“Dolly?” I said, feeling my knees get rubbery. I made a vow right then and there never to eat meat again. “I’ll tell my grandfather. He’s waiting for me outside.” I ran out of the house and got into the car as fast as I could.
“I’m proud of you, Grace,” Doc said, reaching over and hugging me. “That took courage. From now on, always think about how you’d feel if you were in the other person’s shoes.” He shook his head and smiled. “And for the love of God, promise me you’ll never turn another cow loose.”
CHAPTER 24
Louanne called the next morning when I was still eating my breakfast. “It’s over ninety degrees, hotter than Hades,” she said when she heard my voice. “Want to go swimming at Belly Beach? We could take a picnic.”
Good idea—it was a million degrees in my house, and it wasn’t even noon. I hadn’t been swimming since two weeks before, when I found out my dad had committed suicide.
“Sure. I’ll make our lunch,” I said, crossing my fingers that Denny hadn’t eaten all the oatmeal cookies. “What time do you want to go?”
“As soon as possible. Maggie’s downstairs with Aunt Michelle. She came over early this morning,” Louanne said in a low voice. “She was pretty upset.”
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“I think so,” Louanne said. “We played with the kittens for a while and ate breakfast; she’s only a little sad now. Can you make potato chip sandwiches and bring your mom’s oatmeal cookies? Maybe they’ll make her feel better.”
“Okay,” I said. “See you soon.”
Maggie’s father must’ve gotten mad again. If my father had been like Mr. Miller, would I still miss him? Or would I be glad he was gone? I shrugged; it was too hard to imagine.
There wasn’t any bread in the bread box and only a few chips in the bottom of the bag, so I ran down to the grocery store. Doc was standing at the counter talking with Vinnie.
“We were just solving all of the world’s problems, Grace,” Doc said, winking at me. “Did you need me?”
I explained that I was getting stuff for lunch because I was going swimming with my friends.
“Sounds like a great idea,” he said. “Wish I had a bathing suit; I’d go too.”
“Now that’s something I’d pay to see,” Vinnie said, laughing. “Your grandfather sunbathing at Belly Beach!”
Doc laughed too. “Well I’m not going to take your money, Vinnie. That’s for sure.”
I headed over to the bread aisle and picked up a loaf of Freihofer’s bread. Making sure Doc and Vinnie weren’t watching, I squeezed it gently to make sure it was fresh—my mother hated it when I did that. I was looking for the Wise potato chips—my favorite because they were so crispy—when the bell rang, and Mr. Kutter walked into the store.
I squeezed the bread so hard there was no way anyone could make sandwiches out of it. I stood perfectly still so he wouldn’t notice me.
Mr. Kutter picked up a can of Maxwell House coffee and walked over to the counter, where Vinnie and Doc were still talking.
“Carton of Pall Malls,” he said, slamming the coffee can down next to Doc. He pulled out his wallet, counted out some money, and put it on the counter.
“Sorry,” Doc said, stepping aside. “Didn’t realize you were there.”
Vinnie pulled the cigarettes off of the shelf and put them in a bag with the coffee. He rang up Mr. Kutter’s purchases and gave him his change.
“Ain’t you the man who got me fired?” Mr. Kutter said, looking at Doc more closely. He stuck his wallet back into his pocket and thrust his chest out. “Yeah, you’re that girl’s grandfather. You got me fired.”
I stayed still.
“Hold on, Mr. Kutter. I didn’t get you fired,” Doc said firmly. “You did that to yourself. You’ve no one to blame but yourself.”
“Bull. Shit. You cost me my job,” Mr. Kutter said, spitting his words out. “I ain’t forgot.” He grabbed his bag and walked out to his car.
“He’s holding a grudge, Doc,” Vinnie said, watching him peel away from the curb. Vinnie and everyone else in town knew that Doc had insisted the school do something after Mr. Kutter took Maggie and me down to the school basement—everyone in town did. There weren’t many secrets in Stillwater.
“He knows he was wrong,” Doc said, shaking his head. “He’s embarrassed. Blowing off steam, that’s all. Besides, he’s working part-time for the city now, helping them clean up after the hotel fire. That’ll keep him busy for quite a while.”
