In Hot Water

by J. J. Cook

  “Feeling guilty?”

  “I guess.”

  He turned to her. “Don’t. You’re right. I trusted unwisely. You should keep your distance. People can hurt you if you let them.”

  “But what about the fire brigade?”

  “No one was there when I needed them, Stella. I’m dead because of it. Don’t let that happen to you.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and stomped her feet. “Yeah, well, I’m going to freeze to death if I don’t get inside. I’m going to make some hot tea. I know I’m out of Cokes and coffee. I wish you could go to the store for us. You could probably figure out what food to buy better than me.”

  “You mean something besides Coke, popcorn, and breakfast pastry?” He smiled at her efforts to get warm.

  “Not everyone cooks, you know. When it was my turn to cook in Chicago, the guys knew they were always getting takeout. Chief Henry told me once that I’d never get married because I couldn’t cook a meat loaf.”

  “Was that his criteria?” Eric followed her back into the cabin. “Do you regret that you gave up your job there?”

  Stella foraged for something edible still left in the cabinets or the refrigerator as the water warmed for her tea. “No. Sometimes I miss the discipline, and people on my own level to talk to.”

  “People on your own level will always be hard if you’re the one in charge.”

  She found a piece of cheese in a plastic bag and sniffed it before she ate it. “You’re very wise. It must be because you’re so old.”

  He laughed at that, looking more solid and alive than he had on the deck. “I think if you don’t get married, it will be more because of your smart mouth than your meat loaf. Are we heading out to the arson scene or what?”

  “Yes.” She sipped some hot tea, frowned, and left most of it at the cabin. “And we’re stopping later for supplies. Don’t let me come home without food again. I think that cheese was bad.”

  They got in the Cherokee and called Hero into the vehicle. It didn’t take much. He was always ready to go. Stella was worried that she might miss the beginning of practice that afternoon, so she dropped Hero off at the firehouse.

  Petey was there with Allen Wise. They were talking about the latest Sweet Pepper gossip.

  Allen worked for Bob Floyd at the barber shop. “The police found him on the floor this morning. He called to ask me if I could open for him. I’ve never known the like.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Stella quickly checking her messages.

  “Bob Floyd,” Petey supplied. “Someone beat him up and robbed the barber shop early this morning.”

  “What?” Stella looked up at him. “How is he?

  “I don’t know. They transported him to the hospital.” He shook his head, always mindful of his thick, wavy hair. Not a strand moved out of place. “I haven’t heard anything else.”

  “Were we called on that?” Stella asked.

  “Nope. Just the police and ambulance.” He slurped his coffee and ate another cheese cracker. “Bob has a hard head. He’ll get through it. Maybe next time he’ll be careful who he crosses.”

  Stella was puzzled by his words. She didn’t have time to ask him to explain. She reminded both of them that John would be there to oversee practice that afternoon if she was still working on the arson investigation.

  Petey frowned. “It’s not bad enough that I’m assistant chief and can’t lead the practice; I have to miss an arson investigation.”

  Stella smiled and urged her to get well soon. “I’ll see you later.”

  When she got in the Cherokee with Eric, he didn’t hint around or mince words on what he thought had happened to Bob.

  “I guess Ben showed that little man what line he shouldn’t cross.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your grandfather. Did you think he was going to let Bob threaten you and not do anything about it?”

  She shook her head. “He wouldn’t do something like that. He’s too smart. He’d know everyone would be expecting it.” Stella didn’t believe it was true, but she knew it would be the talk of the town by noon.

  “He doesn’t care,” Eric responded. “And I think it’s amazing he didn’t kill Bob for what he did.”

  She didn’t mention it again as she drove to the Sunset Beach community and parked the Cherokee beside Gail Hubbard’s SUV with the state arson investigator seal on the driver’s side door.

  “Good morning, Chief,” Officer Skeet Richardson greeted her. “Mrs. Hubbard is already back there. I heard about the trouble up at your place yesterday. Sorry that happened to you.”

