Teacup Novellas 02 - Strike the Match

by Diane Moody

  “Well then. That’s great. Let me get Theodore to show you around, show you the ropes.”

  She passed him off to her fellow volunteer, confident he’d have more luck communicating with Shep than she did. “That is the strangest man I have ever met. You could die of old age waiting for him to finish a thought.”

  “What’s that?” Arlene asked, setting the cash box under the covered table.

  “Oh never mind. Can you mind the fort for a few minutes? I’d like to run over to Tyler’s and make sure he and Keri eat a hot meal. If I don’t make them sit and eat, they’ll grab one of those nasty corn dogs at the convenience store and call it dinner.”

  “Sure enough. We’ve got plenty of help. Take your time.”

  She buttoned her coat and took one final look at their newest volunteer just as he turned to look over his shoulder at her. She waved, watching his face crimson as he nodded in response.

  “Never thought I’d see the day,” she mumbled, heading toward her car.

  “Keri, just because you’ve known him all your life, you can’t dismiss him as a suspect. In fact, at this point, everyone’s a suspect. You have to start from that point of view.”

  “What about ‘innocent until proven guilty’?” she asked, obviously fighting the familiar frustration that seemed to always lurk between them. “Isn’t that a basic premise? This is still America, last I checked.”

  “You’re right, but as an investigative reporter, you start with a list of suspects then eliminate them as you verify your facts. And you can’t eliminate Jerry just because you know him.”

  “No offense, Grant, but you didn’t grow up here. You don’t know these people. Dad and Jerry may have had their differences over the years, but Jerry would never do something like this.”

  “Yeah? And you know this how? Because he used to bounce you on his knee when you were little? Because he joined the family for Thanksgiving dinner? Bought you Barbie dolls back in the day?”

  “No,” she answered defensively. “But he was like family. I know the guy. He just wouldn’t do something like this.”

  Grant leaned back in his chair. “But am I right in remembering Nita told me he and your dad had a nasty falling out a while back? Ten years or so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why was that?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she exhaled. “Jerry went through a tough time. His daughter was accidentally killed by a drunk driver. His wife left him. He . . . changed.”

  “How? How did he change?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “He started drinking.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it? People whose lives or loved ones are damaged or killed by drunk drivers turn into drunks themselves? Go figure.”

  She huffed, ignoring him. “Dad caught him drunk on the job one too many times. He warned him, Jerry promised to do better, but didn’t. Then his workmanship started to suffer. Dad couldn’t rely on him to do a good job any more. He tried to help him, tried to get him into a recovery program, but the harder he tried, the more defensive Jerry became. Finally, Dad had to let him go. Jerry started his own construction company a short time later.”

  “So he’s in competition with your father now?”

  “I wouldn’t call it ‘competition,’ though he probably thinks so. Everyone knows his work is second-rate. But he undercuts Dad, bidding low on jobs. Folks who want cheap go to Jerry. Those who prefer quality hire Dad. At least, they did before the economy tanked.”

  “I know it hurt your Dad’s business. Jerry’s too?”

  “I have no idea. I’d assume so.”

  “Is there still bad blood between them?”

  “Dad got over it years ago. I mean, he had to do what he had to do. He’s got good men working for him now. It’s not like he’s still fretting over all of it.”

  “And Jerry?”

  She paused for a minute. Grant wondered how much she really knew about her dad’s nemesis. He could almost hear the debate going on in her head, trying to determine if there was any possible way Jerry would do something so despicable to his former friend.

  “I honestly don’t know. He’s a loose canon. Shoots his mouth off a lot. Or so I’m told. I haven’t seen him since I left for school a couple years ago.”

  Grant stood up and came around his desk. She stood and followed him down the short hallway. “Keep him on the list. Talk to your dad about him. See what he thinks. Did you ever track down Zack?”

  Keri started toward the back door. “Not yet. I’ll try to find him tomorrow. Any word from the Blankenships?”

  “Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”

  “I forgot to tell you I ran into their son Matt out at the site this morning.”

