by J. J. Cook
“Hey, what’s with Kent driving my engine?” JC demanded.
“Hi, JC,” Petey said with a smile. “I’m coming back to work.”
JC turned his scowling, dark face toward her for an instant. “Great.” He glared back at Kent. “Someone told me you were driving my fire engine through town.”
“It’s not your engine,” Kent said. “And you weren’t here. The chief said take it out.”
“There was no point in calling everyone in when Kent and I could take care of it,” Stella said. “You and Kent are the only two members of the fire brigade who are licensed to drive the pumper and the fire engine. That means either one of you—or both of you—can drive when we need you.”
JC’s frown showed his displeasure. “Chief, you said when Ricky left that I was the engine driver. This makes me look bad.”
Stella had heard many such arguments when she’d worked at the station back in Chicago. Sometimes ego got in the way of getting the job done.
“It doesn’t make you look bad,” she assured him. “We can’t get caught up in who does what. There aren’t a lot of us. We have to share responsibilities.”
“I still don’t like it.” JC shook his head. “I gotta go. Late for work. Good to see you, Petey.”
“Can I help wash the engine?” Petey asked Kent.
“Sure. You can do the whole thing if you want.”
They walked together toward the firehouse.
“You did a good job handling that, Chief.” Eric saluted Stella.
“Thanks. It happens from time to time.”
Stella spent about thirty minutes cleaning the Cherokee and then headed up to the cabin. Eric let Hero stay outside for a while.
The phone inside the cabin was ringing. It was her grandfather’s lawyer, Steven Morrow.
“I wanted to advise you that I’ve been able to put a stay on the sale of the old Gamlyn cabin,” he said after introducing himself. “This buys us some time to take a look at the deed, and Eric Gamlyn’s will, to make sure everything is in order. I’ll keep you posted, Chief Griffin, and let you know if anything changes.”
“That didn’t sound much like progress,” Eric said after she’d hung up.
“It sounded like lawyer-speak to me.” She shrugged. “I’m changing clothes.”
Stella put away her dress uniform, wondering if she needed to have it dry cleaned already. She shouldn’t have worn it to the lake.
But who could’ve imagined that she’d suddenly find Eric walking around outside the cabin with her? There was no way to plan for that.
Did the experiment with Tagger mean that Eric could leave the cabin with anyone as long as the person had his badge? This was a whole new set of weird rules. She’d only just gotten used to the first rules of living with a ghost.
She heard the kitchen door open. Eric greeted Hero as the dog ran into the cabin.
Stella didn’t mind being tethered to Eric, in theory. She wanted to make his afterlife better. He’d already suffered enough in her estimation. She wasn’t sure yet how it was going to work in practice, though. There would be times she’d want to leave the badge in the cabin. She had to have some privacy.
Eric had started a fire in the hearth, and Hero ran to say hello to her as she walked out of the bedroom.
“I guess I should run in to Pigeon Forge and get some food.” She stroked the Dalmatian’s fur and scratched his ears. “I wish I didn’t have to go so far for it. We need a grocery store in Sweet Pepper.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Eric asked.
“It’s up to you. If you’d like to do a quick trip to Pigeon Forge, that’s fine. If not, it’s not like you can help carry groceries until I get back here.”
“Then I’d like to stay,” he said. “Hero needs some playtime, and I was never overly fond of the city.”
“Okay. I’ll be back.”
“Don’t forget you’re going to look at that boat at six,” he reminded her. “I’d like to do that, if you don’t mind.”
“That’s fine. Anything you need from the store other than the usual?”
“Not this time. I’ve got some ideas for pepper recipes, but they’re not ready for the testing stage.”
Stella said goodbye, put on her jacket, and grabbed her bag. She purposely left Eric’s badge on the table in the kitchen area. Maybe she didn’t have to be so worried about finding private time away from him. Maybe he wanted some time away from her too.
