“Leslie,” Brad Verdun called excitedly. “Come look at these.”
She turned at the sound of her name and was looking at him when he first noticed Joe. For a minute he went dead still. Maybe it was the light, but he seemed to turn parchment white. His lips formed a single word. Matt.
“Sorry, no. Joe Connolly, Matt’s cousin,” Joe said, walking carefully across the uneven floor and offering his hand.
“Wow.” Verdun stared at him, openmouthed.
Laymon turned around then and gasped.
“Joseph Connolly,” Joe repeated. “Matt’s cousin.” Did they all believe in ghosts? Hell, these people spent their lives working with the past and the dead.
“You’re a dead ringer for him,” Brad said, then winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. Leslie asked me down here.”
“Cool,” Brad said. “She just never mentioned you, that’s all.”
Joe didn’t reply. No need to say that they had just met.
Leslie came up behind him then. “I’m going to take off, let you guys deal with all this,” she said.
Brad frowned. “Leslie, you must realize the significance—”
“Yes, and we’ll be working in here for weeks,” she said cheerfully. “And for the love of God, Brad, you deal with the reporters, huh?”
“You know I will.”
“Come on,” she said to Joe, taking his arm.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, letting her drag him away. The other men just stared. Neither one replied.
Joe climbed out of the hole first, then reached back to help her. They were both covered in grime, but as he helped her out, he was surprised by the sound of applause coming from the street.
Beneath the dirt on her face, he saw her blanch. “It’s all right. We’ll get away,” he said.
When she was standing, he turned to see Ken Dryer, whom he knew from his own days on the force, coming toward them.
Despite the dirt everywhere, Dryer still managed to look impeccable in his dress uniform. He was the perfect spokesman—tall, dark and handsome, with a voice that would have done the old crooners proud. “Leslie, the reporters are all clamoring to talk to you.”
“I fell into a hole. You tell them about it,” she said.
“I can, but—” He broke off, staring at Joe. “Hey, Joe. What are you doing here?”
“Leslie called me.”
“You two—oh, yeah…the Matt connection,” he said.
Joe shrugged. “Right, the Matt connection.”
“Ken, please help me get out of here today.”
Ken stared at her, then shrugged and smiled. “I guess the rest of us are exhibitionists, huh? Brad and the professor love to talk. Even Hank has been giving them an earful, though his heart must be sinking. I’d say you’re looking at a good year here, holding up the building process. Oh, well, they’re going for public appeal, and this time, they’ll be paying a price. Head for the trailer. I’ll send an officer to lead you out the back gate in the fence.”
“Thanks, Ken,” she said, then took Joe’s arm. “This way,” she told him.
They headed for the trailer. He could hear the protest of the crowd, but then Dryer’s smooth tones rose above it, followed a moment later by laughter.
They reached the trailer in safety. “Want water? A soda?” she asked him as soon as they were inside.
“Water would be great.”
She had barely supplied him with a plastic bottle before the door opened. In Joe’s opinion, the man who entered could only be described as oily. “Hey, Leslie. I heard you needed some help escaping,” he said.
Joe wasn’t sure why, but he hated the guy the minute he heard those simple words. The man was talking as if it were his job to protect Leslie. His voice had a proprietorial tone, and he just didn’t like it.
When the guy noticed him—how it had taken him so long, Joe didn’t know, since he was a good six-three—he went dead still, gaping. Joe found himself enjoying it.
“Joseph Connolly,” he said, offering a hand.
For a second the fellow looked horrified, as if he were about to collapse. “Hello, sorry…I…uh…”
“You didn’t see a ghost. I’m Matt’s cousin, and I’m just starting to realize how much he and I resembled each other.”
“A lot.” Hank looked at Leslie. In fact, he looked as if he’d like to come between the two of them.
“What do you think of the new discovery?” Joe asked politely.
“Incredible. Seems Leslie’s luck is still holding.”
“Just lack of coordination, I’m afraid,” she said. “I fell through a wall.”
“This will hold up building for a long time,” Joe said easily. “How is the company going to deal with that?”
“We’re going to go with the flow, celebrate history,” Hank said. He grinned, and it seemed like an honest grin. “Every time those cameras roll, they’re picking up the company logo.”
“Still, you must be talking millions.”
“And millions. Doesn’t matter. Have you ever tried to buy an ad during the Superbowl?” Hank asked.