  “Didn’t know they had a son.”

  “Yeah, he’s doing what he can until they can get back here. They’re stuck overseas somewhere. Something about problems getting flights because of weather. It’s strange. Until I saw him, I hadn’t even thought about how they’d all react to losing their new home.” She looked down, rubbing her wrist. “I guess I’ve been pretty self-absorbed, worried about my own situation. And Dad’s too. Hadn’t even stopped to think about them losing their dream home.”

  “How old is Matt?”

  “Oh, probably a couple of years older than I am. He said he’s in school somewhere. Though I don’t think he ever said where. He was pretty distraught. Anxious for his folks to get home, I’d imagine.”

  “Learn anything from him?”

  “No. He seemed amused that I was trying to find out who burned his house down.”

  “Well, put him on the list.”

  “You’re kidding, right? It’s his house. Why would he burn down his own home?”

  “Which is the exact question you need to ask yourself as you look into it. Put him on the list, Keri.”

  She rolled her eyes—something he was getting used to by now. Even when she got under his skin with all her annoying antics, he couldn’t fight the attraction.

  He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t help it.

  “You’re the boss,” she groaned, heading down the steps.

  “That, I am. Keep in touch.”

  She paused at the bottom of the steps. He leaned against the door jamb, folding his arms across his chest.

  She stood there, not turning around. “Grant, I—”

  “Yes?”

  She twisted her head, looking up at him. Her brow furrowed as she started to say something, then stopped. “Nothing. Good night.”

  “Good night, Keri. See you tomorrow.”

  Chapter 8

  “Soup’s on! I’m not going to call you all again.”

  Nita set a third bowl of chowder on the table as Keri and Tyler shuffled into the kitchen, then sliced a loaf of bread she’d baked that morning. “Sorry, Sis. Just finishing up a call with Bud.”

  Keri took a seat. “Any news?”

  A weary smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “Not really. Except I hear there’s a new reporter in town who’s been rather busy today.”

  She buttered a thick wedge of bread. “It’s no big deal, Dad. Just helping Grant over at the paper. Not exactly the New York Times.”

  “Well, I think it’s wonderful,” Nita added. “You and Grant will make a great team. You mark my words.”

  “There’s no ‘team’ in the making here, Aunt Nita. I’m just working for him. Temporarily, I might add.”

  “So what did you do on your first day on the job?” Tyler asked, digging his spoon into the creamy chowder.

  “Grant asked me to look into the fire investigation. See if we might help speed up the process.”

  “Is that so? And how do you plan to do that?”

  “I’m putting together a list of suspects.”

  “Suspects?” Nita asked, taking a seat. “Goodness, how do you even start on something like that?”

  “Oh, I’m just nosing around. Asking questions here and there. Had an interesting conversation with your neighbor, Aunt
Nita. Bertie stopped by while I was over at the site poking around.”

  “Bertie’s on your list of suspects?” Tyler asked with a chuckle. “Might as well mark her off, pumpkin. She’s too busy watching her soap operas. No time for arson.”

  Nita laughed out loud. “That’s for sure. Between her soaps and her naps, she wouldn’t have a moment to spare. Certainly not long enough to torch a house like the Blankenships’. Trust me on that.” She tossed her brother a wink.

  “Very funny, you two. No, she’s not a suspect. Give me a little credit. I simply asked if she’d seen any strangers or kids hanging around the neighborhood. She couldn’t recall anything. Although, she flagged me down as I was leaving, saying she’d seen Jerry’s truck drive by quite often.”

  “I’ve seen him pass by too,” Tyler said. “He’s working on a house down the road. Makes sense he’d drive back and forth on his way there.”

  “Which I explained to Grant. But he seems to think everyone’s a suspect until proven innocent. Aunt Nita, why didn’t you warn me how stubborn he is? The man drives me nuts.”

