by J. J. Cook
Judd Streeter didn’t seem to take offense at much of anything. He was a round, gray-haired man who seemed more likely to play Santa in a department store than to examine dead bodies. Yet he’d been the county coroner for more than four decades. “And what about you, Chief Griffin?”
“I’m here because Chief Gamlyn was a firefighter and we take care of our own.” She couldn’t stop herself from darting an angry glance at Rogers. “What can you tell me about the bones found in the firehouse?”
“I can tell you it was an unusual place to find bones, don’t you think?” Still not even a hint of a smile from the two chiefs.
He sobered and read from his clipboard. “I have established that the bones in the firehouse belonged to Chief Eric Gamlyn. He was shot in the head with a thirty-eight revolver at close range. I’m guessing it was around the same time as the silo fire, but we won’t know for sure until we get those results back from the state. That could be another forty years.”
“If you know that was Gamlyn, why are we out here? What are we trying to prove?” Rogers sounded a little irritated that the coroner had made him look bad in front of Stella who’d been asking for this moment since last year.
“I did the autopsy on the chief forty years ago when I was still wet behind the ears,” Judd said. “Everyone thought the remains in the silo belonged to Eric. I guess I did too. I was wrong. I need to know who’s buried in Chief Gamlyn’s grave.”
“It should’ve been done last year when we found Chief Gamlyn’s bones,” Stella said. “I’m glad you took the initiative.”
“Let’s get on with it.” Chief Rogers stared down the hill where the team was using a backhoe to open the grave and retrieve the coffin.
“Excuse me.” Judd was noticeably uncomfortable with the two, strong-willed people glaring at each other like they might get violent. “I think they need me down there.”
After the coroner had walked down the hill, his short legs unsteady on the incline, Chief Rogers looked at Stella. “I guess you’re feeling pretty confident now.”
She watched the work being done on Eric’s grave. Sometimes he seemed so alive to her that it was hard to imagine he was dead. Seeing his bones in the firehouse wall had made it painfully real. Coming out here to his grave was another strong reminder.
“I don’t feel any way about it at all. I only want to know what happened. Why are you so defensive about it? You weren’t police chief back then. Were you involved in Chief Gamlyn’s death?”
Chief Rogers drew a quick breath as though she’d slapped him. “Your friend, Walt Fenway, was chief. I was an officer. This makes us all look bad. If you were a man, I’d knock you on your backside for asking me that question.”
She smiled at his arrogance. “Chief Gamlyn’s burial was a mistake. Sometimes we see what we expect to see. His murder is different. I want to know who killed him and put him in the firehouse wall.”
“Is that what’s been holding you here? When are you going back to Chicago anyway? You’ve kind of overstayed your welcome, wouldn’t you say?”
“I wouldn’t say anything of the kind. The mayor asked me to stay on permanently a few days ago. I think some people are happy to have me here.”
“Mayor Wando doesn’t count as a real person, Ms. Griffin. I think if you talked to real people in Sweet Pepper, you’d find they want one of their own to run the fire brigade.”
Stella turned back to stare at him again. She didn’t care what his problem was with her. “Was there any real investigation done into Chief Gamlyn’s death?”
“Honey, for being the fire chief, you sure don’t know much about the nature of fire. Chief Gamlyn ran into the silo that night to help one of his men get out of that inferno. He was overcome by smoke and burned to death. There’s not much investigating to be done in that scenario. How much do you think was left of him?”
“So, no?”
“You got it. But don’t take my word for it. Talk to Walt. We all knew what we saw back then. There was no reason to think it was anything else. If there was an investigation, I’ll be glad to have someone look up those files for you. Maybe Captain Trump. Oh! Maybe not. I hear that plane has left the runway.”
After amusing himself at her expense, Rogers ambled down the hillside to get a better view of the coffin being brought out of the rocky ground. At the mention of Walt’s name, Stella wondered where he was. He’d said he was going to be there.
She sat down on one of the benches near the chapel and watched as the dirty coffin was hoisted to the back of a truck. She knew the coroner wouldn’t open it there. He’d take it back to the lab to examine what he found inside.
Maybe Chief Rogers and Judd were right—she didn’t need to be out there. It seemed like she should be. It felt like something someone would do for a friend. If nothing else, the spirit of Eric Gamlyn that inhabited her cabin was her friend. They had a lot in common.
No firefighter wanted to die in a fire, definitely not without questions being asked and answered. There was always something to learn that could save someone from the same fate in the future.
Stella got to her feet and climbed on her Harley, solemnly following the old truck bearing Eric’s coffin down the hillside. She’d seen the coffin raised and taken away. She’d done her duty, as much as it saddened her to do so. There were other pressing issues that needed to be taken care of.
She decided she was better off doing those things.
She got to the Sweet Pepper library just before closing. Banyin was putting away some books that had been left out on shelves and tables.
Stella waited until she’d finished. The quiet of the small library was good for her troubled thoughts. She didn’t know if she’d ever have answers to all the questions flitting around in her brain regarding Eric’s death, especially since the rest of the world seemed to be tugging her away.