I walked up to the counter and put my things down.
Doc put his arm around me. “He didn’t scare you, did he?”
“A little,” I said, wishing for the hundredth time I’d never gone into the school basement with Mr. Kutter.
“Grace, there’s nothing to worry about,” Doc said, rubbing my shoulder. “He’s learned his lesson.”
“Right,” I said, holding out the bread that I’d accidentally squeezed when Mr. Kutter walked in. “Sorry about the bread.”
Vinnie laughed. “Don’t worry; the birds will love that bread. Get yourself another loaf.”
Doc walked back home with me, turned the radio on, and sat down to read the paper. I put my lunch together, wondering what Mr. Kutter meant when he said he didn’t forget. And what did Vinnie mean when he said Mr. Kutter was holding a grudge?
I put the lunch in my bike basket and rode over to Louanne’s. The whole area smelled like smoke from the hotel fire the day before. A few firemen were washing the truck in the firehouse parking lot. They waved when they noticed me. “Hey, cowgirl,” one of them yelled. I looked away, pretending I didn’t hear.
The street was closed in front of the hotel, and the debris hadn’t been cleaned up. Metal barstools that had melted were piled on top of each other like a weird sculpture. Mr. Kutter was working with some other men, throwing beams and broken glass in the back of a city dump truck.
Mr. Hitchcock, the hardware store owner, and Sulley were across the street watching. Casey Stengel was sitting at their feet. Now that the hotel was gone, Sulley was out of work.
O’Malley the cop pulled up as I was walking up the steps at Louanne’s. There was only one reason he’d come over—Uncle Tony.
“Not much left of the hotel, is there, Grace?” he asked, catching up with me. “Those old buildings go up like a match even when the fire department’s half a block away.” He frowned, wiped his brow on his uniform sleeve, and hesitated.
Before he had a chance to mention the cow, I asked, “How’d the fire start?”
“I’m here to find out,” O’Malley said, clearing his throat. “Goddamn smoke. Hard to breathe, even today. This fire was no accident.” He unwrapped a piece of Juicy Fruit gum and stuck it in his mouth. “Want one?”
“No, thank you,” I answered, but it did smell good. “What do you mean no accident?”
“It was set. Definitely set.”
O’Malley reached over me and rang the doorbell, and Aunt Michelle opened the door right away.
“Hello, O’Malley,” she said, folding her arms, her voice slow and deliberate.
“Got some questions to ask your brother, Michelle,” he said, pushing past her into the house. “About the hotel fire. Where is he?”
O’Malley and Aunt Michelle had gone through school together. My mother said they had dated when they were teenagers: Aunt Michelle had been a cheerleader, and he had been a football player. They broke up when she went away to college and he stayed in Stillwater.
Aunt Michelle gave me a quick hug. “The girls are in the kitchen, Grace, waiting for you.” She walked back to the policeman, who was in the hall looking up the stairs. “Is this really necessary, O’Malley?”
“It is, Michelle, or I wouldn’t be here wasting my time.”
“Tony’s in his room,” she said, putting her hand on O’Malley’s arm. “I’ll get him, I don’t want you to question him alone. You know how this is going to upset him.”
“I’ve got a job to do, Mic
helle,” he said, pulling away. “I can’t just walk away from it.”
“I’ll get him for you, but please make it fast,” she said, starting up the stairs.
I hurried into the kitchen. Maggie and Louanne were playing Old Maid. “What took you so long?” Maggie said, jumping up. “We’ve—”
“Shhh,” I whispered, holding the kitchen door open a couple of inches. “Louanne, O’Malley’s here to question your uncle about the hotel fire.”
“What?” Louanne said, raising her eyebrows. “Why? How can he…”
The three of us gathered around the door, trying to see through the crack. O’Malley, Aunt Michelle, and Uncle Tony were standing at the bottom of the stairs. Uncle Tony’s hair was rumpled, he was wearing pajamas, and his feet were bare. They were both looking at O’Malley, who was waving his arms around.