It was cold outside, particularly since the wind continued to blow briskly down from the mountains. She’d noticed that most of the Little Pigeon River was frozen solid, with only a small stream moving through the middle of it. The pines and oaks were glistening with ice as she went out to the Cherokee.
There was an odd sound behind her. She thought at first it was just twigs snapping under the weight of the ice. It was quiet on the mountain, especially in the winter.
Then something hard poked her in the back and Bob Floyd’s voice said, “You didn’t think I was giving up so easy, did you?”
Chapter 14
Stella realized as she turned around that the thing poking her in the back was a gun—a shotgun, in this case.
Bob’s usually florid face was pale. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hands were shaking.
“Bob, you have to stop this.” She tried to stay calm. “I know there are other pieces of property around here that you could buy. You should get one of them.”
“I bought this piece. At least I thought I did. Then your grandfather’s hired gun stopped that, didn’t he? I’m not giving up. One way or another, this cabin is coming down, and the ghost of Chief Eric Gamlyn is going away forever.”
Stella was in a bad position. She could see Eric and Hero watching her from the front window in the cabin. She and Bob were too far away from Eric’s proximity to get any help from him. She hoped Eric wouldn’t let Hero out—she didn’t want Bob to shoot him.
Bob was sweating, despite the cold. His dark eyes were glassy. Clearly, he wasn’t in control of himself. She had to keep him talking until she could figure out what to do.
“What makes you think getting rid of the cabin will get rid of Eric’s ghost?” she asked him.
“Madam Emery told me so.”
“You mean the psychic reader who has that sign up in front of her house?” Stella had noticed it right away. The house was small, and not particularly eye-catching, except for the big sign in the front yard—“Madam Emery, Psychic Reader, Tarot, Palm Reading.”
“That’s right. I asked her what I should do when you threatened to send Eric after me.”
Stella sighed. She knew she’d been wrong to do that last year. She’d lost her temper. “I’m sorry about that, Bob. I shouldn’t have said that. I really can’t make Eric come after you. I don’t know what Madam Emery told you, but there’s really no ghost here.”
“We all know this place is haunted. And we all know Chief Gamlyn haunts it. Madam Emery told me all about the spirits. She told me Eric can’t live here without the cabin. I believe her.”
Eric was standing outside now. There was still nothing he could do to help Stella. Hero was inside, barking and jumping up and down at the door, trying to get out.
“Shooting me isn’t going to change that,” she reminded Bob. “Eric will still be here.”
“Maybe. But if you’re gone, your grandfather’s lawyer won’t care if I buy the property and destroy the cabin. He only cares because you do. I don’t see any other way now. I’m sorry. I wish I did.”
Me too. Stella glanced around, trying to figure out what she could do. The shotgun wasn’t steady, but it was in her face. She couldn’t risk it going off while she tried to take it from him. On the other hand, she wasn’t going stand there and let him shoot her either.
“He’s got a trick right knee,” Eric told her. “When he tried out for the fire brigade, he couldn’t get up the stairs with the hose.”
Stella considered her target. She’d ha
ve to get out of the line of fire when she made her move. But at least she’d have a fighting chance.
It helped that Bob had started crying and asking God to forgive him. Stella took a deep breath and kicked him hard in the right knee, shifting away from the business end of the shotgun.
When the weapon went off, the buckshot flew harmlessly into the trees. A flurry of ice and snow fell from the branches as the sound echoed up and down the mountain.
She took the gun away from him and put it in the back of the Cherokee. Bob was writhing on the cold, wet blacktop. “You broke my knee,” he screamed at her.
“I’m going in to call an ambulance and the police.” Her voice was shaking. “Don’t get up. I wouldn’t want anything else to happen to you.”
She didn’t say what could happen to him. She left that to his imagination. Stella walked inside and dialed 911 on the phone. “I can’t believe this guy. He’s ruining his whole life over this.”
