by J. J. Cook
“I think I found it.” Eric was suddenly sitting beside her on the bed.
“Your will?”
He handed the document to her. There was that familiar feeling of having been zapped by static electricity as their fingers met. “The last will and testament of Eric Gamlyn.”
Stella studied the yellowed paper and scrawling handwriting. Most of it was about bequests he’d made to various community groups. “I guess you really did find gold up north, huh? Or being fire chief paid better back then.”
He laughed. “It didn’t pay anything. Fire chief was a volunteer position too.”
“Good thing that changed or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” She smiled and shook her head. “Eric! You were wealthy. You spent all your money on Sweet Pepper and then gave them this property.”
“What else was I gonna do with it? There was no wife, no children, to think about.”
“Still. No wonder everyone loved you.” She continued to read his will. “This is a huge piece of property—two hundred acres. You’ve got a lot of river frontage too. That’s expensive now.”
“Look at the bottom part.” He pointed a lightly glowing finger at the paragraph she was reading. “See the conditions set for the town to keep the property?”
Stella scanned the words. “So the town has to keep the whole two hundred acres intact, including the cabin and the firehouse? They can’t sell it at all?”
“That’s what I thought I remembered. I can’t explain it, but it gets a little confusing sometimes between when I was alive and now.”
“You did die in between. I think we should allow for that being traumatic.”
“Don’t you think that should take care of the problem? What was the town council thinking anyway?”
Stella shrugged. “Maybe they haven’t read this. It’s been a long time. I’ll call my grandfather’s lawyer tomorrow and let him take a look at it.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“What else is over there in your boxes?”
“Pictures. Medals. Things people collect over a lifetime, even a short lifetime.”
“Well, I promise not to snoop—at least as long as you’re here.” She got up from the bed. “I’m going to sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
“Where’s that detonator?”
“It’s downstairs. Why?”
“I thought I’d look it up on the Internet.”
“Knock yourself out. Goodnight, Eric.”
“Goodnight, Stella.”
She could hear the sadness in his voice. Sometimes he was depressed about how his life had ended and the things he’d meant to do that would never happen. Probably finding his will again had made him a little mopey about the past. Seeing his old girlfriend hadn’t helped either.
“You know you did more in thirty-five years than most people do in eighty. I know there are lots of things you regret not being able to do, and I’m sorry for that. But you’re still a great man. Thanks for your help again tonight.”
Eric didn’t reply. Stella went to bed, leaving him upstairs with his stuff. Sometime during the night she heard music, an old song she remembered from when she was a child. She listened to the slow, sad verse and then went back to sleep.
Hush, hush, sweet Charlotte, I’ll love you till I die.
*
It was Friday morning. Thick frost covered everything, glistening in the sun like diamonds. Stella grabbed a Coke and a Pop-Tart, stuck Eric’s badge in her pocket, and went out to the Cherokee.
“Anything on that detonator?” she asked when she saw him beside her as she scraped the windshield.
“Not that I could find.” He blew hard on a side window and wrote his name in the frost. “The Internet is a wealth of information, though. Did you know you can clean rust stains with tomato juice?”
She grinned. “I had no idea.”
Despite the workout the fire brigade had the night before there was still practice and drills to go through. The birth of Banyin’s baby and their success rescuing their colleague made everyone slightly sassy as they came into the firehouse.
Stella was glad to see her volunteers appreciated in the newspapers and on TV. They worked hard and deserved the praise they got. They even deserved the back-slapping and high-fiving they gave one another as they came in for practice.
Walt Fenway came to the firehouse as they were getting on their gear. He congratulated them on their good work, but he also came with bad news.
“The police are holding Jake responsible for the accident last night. They say people heard him and Banyin arguing at Scooter’s. He was drinking too much too. He didn’t stop for the right of way and he was weaving. Chief Rogers says he wasn’t looking where he was going.”
Royce whistled between his teeth. “Tough break. Was he drunk?”
“Not drunk, I guess.” Walt shrugged. “Banyin and the baby went home from the hospital early this morning. Her mama picked her up and took her home to where she lives in Frog Pond.”
Petey shook her head. “That’s even worse news. I know they’ve been arguing a lot about Banyin going back to work at the library and starting back here. Jake doesn’t get her commitment.”
Petey rerouted the firehouse basket she’d sent to the hospital so it would go to Frog Pond. There wasn’t much more to say.
Stella reminded everyone that they were there to practice, not to gossip. “Let’s get out there. We have a show to put on tomorrow at Beau’s. We can’t sit around on our butts all day.”
Petey, Stella, and Tagger watched the new recruits get in some time with the hoses. Walt laughed at the part-time officers, Clyde and Nancy. It wasn’t easy getting a handle on how to control the high-pressure hoses.
Nancy, with her red hair going gray, laughed back. Stella liked the easy-going new recruit who had a love of reading and was always looking for the next cruise she and her husband could go on.
“Hey, Walt,” John yelled. “Why don’t you come up here and show them how it’s done?”
