by J. J. Cook
“He’ll get over it. You’ll see. I chose him to succeed me,” Walt reminded her. “He’ll come out right in the end.”
Stella looked at her watch again. “I hate to kick you out, Walt, but I really have to go. Thanks for hanging around after John left.”
“Glad to do it.” He squinted, peering around the room. “Eric, take care, buddy. We won’t let you lose your cabin.”
Stella walked out on Walt’s heels with Hero following her to the Cherokee.
Eric also followed her without a second’s hesitation. “I know Chief Rogers wants John in your place. That’s not gonna happen now. He’ll accept it eventually.”
Hero jumped into the backseat an instant before she slammed the door to the Cherokee shut behind her. “I guess you were listening, at least part of the time.”
“We both know what happened last night,” Eric reminded her. “Your police chief might be involved.”
“I don’t know.” She started the engine and began driving down Firehouse Road. “He always talks like that. I don’t think he actually suspects me of anything. He’s probably just looking after his own butt. He might not be police chief much longer if people don’t trust him.”
“Looking after his own butt.” Eric smiled and shook his head. “I like that. You’ve brought some colorful language into my life, Stella.”
They let Hero out at the firehouse. Kimmie and David were taking him and Sylvia for their fire dog training in Knoxville. The two volunteers hugged Stella and told her how happy they were that she was safe. The dogs barked as they played in the parking lot.
“You let us know if there is anything we can do for you, Chief,” David said.
“I will. Thanks.” Stella thought about it. “As a matter of fact, I’m looking for recipes for the Sweet Pepper Festival.”
The two exchanged glances. “How many recipes do you want, Chief?” Kimmie asked.
“As many as you want to give me. They should be recipes with hot peppers in them.”
“Can we get them to you tomorrow?” David asked.
“Sure. That would be great.” Stella smiled. “Thanks.”
She left Hero with them and headed for Sweet Pepper. Maybe Kimmie and David would have enough recipes that she wouldn’t have to ask anyone else.
“Hero is really progressing in his training,” Eric said. “I’m not sure about Sylvia. She might be too timid.”
“You could be right.” Stella glanced at the dozens of election signs tacked up along the road. However this came out, she wasn’t voting for Barney Falk Jr.
The Cherokee took the high hill going into the Sunset Beach community like a champ. The Falk house had been the first on the right. Gail’s truck wasn’t there. Dozens of children and adults were standing around watching the backhoe pick up debris and load it into the bed of a large dump truck.
“What’s going on?” Eric asked.
“I don’t know.” Stella parked the Cherokee and jumped out. “Hey! What are you doing?”
The truck driver shrugged. “Picking up this burned stuff. Is there a problem?”
“Wait right there.” Stella ran to the backhoe and flagged down the operator. “What’s going on? You shouldn’t be taking this away yet. The arson investigation isn’t finished.”
The young man operating the backhoe stopped. “I’m only doing my job, ma’am. They tell me where to go and what to do.”
“Well they told you wrong. Let me see your work orders.”
He handed her the documents. Stella opened the packet and read the papers. The address was correct. The work orders involved total cleanup and dumping the debris from the house.
“Who gave you this?” She kept reading.
“My boss, Phil Roth. He owns and develops this community. He built it all. He says go get the stuff, I go get the stuff.”
At the end of the work order was what Stella had been waiting to see. The signature at the bottom was Gail Hubbard’s. She had signed off, saying the investigation was over.
“I don’t care what your boss says,” Stella told him. “Don’t move this equipment again until I get back. Got it?” She showed him her badge.
He shrugged and turned off the backhoe. “Okay. It’s your skin if Mr. Roth gets mad.”
“I can take it.” Stella jumped back into the Cherokee and revved the engine before she took off down the road toward town.
“I can’t believe Gail would sign off on this.” She hit her hand on the steering wheel out of pure frustration. “We barely scratched the surface of what was in there. We have no idea what made that small explosion. How could she do that?”
“Maybe she was coerced. Maybe one of Falk’s men paid her a visit too.”
“Maybe so.” Stella stopped at the traffic light in Sweet Pepper on Main Street. “I guess I’ll drive to Nashville and pay her a call. I was scared too. We can’t let Falk Jr. get away with this because we’re scared.”
Stella’s cell phone rang. It was Brad Whitman. He wanted her to meet him at the coffee shop. She hesitated, almost too angry to talk to him before she had a good explanation of what had happened at the site.
She finally decided to see him right away since she was still in town. Maybe he should know what was going on. Stella made a U-turn into a parking lot to go back to the coffee shop she’d just passed. As soon as the tires hit Main Street again a flashing light came on from a Sweet Pepper police vehicle behind her.
“What now?” She pulled over into a parking space.
“Intimidation,” Eric said. “The oldest game around.”
Stella got out of the Cherokee even though she knew she was supposed to stay put.
It was Officer Richardson. He looked nervous. He scratched his fringe of black hair and pulled on his hat. “Chief Griffin.”
“Officer Richardson.”
