Playing With Fire

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Playing With Fire Page 5

by J. J. Cook


  “Gerald Hatley and his wife live here,” Allen replied. “I know them from church. They’re probably down at the senior center. Want me to give them a call?”

  “Do that,” Stella agreed as she turned to John. “Anything from the power company?”

  He shook his head. “They said someone’s on the way. That’s it.”

  Stella used her cell phone to call Tagger at the firehouse. “Find me an electrician. We need someone to take care of these lines before one of us gets hurt.”

  “I know just the person, Chief. I’ll send him right out,” Tagger promised.

  “We found an old cat,” David Spratt reported over the radio. “I think Kimmie has a carrier for her. We should be right out with her.”

  “Good news,” Stella responded. “What about the fire?”

  “The kitchen looks bad,” David said.

  “Copy that,” Ricky said. “We’re inside. The only room that seems to be engaged is the kitchen. Get the hose in here. We’ve got the windows out.”

  “Copy that,” Petey added. “We’re coming your way.”

  Everything seemed to be fine—until Royce and JC made it up the hill with the hose. As they turned on the water, there was a momentary loss of control. Water sprayed across the transformer, sending deadly sparks toward them.

  Royce was yelling at Banyin for dropping her part of the hose. JC said to leave it alone and got his friend to focus on getting the hose into the kitchen window to put out the flame.

  Stella watched as Banyin deserted her post, running back down the hill in tears from Royce’s tirade. Petey picked up the hose that Banyin had dropped and called Kent in for support.

  Kimmie and David walked down the hill with both dogs following. David was carrying a blue carrier with the cat inside.

  “We think she’s okay, Chief.” Kimmie smiled at the gray cat. “She wasn’t even near the fire and there wasn’t much smoke yet. Should we have her checked out by a vet?”

  “Wait until the owners get here,” Stella said. “Leave her here with me. The two of you go back up and see if anyone needs you.”

  “The fire is out,” Petey said over the radio. “Ricky is checking for hot spots but I think we got here in time and this was it.”

  The transformer was still sparking along with the downed wires. Smoke was coming from that direction and Stella pointed her firefighters that way. “Don’t get too close. It looks like the pole could be on fire.”

  Elvis Vaughn chugged up in his old pickup that proclaimed him as an electrician but also added varmint removal as his secondary occupation.

  “Chief Griffin.” He always reminded Stella of the grizzled old prospectors who were killed for their claims in Western movies. “Looks like you got a problem out here.”

  “Can you help?” She cut to the chase. “I can’t get the power company out here to do their job. We need the power cut to the pole and to the house.”

  He pushed his worn Sweet Pepper Festival ball cap back on his head. “Let me get my tools.”

  It only took Elvis a few minutes and the sparks were gone. Petey made sure the pole wasn’t on fire, easier now since she didn’t have to worry about being electrocuted.

  The Hatleys came home, scared and devastated by the mess they found. Betsy Hatley started crying when she saw that her cat, Miss Tibbit, had been saved. Gerald Hatley shook hands with everyone there, thanking them for their help.

  “You’ll need someplace to stay,” Stella told them. “At least until you can get things cleaned up. Do you have someone who can help you out?”

  Betsy wiped her eyes as she hugged the cat carrier to her chest. “Our daughter lives a few miles away. We’ll stay with her. Thank you for asking, Chief Griffin. And bless you for saving our house.”

  “It’s our job, ma’am.” Stella always said the same thing, as though it was nothing that they risked their lives to be there. Still the Hatleys’ words warmed her heart and told her she was in the right line of work.

  “Let’s get it cleaned up,” Petey told her team. “We need that hose back down here on the truck.”

  “What happened to Banyin today?” Stella asked. “I can’t believe she dropped the hose and ran. Do you think she got scared?”

  Petey shrugged. “I don’t know what’s going on with her. The last two times we’ve gone out, she got all emotional. Not as bad as this. Do you want me to talk to her?”

  “No, I will. Let’s leave it for now and head back to the firehouse. Thanks, Petey.”

  Ricky came down the hill carrying a pike pole. “Nothing much to that. Just a kitchen. It was hardly worth coming out for.”

  Stella was glad the Hatleys were talking to John, too far away from where she was standing to hear his smart remark.

  “Don’t make me institute sensitivity training,” she threatened. “It’s a lot more than a kitchen for the victims.”

  “Sorry.” He glanced toward the old couple. “I only meant—never mind.”

  “I’ve already forgotten it. Don’t let me hear it again.” Stella went to thank Elvis for his help.

  He handed her a bill for turning off the power. “Glad to be of assistance, Chief. Any more trouble with snakes in the wiring up there at your cabin?”

  Stella put the invoice in her pocket. Elvis had checked for problems with the wiring after Eric first started playing with the lights and TV when she’d arrived in Sweet Pepper. “No. Everything’s been fine.”

  She’d thought at first, once she’d believed that the cabin was haunted, that Eric was trying to scare her away. Now she knew he’d wanted attention, someone to talk to.

  They both watched as the truck from the power company finally made it to the scene—after it was all over.