“He’s an idiot,” Eric said as she got off the phone with the 911 operator. “Sounds like Madam Emery might know a thing or two about ghosts, though.”
“We could pay her a visit and find out.”
That sign has been in the yard since I was a kid. My dad always said I shouldn’t look at it as we drove by. He said it had something to do with the devil.”
Stella whistled. “That’s really old if you remember it as a kid.”
“You’re good with the sass.”
“Is that the same ‘Devil’ that Tagger was talking about at the firehouse?”
“I was too afraid to ask.”
Stella went back outside to see how Bob was doing and wait for the ambulance and police. He was gone.
She checked around. There was no sign of him. She heard a faint buzzing noise off in the woods. That’s why she hadn’t seen a car or truck. He’d come up on a snowmobile.
“Where is he?” Eric asked from the porch.
“I guess he got away. Maybe his knee wasn’t that bad.”
“He’s slippery. I guess you should’ve waited out here with him. Did he take his shotgun?”
She looked in the back of the Cherokee. “Yep. I guess that means it will be my word against his that he was even here.”
Eric frowned as they heard a siren coming up Firehouse Road. “I’m sure they’ll take your word. He’s already been brought in by the police because of his obsession with the cabin. There won’t be any question. You’re the fire chief.”
Officer Frank Schneider drove the police car near the Cherokee and parked. He got out of the car, searching the area with his eyes as he came toward Stella.
“Chief Griffin.” He scratched his head as he surveyed the empty driveway. “I got a call from 911 that you needed help. What’s up?”
Stella explained what had happened. “He was gone when I came back out after calling it in. I think he left on a snowmobile. Maybe we can look around and find the tracks.”
She and Frank spent about twenty minutes shuffling through the snow. They finally found some snowmobile tracks.
“These look fresh,” he said. “Sounds like the ambulance. I hope they don’t charge the town for a false alarm.”
“Can they do that?”
He shrugged as they approached the ambulance drivers before they could leave their vehicle.
“Where’s the victim?” the driver asked.
“He got away,” Frank said. “Sorry you had to make the trip. We’ll take him to the hospital ourselves after he’s in custody.”
The paramedic on the passenger side wrote in his logbook. “Okay. We’re saying there was no victim when we arrived. Would you like to sign off on that?”
Frank signed his name and apologized again. “Next time you’re off duty, let me buy you a drink at Beau’s.”
The offer didn’t make the paramedics seem any less irritated by their fruitless effort and a long trip back home.
Stella and Frank watched them pull in a circle around the Cherokee and go back down the road.
“Think that helped?” she asked Frank.
“Probably not. I can at least say I offered when Chief Rogers is screaming in my face.”
“What now?”
“You file a complaint against Bob Floyd. I write it down and call it in. Then I go pick him up. The chief is going to love that too.”
“I’m sorry. I hope this is settled soon.”
Frank smiled at her. “It’s not your fault, Chief. Bob has gone off the deep end. Watch your back.”
I It was starting to get dark. An owl hooted as it flew from a one large pine tree to another closer to the house.
“We’d better get going if we’re meeting John to look at the boat,” Eric reminded her. “Take my badge with you until all of this is over with Bob. It was terrible not being able to help while you were standing out here with him.”
“This is crazy. I hope Ben’s lawyer finds an answer soon.”
Stella went inside and pocketed Eric’s badge. She opened the door to the backseat of the Cherokee, and Hero happily jumped in.
“I guess we’ll buy supplies at the convenience store,” she said as she started the Cherokee. “Pigeon Forge will have to wait.”
In Chicago, sometimes it was hard to tell that it was night because of the orange glow from the streetlights. There was no doubt in the mountains. The night came down like a sledgehammer. There were no streetlights except in the heart of Sweet Pepper. Stella had a large mercury vapor light put in at the cabin, and two similar outside lights at the firehouse. It was still really dark. She’d begun to appreciate how important the moon had been to people two hundred years ago.