  “Grant? He’s not stubborn. Doesn’t have a stubborn bone in his body. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Keri made a face at her but said nothing more about him. “Dad, in your heart of hearts, do you think Jerry would ever pull something like this to get even with you? Do you think he’s capable of such a thing?”

  Tyler finished a mouthful. “Jerry? No. He’s harmless. His bark is far worse than his bite. We’re still not on speaking terms, but that’s his choice, not mine.”

  “Well, he’s still downright rude to me whenever our paths cross in town,” Nita added. “I’m sorry for his losses, for the rough road he’s had, but that’s no excuse for his behavior. He needs to grow up and get over it.”

  Keri folded her napkin. “I have to say, Dad, I remember some pretty ugly arguments between you and Jerry when I was younger. First time I heard language like that.”

  “I never—”

  “I know. Not you, Dad. Him. He’s got quite a mouth when he’s tanked up.”

  “True. He deals with a lot of anger issues. Still does, from what I’m told. But that doesn’t make him an arsonist,” Tyler said. “You can cross him off your list, sweetheart.”

  “I guess. But Grant will want me to talk to him face to face. Any idea where I can find him?”

  “One of my guys told me he’s been in Portland for a few days. I’ll try to find out when he’s due back in town, if that would help.”

  “Speaking of Grant,” Nita interrupted. “I meant to tell you. It’s the oddest thing. His father keeps showing up. All over town. What’s that all about? Everybody knows Shep Dawson only comes to town about twice a year. His semi-annual grocery run. Suddenly he’s everywhere I turn. Has Grant mentioned anything about that to you, sweetie? I’m wondering if the old guy might be losing it.”

  Keri scraped the last of the chowder from her bowl. “No. He hasn’t mentioned it. Maybe Shep’s working on something in town on his days off.”

  “Yeah, or maybe he’s taking speech lessons,” Tyler teased. “You know, as in how-to-talk-to-people?”

  Keri smiled. “Maybe he enrolled in one of those adult education classes. Like How to Win Friends and Influence People. Might do him some good. Or . . .”

  Nita took the bait. “Or what?”

  “Or maybe he’s got a crush on someone in town. Maybe he’s sweet on a certain someone. You know, like a girlfriend?” She waggled her eyebrows at her aunt.

  Nita nailed her niece with a look. “Keri Nadia McMillan. You bite your tongue. Why, I wouldn’t give that old man the time of day if I was the last person on earth. He’s actually starting to get on my last nerve, if you want to know the truth. I almost wet myself today when he snuck up on me at the tree lot.”

  Tyler leaned over to his daughter. “Methinks she doth protest too much?”

  “Methinks ditto,” Keri added.

  Nita pushed her chair back, standing up. She grabbed their empty bowls. “I’ll hear none of that from the two of you. This is the thanks I get for making you a home cooked meal?”

  Tyler joined her by the sink, wrapping his arm over her shoulder. “Ah, we’re just kidding, Sis. Feels kinda good to have something to laugh about after everything that’s happened. Don’t you think?”

  She bent her knee sideways behind her, kicking his backside.

  “Ouch! What’s the matter, did we hit a little too close to home with our romantic musings?”

  Keri brought their empty glasses to the sink. “Methinks, methinks, methinks . . .”

  “Enough!” Nita tossed the hand towel on the counter and headed toward the front door. “I’ve got to go home and feed Muffy. At least she’ll treat me with a little respect.”

  The door slammed behind her.

  Father and daughter made eye contact then broke into unrestrained laughter.

  “After all these years . . .” Tyler chuckled. “Whodathunkit?”

  Keri watched her father, pleased to see him relaxed and smiling again. But in the blink of an eye, something changed. He winced, taking a deep breath then slowly blowing it out.

  “Dad?”

  He flexed his hand, open and shut, open and shut. Then he gasped, his face contorted with pain.

  “Dad! What’s wrong?” She rushed to his side, quickly placing her hand on his forehead. “You’re all clammy.”

  He pulled her hand off his head then wrapped it between his own hands. “Nothing, sweetheart. Probably just indigestion.”

