by J. J. Cook
“And?”
“And I didn’t realize I thought that much about it. He may be right.” She explained briefly why she wouldn’t reach that rank at home. “Maybe I like being the boss.”
Eric smiled. “Are you looking for reasons to stay—or to go?”
“Maybe both.” She smiled back at him and yawned at the same time. “I think I’m confused. Everything seemed so clear in my life before I got here. Now it’s kind of hazy.”
“It’s not unusual to want to advance your career,” he said. “Give yourself a break, Stella. You’re a good chief. Your people like and respect you.”
“Maybe.” She yawned again and pulled the blanket that was folded on the sofa around her. “I don’t know. I thought staying was only about helping you figure things out, but maybe that was an excuse. My ego might be totally out of control.”
She snuggled down into the comfortable sofa and closed her eyes. “I guess I can sleep for a while knowing you’re here to take first watch. Goodnight, Eric.”
“Goodnight, Stella.”
The cabin was quiet around him except for the sounds of people sleeping. This was what he missed the most—being around other humans. It was what Stella had brought here with her. It was more than his emotional feelings for her that made him hate to see her go. She was going to take his life with her when she was gone.
• • •
Stella was up as the sun peeked over the top of the mountains. It was foggy again, but quickly dissipating in the drier weather.
She put on boots and gloves, took Hero for a short walk, and then went out to search for the point of origin for last night’s fire. It had to be somewhere around the base of the cabin.
The early morning sunshine cut through what was left of the fog, leaving only the smell of smoke lingering in the trees. Birds sang from the branches and the river gurgled as it moved across the rocks.
Eric watched from the deck as Stella moved slowly through the trees, turning over branches and checking around the bases of tree trunks. He knew she’d found something when she looked up and nodded at him. He had to wait, impatiently, until she came back with a full report.
Stella had been a few hundred feet from the cabin when she’d found a black, charred area at the base of a tree. It had started very hot—probably with some accelerant—but had burned out without going very far.
She looked up. If the tree had ignited, the top branches would have dropped sparks and probably fallen onto the roof and deck of the cabin as the tree had burned.
It was clever, really. No one could be blamed for burning the cabin if it was just a careless person in the woods who started a fire. That happened all the time, as Zane could testify.
If the cabin itself had been set on fire, it would be arson and would attract a lot more attention.
“Is this it?” Sean found her looking at the spot outside and taking samples of the charred wood.
“Yep. Good location for burning the cabin.”
Sean’s eyes followed the same path hers had. “Is that what you think happened?”
Stella told him about the threat from Bob Floyd.
“I’m sure the councilman didn’t mean while you were still occupying it,” Sean said. “Even if he wants this land, most people aren’t willing to do something that drastic. He only has to wait until you leave, if I understand the situation with the town owning the property.”
Stella couldn’t disagree with his logic. Yet, here they were, looking at a good spot to get rid of the cabin without anyone taking the blame for it.
“I wonder what stopped it,” Sean said. “You can see how hot it was.” He put his head down at the blackened tree bark and sniffed. “Definitely gasoline. Why didn’t it burn right up?”
“Maybe the rain and fog yesterday was enough to keep it from taking off.” Stella suggested the idea because it could make sense. She didn’t believe it, but it was a rational answer.
She really believed that the tree might have been close enough to the cabin for Eric to influence the fire. He had a fifty-foot proximity outside the cabin. It was how he kept out scorpions and snakes and kept Hero from running away. She didn’t know how that worked but supposed it was possible that he could keep a tree close to the cabin from burning.
“Maybe.” Sean looked around them at the large old trees and the river. “If you’re right about someone starting this fire to burn the cabin, it’s going to be a big surprise when they realize it didn’t happen.”
“I guess we should go back inside so I can scrounge up breakfast, if that’s possible.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sean said. “Your mother already tried. She can’t figure out how you’re surviving up here with no food in the kitchen. She went down to a convenience store she remembered seeing on the way into town yesterday.”
They walked together through the crunchy leaves underfoot as they climbed the embankment back to the cabin. They were talking about going home and the fire brigade, with a few comments about Ben Carson thrown in.
As they reached the bottom step of the porch, Doug came running out, still in his underwear, a look of fear on his face.
“Stella, this house is haunted! Don’t go inside. We could all be killed.”
Chapter 16
“Slow down, Doug,” Sean cautioned. “You should take a deep breath and go put some pants on.”
Eric was standing on the porch, obviously amused.
Stella glared at him and then turned to Doug. “What happened that makes you think the cabin is haunted?”
“Well, first it was the bedclothes all out on the floor. I didn’t put them there. Then, I was coming downstairs and happened to glance toward the deck. The door opened and something closed it back. Then a chair moved at the table. I saw the fireplace screen move too. I’m telling you, there’s a ghost in there—just like they have on those reality TV shows.”
Sean glanced up at the cabin, his eyes narrowing as they focused on the porch, exactly where Eric was standing.