“I observed you attempting to avoid the traffic light by making an illegal U-turn into the parking lot over there.”
“I wasn’t trying to avoid anything.” Even though she knew it was Chief Rogers reaching out to make her life miserable, she couldn’t let it go. “I sat at the red light until I got an emergency call. I could’ve put on my lights and siren and gone through it. You know that. What’s really up?”
Skeet Richardson’s chubby fingers scrawled a warning citation on his pad of paper. “Next time use your lights, Chief Griffin. I won’t ticket you this time. We have to abide by our laws, don’t we?”
Stella was mad enough to throw his warning citation back at him. She bit her tongue and held on to the warning, managing to keep her cool and even smile when it was over. “Thanks, Officer. I hope it’s not your home that’s on fire the next time someone stops me for something this stupid on the way to an emergency.”
Officer Richardson swallowed hard and tipped his hat to her. “Only doing my job, ma’am. I have to follow orders like everyone else.”
Stella stalked into the coffee shop after locking the Cherokee at the curb.
“It wasn’t his fault.” Eric stood up for Richardson. “He was only doing what his boss told him.”
“I’m a little tired of that excuse right now,” she muttered.
Brad Whitman stood at his table when he saw her. “Coffee?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.” She slammed the warning citation on the table. “I think Chief Rogers is trying to send me a message.”
He sat down again. “You cut him up, Stella. No one likes to look like a fool.”
“That wasn’t my priority after being hit in the head and kidnapped last night. I made a connection between the drugs that were confiscated off the trail and the cocaine I believe I found in Falk’s house. I wasn’t passing judgment on his ability as police chief.”
“I’ll talk to him, if you like.”
“No, thanks. I’ll handle it.”
“I hear the arson investigation has gone so well that the state investigator has signed off on it.” He sipped his coffee.
Stella took a seat opposite h
im. “Right. Because one day is enough to figure everything out. I think someone tried to coerce her like they did me.”
“She may have had a similar experience to yours last night,” Brad said. “Have you spoken with her today?”
“No. Not yet. Lucky we sent in some debris samples yesterday,” Stella said. “At least we have that.”
He shook his head. “Sorry. I checked. No samples were logged by the state arson investigator.”
“Come on!” Stella sat back in her seat. “That’s too much. How are we ever going to prove what happened out there?”
“I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “This all ties together. We have to figure out how. And I mean we as in the TBI. Don’t assume because the investigation has been called off that you’re safe, Stella. Stay out of this now. Work with your volunteers, and don’t worry about Falk’s death.”
“Has the coroner ruled if his death was caused by something fire related?”
“The coroner has ruled that the death was attributable to the fire. He won’t say anything more yet. I’m afraid there’s no help there.”
“And no evidence of what caused the explosion I heard?” She sighed. “I think I’ll have that coffee after all. Make mine mocha. I need the chocolate to get through the rest of the day.”
“Like I said, we’ll figure it out. We usually do. I have a few theories right now. Your part is over. Don’t take any chances.”
“All right. I’d like to have a few words with Gail.”
“Please don’t. The two of you getting together could expose you both to further violence. You’re a fire chief. She’s an arson investigator. Neither of you are equipped to do police work.”
“I hear you, Brad. I won’t get in the middle of it.”
He paid for both their coffees and left the coffee shop.
Stella saw him head into town hall. “I hope he doesn’t say anything to Chief Rogers.”
“He said he wouldn’t,” Eric reminded her.
“People have a way of following their own directions sometimes.”
“Speaking of which, you’re not going to get further involved in this, right?”
“Absolutely not.” She sipped her coffee and stared out the window at the people going by on the sidewalk. “Whatever happens, the police and the TBI can handle it.”
Eric sighed, a sound like a breeze going through the coffee shop. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Chapter 23
Stella drove back out to the site. She argued with Eric the whole way.
“I’m only going to see what’s happening out here. I know the investigation is over.”
Eric knew better. He knew Stella well enough to understand that she didn’t like loose ends. She was stubborn that way. He was afraid for her. “You can wait and read about it in the paper,” he said. “You’re going out there because you don’t want to give up.”
“Maybe. But I promised Brad that I wouldn’t interfere. I’m not going to say anything to anyone. Okay?”
“Outside of keeping you in the truck for the rest of your life there’s not much I can do about it, but it’s against my better judgment.”
“Seriously?” She turned off the Cherokee when they had reached the site again.
“You knew that I locked those men in their trucks last night. No big deal. I’m discovering new things I can do all the time. I think it might be because I’m getting out of the cabin. My horizons have expanded.”
The site was empty. Even the spectators had left the property once the dump truck and backhoe had shut down. Stella didn’t know where the drivers were, but she doubted that they’d be gone for long.
“This is our last chance to find a detonator or something else that could have led to an explosion,” she told Eric. “Let’s look around. You can get in and out of what’s left of the debris. I’ll search the area around it.”
“Is this your idea of not being involved?”
“Humor me. Help me prove what’s going on. I know you’re interested too.”
