handkerchief and wrapped it around the cut, stepped carefully around an overturned sawhorse and headed back to the trailer.

It was darker than usual at dusk due to the aftermath of the storm, and Sam wished he’d brought his flashlight as he picked his way through more rubble. He’d just made it down a muddy incline when he saw headlights turn into the complex and come through the cyclone fence gate he’d left standing open. Slogging nearer, he recognized Liza’s BMW as it pulled to a stop. He watched her climb out wearing a pair of very unfashionable ankle-high rubber boots.

“Look at you,” he said, reaching the steps. “I wouldn’t have guessed you owned anything as practical as those boots.”

“This isn’t my first visit to a site in bad weather,” she commented as he unlocked the trailer door.

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