Stella wondered for a moment if he could see Eric standing there too. There had been all those childhood stories about people with “the sight.” Maybe that’s why she could see Eric.
But either Sean didn’t trust his eyes or he was looking at something else. He shook his head and berated Doug. “Get hold of yourself, son. This is not the way to win Stella back. She’s been living here for months. Don’t you think she’d have noticed if there was a ghost about the cabin?”
Doug shivered. “I know what I saw. Something weird is going on in there.”
Barbara pulled up at that moment. “I’m glad all of you are out here—though I think Doug needs some clothes. You can help me carry in the groceries.” She opened the trunk, revealing dozens of bags full of food.
“What did you do?” Sean laughed. “Is this the way a pepper heiress buys food? We’re only staying a few days. An army couldn’t eat this much in a week.”
“Just take it inside,” Barbara said. “And Doug, get dressed.”
“There’s a ghost inside,” he argued.
“I know. The ghost of the dead fire chief.” She smiled at him. “I told you not to listen to those stories at Beau’s. People told Stella the same thing when she first got here.”
Barbara looked at her daughter. “Has anything scary happened since you moved in?”
Since you put it that way—“Not a thing. I’ve never been afraid of living here.”
Stella probably would have lied if her mother had asked her if she’d seen a ghost. This way, she didn’t have to.
Doug stared at the cabin with dread etched on his face. “I won’t go in alone.”
Barbara took two bags of groceries and walked into the cabin. “You’re not alone. Now go upstairs and get dressed. I’m making pancakes.”
Eric took a step out of the way for Barbara to walk
inside. He wasn’t as kind to Doug and made the man walk right through him.
Stella knew from experience that it was a disconcerting feeling to walk through a ghost. It was like an electric current running through you—from the inside out.
They talked about what Stella and Sean had found outside that was left from the fire. Sean felt like Stella should report it, whether she believed a town official was involved or not.
Doug agreed with him. “How can you expect the police to do their job if you don’t tell them everything? You should tell them about this whole investigation into the fire chief’s death too. It isn’t your job to investigate murders.”
“It is my job to investigate arson,” Stella said. “We don’t technically have an arson investigator.”
“Is anyone going to think a small fire in the woods is arson?” Sean asked.
“I do.” Stella shrugged. “I guess that’s what matters.”
“So what’s next then?” Barbara wondered. “Do you have any suspects?”
Stella explained about Bob Floyd. “I’m going to talk to him today. At least he’ll know I’m not stupid enough to think it was some random act. I don’t expect him to confess, just be aware that I’m watching him.”
“I’ll come with you,” Doug offered. “It never hurts to have backup.”
“I’ll come too,” Sean said. “Do you want to add your muscle to the group, Barbara?”
“Me? No, I don’t think so. I’m meeting up with Sandy Selvy, an old friend of mine. She’s the town clerk now.” She smiled at Stella. “Sandy tells me you two talk all the time.”
“We do,” Stella agreed. “I guess you could drop the three of us off at the firehouse and I’ll pick up the Cherokee. I’m not sure where we’ll find Bob. We might have to look around for him.”
Barbara wasn’t happy with what she was wearing or what the damp weather had done to her hair while she was out. She went back in the bedroom to change clothes while Sean took Doug to look at the burned spot on the tree.
Stella had said she needed to take care of something and didn’t join them in the woods. Instead, she went out on the deck to talk to Eric. He was leaning against the rail watching them.
“So you think it was set on purpose,” he said without turning around.
“There’s no doubt. We could smell the gasoline. I think even Bob won’t be too surprised when I come looking for him today. If it had worked out, I don’t know if anyone would’ve noticed that small area where the fire was started. It would’ve taken out the cabin.”
“I told you—I won’t let that happen.”
Stella didn’t want to bring up the fact that the old firehouse he’d built had also been under his protection when it had burned.
Instead she said, “You’re not Superman, Eric. You can’t stop everything bad from happening. If the woods caught on fire, you probably couldn’t protect the cabin.”
“So what stopped the fire from spreading if someone put gasoline on the tree?”
“You’ve got me on that one. I don’t have to tell you how it should’ve gone. The fire died out, from what I can tell. It may be that it was close enough to the cabin and you protected it.”
“I can’t protect much outside the cabin.”
“I don’t have any other explanation for it. The woods are dry. There wasn’t that much rain after the fire was set. You fill in the blanks.”
“I don’t know.” Eric looked out at the trees that surrounded them like sentinels. “He’ll try again. He won’t give up that easy.”
“We’ll have to keep that from happening.”
Eric glanced at her. “I’m sorry I scared Doug this morning. I knew your parents were outside. I forgot he was upstairs.”
“Yeah. Right.”
“He’s not that bad—for a cheating, womanizing cop.”
Stella laughed. “You like him that much, huh?”
“John Trump isn’t any better. You have to do something about your bad taste in men if you ever hope to get married and settle down someday.”
