Blaze (A Stone Mountain Mystery Book 2)

by Kristina Stanley

  She found Cindy alone in the waiting room, gulping silent sobs, her front desk uniform wrinkled from where she’d been working the material with her fists.

  The waiting area contained an L-shaped row of plastic chairs. Out-of-date magazines littered a small table in the corner. The windows faced the parking lot, and dismal grey wall paint matched the sky. None of this meant anything to Kalin and Cindy.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kalin said.

  Cindy stared at her with desperate eyes. “I can’t believe it’s true.”

  “I know.” Kalin knew what Cindy meant. The disassociation with reality. The bluntness of an accident that caused a death. The piercing nothingness that filled her insides.

  Cindy gripped Kalin’s upper arms. “How could you possibly know?”

  “I’ve been through it. My late husband, Jack, died in an accident.”

  “You were married?”

  “I was. Jack was hit by a car.” Kalin and Cindy sat and held hands. “I wish I knew how to help you.”

  “I haven’t seen him yet. Will you come with me?”

  “Of course,” Kalin said but wished she’d said no. How could she refuse? She’d had to see Jack alone. If someone had been there, she would’ve wanted company too. There was nothing she could say to Cindy right now that would make this easier. She’d hated every platitude her friends had spoken. They’d all meant well, but not one of them had understood the depth of her pain. The stunning sharpness or the debilitating lack of breath that came with the loss. Just getting out of bed had been a challenge.

  She knew what Cindy was about to go through, and this moment wasn’t the worst. How could she tell Cindy she had to go through hell before she would come out the other side and survive?

  “I talked to him this morning. I can’t remember if I told him I loved him.”

  “He knows.”

  “I was distracted. Some guest was complaining about a dripping tap. I cut our conversation short.”

  Kalin gripped Cindy’s hand. “Seriously. He knows you love him.”

  Cindy rested her head on Kalin’s shoulder. “This can’t be true.”

  Kalin searched through the doorway of the sterile waiting room. “Where’s Ben?”

  “He went to get me some water.” Cindy stood and rested her forehead against the window. “What am I going to do?”

  “Has anyone called Jason’s parents?”

  Cindy tapped her forehead on the windowpane. “No. I have to, but how can I tell them this?”

  “Why don’t you let me call, and you can talk with them after I’ve told them?”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course. Maybe you should stay with your parents for a while. This is not a good time for you to be alone.”

  “They’re on vacation. I need to call them too. They don’t know either.”

  “Could you stay with Jason’s parents?”

  “I think so, at least until my mom and dad get here.”

  Ben arrived and handed Cindy a bottle of water and a couple of ibuprofen tablets. He hadn’t changed out of his firefighter’s turnout gear, and the material still smelled of smoke from the forest fire.

  Constable Miller arrived with him, wearing his RCMP uniform, meaning he was on duty.

  Miller expressed his sympathies. “I spoke with Jason’s parents. They’re on their way.”

  Kalin was embarrassed by how relieved she was not to have to make that call. She felt guilty about the happiness of having Ben walk into the room. Talk about self-centered.

  “Thank you,” Cindy said.

  Tessa Weber burst into the waiting area. She wore her Wild Game Deli uniform, including the hair net. She ran straight to Cindy and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh my God. Are you okay?”

  Cindy buried her face in Tessa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Did the fire cause this?” Tessa asked.

  “No. He was working on a construction site,” Cindy said.

  “But not one damaged by the fire?”

  “No.”

  “How come you’re here?” Tessa asked Miller. “Wasn’t it an accident?”

  “I heard the call come in. I’m just here to check on Cindy,” Miller said. The RCMP officers were well acquainted with the firefighters and were often at a scene together.

  Kalin intertwined her fingers with Ben’s and felt his calluses against her skin. She needed to touch him.

  Cindy pushed Tessa away from her and spoke to Miller. “I think Pete Chambers might have caused this.”

  Kalin hadn’t heard anything negative about Pete before, so where was Cindy coming from? Maybe she was distraught and lashing out, wanting to put blame somewhere.

  “Can you tell me why you think that?” Miller asked.

  “Jason said Pete’s been cutting corners. That he’s having money troubles. Jason complained a couple of times about doing something dangerous.”

  “Like?”

  “They built a trench to reset the foundation for that cabin, and Pete’s supervisor wouldn’t let them reinforce the sides. He said it was a waste of time for such a small job.”

  Pete entered and the conversation stopped. The only sound came from the wheels of a passing gurney.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Kalin squeezed Ben’s hand. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  After a moment, Kalin thought Ben wasn’t going to speak. He hadn’t said a word during the drive from the hospital to their home. He’d said nothing while they walked with Chica along Black Bear Drive checking for fire damage close to their place. The road between the golf course and the chalets had acted as a fire barrier. The trees along the fairways were burned and the shrubs were gone, but the subdivision remained standing. The forest behind their house, untouched. At least the fire hadn’t destroyed their rental suite, and they still had a home.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk,” Kalin said. “But I’m here if you need me.” As they walked, Kalin thought about Cindy. She’d taken Cindy’s hand and offered to go with her to see Jason. Again, the guilt of feeling relieved she didn’t have to go with Cindy surfaced. Cindy had preferred Tessa, so Kalin hadn’t pushed the issue.

