Until The Ride Stops. Amie Denman

It would pay for Lucas to finish college, too.”

      Matt held his breath, wondering and fearing what his stepfather’s choice would be.

      “I appreciate you paying for my college,” he said slowly. “Lucas deserves the same.”

      “My other option is to leave the whole business to you,” Bruce said. He put both palms on his desk and looked at Matt expectantly.

      Matt didn’t know what to say. He wanted the business. Had been training to run it. Believed he had the knowledge and work ethic. But how did he look his stepfather—the man who had practically saved his mother, brother and himself—in the eye and talk about taking over when he died?

      A fit of coughing distracted Bruce while Matt sat there feeling helpless and miserable. Would his mother have greater security and comfort from the revenue of the sale of the business or would she be better off if he took it over? What if he failed?

      “I would do anything for my family,” Matt said. “Our family.”

      “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

      Later in the afternoon, the rain gradually lessened and the skies brightened. Matt was glad to see the clock on the office wall indicate closing time. His stepfather had gone home an hour earlier, so Matt unplugged the coffeepot, turned out the lights, and walked to the parking lot with their secretary and bookkeeper, Nelma.

      “Nice evening,” Nelma commented.

      “It is,” Matt agreed. “But what we need is good construction weather. Dry weather.”

      “Maybe tomorrow,” the older lady said as she got in her car.

      Matt drove to the brick house he rented. It was larger than a single guy needed, but he liked the style and the price was right. He had a back porch and a yard, an adequate kitchen and a living room where he could watch home improvement shows. He had more shows recorded than he’d ever find time to watch, but he was saving them up for winter, the slow season for construction in Michigan.

      Instead of microwaving dinner or parking himself in front of the television, he went upstairs and put on his running clothes. He was often too tired for an evening run after working on-site all day, but he’d spent the afternoon behind a desk. And he had plenty of stress to burn off.

      He rode his bike downtown to the waterfront, locked it in a bike rack and started a warmup jog on the asphalt path that wound along the water’s edge. Almost three miles long, it provided views of the harbor, the boat docks, a park and the bay. Across the bay, on a peninsula jutting between Bayside and Lake Huron, was Starlight Point. The roller coasters, the giant wheel and the Star Spiral dominated the skyline and provided a light show at night. He often walked, ran or biked on the path, a habit he’d developed in junior high and never outgrew.

      He passed the city marina, where his stepfather had a sailboat docked. Bruce hadn’t been out on the boat this year, and Matt wondered if he’d be able to this summer. Would he live to see next summer? Each day seemed to take a greater toll. As he jogged along, Matt tried to imagine what it would feel like to be facing the end of his life and trying to leave things sorted for the people he left behind.

      He picked up his pace, wishing he could outrun his problems. He’d tried outrunning the fact that his biological father spent his days in a ten-by-ten-foot prison cell, a punishment he richly deserved even though serving the sentence didn’t erase what he’d done to his family. What he’d done to his trusting wife and two young sons.

      His heart hammered and his breath was short. A stitch tortured his side and one of his shoelaces started flapping. Matt made himself slow down to a walk. Put his hands on his hips and breathed deeply.

      “I was going to challenge you to a race,” a voice said behind him. “But you were running as if you were trying to dodge a tornado.”

      Matt turned to see Caroline, hands on her hips, catching her breath. Her long dark hair was in a ponytail and she wore a sleeveless red shirt and black shorts. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright. It was the first time he’d talked to her when she was not wearing a black police uniform.

      “Never outran a tornado,” he said. “But I did see a waterspout on the lake once.”

      “Here?” Caroline asked, gesturing at the lake.

      “Just a little ways down the shore. We were at a family picnic that folded up pretty fast after that.”

      “So you grew up here in Bayside?”

      “I’ve lived here since I was fourteen.” He didn’t care to explain the first part of his life in a city a few hours away. “So, are you staying in shape so you can chase the bad guys?”

      She laughed. “Of course. I just hope you don’t commit any crimes. I couldn’t catch up to you.”

      “I don’t usually run that fast. And I can’t do it very long. It was just one of those days.”

      She smiled and nodded sympathetically. “I have those days.”

      Matt was afraid he was on the brink of telling her every single one of his problems. He controlled himself and did the sensible thing instead. He knelt and tied his loose shoelace.

      “It was my day off,” Caroline said. “But it rained.”

      “Is it better to have a rainy day off than to stand in the rain outside my construction fence?”

      She shrugged. “I have a raincoat. And I’ve made friends with a huge tree that probably attracts lightning but also keeps me dry.”

      “Want to run together?” Matt tried to use the same tone he might use with a friend or with his brother. Although there was something about Caroline that made him feel cautious, he knew he’d miss her company when he went home tonight.

      She twirled her earbuds. “My batteries are dead, so I’d rather walk. If you’re ready for a cooldown,” she added.

      “Sure.”

      They fell into step together. It reminded Matt of the first time they met several weeks ago when she marched him back to his tent.

      “Do you live in the employee dorms by the marina?”

      “I do.”

      He caught her glaring at him. She stopped and threw up her hands. “Stop it,” she said. “That’s the same look my brother gives me whenever the subject comes up.”

      “He doesn’t like it?”

      “He’s the fire chief at the Point and he’s sure the dorm is a big matchbox.”

      Matt was relieved to see a small smile return to her face. She wasn’t mad.

      “I’d be more worried about it falling down,” he said. “Have you ever looked at the roofline? It waves like a flag.”

      “Maybe they built it that way,” she said, resuming her walking pace.

      “Right,” Matt said. “More likely it’s sitting on unstable ground and it’s shifted here and there until you could probably shove it over with your car.”

      Caroline’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Is the ground at Starlight Point unstable?”

      An odd question for her to ask. Her expression right now said investigative cop.

      “It’s a peninsula on the lake. Of course there are moisture issues and sand.”

      “And that contributes to the failure of a building or...other things over time?”

      “Tough questions,” he said. “You’d be better off asking a soil engineer.”

      They walked in silence a few minutes until they got to the parking lot at the end of the path. Matt stopped at the bike rack. “Here’s my ride,” he said.

      “Mine’s over there.” Caroline pointed to an older vehicle