by J. J. Cook
Breakfast had begun to arrive when John Trump came in the café. He looked around until he spotted Stella.
He’d already heard that her family was in town, along with her ex-boyfriend from Chicago. He studied the lean, lanky man who sat beside her at the table, his thin face close to hers. Was that him?
“John.” Stella latched onto his presence, hoping he had something important to tell her. She didn’t care what it was. He was wearing his uniform and his grim face that usually meant he was unhappy about something.
Doug sized up the other police officer and got to his feet. He was taller than John. John was stockier, with broader shoulders. “I’m Officer Douglas Connelly from Chicago.”
“Nice to meet you.” John glanced at him and then turned to Stella. “I have some bad news.”
“Not too bad, I hope.” Stella felt guilty that she’d wished for it when he’d come to the table.
“Bad enough. Mace Chum is dead. The Highway Patrol found him off of the main road a few minutes ago. It looks like he lost control of his truck and camper. Chief Rogers wants the fire department on-site in case there’s a problem getting the truck out.”
“Oh no.” She got to her feet and the pager in her pocket went off. She hadn’t wanted that kind of distraction. “I spoke with him at the firehouse yesterday.”
“I’m off duty. I’ll suit up and help the fire brigade,” John said. “You might need an experienced climber.”
Chapter 9
“What’s going on?” Sean asked when he saw Stella’s shocked face. “Are you in trouble?”
“This is Captain John Trump, Dad. Sweet Pepper police. John, this is my dad, Sean Griffin, Chicago firefighter.”
The two men shook hands. Stella kept her voice down as she explained to her father what had happened.
“I’d like to come along,” Sean said. “Maybe I could lend a hand.”
“Me too,” Doug added. “I’m a trained police officer. I could be useful too.”
John shook Doug’s hand as he sized up the other man. If this was the boyfriend who broke Stella’s heart and sent her packing to Sweet Pepper, he was definitely not what John had been expecting.
“Sure,” he said finally. “You can both ride along with me. I saw Stella’s bike out front so I know how she’s getting to the firehouse.”
Barbara didn’t mind being left with Lucille to catch up on everything that had happened since she’d left Sweet Pepper. “Be careful, you guys. Mountains aren’t the same as high-rises.”
Stella was already at the firehouse when her father, John, and Doug arrived. Since Doug and her father were riding to the accident with the fire brigade, Stella had decided to drive the Cherokee to the scene. John would ride in the engine/ladder truck with Ricky Junior.
She didn’t want Doug riding with anyone else and talking about how much he wished they’d get back together, especially John. She wanted her father with them to ensure she didn’t get into any uncomfortable conversations with her ex.
“Wow!” Sean rubbed his hand on the fire chief’s symbol and his daughter’s name on the side of the vehicle. “I think they really like you, honey.”
“It can be changed when I leave.” She fastened her seat belt, but wasn’t quick enough to prevent Doug from hopping up into the front seat with her, leaving her father to ride in the back. “Hold on. There are a lot of sharp turns on this road.”
Ricky told her the engine was ready to go. She’d abbreviated the crew and left the pumper/tanker at the firehouse since they had assistance from the police department on this one. John also said county EMS had been dispatched to the scene.
The Cherokee took the lead with the engine and six members of the fire brigade following close behind. Traffic was light on the road, but the fog was rolling in. It would be difficult to see anything on the side of the mountain if it got any denser.
“I heard this was why they called them the Smokies.” Sean held on to the door handle, a little nervous with the conditions and the sharp curves on the road. “They weren’t kidding.”
“It takes some getting used to.” Stella kept both hands on the wheel. “Considering everything is flat back home, these mountains look really tall. They may not be the Rockies, but they’re as much as I want to handle.”
“I heard you’ve been having some forest fire issues this year,” her father continued. “That must be another novelty for you. Is that one of the reasons you’ve stayed so long—all the new things to learn?”
“Not really.” Stella kept her eyes on the dangerous turns, now disguised by the growing fog bank. “It’s hard to explain, Dad. A lot has happened.”
“Sometimes that’s the way life is. I’m proud that you’ve been up to the challenge.”
“Thanks.” She smiled, but was mindful of Doug sitting next to her. She knew that look on his face. He was sulking after she’d told him they weren’t getting back together.
Too bad. He should’ve thought about that before he climbed into bed with someone else.
Rain started falling fitfully as the fire brigade and EMS converged on the road about five miles outside of town. Sweet Pepper police and the county sheriff had blocked the bridge and the road going both ways from the accident site.
Stella put on her bunker coat and went to take a look, seeing the trees pushed down and other signs that a vehicle had gone off the road. She peered over the edge and could barely make out Chum’s truck and camper. Both vehicles were on their side.
“Bad day for this.” Don Rogers was waiting for her. “We’ve got two men down there, trying to get the body out. Once we knew he was dead, there wasn’t much reason to rush.”
“What do you want us to do?” Stella asked him. “I can send a few people down to assist your folks.”
