by J. J. Cook
“The district attorney already dropped charges against us for possession. He understood what I was talking about. Apparently, there’s a problem with people dropping off drugs for hikers to pick up. We weren’t involved.”
“That’s a good thing.” Stella kept her opinion to herself.
“Money and power can still buy justice,” Eric said.
“I’m sure you’ve met my father.” Chip grinned. “His picture is plastered all over the highway. You can’t miss him on TV.”
“That’s true,” she agreed. “In fact I had a little run-in with some people who wanted to put his election posters on the outside of the firehouse.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll speak to my dad about it.”
“It’s okay. I know how to say what’s needed.” She smiled at him. “Why did you invite me out for coffee, Chip?”
“I wanted to thank you, of course. You probably saved my life—mine and my other stupid friends’.” He sipped nervously at his drink. “There was something else, Chief Griffin. How did my granddad die?”
“We haven’t received word from the coroner, but it looks like he died in the fire.”
“And what about your investigation into the fire?” He leaned closer and whispered, “How did the fire start?”
“We only started working on that this morning. It’s hard to say right now. I think there was something that caused the fire, possibly something unusual that shouldn’t have been in the house. Or it might have been something as simple as a can of deodorant.”
“You mean an accelerant?”
She nodded. “Something that caused a small explosion.”
“Not like a gas can or something, right?”
“Probably not like that, although I can’t tell you what it was right now.”
“Do you think my granddad was murdered?”
“I really can’t speak to that yet.” Stella sipped her Vanilla Coke. “Why are you asking me these questions? Did the family receive a threat? Had your grandfather spoken of someone who might want to see him dead?”
Chip backed off quickly. “No. Of course not. Everyone loved my grandfather. He did a lot for the people of Sweet Pepper and the rest of his district. I was just curious. It seemed odd to me, his death. I was wondering. That’s all.”
“Something’s up with that,” Eric said. “Take him to the police station. I’ll bet if someone gets tough with him, he’ll spill the beans.”
Stella wished Eric was telepathic so she could tell him to shut up and stop being so annoying. Instead she concentrated on Chip, who looked incredibly guilty about something.
“I’m sure your father will get a complete report from the coroner and the state arson investigator. I’m really only helping her.”
“Okay. I see.” Chip was still collecting himself. “Thanks for your time, Chief Griffin. I appreciate all your hard work.”
“If you need any help . . .” She handed him one of the hundreds of business cards the town had had made for her. “Give me a call.”
“I will. Thanks.” He stood up a little painfully. His shoulder seemed to hurt him more than he let on. “It was very nice meeting you.”
He reminded Stella of a young boy trying to mimic his father and grandfather in speech and demeanor. No doubt he was being groomed to succeed his father one day in state government.
There was only one thing Stella was curious about. “Why did your father wait until so late to run for your grandfather’s seat in the statehouse?”
“He was in the military. He served three tours in Afghanistan and another two in Iraq. My granddad thought it would be good for him. I plan to join the military too at some point. My granddad retired unexpectedly, before my dad got back. Susan Clark stepped in and beat the man who was appointed to that seat.”
Stella nodded. “Politics, huh?”
“Best game in town.” Chip grinned, revealing how he felt about the job he’d be expected to do in about twenty years.
They parted company. Stella said goodbye to Valery and walked back out on the street.
“You know—”
“I know. You don’t trust him. You think he’s lying. You think I should talk to Chief Rogers about him.”
“Actually, I was going to remind you that you have to shop before you go home.”
“Thanks. You’re worse than a reminder on my cell phone.” She got in the Cherokee and headed out of town.
“But for the record,” Eric continued, “I think he’s lying. He’s got some idea about what happened to his grandfather, and he was on the trail after picking up his drugs.”
“And you think I should tell Chief Rogers.”
“It would probably be a good idea—at least about the part that doesn’t pertain to the fire. Obviously, that’s up to you and Gail Hubbard. Just remember that you’re the fire chief. You don’t investigate police matters.”
Stella smiled at him and pointed her cell phone in his direction, tapping her finger on it a few times. “Where’s your off button?”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh. That’s right. Madam Emery said to leave your badge at home or out in the truck while I’m shopping if you get too annoying.”
“You wouldn’t leave me outside.”
“I thought you didn’t want to shop.”
“I realized that I haven’t been in a grocery store for forty years. I haven’t asked you for a lot, Stella. You have to take me inside with you. No telling what kinds of foods are out now that weren’t available before.”
“Well then let’s not talk about Chip or Chief Rogers anymore.”
He agreed, and they made good time to the Save and Shop in Pigeon Forge.
Stella walked into the large grocery store with Eric beside her. She grabbed a big blue shopping cart. “Let’s pick up as much as we can. That makes for fewer shopping excursions.”
She glanced to her left in what she hoped was an unobtrusive manner. Eric was gone. She saw his back disappearing down the first aisle. Dairy.