“Give me a gun, and I’ll shoot it,” Walt said. “That’s the only thing I know.”
“That’s what I thought,” JC fired back.
By the end of the drill, Hampton and Bradford were doing better with the hoses. Stella started them on carrying the sixty pounds of hose up the ladder to the second floor.
“What are we supposed to show off tomorrow, Chief?” Petey asked. “Hose practice?”
“I hope not.” Tagger grinned. “Maybe we could wax the trucks real pretty and people would admire them enough to give us some money for the fireboat.”
“Yeah,” Walt added. “How’s that coming, by the way, Stella?”
“I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“The chief has a date with Rufus tonight.” Tagger smiled and rolled his eyes. “Guess we’ll know what’s what when he gets all the good jobs.”
“Are there any good jobs?” Petey asked.
“Not from what I’ve seen,” Walt agreed. “But I think it’s good that the chief has some male companionship.”
Stella could tell Eric was enjoying the conversation. It was probably a lot like being with his fire brigade forty years ago, standing in the sun, watching the drills. She was glad to see him smile again after they’d found his will.
“The chief has plenty of male companionship,” Tagger said. “She lives with Eric. She doesn’t need anyone else.”
“I’m right here,” Stella reminded them.
“I don’t blame the chief for wanting to have dinner with Rufus.” Petey’s smile was dreamy. “I wish he were here right now. He could ask me out anytime.”
“Where is Rufus anyway?” John asked.
“He couldn’t make practice,” Petey said. “But he called in.”
“I have a good idea about tomorrow.” Stella changed the subject. “If we can find a practice car, we could let Hero and Sylvia rescue a few of you.”
“Light a car on fire with all those people standing around?” P
etey asked. “Would that be safe?”
“I wasn’t thinking about saving someone from a fire,” Stella said. “We could practice an accident scenario, like rescuing Banyin last night. People will love watching the dogs.”
“Good idea,” Walt said. “I have a junk car you could use. Max Morrison over at the towing shop owes me a favor. I’ll have him tow it to Beau’s for the show.”
“It’s all settled then.” Stella blew her whistle and changed drills.
She wanted as many people involved with the pretend rescue as she could. She wasn’t worried about the older members of the group. They knew what to do. It might be best to put Clyde and Nancy—the newest members—inside the car to be rescued. She wasn’t worried about Rufus—he seemed to be a natural.
Stella explained to the group that she needed as many fire brigade members at the event as possible. “We could bring in some new recruits with this event and raise money for the fireboat and other equipment.” She explained her idea to show off their skills. “This is a good opportunity to raise awareness for everything we do.”
“It doesn’t hurt that it comes right after what happened last night,” JC said. “Heck, my grandma called from Knoxville because she saw me on TV.”
Everyone agreed with him. It sounded as though most of the volunteers would find a way to be at Beau’s.
David wouldn’t be present. He had to go out of town for work. Kimmie would be there with Sylvia. It was agreed that Stella would bring Hero to Beau’s too.
“Okay then.” Stella smiled at her volunteers. “You guys did a great job last night, but you always do a great job. Keep that in mind for the times that we aren’t so successful. I’ll see all of you tomorrow. Don’t forget, I need your reports if you were on the scene last night.”
There was further back-slapping and self-congratulation ringing through the firehouse as the fire brigade members changed clothes and got ready to go. Stella smiled as she heard them while she worked on her report in her office.
Walt knocked at her door. “You got a minute for me?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“I’ve heard a few rumors about what happened out at Barney Falk’s place.” He closed the door and sat in a chair. “Just wondering how true they are.”
Stella sat back in her chair. She knew Walt always had his ear to the ground. As the former Sweet Pepper police chief, he knew everyone and liked to keep up with things.
“What have you heard?” she asked.
He grinned. “We’re gonna play it that way, huh? You don’t tell me anything unless I already know about it.”
“I’m in the middle of this, Walt. My life, and the lives of others, have been threatened. I don’t want anything going out of here that might make it worse.”
“Stella, are you saying I’m a gossip?”
“Not exactly. I’m saying that I’m not sure who to trust. That means I’m not sure who you can trust either.”
He nodded. “All right. I have a good source who tells me that Barney crossed the wrong people. It has nothing to do with drugs. That’s only the cover-up. There are people who don’t want to see Barney’s son at the statehouse.”
Chapter 29
“Who are these people?” Stella asked him.
“I think it’s probably best if you and I don’t know exactly who they are.”
“Walt—”
“Here you are telling me you don’t know if you should say what you know about this whole mess. Why do you think I should say?”
“What is he talking about?” Eric perched on the edge of her desk.
“Eric wants to know what’s going on too.” Stella smiled at Walt. “Did I mention he can leave the cabin now?”
“No way!” Walt looked around the room as he always did, hoping he could see his old friend. “That’s amazing, and good news too, since Bob still wants to tear it down. This way Eric can live anywhere.”
