Playing With Fire

by J. J. Cook

  Ricky shook his head, the little curl on his forehead moving back and forth as he navigated the fire engine through Sweet Pepper’s narrow streets with the siren blazing.

  “I know what I felt, Chief. Petey felt it too. She’s probably scared.”

  “Maybe.” It wasn’t Stella’s place to disagree about affairs of the heart and she usually didn’t get involved.

  It happened sometimes between firefighters, like it did in any other profession. She wasn’t worried about it—unless it caused a problem with performance.

  They went east out of town and followed the old highway until they reached the cutoff for Sunset Beach. The lake was visible before the turn, glistening in the sun. There were a few boats out on it, their white sails fluttering in the breeze.

  “No such luck,” Ricky said as he turned on the bad road. “I think we can get up there, but it’s gonna be rough.”

  “Take your time,” she said. “I mean it, Ricky. I don’t feel like dropping off the side of the mountain into the lake today. Do the best you can.”

  She radioed the same advice to Kent in the pumper/tanker. She realized he had more experience getting a large vehicle in and out of tight spaces since he was an over-the-road trucker but she’d rather say it than be sorry she hadn’t.

  The engine had plenty of power to pull up the steep road. The wide tires made it through the deep ruts but had to straddle the edges of the road to keep going.

  Stella looked for smoke but didn’t see any in the cloudless blue sky. There was no smell of it either when she opened her window.

  The road flattened out at the first cabin but didn’t widen. There was even less gravel and more potholes. The engine went up and down through them. Stella knew it was probably hard on her people riding in back. She didn’t like the situation and hoped John would fight for something better if the town made him fire chief after she was gone.

  “Do we have an address?” Stella asked.

  “215 Half Moon Road.” Ricky looked at the GPS. “We’re right here. I don’t see anything.”

  The only thing Stella saw was a man standing at the foot of his driveway. The cabin behind him rose up three stories above the lake. She was sure the view was fantastic, but if there was a fire, she saw no sign of it.

  “Park here,” she told Ricky. “Let’s see what’s going on.”

  They walked up to the man, who was dressed in a blue-and-white striped seersucker suit with a blue bow tie. He had a thick head of white hair and was leaning heavily on a cane.

  John reached Stella before she spoke to the man. “That’s Barney Falk—he was the state rep for a long time from this area. Be careful.”

  She nodded. “Mr. Falk. I’m Fire Chief Stella Griffin. Did you call in an emergency at this address?”

  Falk pushed the top of an old stopwatch. “I’ve had this stopwatch since I was in high school on the track team, Chief Griffin. Let me tell you, I could’ve run up here faster back then than you got here today.”

  Stella glanced at John. He shrugged.

  “We made good time up here, Mr. Falk,” she assured him. “What’s your emergency?”

  “My emergency, young woman, is that the insurance company has raised the rates on my home because of inadequate fire protection. What are you doing to improve your response time?”

  Chapter 22

  Stella didn’t like confrontation, especially with the people she served. She didn’t back down from it either.

  In this case she felt justified explaining her take on the situation to the former local representative. “Mr. Falk, being a former legislator, you should know calling in a bogus emergency request for services is illegal. Perpetrators can be subject to fine, imprisonment, or both. In this case, you cost the people of Sweet Pepper some money on their taxes for nothing.”

  Falk smiled at her like a predatory fox. “Sue me.”

  Stella pretended that she didn’t hear him. “I’ve made several recommendations that the road coming into Sunset Beach be updated. Not only is it dangerous, but you have no second exit from the community. The road isn’t adequately maintained by your property manager. It should be turned over to the state or the town for maintenance. I’m going to make a further recommendation to the state and town that the Sweet Pepper Fire Brigade be relieved of responding to calls here until the road is repaired.”

  “You go, Chief,” Ricky muttered on her left side.

  “Careful, Stella,” John whispered on the right.

  “Well, you just think you have this all figured out, don’t you, Chief Griffin?” Falk said. “I believe you’ll be hearing from my attorney. And let me leave you with this thought—if anything happens to one of these cabins because of your irresponsible behavior, you could be liable for criminal prosecution. Good day to you.”

  The old man turned and limped slowly back to his home. Stella led the way back to the vehicles parked alongside the road.

  “I know you’re Ben Carson’s granddaughter,” John said, “but Barney Falk isn’t a good man to rile up. Better watch your back.”

  “It’ll be your problem when I leave. You saw what the road was like. If this had been an emergency, it’s likely we would’ve lost one of these homes. He was right. It took us too long to get up here.”

  John shrugged. “You know me being the next fire chief isn’t carved in stone. They asked me. We talked about it. It doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

  Stella searched his handsome face. “Do you want the job?”

  “No. Not really. The council is concerned that Petey and Ricky are too young and inexperienced for it.” His eyes focused on hers. “I want you to stay and keep doing what you do. You’re good at it and you aren’t held back by all our taboos. I don’t know what I would’ve said to Mr. Falk, but it would’ve ended with ‘sir’.”