  Ben finally spoke. “I’ve never seen anything that awful. He was dead when I got there, and I didn’t know it was Jason. Not until I saw his face.”

  Kalin wrapped her arms around Ben. At the unexpected stop, Chica jerked her sideways.

  Ben held Kalin so tight, she had trouble taking a breath.

  “Do you really want to hear about this?”

  She didn’t, but thought it would be better for Ben if he talked. “I do.”

  “I couldn’t do anything for him. It was too late.”

  “What was happening when you got there?”

  Ben loosened his arms, but Kalin didn’t let go. He let her hug him a moment longer, then eased her away. By the quickness with which he turned and walked, she knew he needed to move.

  “Pete’s crew was trying to lift the cabin off Jason. One of them had tears on his cheeks. They yelled at each other. They were panicking.”

  “Did they think Jason was still alive?”

  “I know you’re trying to help, but could you stop interrogating me?”

  Kalin rubbed his shoulder, and he shifted away. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. I shouldn’t have snapped. After the paramedics arrived, I left and found Cindy before she heard from anyone else.”

  “I’m sure that meant a lot. When she has time to think about it, she’ll understand what you did for her.”

  “I left out the details. Miller can tell her if he wants.”

  “I know you haven’t been sleeping well since the fire. This might make things worse for you. Do you think, maybe, you should talk to someone?”

  Ben stopped walking and faced her. “I have you. I don’t need anyone else.”

  “Seeing a friend die in a horrible way is not something I know how to help you with. You won’t even
talk to me about the fire and why you’re not sleeping.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. I can tell you’re struggling with something, and if you won’t talk to me, there are professionals who can help.”

  “You think I need a shrink?”

  “I don’t mean it in a negative way. Sometimes talking to a stranger about stuff helps.”

  “Did you talk to anyone after Jack died?”

  Kalin lowered her head. “My mom’s a psychologist.”

  “Don’t avoid the question. You didn’t talk to her. I know that. So why should I see someone?”

  “I don’t know. I only want you to be happy.”

  “Being with you is all I need.”

  “Are you sure? If it gets worse, we need to deal with it.”

  “It won’t get worse.”

  “You don’t have to pretend to be tough. Jason was your friend. He saved your life—”

  “You know about that?”

  Kalin nodded. The expression on his face was one of anger.

  “Who told you?”

  “It’s not about who told me. Your friends want to help you.” Kalin tried to keep her voice level. She should be helping him, but he made it difficult.

  “You mean they think something’s wrong with me and talked to you.”

  “This isn’t coming out right. No one thinks anything is wrong with you. You’ve been moody lately. That’s all.”

  “I can’t believe the guys have been talking behind my back.”

  Kalin didn’t want Ben embarrassed in front of the other firefighters, and she didn’t want him angry with them. “I bumped into Cindy in the toy store the other day. She mentioned it, but she won’t tell anyone.”

  Ben stiffened. “So Jason told her, and she told you.”

  “Yes.” She hated the lie by omission, but knowing others were talking about him would hurt him.

  “How come you didn’t ask me about it? Why would you talk about me when I’m not there?”

  “I thought you’d tell me when you were ready.” Kalin reached for his hand, but he snapped his away.

  “I’m fine. I don’t need you mothering me. Miller’s going to investigate the cabin collapsing and the arson. I’ll figure out the rest.”

  Ouch. The harshness was unusual for Ben. Fighting was not what they should be doing, so she changed the subject. “Has Miller said any more about the fire?”

  “Hard to believe someone tried to make it look like I’m an arsonist.”

  “What are you talking about?” The toe of Kalin’s sandal caught on a rock, and she stumbled.

  He grabbed her elbow before she fell. “Nothing.”

  Kalin waited. Even though Ben liked her hair loose, she wore it tucked up under a ball cap. Self consciously, she pulled her ponytail tighter through the strap.

  “Okay, fine. But don’t make this into a big deal. Miller said the gas cans at the site had my fingerprints on them.”

  “When did he tell you this?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s got nothing to do with us.”

  “How can you say that? The fire started on our property.”

  “I think the cans were stolen from the back of my truck. Someone used them to start the fire. Miller thinks it’s just coincidence. That whoever it was saw a way to put blame on someone other than themselves.”

  “We’ll find out who did it.”

  Ben frowned and shook his head several times. “No, we won’t. For once, can’t you let the cops do their job? Please.”

  “I’m the head of security. Reed is going to expect me to do something.” Her boss was tough on her, but fair she thought. Ben didn’t like the way Reed pushed her to get involved in what he considered police investigations. The previous winter, an Olympic-caliber skier had been murdered while race training at Stone Mountain. Kalin had found out who murdered him, but only after the murderer tried to kill her too.

  “I can’t take more stress. I need you here for me, not looking into crimes.”

  Kalin tightened her fingers around Ben’s. “I don’t want to fight. I’m sure it’ll work itself out. After walking Chica, let’s call the insurance company. I still don’t understand what the fire means for us, and I’m worried about Pete.”