  Elvis laughed. “I guess old Eric likes having you there. Don’t know what he’ll do when you’re gone. How long are you staying, Chief?”

  “I don’t really know yet. I’m sure there will be an announcement of some kind.” She didn’t want to make it public knowledge yet that she’d made her decision.

  “I heard Bob Floyd the other day at the café telling Hugh Morton that the town is planning to burn the old cabin where you’re staying, as soon as you’re gone. They never had any luck renting it, you know. They couldn’t sell it. Most people feel uncomfortable with a ghost around.”

  Bob Floyd was a member of the town council. Hugh Morton was the town attorney. It was probably a good bet that they knew what was going on.

  Stella’s heart fluttered a little to hear the news. She’d been wondering what would happen to Hero when she was gone and no one was at the cabin except Eric. What would happen to Eric if they burned the place down?

  She kept her voice cool as she replied, “Maybe you should add ghosts to your list of varmints that you take out of houses.”

  “No, ma’am. Bad business there. I heard tell of a woman over in Frog Pond who fancied herself a witch. She took on that ghost at the old opera house in town here. She claimed she was gonna be on TV. That ghost ran her off, wouldn’t leave her alone for a minute. They said she had to leave the state to get any peace. I’d rather tussle with bats, snakes, and rats than do anything like that.”

  She laughed at his tale—he always had one. But as soon as she’d said goodbye to him, she started worrying about what would happen if the town burned the cabin. They owned it. It was legal for them to do it.

  Would Eric have to wander around the mountain at that point? Would he disappear forever because the cabin he loved so much was gone?

  She wished the witch was still in Frog Pond. Maybe she’d have some answers for those questions. As far as she could tell, Eric didn’t know what to expect from situations like that either. Death, like life, needed to come with a handbook.

  Stella tried to comfort herself with a reminder that she didn’t believe in witches. She used to be able to do th
at with ghosts too. She hadn’t believed in ghosts either before she’d come to Sweet Pepper. Maybe there were witches in Frog Pond.

  One thing she knew without a doubt—she couldn’t spend the rest of her life protecting a man who was already dead.

  Petey called her attention to something else at that moment and Stella put the issue on the back burner.

  They talked about the problems with the hose when they got back to the firehouse.

  “We’re going to have to schedule some intense retraining on handling the hose over the next few days,” Stella told her volunteers. “That slip-up today could’ve caused an injury, more damage to the house, or even loss of life.”

  “That was Banyin’s fault for dropping the hose,” Royce said. “It takes us all to hold it in place.”

  “When your teammate lets you down,” Kent added, “there’s not much you can do.”

  “I thought we did a good job picking up the slack,” JC said.

  “Well, you were all wrong.” Petey stepped up front with Stella. It was her team that had fallen apart.

  “First off, Banyin was wrong not to alert everyone else when she was having a problem. That’s a lesson we should all learn. Then we need to be aware of that kind of situation. If she’d passed out or something, she could’ve dropped the hose and not had a chance to say anything. It could happen to any of us.”

  “I guess our job then would’ve been to step right over her to keep the water going into the house.” Royce slapped JC’s hand and they both laughed.

  Petey didn’t think it was funny. “We have a problem here, people. We need to shape up.”

  Royce, JC, and Kent started grumbling loudly.

  Stella thanked Petey for her help but her words seemed to be making it worse.

  “Let’s leave it that we need some work.” She didn’t need a full-scale rebellion from her volunteers. “On the other hand, our time leaving the firehouse was the best we’ve ever had. Good job, everyone.”

  She looked at their tired, sooty faces and decided this wasn’t the moment to tell them she was leaving Sweet Pepper. She felt like she owed them the first real notification. They’d become like a family to her. She’d relied on them to have her back in some bad situations during the last year. She didn’t want them to find out from the town grapevine about the news. They needed to hear it from her.

  But not now—later would be better—when she had more definite plans.

  “Okay. Get cleaned up. Practice tomorrow is still at ten a.m.,” she reminded them. “If you have a conflict, let me know before practice, not after. Thanks for all your hard work. If you hadn’t been there today, the Hatleys would have lost their home completely.”

  Her little band of firefighters seemed happier after that, even though they still had plenty of work to do cleaning all the equipment and getting everything ready for the next call. There was no time to waste looking for anything necessary when the alarm bell sounded. Chief Henry, back in Chicago, had drilled that into her from the beginning.

  Bert Wando had finally arrived for the call. He’d remained at the firehouse with Tagger until they got back. He was anxious to talk to Stella about being late again.

  He pushed his chin out and his brown eyes defiantly glared at her. He was young, tall, and strong. His brown hair was cut short to accommodate all the different sports helmets he wore during the school year. “Go ahead. Say it. I’m lazy and I need a twenty-four-hour alarm clock, is that it?”

  Stella sighed. What was wrong with everyone today? There were a lot of raw emotions playing a part in what had happened. She looked at Banyin, who was waiting and crying in her office. She was going to have to deal with Bert first.

  “No. You’re the most responsible kid I’ve ever known. What I meant was that you have school and sports and I know it’s hard for you to get to practice and calls on time.”

  “Oh.” That deflated his anger balloon a little.

