That Old Flame of Mine

by J. J. Cook

  “You and John sure got there early.” Ricky smiled at her. “Were you close by, maybe together?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business—we were going out for dinner.”

  “See? I knew it. You and John are perfect for each other. Maybe the two of you could get married and you wouldn’t want to go back to Chicago.”

  “In the next few weeks? I’d been dating my boyfriend back home for two years and we weren’t even engaged.”

  “Tennessee boys work faster.”

  “I thought you wanted to be chief when I was gone.”

  “I can always wait until you retire. You’re a lot older than me, you know.”

  “Yeah. Don’t hold your breath. Do you think Petey would wait? If she knew we were talking about it, she’d probably run us both down and take over.”

  He shook his head as he carefully maneuvered the large truck around the corner of Fifth Street, which was barely wide enough to allow the turn. “I know. That woman is driven. I like that. I’m thinking about asking her out.”

  Stella ignored most of his conversation, focusing instead on where they were going and searching for any signs of smoke. The air was clear—not even a whiff of smoke. She looked at the GPS. They were very close to the address. Maybe they’d caught the fire early.

  “It’s right up here,” she said. “Slow down. I hope it’s easy to get into.”

  “I know where it is. Mr. Dempsey used to be the football coach at the high school. I think he and his wife moved to Florida. There’s someone new living there now.”

  The pumper arrived right behind them. Both trucks fit in the long driveway. A young man and woman, both brown haired and well dressed, were standing out in front of the older brick house.

  “Where’s the fire?” Stella asked as she got off the truck with her volunteers behind her.

  “We feel really stupid about this,” the man said. “We didn’t check the chimney flue before we tried to start a fire. Now the house is full of smoke.

  “We got out right away. We couldn’t find Sylvia. We couldn’t look around much. The smoke was too thick.”

  Stella sent Petey and John to put on their breathers and go inside to make sure that there was only smoke and no fire. “Sylvia?” she asked the couple.

  “Our dog.” The woman started crying. “We got her from a rescue shelter last week. We gave her puppy away, which I told David was probably wrong. I feel so bad that I’ve abused them this way. They’ve been through so much.”

  “We didn’t know, Kimmie,” her husband consoled her. “It’s my fault. I wanted to try the fireplace.”

  “You were just excited, David,” she said. “I hope Sylvia is okay.”

  Petey and John called out from the doorway of the house. “No sign of fire, Chief,” Petey said. “It looks like the logs they tried to use were green. They died out. There’s a lot of smoke.”

  “Check around for a dog,” Stella called back. “She’s somewhere in the house.”

  “Okay, Chief,” John said. “I’m going to open the flue. We’ll open all the windows. That should get the smoke out.”

  Stella sent the pumper back to the firehouse. It didn’t look like they’d need anything from it, including the extra manpower. She stayed behind, waiting to hear about the dog as she and the young couple watched John and Petey go from room to room opening windows.

  “We found the dog, Chief,” Petey yelled from the downstairs window a few minutes later. “I’m bringing her out now.”

  David and Kimmie ran to the front door where Petey met them with Sylvia on a leash. At that moment, there were some yelps from the back of the engine. Everyone laughed when the little Dalmatian puppy they’d adopted ran into the yard.

  “Who brought the puppy?” Stella asked. No one admitted to it.

  The puppy yelped and cried excitedly, jumping all over the couple’s older dog. Stella started to apologize to the couple.

  Kimmie grabbed the puppy and started kissing him. “It’s Sylvia’s puppy! Where did he come from?”

  David explained breathlessly that they’d sold the puppy to Tory Lambert. He was supposed to be a gift to the fire brigade. “When we heard about the fire and Tory’s death, we assumed the worst. No one had seen the puppy. We thought he was dead.”

  It looked like Tagger had been right about Tory not keeping a pet. “That explains the big red bow he had around his neck when we found him,” Stella said with a smile. “I guess he really belongs with us. The station house where my grandfather worked in Chicago always kept a Dalmatian around for good luck. You don’t see much of that anymore.”

  “Does Sylvia need oxygen or mouth-to-mouth?” Kimmie asked as she hugged the dogs.

  “She seems fine,” Stella answered. “Where did you find her, Petey?”

  “She was in the basement.” Petey grinned. “I guess she knew it was the best place for her. She is a fire dog, after all.”

  “We are so grateful to all of you,” Kimmie gushed. “You have to keep little Hero. He could be your good luck at the fire station. Tory wanted you to have him.”

  “Hero?” Stella asked. The puppy ran to her when she said the name. She picked him up and scratched his neck. “Hero it is.”

  “And Hero will be providing a community service by helping the fire department.” Petey picked up the idea with an appealing smile at Stella.

  “I guess we’ll have to get him trained to work with us,” Stella said.

  Ricky scratched the puppy’s head. “Somebody is always at the firehouse. We could feed him and take care of him. He could be a guard dog too. He could come with us to fires and stuff.”

  “I’m going to miss you, Hero.” Kimmie hugged the puppy again. “But I know this is the right thing to do now. You were destined to be a true hero.”