  Stella put on her gloves as he was speaking and took out her tool kit of items she’d collected to help with investigating arson. She always carried extra gloves and face masks in case her volunteers forgot theirs. She also had a small digital camera, duct tape, and plastic containers for samples.

  “Yeah. It wasn’t any fun. I’m sorry Officer Schneider had to get involved. I hope he’ll be okay.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine. I suppose you heard about Bob Floyd?” He shook his head. “He was a mess.”

  “That was unfortunate.” Stella was careful what she said. Her words would be out there like other news, floating through the streets of Sweet Pepper.

  “Yeah. No ID on the perp yet.” He hitched up his belt. “I guess we’ll probably never know for sure what happened.”

  Stella smiled at him. “There’s a lot of that going around. Excuse me.”

  Gail looked up and waved as Stella walked around the back of the burned house. “Good to see you. At least we have nice weather for this. It’s the only part we’ll think of as pleasant today, I’m sure.”

  She had already collected some samples from the rubble and had moved some pieces of charred wood and metal into separate piles on what was left of the grass.

  “I see you’ve created a kit for yourself, Stella. Good work. I’d heard you’d done a few arsons by yourself. Your work on Victoria Lambert’s house was impressive.”

  Stella put on her face mask, wondering how that information made it all the way to Nashville. It seemed like no one there would be interested or impressed by what went on in Sweet Pepper.

  “I wasn’t prepared for it, but I got by with help from my volunteers.”

  “It must be odd for you, given your background, working with a bunch of amateurs,” Gail commented. “What do you make of this?”

  Stella studied the broken shard of pottery Gail showed her. “I don’t know a lot about pottery. It looks like some of the stuff we saw in here when we answered the call.”

  “This isn’t any ordinary pottery.” Gail turned it over again in her gloved hand. “I’m pretty sure this is Seagrove pottery. I have some myself. Beautiful stuff.”

  “I’m sure Barney Falk had a lot of antiques and other expensive items in the house.” Stella picked up a melted computer. “There won’t be much left.”

  Gail and Stella continued moving and cataloguing items they found. Some, like the computer, were easy to recognize. Others—it was anybody’s guess.

  “Now you said Mr. Falk was found on the kitchen floor,” Gail said. “But you think he was upstairs in the bedroom, and the fire had burned through the floor, dropping him down.”

  “Yes. But not the fire. It was the explosion.”

  “Oh. Right. Any idea what caused that?”

  “No. Not right offhand. Obviously not C-4 or even dynamite. This was smaller, not as powerful.”

  Gail squinted up at her as she asked for help moving a large piece of furniture. It looked like what was left of a sofa. There were still some springs that were recognizable.

  “What’s that white powder in there?” Eric asked.

  Stella peered into the bottom of the sofa. There was some white powder that was left behind after the fire. She took out two small containers and labeled them before she scraped some of the powder into them. She also took a picture of the place where’d she found i
t.

  “What’s that you’ve got there?” Gail looked over Stella’s shoulder with inquisitive eyes.

  “I’m not sure. It doesn’t look like residue from the fire. I don’t think it’s ash. I thought I’d send it in to be analyzed.”

  “I’ll be glad to have that done for you.” Gail took one of the containers from her. “We can get it analyzed more quickly if I take it to the lab.”

  “Thanks.” Stella was surprised and pleased by her partner’s enthusiasm. She pocketed the other container.

  “Are you gonna trust her with that?” Eric asked.

  Stella couldn’t answer, but she saw no reason not to trust Gail with it. Eric was too used to working by himself when he was fire chief. Stella was used to working with a team that handled various parts of fires and investigations.

  By lunchtime, the two women had moved a sizable part of the debris, separating and cataloguing as they went. They sat down together in the front yard, eating lunches that Officer Richardson had brought them from the diner.