  Stella wondered if his parents had been telling him he was lazy and irresponsible. If so, that might account for his flare-up. She’d never had children—although she hadn’t given up on the idea—but she knew raising kids was hard. She felt sure the Wandos did the best they could. She knew they were proud of Bert.

  “You have to understand that I need someone I can count on, or I have to find someone to take your place.” She smiled to soften her words. “I like you, Bert. This is a sacrifice that not everyone is prepared to make. Notice how there aren’t hundreds of volunteers? Everyone else on the team has lives and problems too. You can either work around them, or not.”

  He scuffed the toe of his expensive new tennis shoes on the blacktop, his hands in his pockets. “It may not always show, Chief, but I love this job. And my father will flip if I give it up. He expects me to volunteer at something. He says it’s important to my character development. This is what I want to do.”

  “Bert—”

  “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. If it does, I’ll leave. You won’t have to ask me.” He smiled charmingly with all the charisma he would have someday as a man. “One more chance? What do you say?”

  “One more,” she agreed. “Practice is tomorrow at ten. Don’t miss it.”

  “I won’t.” He enthusiastically hugged her. “Thanks, Chief.”

  Stella had agreed to one more chance for Bert, but she was fairly sure nothing would change for him. She didn’t see how he could do it all, even without volunteering. What was the mayor thinking?

  “Hey! Dad told me that it was conclusive that it was the old chief’s bones we found here after the fire,” Bert said. “That was strange, huh?”

  “Finding anyone’s bones in a wall is strange.”

  “Well, he said they’re digging up the coffin from the cemetery this afternoon. I guess they want to find out who’s buried in there now.”

  That was fast. Walt was right about some people being able to get fast results. “Did he say when?”

  Bert glanced at his cell phone. “Right about now, I guess. Why?”

  Chapter 6

  Stella didn’t want to leave Banyin hanging, but she wanted to be there for the exhumation. She believed there were answers in that coffin.

  She weighed her options. If she didn’t leave right away, she’d miss it.

  She’d have to talk to Banyin later.

  “I’m sorry,” she told the other woman. “I have to get over to the cemetery. The county is pulling out Chief Gamlyn’s coffin. This could be the break I’ve been looking for in the investigation into his death.”

  “Sure, Chief.” Banyin wiped her eyes and sniffled a little but wasn’t actively crying. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Are you working at the library this afternoon?”

  “Yes. I’ll be there until five-thirty.”

  “I’ll catch up with you there.”

  Stella put Ricky and Petey in charge of getting everything cleaned up at the firehouse and then hopped on her Harley and headed toward the cemetery.

  The Sweet Pepper Heavenly Peace Cemetery was located on the other side of town, going out the main road. It was on a tall hill, with only a few trees growing there. The grass was green and abundant. There was a small chapel at the top of the hill. The graves, some from the early 1700s, spread down to the road.

  It was easy to see where they were working. The coroner’s van and a few cars from the Sweet Pepper Police Department were there along with several vehicles from the Fulton Mortuary, the local funeral home.

  Stella drove her Harley up the steep gravel road until she reached the area where everyone was standing around. She parked the bike and went to join them.

  The wind fiercely whipped around on the side of the hill, sharp and cold from the mountaintops. The constant force of it had caused the trees to grow stilted and slight, always bent to the north.

  “Chief Rogers.” She
addressed the older man in the Sweet Pepper Police uniform.

  She knew he’d be unhappy to see her there. He’d probably kept her out of the loop, despite her involvement in the case. Don Rogers had made no secret of his feelings toward her. She was a woman, and she wasn’t from Sweet Pepper. Those were enough strikes against her for him.

  “Ms. Griffin.”

  He’d never called Stella “chief” as many others did. She was sure it was his way of showing disrespect.

  He looked to be in his mid-fifties, with his unbowed military bearing and his graying blond crew cut. “What brings you out? Is something on fire?”

  Stella held her tongue. It was too easy to get into a name-calling match with him. “I heard you were exhuming Chief Gamlyn’s remains.”

  “Not me.” His pale blue eyes looked her over insolently from head to toe. “Is that making you nervous? Worried about your future?”

  She laughed. “We all die, Chief. I don’t worry about it. But when a firefighter dies in questionable circumstances, it’s up to the rest of us to set it right.”

  If he was trying to make her uncomfortable, he’d have to try harder. She’d been the first woman recruit at her fire station back home. The pranks and taunts she’d received the first few months had been enough to hold her rock-steady when she was around men like Rogers.

  “You didn’t even know Chief Gamlyn.” He said it like an accusation.

  “You’re right.” At least not while he was alive. “But I’m still involved.”

  The usually jolly coroner ended the conversation as he reached them. “Hello, Chief Griffin. What brings you out today? Too many chiefs here, not enough work being done, huh?”

  He laughed at his joke. When neither of the chiefs laughed back, he cleared his throat and tried again.

  “There’s not really anything either of you can do out here,” he said. I appreciate you both stopping by, though.”

  “Just want to make sure things are done right, Judd.” Chief Rogers’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And I can’t imagine anyone digging up a body in my town and me not being there. No offense.”

 

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