  The firefighters waited to make sure the house was cleared of smoke. There was going to be some minor damage—mostly odor—that might have to be professionally removed.

  Marty had been disappointed that the call had been for nothing. “These people could have taken care of this themselves. It was a wasted trip.”

  “They still needed our help,” Stella told him. “Besides, it’s better that all calls aren’t life-threatening. That would get old really quick.”

  Kimmie and David thanked Stella again for her help.

  “You should spend the night somewhere else and call your insurance company,” Stella advised as everyone packed up to go. Petey already had Hero, his food, bowl, and play toys in the back. She admitted that she’d brought the puppy with them.

  “Thank you so much for rescuing us, Chief.” David shook Stella’s hand. “We’ll take your advice and come to visit Hero tomorrow. Good night, everyone.”

  “Thought you didn’t think we should keep the puppy, Chief?” Ricky said as they got into the truck.

  “Shut up and drive,” Stella retorted.

  Cleanup of the trucks and equipment seemed to take forever. Stella was ready to go. Her ribs and head hurt. She noticed that Marty went home as soon as they got back. Maybe John had been right about him. Time would tell.

  She knew her volunteers could handle getting the work done without her. She stayed because she remembered how nice it was to see Chief Henry standing around the station, working with them and watching. It was somehow reassuring. Besides, she needed to give them an assessment of their performance even though tonight’s call hadn’t been a major event.

  She congratulated all of them on their speed. “We were right there where we needed to be in less time than we have been. You did a great job tonight. I know it might not seem like a lifesaving event, but those people wouldn’t have known what to do without you. Good teamwork, guys.”

  It was nice to have a simple run—nothing dramatic. Or at least she thought so until they were spraying off the pumper. Everyone noticed the graffiti that had been etched into the paint on the engine too.

  “Why would anyone do such a thing?” Banyin demanded. “We wouldn’t even hav
e a fire brigade without the chief.”

  “Maybe whoever put Chief Griffin into the ditch on her Harley last night was trying to make a statement,” Kent said. “Maybe that wasn’t an accident after all.”

  “People do stupid things sometimes,” Stella explained. “You work at the library, Banyin. You know what I’m talking about. How many books come back ripped or written in? This happened at the firehouse. It was only vandalism. We need better locks on our doors.”

  “What if Kent is right and someone has it in for you?” Ricky said.

  “The wreck was an accident,” Stella reassured him even though she had doubts about it now too. “Let’s finish up here and go home.”

  She didn’t say anything else about it as the volunteers completed their work and began to drift away from the firehouse.

  Ricky was the last one to leave. He took Tagger home while Allen settled into the communications room for the night.

  Stella was putting away the last of her gear as John approached her. “I think Kent might be right,” he said. “I think you might be in danger.”

  Chapter 20

  “You should’ve told me right away, when you had your first suspicions.” John paced the small living room in the cabin. They’d decided to go there so that they wouldn’t be overheard. He’d already called in the vandalism, but taking the engine and pumper out had destroyed the crime scene.

  “When would that have been? We got the call right after you got to the firehouse. The vandalism had just happened. I didn’t think about it until then.”

  “There’s no crime scene now. Any prints or evidence is gone.”

  “I’m sure it’s not the first time the police have had to work with a crime scene that has been messed up.” She was getting a little impatient. She thought it might help to tell John about the vandal trying to run her down. If he insisted on mourning the loss of the crime scene, she didn’t know how much help he would be. “Besides, what else could I do? We’re the fire department. We had to answer that call.”

  “We didn’t even need the pumper,” he argued. “It could’ve stayed behind and been dusted for prints.”

  “There was no way to know that. We get a call, we don’t take chances on what we’ll find when we get there.”

  John finally took a deep breath and sat down. Stella was already sitting back against the sofa, trying to ease the ache in her chest until the pain relievers she’d taken could kick in. She’d made coffee for John when they first arrived. She was sure it was already cold after his twenty-minute rant.

  “All right. What’s done is done. We’ll have to go on from here. I’ll talk to Don. We’ll have to find a safe house for you and put you into protective custody until we can figure out what’s going on.” He sipped his cold coffee and frowned.

  “First of all, I feel fairly sure that Don isn’t going to allocate funds for me to be protected. He’d probably want me to leave now instead of a few weeks from now. I’m not going home until the job is done, and I couldn’t do that job in protective custody anyway. We’re going to have to figure it out.”

  “That’s plain crazy.”

  “Maybe. If this person doesn’t like me because I’m the fire chief, you’ll have to protect Petey when I’m gone.”

  “You’ve chosen her?” He looked at her in surprise. “I thought it would be Ricky. The two of you always seem pretty tight.”

  He sounded jealous. Stella kind of liked that. “I would’ve picked you, but I knew you wouldn’t quit your job with the police to take the position.”

  John suddenly seemed to relax. “That’s true. I’m flattered that you would’ve chosen me.”

  “You’re the natural choice since you’re mostly trained for it already. Nothing personal.”

  He moved from the chair by the fireplace to the sofa beside her. “Nothing personal? What about Ricky? Nothing personal there either?”