“Tony needs to confess, Michelle,” O’Malley said gruffly. “Damn it. Yesterday he was outside on your front lawn watching everything.”
“So was everyone else in town, O’Malley,” Aunt Michelle said through her teeth.
O’Malley shook his head and continued. “He’s the first one at every fire. He smokes Pall Malls, and at every stinking fire, I’ve found Pall Mall butts or an empty package of them on the ground.”
Aunt Michelle’s voice rose. “It doesn’t matter what you think, O’Malley. Tony was inside yesterday when the fire started with me. I canned peaches and he helped. Right, Tony?”
Uncle Tony opened his mouth. His eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he nodded.
“O’Malley, do you think because Tony has emotional problems that he sneaks out and sets fires?” She jammed her hands into her apron pockets and took a step toward him. “Well, do you?”
“I gotta be honest, Michelle, I just don’t know.” O’Malley turned red and swallowed hard.
“So let me get this straight,” Aunt Michelle continued, taking her hands out of her pockets and holding her palms out toward O’Malley. “You don’t know, but because he’s on medication and can’t defend himself, you’re all right bullying him into admitting something he didn’t do?”
“I didn’t say that, Michelle. The thing is…” O’Malley said, sounding puzzled at the way the conversation was going.
Louanne let out an exasperated sigh and jerked her head at O’Malley. “That’s not right.”
I nodded.
“You know something?” Aunt Michelle cut him off. “Half the people in town smoke Pall Malls—including me.”
Maggie and I exchanged glances.
“Get out of this house, O’Malley,” Aunt Michele said coolly. “I mean it. Get. Out.”
Louanne opened the door wider so we could have a better view. Sun streamed in through the window on the stair landing. O’Malley’s uniform was sweat stained, and he stared at Uncle Tony, who’d put his head in his hands.
“Canning peaches,” O’Malley said, in a tone dripping with sarcasm. “Well, I don’t believe you.” He shook his finger at Uncle Tony. “The next time I come over here, I’m going to arrest you. You’ve set your last fire.”
O’Malley walked out of the hall, slammed the front door, and stomped down the steps. Uncle Tony moved over to the front window, pushed the curtain aside, and watched the policeman drive away.
“It’s okay, girls,” Aunt Michelle said, motioning for us to come into the hall. “The truth is the truth. Tony didn’t set this fire or any of the other ones.”
Tony rocked back and forth on his heels and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Tony,” Aunt Michelle said, touching him on the shoulder. “Forget O’Malley, he’s a fool. You didn’t set the fires—he can’t prove a thing. Just forget him.”
Uncle Tony clutched his stomach and moaned.
“Girls, everything’s all right,” Aunt Michelle said, but she didn’t sound like she believed it. “Don’t worry, you go on and have fun at the beach.”
“But—” Louanne said.
“No buts,” Aunt Michelle said calmly. “Go on now.”
We rode our bikes over to Belly Beach, but none of us thought everything was okay.
“Can you believe O’Malley?” I said, trying to avoid the deep ruts in the dusty road. “He’s so sure Uncle Tony set the fires. And Louanne, your aunt said she smokes Pall Malls—but she doesn’t.”
Louanne sighed.
“You’re right, Grace,” Maggie said, riding up beside me. “Aunt Michelle lied to O’Malley—she smokes Camels. Uncle Tony’s the one who smokes Pall Malls. I can’t see him helping her can peaches, either.”
“Maybe she got mixed up,” Lou said, sounding worried. “Could happen.”
“Do you think she’s protecting him?” I asked, knowing that Aunt Michelle wouldn’t get mixed up—she was covering for Uncle Tony. Maybe she knew something we didn’t know.
“I don’t like to even think about it.”
“She’s protecting him because she’s afraid he’s the arsonist,” Maggie said, looking at me and Louanne. “Don’t act so surprised—you think so too.”
“She’s protecting him because he’s innocent,” Louanne said.