  “Are you married, Stella?” Gail asked as she picked up the large pickle that went with her chips and roast beef sandwich.

  “No.” Stella munched on her chips. “You?”

  “Yep. Twenty-five years. He’s a paramedic. We both love what we do, but we get too wrapped up in it sometimes. We have two kids, a boy and a girl. They don’t mind telling us when we’ve forgotten something we promised to do.”

  “I had my parents for that in Chicago.” Stella laughed. “Here, I’m on my own. It’s not always a good thing. I can’t remember to buy groceries.”

  “That’s the nature of the job. I was a fire chief for a few years in Nashville before I was offered this position. Your job is a lot more hectic than mine.”

  “That’s because she doesn’t come out this way unless someone rich and famous dies,” Eric said.

  “You must be tough to reach your position.” Stella saw a large, dark sedan pull up behind her Cherokee. “I was the first woman at my station back in Chicago. It wasn’t easy.”

  Gail agreed as she cleaned her hands on a napkin and got to her feet. “It wasn’t easy for me either. It never is when you’re a woman. Who have we got here?”

  Chapter 17

  Two men climbed out of the car as Stella got to her feet. It was easy to tell who worked for whom. The first man wore an expensive suit and shoes. He was dark haired and grinning before he reached them. The other man was thick and broad shouldered. He carefully surveyed the area as he followed his boss.

  “Ladies. I’m Barney Falk Jr. I wanted to come by and tell you how much I appreciate your efforts on behalf of my family.” He shook both their hands with eagerness before pressing a campaign button into their palms.

  Stella had seen his election signs around the area. At first, she’d thought it was the older man running for election again. John had enlightened her that this was Barney Falk’s son. He was running for his father’s old seat in the House of Representatives against Susan Clark.

  “Mr. Falk.” Gail smiled at him as she accepted his political button. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Yes. It’s been a hard time for us all.”

  “He could at least stop smiling while he’s saying it,” Eric observed. “It would take some of the fake emotion out of it.”

  Falk turned to Stella. “I believe I owe you another debt of gratitude, Chief Griffin. You helped save my son when he was trapped on that mountain trail.”

  “So I heard.” Stella put his political button in the pocket of her coveralls. “I’m glad he was all right.”

  “Yes. He was fortunate to have you and your volunteers on hand to help him and his friends.”

  There was something shifty about his eyes that Stella didn’t like. He didn’t speak his mind as his father had. Even though the older man was obnoxious, she would’ve trusted him more to tell the truth.

  “So you’re going through everything?” He gave the burned house a quick once-over and then turned away. “I can hardly stand to look at it. My father was from this area, you know. We moved to Nashville after he became state representative. I was raised on our estate there. But my heart has always been here in Sweet Pepper. We vacationed here when I was growing up. My roots run deep.”

  “Oh brother.” Eric walked away to look through more of the rubble.

  “My heart goes out to you and your family,” Gail assured him as two local TV trucks pulled up to join the group.

  Both women were interviewed—Stella more on her miraculous rescue of the college students on Dead Bear Trail than on fighting the fire that had destroyed the house.

  Gail spoke about the complexities of figuring out what had caused the fire that had taken the life of Barney Falk. She had to tell the camera crews that they couldn’t go any closer to the house.

  This made the TV news personality focus on Barney Falk Jr. and his political campaign to defeat the incumbent. The news crew even talked to Officer Richardson.

  The media left about twenty minutes before Chief Rogers arrived at the scene.

  Gail snickered. “A little too late, isn’t he?”

  She and Stella were back behind the house again by that time. Chief Rogers bypassed Officer Richardson and joined them there.

  “Ms. Griffin. Mrs. Hubbard.” He nodded to them.

  Stella noticed that he was wearing a new uniform. There were no coffee stains, and the crease in the pants was sharp.

  “Something we can do for you, Chief Rogers?” Gail’s voice was muffled by the face mask she wore.