“I’m glad you don’t get to make decisions about my love life.” She turned to go inside. “I’m going into town to find Bob and, hopefully, scare him off.”
“Bring him home for lunch.” Eric grinned maliciously. “I’ll scare him off.”
“I don’t think he’d come here. He believes you haunt the cabin. That’s probably why he wants to burn the place rather than use it as part of his whitewater rafting access.”
“Too bad.” He stood beside her. “Be careful. I’m glad your father and Doug are going with you. I wish I could lend a hand too.”
Stella left him on the deck as Doug and Sean came back into the cabin. Barbara had changed clothes and was ready to go. They all got into the rental car, with Hero, and drove down Firehouse Road.
Tagger had been on duty with communications. He was finishing up his shift and logging out as Allen Wise, the barber, came in to take his place.
Stella saw Tagger yawning and stretching, talking to Allen about how quiet the night had been after their busy day. She thought this might be a perfect opportunity to talk to him about how Chief Rogers had known Chum was at the firehouse before his death.
Sean and Doug waited in the Cherokee for her. Stella caught Tagger before he went outside to meet his ride. The older man didn’t drive anymore and had to depend on people bringing him to the firehouse. But he’d never missed a practice, or his time to monitor communications.
He sometimes went out on calls with them, only in a supportive role. Usually he preferred to sit in his chair and give instructions to the volunteers at the firehouse, between stories about the Vietnam War and the old fire brigade.
“Tagger? Could I have a minute?”
“Sure, Chief.” He smiled broadly. “What can I do for you?”
“I think someone told Chief Rogers that Deputy Chum was here talking to me before he died.”
His grin got bigger. “That was me.” He pulled at the Sweet Pepper Cougars ball cap he was wearing. “I told him all about it.”
Stella was surprised by his admission, maybe more so by his enthusiasm to admit it. “Why did you tell him?”
“He asked me. I couldn’t lie to him—he’s the police chief. I wouldn’t lie to you either. You’re the fire chief.”
Stella frowned. “So in other words, he already knew Chum had been here. He wanted you to confirm it.”
“I guess so. You know, the police have to do an investigation into what happened to Deputy Chum because he died suspiciously.” Tagger leaned toward her, enough for her to notice that he’d been drinking a little again. “Between you and me, Chief, I think Chum may have been murdered.”
She realized that Tagger didn’t know anything else about the subject. She was going to have to look elsewhere for the informant who’d seen Chum at the station and then told Chief Rogers.
Tagger could be a source for another subject, though. “What about Chief Gamlyn? Was he murdered?”
Tagger’s face twisted and went pale. “I’ve heard people say that. Eric was a hero. You know that, Chief. He saved our lives when the firehouse burned. He watches over all of us. Who’d murder a man like that?”
“I’ve heard that he was shot during the silo fire and two men brought his body here and hid it behind the wall.” Stella pushed a little further. “Have you ever heard that?”
Tagger’s ride, waiting in the parking lot in his old green pickup, honked his horn. “I gotta go, Chief. Bear don’t like waiting.”
“This is important.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Do you think that could’ve happened that night? You were at the silo fire, right?”
He was squirming, beads of perspiration forming on his forehead and upper lip. His eyes were never able to focus on one thing for long, a result, everyone said, of Agent Orange from his tim
e in Vietnam. They were roaming now, everywhere but her face.
“Tagger?” Stella was determined to get an answer. It was obvious that he knew something.
Finally his eyes focused on hers. “I’ve heard that story. I don’t believe it. No one would want to kill the chief and put his body in that old Impala. I gotta go.”
She watched him walk away as quickly as his arthritic legs would take him. He’d definitely heard the story before. Chum had said he’d never told anyone else about seeing the Impala.
Did that mean that Chum was lying, or that Tagger had seen Eric taken out of the silo too?
Stella spoke with Allen briefly, making sure he was monitoring the forest service calls too.
The fifty-something barber, who worked for Bob Floyd, pulled his fingers through the thick head of tobacco-colored hair he took such pride in. “You got it, Chief! Glad to hear that old cabin is okay after the fire last night.”
“Me too. Thanks, Allen. See you later.” Stella left him and went back to the Cherokee for the ride into town.
The town of Sweet Pepper had about five thousand residents. It was still a Main Street kind of place with small shops up and down the two-lane shopping district.
The Sweet Pepper Café was next to town hall. Potter’s Hardware was next to the Daily Grind Coffee and Tea Shop. A little farther down, the Smittys ran the Sweet Pepper Gazette weekly newspaper. There were a few hair and nail salons along Main Street, with a computer store and a souvenir shop for the tourists.
Baker Lockwood ran the pharmacy and loved to lean on the counter, gossiping with his customers. There was a sporting goods store and a tiny bookstore next to the town attorney’s office.
The VFW Park and picnic area was a short walk away, close to Flo’s bed-and-breakfast. Following the road, the older houses with quaint names and gingerbread charm kept watch with their hundred-year-old oaks standing guard beside them.