  She turned toward their rental suite and tugged on Chica’s leash, forcing her to follow.

  “You mean about cutting corners?” Ben asked.

  “If it’s true, maybe we shouldn’t have him build our house.”

  “We have a contract with him.”

  “Let’s have a closer look at it. There could be a way out.”

  “You don’t want to build a house together?” Ben asked.

  Ben’s insecurity surprised Kalin. “Of course I do, but I don’t want a house built by cutting corners. Ask around at the fire hall. If Jason complained to Cindy, maybe there’re others who know something.”

  “I think the cops can do that.”

  “Aren’t you curious?”

  “I am, but it’s never just asking with you. Miller will find out if there was any negligence involved in Jason’s death. Pete’s company is going to be investigated, so we don’t need to do anything.”

  Chica tugged on her leash, trying to reach a squirrel that ran up a pine tree. “Not a chance,” Kalin snapped at Chica. She yanked her backward then felt bad about taking her anger out on the dog.

  Silence settled between them. They walked past Nora’s suite and Ben asked, “Do you know when Nora’s going to move back up the mountain?”

  Kalin let him switch subjects. Until Ethan was born, Nora lived in a ground floor suite similar to Kalin and Ben’s. “She hasn’t said. I think living with Donny and Amber makes life easier for her right now. I forgot to tell you some woman visited Nora in the hospital. Nora wouldn’t tell me who she was, but she looked a lot like Nora. Nora seemed angry she’d come to see her.”

  “Did you ask Nora who she was?”

  “Nope. Donny and Amber showed up, and I forgot.”

  “That’s not like you. I’d have thought you’d be right on top of that.”

  Kalin fought the urge to cry. She loved Ben. “You know what. That was mean. I know you’re hurting, but…Why don’t you go home and settle down? I’m going to finish walking Chica.”

  * * *

  Nora walked through the side gate to her backyard. Ethan settled onto her chest with his tiny hand fisted in the grip of sleep. She could have sworn she closed the gate when she left earlier. She’d gotten into the habit of using the back door of her house because she could pass through the laundry room and dump Ethan’s stuff on the dryer.

  With her flared jeans flapping against her calves, she followed the stone path around the corner to her backyard. The jeans were stretchy on top, but at least they were more stylish than her full-out maternity gear. Army-green and black splotches covered her tie-dye shirt. She was almost back to her pre-pregnancy look.

  She stumbled but didn’t fall when she spotted Janet Wood waiting for her.

  “What do you want?” Nora surrounded Ethan with both arms, placing one hand protectively on the back of his head. His wispy hair tickled her palm.

  Janet remained seated on the step in front of the atrium. “I just want to talk with you.”

  Nora’s pulse thumped in erratic bursts. “I told you last time, I want nothing to do with you.”

  “I know this is hard. There’s so much I need to tell you.”

  Nora didn’t think she could get in her car fast enough. Janet would catch her if she ran, but she’d be safer at the front of the house instead of behind, hidden by cedar hedges. She kept her eyes on Janet and carefully walked backward.

  Janet stood and followed her, but kept her distance.

  “Stay away from us.”

  “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

  “How do I know that?”

  Janet seemed to think about that for a moment. “I don’t know.”

 
Nora reached the driveway with Ethan still asleep. The summer afternoon was perfect. The chirping of crickets almost covered the rustling of leaves in the breeze. The turmoil inside her didn’t match the serenity of the street. Sunshine warmed her face, and she worried about whether she needed to put sunscreen on Ethan. She’d better check if he could wear sunscreen at his age. She might not know much about raising a child, but instinct told her to keep Janet away from him.

  She put ten feet between herself and Janet.

  “Please wait. Can you listen just for a minute?”

  Nora didn’t owe this woman anything. She took in Janet’s T-shirt worn shiny and her home-cut hair, and tried not to feel sorry for her. “So talk.”

  Janet licked a cold sore on her bottom lip. “Giving you up was…was almost unbearable.”

  Nora waited.

  “Lisa talked me into it, and she was right. She said I had to do what was best for you. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. We both knew I was going to prison for a long time. I’m not asking you to forgive me. I only want to explain.” When Nora didn’t respond, Janet pointed to the house. “Is this the house you grew up in?”

  “It is.” The house had belonged to Lisa. The yellow siding, the rose bushes planted on either side of the driveway and even the maple tree gave a hint of Lisa’s personality. Lisa had planted the maple the week she’d brought Nora home. They celebrated in the shade beneath the branches every year on the anniversary of Nora’s arrival, first with juice and later with champagne. She couldn’t have known their last celebration under the tree was their final one.

  “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I only know Lisa died. I don’t know what happened to her.”

  Nora didn’t know what to say.

  “Please. That’s not asking too much. Is it?”

  “It’s not. She died in an accident. The RCMP deemed her death a suicide, but I hope not.”

  Janet’s quick intake of breath told Nora she hadn’t known.

  “She was my best friend, so she adopted you.”

  “I know. Lisa was good to me. Which one of you came up with the idea I should be told you were dead?”