Chief Rogers chuckled when John joined Stella. “You mean one of mine, right? You can put him in a fire brigade uniform, but he’s still Sweet Pepper police. Howdy, John.”
“Chief.” John nodded. “I’m off duty. I thought the fire brigade might need me.”
“Always happy to have you—whatever the uniform,” Rogers said. “I’m not so worried about bringing poor old Chum up. Time doesn’t mean anything to him now. What’s bothering me is that his truck might catch fire. I called the forest service and they’re standing by in case we need the helicopter or Big Bertha. I don’t want to start a fire, but I thought if we do, we can catch it right away with your people, Ms. Griffin.”
Stella agreed. “We’ll be ready with the tank on the engine.”
Big Bertha was an old plane that was fitted to be a water tanker. It carried thousands of gallons of water or chemicals that could be dispersed very rapidly. The helicopter could carry water too, but it was more likely Chief Rogers would use it to help get people off the ground, if necessary.
Sean ended up going down with Stella and John. Ricky and Petey complained because they didn’t get to go down the mountain, even though Stella had explained it was only a threat assessment.
“Be ready up here in case we need help,” she told them. “Don’t be afraid to use one of the big hoses if you have to. The four of you can handle it. If you only need the two-inch, Royce, you and JC take it.”
Going down the mountain didn’t seem as though it would be that hard. The angle and slope lent itself to moving downward. The trick, apparently, was not going down too fast.
Stella had done some training on rappelling during the first few months she’d been in Sweet Pepper. She’d never had to use it before—all of their fires had been on mostly flat surfaces.
Her father was fast. Stella came down a little more slowly with John.
“What’s the matter?” Sean grinned when she’d reached him. “Scared of a little mountain?”
It looked as though some large boulders, two the size of houses, had stopped Chum’s downward plunge. The front end of the
truck he was driving was smashed in. The vehicle had flipped on its side and caught between the boulder and a pine tree. The trailer was hanging, suspended, over the side of the mountain. It was still attached to the truck.
The first two rescue workers were trying to get Chum out of the crushed cab. Stella offered her help when she saw the daunting task. Grimly, the five of them managed to cut the truck door open to free the deputy’s body.
Carefully, they laid the mangled man on a stretcher basket that had been rigged with ropes to pull back to the road.
Before one of the EMS workers could cover Chum’s face, Stella stopped him. There was a large ugly wound on the left side of his head that wasn’t caused by falling down the mountain.
“I don’t think this man died of a heart attack,” Sean whispered to her. “He was shot.”
“I know.” She stood aside as the body was readied for transport. “Let’s take a look at the truck.”
The truck had come down quickly, going through the smaller trees and scrub bushes like a hot knife through butter. “He must’ve been shot while he was driving.” Stella examined the truck’s engine and gas line to see if they were intact. “He came down fast. Deputy Chum was driving way over the forty-five-mile-per-hour limit, I think.”
“That’s what I was thinking too,” Sean said. “Someone had to drive up close to make that shot. It wasn’t easy going that fast. The killer was either an expert or got lucky.”
The rain was falling harder as they got under the truck. It seemed as though it would be all right to have a tow truck pull the vehicle out. Neither father nor daughter saw anything that appeared to be a fire hazard.
“Maybe we should disconnect this trailer.” John joined them once Chum’s body was headed up the mountain. “It’s going to be a drag on the truck. We can haul it up after the truck for the crime scene people to look at.”
Sean agreed. “We better make sure there’s not bottled gas or anything that could ignite, in case it falls.”
Before Stella could make a decision on who was going down to take a look, Sean had already climbed down to a spot where he could see inside the trailer. She watched him go, not liking the possible danger involved—both because he was her father as well as someone who wasn’t a member of her team.
“Your dad is a real go-getter,” John said. “You’re a lot like him.”
“A little.” She kept her eyes on her father, about ten feet below them. “Don’t climb inside that thing,” she yelled down to him. “If you can’t see from the outside, we’ll find another way.”
Sean saluted to show he understood, not using his radio. He moved in closer, his hands resting on the side of the trailer.
“If he falls, my mother is going to kill me,” Stella said.
“What about the truck?” John answered his radio. “Chief Rogers wants to know if he can call for a tow.”
“It looks secure,” she told him. “We’ll have to keep an eye on it as it goes up but from here, it looks safe.”
He nodded and answered Chief Rogers. By that time, Sean had already climbed back up to where John and Stella were standing.
“There’s no gas or connections that I can see, at least in the front,” he said. “I couldn’t see the back of the trailer, but there were some pots and pans. There might at least be Sterno, or some other chemical heating device. We should probably take some hazmat containers down there and clean it out before you try and move it.”
“They’re going to pull the truck out first,” Stella said. “We’ll go from there. Thanks, Dad. Don’t ever do that again.”
Sean laughed. “You’re just jealous because you didn’t get to do it.”
Stella, Sean, and John waited on the side of the mountain so that the tow truck driver didn’t have to come down to hook up the vehicle. The rain was coming down harder, soaking them and the mountainside.