  “Isn’t that what most people say right before they have a heart attack?”

  He closed his eyes, attempting a smile. “Very funny.”

  “I’m serious. Tell me what you’re feeling. Why did you flex your hand like that?”

  He pulled his left hand into a fist. “I don’t know. Just a reaction, I suppose. Stop worrying. I’m fine.”

  “But isn’t it the left arm that usually—”

  “Keri, I’m fine. How about pouring me another glass of iced tea?”

  She looked at him, studying the familiar creases in his face. There were several new ones, mostly carved by worry, she supposed. He didn’t look good. No matter what he said.

  She exhaled, getting him the cold drink. “When was the last time you had a check up?”

  “Well, let’s see, Nurse Nancy . . .”

  “Stop. Seriously, Dad, I’m worried about you. Didn’t anyone ever tell you stress can kill?”

  “Stress? What makes you think I’m under stress?”

  She handed him the glass and sat on the floor at the foot his leather recliner. Flashes of dread sparked through her. Images of her father on a gurney. A monitor beeping in a hospital room. Friends gathered in a cemetery. She swallowed hard, fighting off the unbidden fears.

  “Don’t tease. It’s nothing to joke about.” She took hold of his hand, leaning her cheek into his open palm. “You’re my only dad. I don’t want to lose you.”

  He stroked her hair. “I’m not going anywhere, pumpkin. I’ll always be here for you.”

  A tear broke free, rolling down her cheek and into his hand. He tipped her chin, turning her face toward him. “That’s a promise, okay? So no tears.”

  She sniffed, then lunged into his arms. “I love you, Dad.”

  “Love you too, sweetheart.”

  She clung to him for several moments. She leaned back when he began to talk.

  “I’ve tried really hard, but I know I haven’t been the best father.”

  “Stop. I won’t listen to that kind of talk.”

  He pushed a curl from her face. “You’re so much like your mother in so many ways. Always looking out for everyone but yourself. Taking everyone else’s problems to heart.” He sighed. “I miss her so much, Keri. And I grieve every day of my life that you never had the chance to know her.”

  “I know her, Dad. From the pictures. From all the memories you’ve shared with me through the years. Things
Uncle Rave used to tell me. And Aunt Nita. It’s not the same, but it’s all I’ve known. You’ve been the best father a girl could ever ask for. So lose the guilt. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “Is that so?” He squeezed her hand, his countenance growing serious again. “If we lose the business, how will we get you back to that fancy school of yours?”

  She pressed her palm against his cheek. “Stop. Don’t even think about that now. That will all work out. Eventually. There’s no law that says I have to graduate before I’m thirty. Forty, ye. But not thirty.”

  “Maybe not, but I don’t want to ruin your dreams any longer than I have to.”

  “You’re not ruining my dreams! So knock it off. It’s a delay. That’s all. Enough about school, okay?”

  He took a sip of his tea. “I’m just glad Grant could find some work for you. He’s a fine young man. You do a good job for him, okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  He tilted his head. “You could do worse, you know.”

  “What do you mean? A worse job?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  She pegged him with a scrutinized stare. “Don’t go there. One matchmaker in the family is enough. Don’t you dare give me double trouble. And for the record, it ain’t happening.”

  He didn’t answer, just smiled. A tired smile, but a smile nonetheless.

  Keri wiped the remaining tears from her face. “We’ll get through this, Dad. Don’t you worry about me. We’ll be okay.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  His cell phone rang as he mussed her hair. He checked the caller I.D. “I have no idea who this is.” He clicked to receive the call anyway. “This is Tyler McMillan.”

  He must have pressed speaker-phone. She could hear the anxious voice through the line. “Tyler, this is Grant Dawson. I tried to call Keri but it keeps going to voice mail.”

  She reached for her cell phone. Dead. She must have forgotten to charge it.

  “She’s right here—”

  “No, I don’t have time. Tyler, you and Keri need to get to the hospital. My dad’s been injured. There’s been another fire.”

  Chapter 9