She meant to keep searching though, until the minute she got back on her Harley and headed for home.
Banyin came and sat at the table with her. They were alone. She smiled and played with the fringe on her pretty orange sweater.
“What’s up?” Stella asked. “You’re one of my best people. What happened today?”
“I don’t know. I’m going through some issues right now, Chief. I don’t want to give up the fire brigade, but I may have to.”
“Why? Are you starting to get scared when we go out on a call?”
“I wish it were that easy.” She rubbed her hand on her rounded belly.
Stella felt like an idiot. First the weight gain and then the emotional roller coaster. “When are you due?”
“Not until February.” Banyin sighed. “I wanted to keep working and practicing. It’s much harder now.”
“Maybe that’s because you’re going to have a baby.” Stella smiled at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it before. You should’ve said something.”
“I didn’t want you to kick me out.”
“I’m not going to kick you out. You’re going to take a leave of absence until after the baby is born. You can’t keep going this way. How does Jake feel about it?”
“He didn’t want me to join up in the first place.” She confided her husband’s uncertainties about his wife being a firefighter. “But I love it, Chief. I like getting my hands dirty and really doing something for the community.”
Stella wasn’t sure what to do in this case. She’d never dealt with this situation back home—this would’ve been Chief Henry’s domain. Maybe Banyin could stay on. She’d have to ask someone who had experience with this.
“Let’s keep you away from the hoses and the heavy lifting for now,” Stella compromised. “We’ll decide what else we need to do. Congratulations! I know you and Jake have been trying to get pregnant for a long time.”
Banyin hugged her, a little self-consciously, in her strong arms. “Thanks, Chief. I could talk to
my doctor about it, if that would help.”
“That would probably be a good idea.” Why hadn’t she thought of it? Maybe because she had no experience with the subject and had other things on her mind? “Let me know what she says and we’ll work something out.”
“That would probably shut Jake up about it too,” Banyin said thoughtfully. “It seems like such a long time until February. If I totally stop now, I won’t even remember how to hold a hose.”
“Believe me, you won’t forget.” Stella got to her feet. “There will always be room for you.”
“I hate to bring this up, but you can’t know that. You’re leaving, Chief. I wish you weren’t, but we all know you don’t plan to stay. The next chief might not feel like you do about it.”
“You already know the next chiefs—Ricky Junior and Petey. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
Banyin played with an old hardback copy of Gone with the Wind that had been left on the table. “Some people think they won’t be co-chiefs after you’re gone. I’ve heard people say John Trump will take over the fire brigade.”
Stella had heard that rumor before. She didn’t agree with it, but there might be something to it. She couldn’t discount it. “Even so, John would understand too. You don’t have to worry about it. Volunteer fire departments are always short-staffed. It’s hard to get good people to risk their lives for no money.”
She wanted to ask Banyin who’d said that about John. He’d actually been her first pick to replace her because he had emergency experience and the maturity to carry off being chief.
Petey and Ricky were lacking in that sometimes. Stella believed her co-chiefs would gain that maturity as they went along. The two of them would bolster each other too.
Stella also knew that John loved his job with the police department and planned to be chief there someday when Rogers retired. That’s why she hadn’t tapped him for the position.
She didn’t want it to get around town that she’d asked Banyin about it. Sometimes the walls seemed to have ears in Sweet Pepper, and news traveled faster than the Internet could deliver it.
“Whatever happens.” Stella tried to regroup on her original thought. “You’re a good firefighter, Banyin. You’ll be fine. See your doctor. Let me know what she says. If nothing else, we’ll put you on light duty. That way you’ll still feel like part of the group.”
“I will. Bless you, Chief.”
Stella left Banyin putting books away and straightening up the library. She got on her bike and headed out to Scooter’s Barbecue. The place was a little outside of town, on the main road from Sevierville and Pigeon Forge to Sweet Pepper, so it got plenty of traffic.
Sweet Pepper was famous for having the hottest, sweetest peppers in the world and the yearly pepper festival. Thousands of people visited for tours of the factory and other events. Tourists had begun coming in to ride the gentle whitewater on the Little Pigeon River too. Their kayaks and inner tubes had filled the roads over the summer.
Scooter’s had once been a drive-in and it still retained the look, but without car delivery. It was popular with young and old from town. There were always plenty of people who waved to Stella when she went there to eat.
In this case, Zane was there with a few of his buddies from the forest service. They were sitting at a table with Allen, Kent, and Tagger from the fire brigade.
Stella smiled when she saw that Petey was their waitress.
Mayor Wando and his wife, Jill, were there sharing a table with Sandy Selvy, the town clerk, and Councilman Bob Floyd.
His parents’ presence explained why Bert wasn’t there. He and his father were obviously having difficulties right now. No doubt the younger Wando wouldn’t want to be there with his parents looking over his shoulder.
“Chief Griffin!” Mayor Wando called her name loudly and waved at the same time.
Stella felt compelled to acknowledge him. She paid her respects to everyone at the table.