He was literally like a kid in a candy store. He exclaimed over every type of product he hadn’t seen before. Some of the items he begged Stella to put in the cart. Others mysteriously found their way into the cart without her help.
“I only make so much money,” she complained through gritted teeth.
“Maybe you need another job,” said a woman standing behind her.
Stella laughed it off and followed Eric. “Seriously, not only will we run out of money, we’ll run out of places to put everything. We’ve only gone down one aisle and you’ve got as much food as the refrigerator will hold.”
“We need a bigger refrigerator,” he informed her. “As for finances, I’ve seen you use that card to pay for things. I guess people don’t run out of money anymore because there’s no money.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” A box of Frosted Flakes sailed into the cart. Stella put it back on the shelf. “You can’t eat any of this.”
“No. But I could watch you or Walt eat it. You should have friends over for dinner.”
“We’ve had this conversation before. Everyone is afraid to come to the cabin. You’ve managed to scare them all away through the years.”
“I’m sure Tagger would come over. John and that new recruit, what’s his name? The one who’s already mooning over you?”
Stella put three cans of green beans back on the shelf. “Are you talking about Rufus?”
“That’s him. He’d come to be near you. Walt would come over. Flo might come.”
“Rufus isn’t mooning over me.” She followed him quickly around a corner. “And I’m not sure where all these people would sit and eat.”
“There’s plenty of room in the cabin,” Eric disagreed.
Stella looked at two cans of boiled peanuts that he’d pushed into the cart. “Boiled peanuts? Really? What are you supposed to do with them?”
“You eat them,” a familiar voice responded.
“Rufus.” Stella glared at Eric for leading
her into this ambush. “Imagine seeing you here.”
“Not too much of a surprise since this is the closest grocery store to Sweet Pepper.” Rufus laughed. “If you don’t like boiled peanuts, why buy them?”
“For our guests,” Eric said. “One of whom may be you if you’re lucky.”
“They kind of fell into the cart.”
“You must only shop once a week.” Rufus scanned her rapidly filling cart.
“No. I try to come down once a month. I’m not much of a shopper. I wish they had more food at the convenience store. That way I’d never have to come here.”
“Why?” Eric demanded. “This place is like heaven, Stella. If I’d died and woken up here you wouldn’t get any complaint from me.”
“I know what you mean,” Rufus said. “I only come when I have to, but that little bit of chicken scratch wouldn’t last me a month.”
“It won’t last us a month either,” Eric quipped. “Not anymore. Woo-hoo! They’ve got bratwurst. I haven’t seen that since I worked in Minnesota.”
“I don’t cook much,” Stella told Rufus, wishing Eric would pipe down. She let him run around the corner of the next aisle without trying to follow him. She hoped he wouldn’t levitate any food into the cart from that far away. It would be difficult to cover up.
“Enough said.” Rufus smiled. “Come and eat dinner with me. I’ll cook. All you have to do is eat and keep me company.”
Stella wasn’t sure about that. It wasn’t her mixed-up relationship with John, or that she’d just met Rufus. She didn’t know if she wanted the reputation that Eric had talked about. Sweet Pepper was a very small community. She didn’t want to date every single man before she was there two years.
“Just say yes.” Eric waited until Rufus had looked away before he dumped a few more canned goods into the cart with several packages of bratwurst. “I want to see what he’s got.”
“Even if I go you’re not coming,” Stella promised Eric without thinking.
Rufus stared back at her. “Were you talking to me?”
“No.” She grinned. “It was that other shopper. Didn’t you see him?”
“I didn’t see anyone else.” He looked down at the bratwurst and then back at her. “So what do you say? Dinner. My place. Friday night, sevenish.”
“Okay. Where do you live?”
“The marina at Sunset Beach. Slip forty.”
“You live on a boat?”
“Where else? See you then.”
Rufus walked past her and up the next aisle. Stella told herself that it was okay. She’d never been a heavy dater. Most of her life had been taken up by her ex-boyfriend, Doug. But this was good. She couldn’t wait around forever for John to forget that she was part of the Carson family and ask her out again. She wasn’t even sure that she wanted him to.
By the time she’d reached the produce aisle, Stella could hardly find room in her cart for a few bananas. This wasn’t going to work. She was going to have to figure out something different if Eric was going to shop with her.
“What in the world are these?” he asked with a big grin on his handsome, ghostly face.
“I think they call them star fruit. I’ve never eaten one.”
“Good. Let’s get a few. You can describe them to me.”
He was having such a good time. Stella hated to tell him it was over, and that half of what he’d gotten was going back on the shelves.
“This is too much food,” she whispered as she pretended to closely examine some sweet potatoes. “I’m not joking about the money. Food is expensive. Not to mention that most of this would spoil before it could be eaten. And I don’t like bratwurst. Isn’t it enough to look at it here?”
Eric heaved a large sigh. “I guess that will have to do. If you’re going to date I can go with you and see all kinds of new food in restaurants.”
“You can’t go with me on a date. That’s not open for discussion.”