While Sean and John were talking, Stella inspected Chum’s truck. Rain from the broken windshield was making the bobblehead dog on his dashboard move. There was blood everywhere.
Poor old guy. Stella thought about how scared Chum had been when he’d talked to her. It seemed a little too coincidental not to think that his retirement had something to do with his death. Had he been killed because someone had seen him talking to her at the firehouse?
There was a long dent and a scratch of black paint on the driver’s side of the blue truck. It could’ve been from the killer, trying to get up close enough to get a good shot. If so, the killer also had a big blue streak on his or her black vehicle. She used her cell phone camera to get a shot of it in case no one else had.
Maybe it was enough to arrest someone for this. She hoped Chief Rogers would be able to catch the person who did it. It was possible, if Chum was killed for imparting information about Eric’s death, that it could even tie in with that investigation.
The tow truck finally arrived and the driver lowered the big hook and heavy cable. Stella connected it to the back of the truck. She’d done it so many times in her career that she thought she could do it in her sleep.
She radioed Ricky to let her volunteers know to keep alert as the vehicle was raised. The plan was for John, Sean, and Stella to hold their positions to make sure everything was secure as it started up.
The tow truck began to haul the truck up to the road. Stella and her crew stayed well away from the path of the vehicle. Everything seemed to be going fine as the heavy steel cable dragged the truck away from the spot where it had come to rest against the rock.
Staying in place was getting harder for the three firefighters. The new torrent of rain had made the loose rock and mud slippery underfoot. All of them were connected by ropes in case they lost their footing. Stella slipped once as she made way for the truck, slowly inching toward it. She skinned her knee before she could right herself, but it was only a scratch. She signaled that she was okay.
The truck was hanging above the ledge where they waited, swinging like a big, rusty pendulum. Something squealed at the top and the ascent abruptly stopped. The truck swayed sickeningly against the mountain, making noises that caused Stella’s stomach to churn.
“It’s not gonna hold,” Ricky yelled into Stella’s radio. “Get out of the way!”
An instant later, there was a loud snapping sound. The tow truck driver yelled out a warning right before the line broke and the truck went crashing down the mountain.
Chapter 10
John and Sean huddled together with their arms around Stella as the old truck slipped close by them. It hit the trailer and both vehicles bounced hundreds of feet into the foggy valley below them.
There was a small explosion and a shaft of fire shot into the foggy air. The heavy rain put it out before Chief Rogers had time to call the forest service.
“We didn’t need the engine after all,” Sean said with a smile. “I hope the bars are open. I need a drink.”
Sean, Stella, and John climbed back to the top again. Their feet and hands slipped at nearly every movement up the face of the mountain. They were covered with rain and mud by the time they reached the top, but the important thing was that they made it.
Their hands were scraped and scratched from the climb and Stella’s leg was bleeding. Regulations said they had to let the paramedics treat them at the scene in case they needed to be transported. After cleaning and a few bandages, they were released.
There was a lot of handshaking and backslapping. The fire brigade put away its equipment and the tow truck got ready to leave. The ambulance had to wait at the site for another vehicle to transport Chum’s body to the morgue at the coroner’s office. They weren’t allowed to pick up a dead body and take it anywhere.
Chief Rogers congratulated Stella and thanked her for her help. “Thought you might be a goner down there for a minute. I’m glad you’re okay.” He stopped short of smiling at her. “I’d like to see you in m
y office as soon as you get back and get cleaned up.”
“What’s the problem, Chief?” Sean got between them. He didn’t like the way the other man was looking at his daughter. “You got a beef with my daughter?”
“There’s no problem,” Rogers assured him. “We got some new information about Deputy Chum’s death that I want to follow through on. Your daughter had a talk with him right before he left Sweet Pepper. Whatever he might’ve said to her could be important. I promise not to keep her away for too long, Mr. Griffin.”
“I’ll go with you.” Sean possessively took her arm. “I’ll be right there with you, Stella. Don’t worry.”
“I can handle this on my own, Dad.” She nodded to Chief Rogers. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
They didn’t talk much on the way back to the firehouse. Stella was used to it. Mostly, firefighters weren’t as talkative as Ricky. It was a little better when they saved a life. In this case, they had dropped the only evidence that might have helped find Chum’s killer and he was dead to start with.
Stella got back to the firehouse, showered, and changed clothes. She was still cold, despite the warm shower and the heavy sweater she took out of her locker. She wished she was going back to the cabin to curl up in front of a nice fire that Eric had made. It would have to wait.
Her father had borrowed some warm, clean clothing from JC. They were around the same size. There was almost a full crew at the firehouse, waiting to hear what had happened after they were told to stay home from the call. After everything was cleaned up and put away, Stella thanked everyone for their hard work and shared a minimalized account of what had happened.
It looked as though many of her volunteers were going to hang around the coffeepot and talk, as they frequently did. Stella had to get back to town. She started toward the Cherokee, the rain still falling.
John intercepted her before her father and Doug could join her. “So that’s the ex? I expected more.”