“We may have good news on that front too.” Stella showed him Eric’s will. “The town can’t sell the property to Bob. It says the whole tract of land—with the cabin and the firehouse—has to remain Sweet Pepper’s property.”
Walt took a quick peek at the will. “That’s great too. I’m glad he can’t kick you out, buddy. I sure wish I could see you. From what I hear, you saved Stella from whatever those men had in mind for her. I guess that explains the whole magic of her moving those electric lines too. That video is beating the devil out of a lot of people right now.”
“Eric is happy about it too.”
“I didn’t say I was happy about it,” Eric argued.
“But you are,” she told him.
“If I have a choice when I die, I’d rather live at the police station.” Walt winked at Stella. “My old cabin can get pretty boring sometimes. How’d you figure out how to get Eric out of there?”
Stella explained about Eric’s badge. “I guess that was why he couldn’t go to the firehouse after they’d moved his body. He could only go to the firehouse because the badge was there. When they gave me the badge, it meant he could go anywhere the badge goes.”
Walt frowned and shook his head. “That’s good news for sure.” He looked at Stella. “I think you should keep your fingers out of this pie the powers that be are making of Barney’s family. I wouldn’t want to see them get cut off. I don’t know if Eric can handle this situation. Don’t press your luck.”
“Just tell me one thing—is it someone local behind this?”
“Nah. It goes further up. Nobody around here would do this kind of thing to old Barney.”
“Is that all you can give me?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Stella toyed with the idea of letting Walt take a look at the detonator Gail had given her. If he was right, knowing about it could be a bad thing for him. Or he’d tell the wrong person and that would be it.
“He’s bluffing,” Eric said. “I’ve played poker with him too much not to know. He doesn’t have anything else. He wants to know what you’ve got.”
“I have to get back to work. Thanks for stopping by, Walt.”
He put on his old hunting hat and glanced around again. “Good talking with you, buddy. See you later, Stella. Watch yourself. Don’t take any chances.”
When he was gone Stella started again on her report for last night’s incident.
“I think you should give someone else this detonator,” Eric told her. “Walt could be right about you staying out of it.”
“I’m going to give it to Chief Rogers later. As soon as I finish this report we’re going to my grandfather’s house to tell him about your will. I’d like to get that obstacle out of the way.”
Eric agreed. “Would you mind if I stay in the car? I don’t want to go in there. I managed to avoid it while I was alive. I’d like to continue that tradition.”
She shrugged. “That’s fine with me.”
When Stella called Ben, he told her he was at town hall.
“You should be here too,” he said. “Steven and I are meeting with Hugh Morton, Bob Floyd, and Mayor Wando. Steven thinks he has something that will make a difference about that old cabin.”
Stella agreed that she should be there, even though technically she wasn’t really part of the debate. She wanted Eric to be present too and told her grandfather she wouldn’t miss it.
“Do you think your grandfather’s lawyer found the same clause?” Eric asked as they went out to the Cherokee.
“I hope so. That would make it easier.”
Stella drove quickly through light traffic into Sweet Pepper. She had to park a block away from town hall but walked quickly back to the old building.
“They’re in the big conference room,” Sandy Selvy told her without raising her head. “Go on in.”
As soon as Stella walked into the room, Bob raised an objection, holding his broken arm in the air. “This is town business. There’s no way Chief Griffin figures into this.”
“Since the chief is living in the cabin a
nd runs the fire brigade I believe her presence should be allowed.” Steven Morrow, her grandfather’s attorney, was very smooth and professional.
Hugh Morton, the town’s attorney, whispered something to Bob that made him sit down. “We don’t have a problem with Chief Griffin being present,” Mr. Morton said.
“That’s good.” Eric stood behind Bob’s chair. “I could probably pick him up and throw him out the window.”
“It wouldn’t help,” Stella muttered. She hoped Eric wouldn’t do anything that would validate Bob’s claims. She even felt sorry for the man as he still bore the bruises and cuts from being beaten.
“Chief Griffin?” Hugh Morton asked. “Do you have something to say?”
“Not right now.”
Steven Morrow began the presentation. Stella didn’t see a copy of Eric’s will on the table. She had to assume the attorney had gone in another direction.
“We believe the town agreed to allow Chief Griffin to maintain a residence in the cabin on Firehouse Road—as they agreed to allow the fire brigade to work out of the firehouse on the same piece of property.”
Mayor Wando cleared his throat. “That is accurate. But we never stipulated how long Chief Griffin would be allowed to live there.”
“That land has been up for sale for the last twenty years. Now that I want to buy it, it suddenly has to remain Chief Griffin’s home,” Bob argued. “She doesn’t pay rent. There are other properties where she could live close to the firehouse. I already have a loan for the property. I think I should be able to do what we’ve wanted to do forever—get rid of that haunted cabin.”
Hugh Morton took a sip of water and leafed through his papers.
Steven Morrow continued. “Because Chief Griffin was not informed that the cabin and land were for sale we maintain she must be given time to find another suitable location to live.”