“Then I’ll put back the bratwurst and we’ll get some other canned goods.”
She finally agreed, and they walked back through the store getting rid of some of the extras without taking on too many replacements.
It was still an expensive buying spree. She was glad that she hadn’t needed dog food for Hero at the same time. They took the food out to the Cherokee, packed up, and headed back for Sweet Pepper.
“So you like Rufus,” Eric said as they turned off the main road.
“He’s okay considering I haven’t known him that long. Why are you so excited about me dating? Have you considered that I might get married and move away with my new husband?”
“Not as long as you’re dating someone from Sweet Pepper.”
“Rufus lives on a boat. He probably wouldn’t want to live in the cabin.”
“A boat? Why would anyone live on a boat when they could live in the cabin that I built with my own two hands? I cut every tree and set every log in place. I know where every nail is.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “But you might not be too happy with the outcome of me dating.”
Eric seemed to think about that for a minute. “I guess you’re right. Don’t date the man with the boat. Let’s find someone who appreciates the cabin.”
Stella laughed. She’d started to respond when she noticed a car in a ditch on the side of the road. She couldn’t tell if there was a driver inside. She slowed down and pulled behind the car.
“I’m going to check this out. Someone could be hurt.”
“Don’t take too long. We have frozen food in the back.”
Stella got out with her flashlight and approached the car. The hood was all the way down in the deep ditch that the county maintained for runoff from snow and heavy rain that flooded the Little Pigeon River and its tributaries.
“Anyone out here?” she called, still not able to see into the car in the darkness.
No one answered. She inched closer into the ditch to get beside the car. Her foot slid on some wet grass, but she remained upright. She called out again. There was still no reply. It looked like a problem for the county sheriff. She was too far out of Sweet Pepper to expect town police to answer.
Stella glanced back toward the Cherokee. Eric was in the front seat. He glowed and shimmered softly in the dark with the streetlight above him. She took out her cell phone to call the sheriff.
Something hard hit the back of her head. The last thing she heard was Eric calling her name.
Chapter 21
Stella woke up suddenly. She was tied upright in a ladder-back chair. The floor was concrete under her booted feet. It was dark. There was some residual light, possibly from a streetlight outside the dirty windows around her.
If she had to guess, it appeared to be an old factory—possibly one of those on the main road between Sevierville and Sweet Pepper. She wasn’t sure how long those old buildings had been there. Windows and doors were broken in. She’d spoken to the highway patrol and other state agencies about tearing them down. They were nothing but firetraps.
“And good places to drop someone off,” she muttered to herself.
Her head hurt. What had happened? She didn’t call out for help, fearful that whoever had attacked her was still there. She wondered why Eric hadn’t exerted some of his “ghostly powers” on her behalf.
“You’re awake,” Eric said as in answer to her unspoken thoughts. “It’s been at least an hour since they transported you here.”
“Are we alone?”
“There are two men outside smoking.”
“Why didn’t you stop them? You could’ve done something to keep them from bringing me here. I can understand that you couldn’t stop me from getting hit in the head—that happened too quickly. I don’t understand why you just followed me here.”
“Don’t you want to know who’s responsible?”
“What?” The fierceness behind her question made her head hurt. “Of course I want to know who’s responsible. It didn’t have to be up close and personal.”
“I thought this was the best strategy, what you’d want me to do. I could’ve scared them off once you were down. I thought you’d want things to unfold. I could see you weren’t seriously hurt.”
Stella wiggled her hands in the rope that held them behind her. “Okay. Fine. Let’s have a strategy meeting before something like this happens again. I need to teach you how to use the cell phone. Untie my hands.”
She could feel his strange, tingly touch on her wrists. It was like static electricity harnessed to a specific purpose. He could use it to move things and, hopefully, manipulate the ropes.
“We’re not alone.” He lowered his voice even though he knew she was the only one who could hear him.
Strange how habit could affect even a ghost.
Her hands were free, but she didn’t move. Footsteps from the two men Eric had told her about echoed across the empty building as they came near. One of them shined a flashlight in her eyes. She blinked and turned her head away.
“Chief Griffin,” a gruff voice addressed her. “Sorry we had to do it this way. We have a request.”
“More a demand,” the second voice said.
“Are you crazy dragging me here this way?” she demanded angrily. “How did you know where I’d be or that I’d stop to check out that car?”
“We followed you,” one of them snickered. “And once a do-gooder, always a do-gooder.”
“You’re involved in an investigation at Representative Falk’s house. There may be some things you find there that aren’t for public knowledge. Keep your mouth shut and we’ll make it worthwhile. Say anything and you’ll be sorry.”
“What kind of things?” She tried to see the faces behind the flashlight, but it was too bright. She thought she recognized one of their voices.
“You’ll know when you see them,” the distinctive voice of the second man responded.
“Are you talking about the white powder I found inside the sofa? I’m assuming it’s cocaine. Am I right?”
“If I were you I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to show off what you know,” the first man said. “Keep this to yourself, if you know what’s good for you.”