“We were just talking about you, Chief Griffin!” Bob Floyd’s voice rang out through the diner.
He was a short, ambitious person who usually irritated Stella since he always seemed to be working some angle to benefit himself.
“I hope it was something good.” She went along with the conversation.
“We were discussing what a good job you’ve done here.” Jill Wando patted her perfect blond hair. “Take that fire you all put out today at the Hatleys. Why, they wouldn’t have had two pennies to rub together if it wasn’t for you, Chief Griffin.”
“Not me, Mrs. Wando. The whole fire brigade. And thanks for the compliment.”
“See, that’s the thing.” Mayor Wando collected himself and cleared his throat. “We want you to stay in Sweet Pepper, Stella. You’ve pulled all of this together for us, and frankly, there are many of us who worry that it will fall apart if you leave.”
“If salary is the issue,” Jill whispered, “we can find some extra money in the budget to give you a nice raise.” She nudged her husband. “Can’t we, Erskine?”
He jumped. “Of course we can. Of course we can.”
“And if that old cabin isn’t to your liking,” Bob Floyd said, “we can find you something better right here in town.”
Stella was actually friends with Sandy Selvy. She’d known Stella’s mother when she lived here as a child. The town clerk had a sassy mouth and an irreverent way of looking at things that always made her laugh.
“I’m sure Stella enjoys being up at the cabin with the handsome ghost of Eric Gamlyn. How can town compete with that?” Sandy winked at Stella, patting her beehive hairdo.
Stella had told Sandy about Eric—about some of the things he’d done. “I like being at the cabin. Not so much because of the ghost. It’s more because it’s close to the firehouse. Eric had the right idea about building the two together.”
Bob shook his head. “That cabin needs to come down. It’s an eyesore and an embarrassment to the town. The sooner we get you out of there and let your fire brigade do a controlled burn up there, the better.”
Chapter 7
So that’s who wants to burn Eric’s cabin down.
Stella wondered what Bob Floyd would gain by that move. In her limited experience with the councilman, he never did anything unless there was something in it for him.
“I think that would be a mistake,” Stella said. “Whether it’s me, or someone else who is the long-term fire chief, the firehouse is easy to reach from there. Trying to get out there from town can take a lot longer, especially during heavy tourist traffic. The chief needs to be close.”
Mayor Wando nodded.
Councilman Floyd frowned. “We’d like you to stay, Chief, don’t get me wrong. But from what I’ve heard, you have no intention of being that long-term chief you’re describing. John Trump, who would be our second choice to lead the fire brigade, has his own place already about a mile and a half from the firehouse. I don’t see him giving up a place that has been in his family for several generations to spend time with the ghost of a man who was annoying and egotistical when he was alive.”
And that’s where that rumor was coming from. Stella smiled at the councilman. “I’m sure you’re right. Excuse me. I’m late for dinner with my friends.”
They all smiled and wished her well. She could feel their eyes on her as she walked across the crowded restaurant to sit with Zane and her friends.
“You know, Erskine.” Bob didn’t try to keep his voice down. “I think it’s just as well she’s leaving. No wonder she likes it up there at the cabin. She and Eric are two peas from the same pod.”
Jill and Sandy disagreed with his statement. Mayor Wando tried to stay neutral in the debate.
Stella studied Bob Floyd after she’d ordered her dinner. Everyone else was talking about the kitchen fire today and Zane was telling them about the camper they’d finally found who’
d made a campfire in the woods despite all the hazard signs posted.
She kept thinking about what Bob would stand to gain by getting rid of Eric’s cabin. Both the firehouse and the cabin, along with the land they were on, had been left to the town when Eric died. No one had been able to live there so the town had maintained the cabin with nothing coming back to its coffers. Maybe that was it.
She’d known from the start that was why the town council had let her live there, rent free, while she was acting fire chief. No one else wanted to live there after Eric had scared so many people away.
She knew Bob would have to convince the mayor and the majority of the council to see things his way. It made sense to try to sell the place. Burning it down seemed a waste.
Stella finally forced herself to let it go. After all, it wasn’t her fight. She had to stop trying to protect Eric’s ghost from the rest of the world. She wouldn’t be here much longer. It was the town’s problem.
And Eric’s.
She joined the conversation, telling stories about her experiences as a firefighter in the big city. It was as hard for her companions to imagine that life as it would have been for her to imagine life in Sweet Pepper before she came here.
The group went on to Beau’s Bar and Grill a few miles away after dinner. Petey’s shift was over at Scooter’s and she went along with them. There was a live band there and Stella danced with Zane a few times while everyone clapped and generally acted crazy.
It was one of the rare times Stella had allowed herself the companionship of the fire brigade. At first she’d tried to keep herself separate from the group. She’d told herself it was because she had to be their boss and make life-and-death decisions for them.
It was Eric who’d pointed out the stupidity of that belief. He’d hung out all the time with the men he’d worked with (no women firefighters at that time). He’d convinced her that she needed more than her laptop and his ghostly company.
He’d been right. It was good to unwind with the people she counted on—new friends—even if she had to leave them behind when the time came.