“But they can’t kill me again.”
“We’ll only stay until the drivers come back. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Eric disappeared. Stella began slowly walking around the site. As she’d thought, there were bits of debris everywhere that had been dropped by the backhoe. She found a blackened cell phone and a charred shoe. There were some plates and glasses that were black with soot but had survived the fire intact to be carted off to the dump.
She believed she was a minimalist sort of person—not many personal possessions—because she’d seen so many spots like this after fires. It made her cringe to think of all the small bits and pieces that made up life. It felt to her as though nothing, including fire, could take much from her.
Stella had never discussed this philosophy, although many of her friends in Chicago had remarked on the absence of “stuff” in her apartment. There were no pictures, no bric-a-brac. Eric had more things in his cabin than she’d brought with her from Chicago even though he’d been dead for decades.
All of Barney Falk’s possessions were colored with smoke and laid out for the world to see. No sign of a detonator or anything else that could’ve caused an explosion.
She’d never be able to prove what had happened. Without evidence, it meant nothing that she and her crew had heard the loud pop before the fire had started. Whoever had shut down this investigation knew that. He or she had played their hand and protected themselves from any prosecution.
Sighing, she looked out at the beautiful lake at the back of the property. The fireboat idea could work on these lots. There wasn’t enough room on a few of them to even get a truck behind the house. She hoped the town council would agree to fund the project.
A brown Jeep pulled up behind the Cherokee. A tall, tanned man, probably in his early fifties, got out. He wore a blue down vest over a blue plaid shirt. The wind blew at his thick white hair as he buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“Who’s that?” Eric was instantly beside her.
“I don’t know. Did you find anything?” She tried her best to talk without moving her lips. If she spent much more time with Eric she might want to take up ventriloquism.
“Good morning, Chief Griffin.” The stranger held his hand out to her. “I’m Phil Roth. I developed this property. Shame about losing Barney. He was a great guy.”
Stella shook his hand but frowned as her eyes met his. “It’s a tragedy when anyone dies in a fire.”
“Yes it is.” He stared at the rubble. “I understand you have a plan to keep this from happening again.”
She wasn’t surprised that he knew. “Yes. The fire brigade is going to approach the town council about the purchase of a fireboat. If we’d had one the day of this fire we might have been able to save more of the house.”
“But not Barney’s life, huh?”
“We’ll never know. This fire wasn’t an accident, Mr. Roth. I don’t know if someone set out to kill Mr. Falk or if there was something else involved. We may never know.”
“That’s odd. I received an email report from the state arson investigator.” He frowned. “That report didn’t mention any of this. I can show you on my phone, if you like.”
“I believe you, Mr. Roth. I think some mistakes have been made in the investigation. I can’t prove much now.” She didn’t want to say anything more to him.
“I see. Call me Phil. I hope we’ll get to know each other well enough that I can call you Stella.”
“Of course.”
“So you think a fireboat is the answer?” he asked.
“To lakeside fires, yes.” She pointed out the limited area behind most of the houses and the steep drop-offs to the lake. “It would give us a better vantage point to fight the fires and probably save your residents money on their home insurance.”
“I can see you’ve thought this out, Stella. I think you’re on the right track.”
“Thanks.”
“Maybe we co
uld have lunch and talk about this. You eat, right?”
She laughed, her creamy, freckled complexion turning red as she considered what Eric would make of his invitation. “I definitely eat. Lunch would be great.”
“Good.” He had a nice smile. “How about today? Say noon at the café?”
“Sure. I’ll be there.”
They shook hands, their fingers lingering before they parted. She waved to Phil as he pulled out from behind the Cherokee.
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” Eric complained. “I said you should find someone—not dozens of suitors.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He was a nice man who offered to buy me lunch. Maybe I can convince him to help push the town council into funding the fireboat.”
“And that’s why your face got all red and your pulse was zooming. Typical.”
“My face got red from the cold wind—I have delicate skin and freckles. It happens. As for my pulse, don’t even go there. I don’t want to hear anything about you monitoring my vital functions.”
“It’s your life.” He shrugged. “If you’d rather play the field than settle down with one nice man, that’s up to you.”
“Did you find anything in the pile or not?” That was enough about her personal life.
“No. Not what you were looking for. I checked through everything on the truck too. It’s possible Gail removed a detonator when you weren’t here.”
Stella couldn’t argue with that. “I don’t know what else to do right now.”
She opened her investigation kit and found the container of white powder—the one she hadn’t given to Gail. She’d forgotten all about it.
“I still have this powder. I could have it checked to see if it’s cocaine. And I have the pictures I took of where I found it. It won’t prove anything except that cocaine was here. Barney Falk’s death will still be unresolved, at least as far as I’m concerned. But it’s better than nothing. They must have gotten to Gail if she didn’t send in the samples she had.”
“Are you going to give it to John to be tested?”
“I don’t know. John won’t be able to send it to the lab without Chief Rogers knowing about it. I don’t want to cause any more trouble between them.”