  She was surprised by his words, though honesty had never been one of their problems. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m sure it will all work out, one way or another. Don’t take the job if you don’t want it.”

  John smiled. “Stella—”

  They both realized that everyone was listening to what should’ve been a private conversation. Stella sent the team back to their places on the trucks and they looked for an open area large enough to turn around.

  “John is gonna take over when you leave?” Ricky sounded angry. “I should’ve known they wouldn’t care who you said should be in charge.”

  “Don’t give up so easy. John doesn’t want the job. He wants to be police chief. You and Petey might have to fight for what you want. Show them how good you are.”

  “Yeah. Right, Chief.” Ricky managed to get the engine back down the treacherous mountain road after turning it around. “I don’t think anyone’s going to listen.”

  Stella didn’t answer. She was leaving. The best she could do was make recommendations, which she’d done. She couldn’t look over the town council’s shoulders to make sure they followed them.

  The whole group was subdued when they got back to the firehouse. Cleanup went smoothly and everything was put away for the next call.

  But it felt like it was the end of something. There was none of the cheerful chatter or good-natured teasing that usually went on.

  Stella made sure everyone understood the situation and that it wasn’t their fault. They’d done their job, in record time. The problem with the road into Sunset Beach would have to be addressed.

  When she got back to the cabin, her parents and Doug were back from sightseeing. They told her all about their experiences in Sevierville and Pigeon Forge and she told them about the fire brigade’s annoying call.

  “I wish I would’ve been there,” Sean said. “Men like that need to be taken down a peg or two so they can relate to the rest of us.”

  Stella took a deep breath and twisted her hair into a ponytail. “I guess it’s no
t my problem. The next chief will have to deal with it. I’ve done what I can.”

  She told them about her and Walt finding the Impala they were looking for.

  She was looking at Eric the whole time she spoke. His face was set in grim lines. She was still trying to decide if she should show him the pictures she’d taken.

  “Dad invited us out to a barbecue tonight for dinner,” Barbara told her. “It’s one of the fund-raisers for the Sweet Pepper Festival. It also happens to be where the candidates for the next Sweet Pepper Festival Queen are introduced. Are you planning to go?”

  Since there were hundreds of events leading up to the festival, Stella had crossed this one off of her list. “I don’t think so, Mom. I’m beat. You guys go. I’m sure there will be lots of food and music.”

  “And there will be a former Sweet Pepper Festival Queen attending,” Sean said. “Your mother told me she was the festival queen when she was seventeen. Wouldn’t you like to see a picture of her?”

  Stella smiled. “I’m sure she was pretty in her gown and crown. What was your talent, Mom?”

  Her mother blushed. “I twirled a flaming baton. I think the music was something from the Doobie Brothers. Everyone was shocked by my taste in trashy music.”

  That made Sean and Stella both laugh. Doug wasn’t sure who the Doobie Brothers were.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Barbara stroked Stella’s hair. “Or we could stay here with you. We don’t have to go.”

  “No. You guys go. I’m going to have a quiet supper, take a shower, and go to sleep. It’s been hard today. I don’t think I want to see anyone.”

  “Okay. We’re going to change,” her mother said. “What do you wear to something like this now?”

  “I’d recommend jeans,” Stella said. “The picnic tables at the VFW Park will rip anything else to shreds.”

  After her mother and father had gone to their room, Doug offered to stay home with Stella. “I don’t think this sounds like somewhere I want to go. I’d rather stay here with you.”

  Some brochures Sean and Barbara had brought back with them from their sightseeing, blew off the table. The door to the back deck opened and closed—but only after the brochures hit the floor.

  Doug looked around, his face a little pale. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  “I thought we settled this.” Stella frowned at Eric. “There is no ghost.”

  “I don’t believe you. I heard what you said to that man in the barbershop. This place is haunted. And I don’t think the old fire chief wants me here.”

  Eric grinned. “He’s more perceptive than I thought.”

  “He wants me to go out, doesn’t he? Can you hear him, Stella? Should I stay in town tonight?”

  “No one, including a ghost, is going to hurt you here, Doug,” she promised. “I don’t think I’d be very good company tonight. I think you should go and have a good time.”

  Doug looked around again. “Jeans, you say?”

  She smiled and nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

  After her parents and Doug were gone, Eric immediately appeared. “Were you able to get those pictures? Did you get them developed? I’m not sure how the digital aspect works. I see people talking about it on TV, but that’s about all I understand.”

  Stella sighed. She was hoping he’d forgotten about it and she wouldn’t have to make the decision. It seemed she didn’t have much choice unless she wanted to lie to him about the pictures. She decided he’d been lied to enough.

  “I hope you’re ready for this.” She took out her cell phone and plugged it into her laptop. “It isn’t pretty.”

  His broad chest puffed out and he raised his head. “I’ve seen my share of bad things. Not as much as you, I’m sure, since you probably have as many fires in Chicago every day as Sweet Pepper has in a year. I think I can take it.”

  “I wouldn’t say that many.” She clicked the camera image on her laptop to download the pictures she’d taken. “And that’s different. I’m sure I’d be more emotionally involved if my mother was killed in a fire. In this case, you’re the victim.”