She drove off the main road toward Nay Albert’s farm, the only lights she could see at his house and barn. The edges of the road, and the land that rolled away from it, were cloaked in complete blackness. It made the headlights on the Cherokee seem very bright.
“I think John is here,” Eric said.
“I can’t see his pickup.” She carefully glanced at him. He looked luminous in the light from the dashboard. “You can use your ghostly powers to sense that?”
“I guess so. I can feel he’s here.”
“Good thing he can’t see you,” she quipped. “You look really scary right now.”
He looked down at his torso, arms, and legs. “It’s this light. This light would’ve made it so much easier to scare people away years ago.”
“I think you did a good job keeping people away.” She turned the Cherokee in to the area where John’s pickup was parked. “Were you moaning and clanking things or just throwing things?”
“A little of both. Elvita Quick fainted once when she came inside the cabin with the town council.” He grinned as he remembered.
Stella laughed as she got out of the Cherokee. Eric was immediately beside her. Hero barked a little and then whined and sat down on the seat when he realized he wasn’t getting out.
“No wonder Elvita doesn’t like you.”
“I guess not many people do anymore.”
Stella didn’t have a chance to remark on the huge number of people who’d been at his memorial that day. Plenty of people loved him, or at least his legend. Bob, Elvita, and her sister, Theodora, weren’t in that group.
“Chief.” John walked out of an old garage to meet her. He had another man with him. “This is my friend, Rufus Palcomb. I told you about him. He and his family own a boat company.”
Rufus appeared to be in his late thirties. Like John, he was tall, maybe six-foot-two with a large body structure—broad shoulders and chest. It was hard to tell for sure in the dim light, but his hair might have been as red as Stella’s.
“Chief Griffin.” Rufus shook her hand. His voice was loud and hearty. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from John.”
“Only the good stuff,” John promised with a slightly self-conscious smile. “Rufus and I went to school together. He was the captain of the Sweet Pepper Cougars during a year when we never lost a game.”
Rufus grinned. “It was a good year. Everything since pales in comparison.”
Stella smiled. Eric snorted but didn’t comment.
“So I hear you’re looking for a fireboat,” Rufus said. “I’ve taken a peek at what Nay has to offer. It’s not too bad. It’ll need a lot of work though.”
“Let’s check it out,” Stella replied.
They walked inside. Rufus pointed out the strengths and weaknesses of the old boat. “I’m sure she’d work for you,” he said as they walked around the Geraldine. “Someone did a good job putting her in dry dock.”
“That’s right,” Nay joined them. “Me and my son took care of her. She’ll float for sure. She’s strong too. I think she’ll make a fine fireboat.”
“I agree with Nay,” Rufus said. “The only thing I’m not sure about is her size. She’s kind of small for what you need. When John told me you were looking for a fireboat, I looked it up online. Most fireboats start at twenty-two feet. Geraldine is barely nineteen feet, not exactly standard size. Probably because she was homemade. I’m not sure about her holding a water cannon.”
“I suppose you have the perfect boat,” Nay said sarcastically. “Why am I not surprised?”
Rufus grinned at him. “Maybe because three generations of my family have built and sold boats? Your family has always been farmers. I don’t know anything about farming—just the food that I buy at the store. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”
John looked at Stella with almost the same expression that was on Eric’s face at that moment. It made her smile.
“I’m sure whatever boat Rufus wants to sell you will cost a lot more than I’m selling this one for,” Nay added.
“How much?” John asked.
Nay gave them his price.
Rufus whistled and shook his head. “This boat was never worth that much money. I can get the fire brigade into something better for less than that.”
“Do what you want.” Nay turned his back on them. “I can’t guarantee the council will approve the purchase.”
Stella nodded. She didn’t want to get into a fight about this too. “I’ll take a look at Rufus’s boat and get back with you. Thanks for taking the time to show me yours.”