  Stella’s heart beat a little faster. Her cheeks felt warm. “Not with Ricky. And I wouldn’t let my feelings toward you influence me if you were wrong for the job.”

  He came closer and ran his fingers through her hair. “What am I going to do without you, Stella Griffin?”

  She closed her eyes for his kiss as he leaned nearer. The anticipation was sweet and exciting.

  A heavy book from the fireplace mantel dropped to the floor and the door to the deck opened. Chilly air blew across them.

  They sprang apart like guilty teenagers. Laughter followed as they looked at each other. John picked up the book and closed the door.

  “I think Mother Nature must be telling me not to get frisky with an injured woman,” John said.

  “I don’t think that was Mother Nature.” Stella looked around the room, wishing she could see Eric. She’d have to wait until John left to give him a piece of her mind.

  “I don’t know. We have some light seismic activity from time to time. The wind blows pretty strong off the mountains sometimes too.” He moved back to the chair and drank more coffee. “I guess we should be thinking about how we’re going to keep you from getting hurt again anyway. We can always resume the hanky-panky later.”

  “The way I see it, there are only two things that might get someone angry enough to try and kill me,” Stella said, not necessarily agreeing about the hanky-panky part. “Recreating the fire brigade or the investigation into Tory’s death. That’s all I’ve done since I’ve been here. I suppose either of those things could be stepping on someone’s toes.”

  John agreed and took out his battered notebook. “What did you actually see tonight at the firehouse? Could it have been anything to do with the wreck?”

  She told him what had happened. “Honestly, that pickup could’ve been the same vehicle that ran me off the road. I don’t know. I wish I’d gotten a better look both times.”

  He looked at what he’d written. “Either way, it sounds like a threat, Stella. Maybe you should reconsider and go home.”

  “Changed your mind about wanting my job?” she joked.

  “I want you to be safe,” he said with a straight face. “We can only do so much to protect you.”

  “I’ll try to stay out of dark places when I’m by myself. For all we know, these are unrelated incidents. If we can’t find evidence to the contrary, I don’t want to blow them out of proportion.”

  He put his notebook away, his eyes intent on hers. “Have you considered that someone might also want to get rid of you because you are the only blood heir to the Carson money?”

  “You mean after my mother, right? John, everything can’t be about that. I know you don’t like them but—”

  “I know. You can’t change who you are.” He abruptly got to his feet. “I’d better go. You need some rest. Stay out of trouble.”

  Stella gritted her teeth as he left without even saying good-bye to her. He was an obstinate, single-minded man.

  He was barely out of the house when Eric’s voice made his presence known. “Good riddance.”

  “What was that all about?” She put the dirty coffee mug in the sink. “You had no right to interfere.”

  “I have an obligation to stop a train wreck before it happens. I know you can’t see it, but he isn’t right for you.”

  Stella was outraged. “You don’t get to make that decision. Any more outbursts like that and I will go and stay with Flo.”

  “You mean the Mother Nature problem?” He laughed. “That was only the wind and seismic activity. Your boyfriend was clear on that.”

  “I’m going to bed. I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight. You’re such a coward anyway—hiding in the shadows. You could at least show yourself. I’ve watched ghost reality shows. I know you can do it.”

  She looked around, thinking he might oblige her. There was no sign of him. He didn’t say anything else. She went in the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

  * * *

  Stella fell asleep faster than she’d anticipated. She slept through the night and felt much better in the
morning. It was raining when she looked out of the bedroom window. There was also a police car right next to the cabin.

  A little thrill went through her as she realized John cared about her, even though he was angry and hated that she was part Carson. She put on her jacket and shoes and went outside to talk to him. She had some bagels and cream cheese. Maybe they could have breakfast together—outside the perimeter that Eric could visit.

  She was disappointed when she tapped on the car window. It was Officer Richardson who smiled and blinked, half-asleep. “Good morning, Chief Griffin. Hope you slept well last night. It was quiet out here.”

  Well, at least John cared enough to send someone else to look out for her. “I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to sleep in the car. Would you like some coffee?”

  He came inside the cabin and Stella made a cup for each of them. They ate bagels and stood around talking about the weather and the upcoming Pepper Festival until Officer Richardson had to leave. He thanked her for the coffee and took a brief look around the cabin.

  “My dad was good friends with Eric Gamlyn. He still talks about him. Hard to believe this place looks like he built it just yesterday. I wasn’t even born yet when he died. There are some tall tales about him around here.”

  “They say he haunts the cabin.”

  “I’ve heard that. I was wondering about it myself. No one has ever been able to stay here as long as you have, Chief Griffin. Maybe it’s because you aren’t from here. Or maybe old Eric likes you.” He laughed. “Thanks for the coffee. Have a nice day.”

  “He likes you,” Stella said when the officer had gone. “Or at least his father did.”

  Eric didn’t reply. Stella took the coffee mug and put it into the dishwasher. She hated to run the machine with so little in it. “Maybe you could have a party while I’m gone today and dirty up some dishes.”

  Still no reply.

  “Hey, I really need a pepper recipe for the contest at the festival. Nothing with chocolate because I’m judging that contest. Do you know anything I could use?”