  He sat down beside her at the table. “Just show me the pictures. I’m a ghost. I don’t have mental health issues.”

  The pictures came up on the screen and Stella looked at them with Eric as a slide show. “I’m sure there’s enough blood in the trunk to safely say that Chum was right. You were put in the trunk after someone shot you in the head.”

  “You mean after Shu Carriker shot me in the head,” he reminded her.

  “Maybe. That bothers me. It’s a small thing—but if Shu shot you, he’d want to get you and him out of there right away. Let’s say he had an accomplice—the second mystery man Chum saw taking you out of the silo. Why did Shu go back inside right before the roof collapsed? It doesn’t make any sense and yet his remains were found in there and mistaken for yours.”

  “Who knows? Maybe he dropped his gun and didn’t want it to be found. It could’ve been anything. That looks like my glove and my boot in the trunk. I don’t think anyone wanted to set Shu up for killing me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “It couldn’t have been a gun. It, or something left of it, would have still been in the silo.” She shrugged. “Unless it was lost when the rest of the silo was demolished. Since there was no real investigation into what happened, anything is possible.”

  “Don’t be so hard on them, Stella. Maybe today people investigate everything. Back then, if it looked like a duck and it quacked like a duck—we didn’t investigate to see if it was a duck.”

  She smiled. “It’s nice that you can be so forgiving about it.”

  “Those people were my friends. I never questioned once whether they would lay down their lives for me. I don’t believe now that they didn’t do the best they could at the time. Anyone can look back and see what they might have done.”

  “Okay.” She rubbed her eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears in them. “Maybe someone was trying to set Carriker up. How about shutting him up? Maybe when it was over, someone killed him and tossed him in the silo while it was still hot. They knew the coroner wouldn’t get the remains for a few days. It’s been a good cover-up for forty years, and kept everyone from trying to figure out who killed you.”

  Eric turned his eyes from the laptop screen to Stella’s face. “You could be right about that.”

  Hero had come home with Stella. He lifted his head to start barking as Eric told Stella that someone was there. She looked out the window and saw her grandfather’s black Lincoln pull into the yard with Bernard at the wheel.

  “What does he want?” Eric asked. “I thought he was supposed to be at the barbecue with your mother.”

  “I don’t know, but no cute tricks, please,” Stella warned as she went to open the front door.

  “Why not?” Eric grinned. “I have to practice so I can scare off potential buyers.”

  “Stella!” Ben greeted her with a hug as he reached the top of the porch. “Nice to see you. I take it you aren’t going to the barbecue with your folks.”

  “No.” She smiled at him and ushered him inside. He declined coffee or anything else. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? That’s why you’re here.”

  He took the seat Eric had been sitting in. “I confess. I saw them get out of the rental car at the park and you weren’t with them. I came here to talk with you privately about a few things.”

  “Okay.” She sat at the table too. Eric perched on the stairs behind them. “What’s up?”

  “I got a call from an old friend today.”

  “Let me guess—Chief Rogers? Or was it Barney Falk? I’ve had a long day of making people angry.”

  He laughed. “Yes, you have. You seem to have that effect on some people. I got an interesting call from Bob Floyd as well. Did you really threaten him with a ghost?
”

  “I do what I have to. He tried to set the woods on fire to get rid of the cabin.”

  “You’re a chip of the old block.” He chuckled. “I also heard about you and Walt finding that old car. I guess that means Shu Carriker killed Eric Gamlyn. What a pity.”

  Eric growled a little and started toward them. Stella stared angrily at him and mouthed a warning.

  “Were you involved in that, Ben?” she asked. “Did you pay Shu Carriker to kill Eric Gamlyn?”

  Chapter 23

  “Pardon me?” Ben wasn’t used to that kind of directness.

  Stella could see the shock in his face. He’d said many times that she was like him—to a point. He seemed to like that they shared a characteristic, but didn’t expect it to be turned on him.

  “People say Shu Carriker worked for you. They say if he killed Chief Gamlyn, you told him to. Something about getting thirty million dollars from the state? I guess that was about the same time you did those upgrades at the pepper plant.”

  For an instant, Ben let down his guard and Stella saw the ruthless face of a man who always got everything he wanted, done his way.

  Eric saw it too and was immediately at Stella’s side. No way the old man was going to hurt her, not in his house.

  Ben suddenly relaxed and smiled. The other man was replaced by the affable grandfather he wanted her to know. “My very dear granddaughter, we’ve talked about this before. A man in my position is hated and feared on a regular basis. I lay off a dozen people—the story is that I kicked them down the stairs personally. Believe me—I couldn’t have accomplished all the terrible things people gossip about in my lifetime, even with Shu Carriker’s help. Surely you must have realized that by now.”

  She partially agreed, but she also wanted a real yes or no answer, not rhetoric. “Did you tell Shu Carriker to kill Eric Gamlyn or not? It’s an easy question to answer.”

  His smile widened. “You’re not wearing a wire, are you?”