We rode the rest of the way in silence. When we got to the beach, it was almost empty. There were a few older kids sunning themselves, but we pretty much had it all to ourselves. No one was in the water. Maggie threw the blanket on the sand. We peeled down to our bathing suits and slathered ourselves with Johnson’s baby oil and iodine. Kicking off our sandals, we ran across the hot sand to the water, laughing and squealing, “Hot-hot-hot!”
“Race you to the rock,” Maggie yelled, plunging in. Louanne and I dove in after her. Lou was a strong swimmer, and in spite of Maggie’s lead, it only took her a few strokes to catch Maggie and swim on by.
Way out in the deep water, about one hundred yards from the shore, was a huge rock. It was about two feet under the water—a great place to sit and catch your breath before you started back to shore. Before I could swim, my father would bring me out to the rock and we’d sit there and sing. “Down in the meadow in a little bitty pool swam three little fishes and the momma fishy too. ‘Swim,’ said the momma fishy, ‘Fast as you can,’ and they swam, and they swam right over the dam. Boop boop dit-em dat-em what-em chu!”
The beach was about a football field below the dam. I’d sit on my father’s lap until my lips turned blue looking for the three little fishes, but I never saw them. Every once in a while, a dead sunfish would float by.
Louanne reached the rock first, and when we swam up, she splashed water in our faces and pushed us away. “My rock,” she said, ducking Maggie’s head underwater. “Mine.”
“Louanne! You idiot.” Maggie spit out a mouthful of water. “You’re not funny; you could have drowned me.” She made another attempt to climb on, but Louanne laughed and pushed her away again.
“Stop pushing me; the rock is slippery. I could get hurt.”
“Maggie,” Louanne said, striking her “I’m a mermaid” pose. “Say sorry for calling me an idiot if you want to get on.”
“No way,” Maggie shot back.
“Come on, Lou,” I said, climbing up beside her. “Let Maggie on.”
“Oh, go ahead and ruin my fun,” Lou said, but she smiled and moved over so Maggie could get on.
“Hey, look how different it looks on Hudson Avenue,” I said, pointing to the space up the river where the old hotel had been. “Reminds me of a missing tooth.”
“Jeez,” Maggie said.
“Do you think O’Malley will arrest my uncle?”
“Probably,” Maggie said, slipping off the rock to float in the cool water.
“But he has to prove Uncle Tony did it,” I said. “So many people smoke Pall Malls. How do we know which one’s the arsonist?”
“We look for bad people, like Gary Cannon,” Louanne said, slapping her forehead. “I know he smokes because I saw Gary down by the river. He and his friends were all smoking—I just don’t know what kind of cigarettes.”
“And remember,�
� I said, “Gary and two of his friends got in trouble for breaking into the drive-in theater last year. They stole beer and cigarettes.”
“I didn’t know that,” Louanne said, staring at me. “What happened?”
“They went to court, but they didn’t go to jail. They had a curfew—had to be home by nine at night, and they had to meet with O’Malley once a week,” Maggie said. “They could be the ones setting the fires.”
“It’s true,” I said, shivering. “Doc always tells me that you look at the past to predict the future.”
“Yeah,” Maggie agreed. “They’ve already committed one crime.”
“I wonder if O’Malley suspects them,” Louanne asked. “How can we find out?”
“Wait—one more thing,” I said, getting excited. “I was going to tell you this when I came over this morning, but I forgot because of O’Malley.”
“What?” Maggie asked.
“I’ve been reading about arson for our investigation, and sometimes firemen are arsonists.”
“No way,” Louanne said. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know, but it’s true.”
“Go on,” Maggie said. “What else did it say?”
“Well, they’re usually regular people, volunteers, like Mr. Howe. They like the idea of fighting fires—that’s why they learn about it. They want to save people.”
“So?” Louanne said. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, Lou,” I said impatiently, “but if there aren’t fires for them to put out, sometimes they set them so they can be heroes.”
“Are you kidding me?” Maggie said. “Seriously, I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true,” I said, trying to convince her. “The fireman in the book I’m reading set a house on fire just because he wanted to save the people inside.”
“Really?” Louanne said, shaking her head in disbelief. “What happened?”
“The fire burned too fast. Everybody in the house died.”
Stillwater Page 13