  “Just wondering how things are going. When we can stop furnishing a deputy up here.”

  “I’m not sure about that yet. Chief Griffin and I will make that call.” Gail looked up at him with a container in her hands. “Anything else?”

  He smiled and adjusted his pants. “Have you all seen a TV news crew here from Nashville?”

  “You missed them,” Stella said. “You missed the candidate too.”

  “That’s too bad. I went to school with Barney at East Tennessee. He’s a good man.”

  “Not if he’s a friend of yours,” Eric remarked.

  “Okay.” Chief Rogers rocked back on his heels. “You two let me know when you learn something about all this. Or if you need anything. Have a nice day.”

  Gail watched him walk away. “Is he always so pompous?”

  “Yes.” Stella grinned. “Though I have it on good authority that he’s a very fine human being.”

  “It must be under that uniform somewhere.” Gail snorted at her own joke and went back to work.

  The sun was warm as the afternoon got started. There were sounds of boats on the lake and the strong, fishy smell of the water. Officer Richardson fell asleep in his police car. Gail and Stella worked side by side, identifying what they could as they progressed through the rubble.

  Stella had to quit at two p.m. This was going to be a long, slow process. She wanted to be at the practice session that afternoon. Her volunteers were going through a new drill none of them had ever tried before. She knew John could handle it—he had the training. She just wanted to be there.

  “Okay,” Gail said when Stella told her. “I’ll see you again tomorrow morning. I’m quitting too. I need to catch a shower and talk to my husband for a while. It’s his birthday tomorrow, and he’s a little pissy about me being in the field on important days.”

  “Wish him a happy birthday for me,” Stella said.

  “Leaving for the day?” Officer Richardson said as she reached him.

  “Yep. I’ll be back tomorrow. Thanks for all your help.”

  “Why are you going?” Eric asked when she was taking off her coveralls and putting away her gear. “Trump can handle the drill.”

  She got in the Cherokee with a last wave at Officer Richardson. “I know John can handle it. I want to be there. It’s not like we’re going to be done here within another couple of hours. Besides, this is Hero’s chance to show off his training. I know you
want to see that.”

  “I thought you’d want to get the investigation done first.”

  “We have to get the drills in where we can. I know you know that. Are you worried about the investigation?”

  “The longer it sits, the colder the trail is going to be.”

  She pulled the Cherokee into the road. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on this, Chief. Keeping my people going, getting them ready for calls—that’s what’s important to me.”

  “You coddle your people, you know.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re mine to coddle.”

  Eric talked about similar fires he’d investigated as they drove back through town. He’d had to work with bare-bones knowledge too. He’d had no formal training as either a firefighter or an arson investigator.

  “I thought by this time we’d have our own paramedic unit and ambulance too,” he said. “Nothing ever happens as fast as you think it should.”

  “That might be true in some cases.” She nodded toward the firehouse parking lot. “It looks like this one may have moved a little too fast.”

  “Nice boat. I guess Rufus decided not to wait for you to come to him.” There seemed to be an extra large group of people at the firehouse. Stella’s regulars were there, examining the boat, along with Frank Schneider. She recognized two other part-time police officers, though she didn’t know their names.

  “It looks like Don Rogers made good on his promise to send some volunteers our way.” She pulled into the parking lot.

  “I hate to always be the conspiracy theorist,” Eric said, “but why his sudden generosity? All this time he’s fought you tooth and nail. Why is he suddenly sharing troops with you?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.”

  Stella wasn’t sure if she cared that Don Rogers had an ulterior motive. Her ranks were depleted. Every call made her nervous, wondering if there would be enough people to handle it. Taking in these new volunteers, and getting Petey back, would make her feel better. She welcomed the new people with a handshake and a greeting. Tagger was in charge of having them sign up.

  “I thought I was coming to your place to see the boat.” She smiled up at Rufus after dealing with the new recruits.