Teacup Novellas 02 - Strike the Match

by Diane Moody

  Keri and her father rushed through the emergency room doors. They stopped at the desk, asking where they could find Grant. The receptionist said she’d let him know they were here.

  “Tyler! Keri! I came as soon as I heard!” Nita rushed to their side, unwrapping the knitted scarf from her neck. “Is it true? Was Shep blown out of the building?”

  “What?” Keri gasped. “Where did you hear that? He was blown from a building?”

  “There you are,” Grant called out, approaching them. “Thanks for coming.”

  Nita grabbed him in a bear hug. “Oh honey, how’s your daddy? Is he okay?”

  “We don’t know yet. He’s still unconscious.”

  Nita buried her head against his shoulder. “Oh, that dear old man!” Her shoulders shook as she began to sob. “I was so ugly and impatient with him today and all but shooed him away like nothing more than a pesky mosquito. And now he’s lying in there at death’s door.” Another sob.

  “Nita, we don’t know that,” Grant said, trying to calm her.

  Keri and her father exchanged glances at Nita’s unexpected reaction, along with a very surprised Grant Dawson. Grant held her at arm’s length. “Now Nita, why are you so—”

  “I’ll never forgive myself if he . . . if he should—”

  “What happened?” Keri interrupted, turning toward Grant. “Aunt Nita said he was blown from a building?”

  Grant raked his hand through his hair. “That’s right. There was a fire at the newspaper office. Bud said Dad placed a 911 call to report a small blaze in the back room near the press. Apparently there was some kind of explosion by the time Bill and his crew got there. They’re guessing the fire reached some of the chemicals in there. They found him lying in the grass several yards from the building.”

  Nita wailed, falling into her brother’s arms. Keri couldn’t figure out why she was carrying on to such an extreme, but there were too many other pressing questions. “What was Shep doing at your office this time of night?”

  Grant shook his head. “I have no idea. I’d left the office earlier, ran a couple of errands before heading out to his place. We were supposed to play some chess tonight. I assumed he was home. I was almost to the marina when I got the call from Bill.”

  “Oh my dear Lord.”

  All eyes turned to Nita.

  “He must have stayed at the tree lot,” she croaked.

  Grant placed a hand at her elbow. “What in the world was Dad doing at the tree lot?”

  Nita’s chin trembled, tears spilled down her cheeks. “It’s all my fault. He kept showing up, day after day. I never could get him to spill the beans, explain why he kept hanging around. Then, before I knew it, I heard myself inviting him to help out this year. You know, volunteer along with the rest of us selling trees.”

  “My dad?” Grant scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? He’s not a people person. That’s the last place he’d want to be.”

  The puzzle pieces suddenly fell in place in Keri’s mind. The time she’d caught Shep staring at Nita over his coffee mug that morning at Chandler’s. Nita mentioning how Shep kept showing up at the tree lot. Shep, who rarely ever came to town. Could it be those “romantic musings” she and her father had voiced earlier tonight at dinner had been right on the mark?

  Apparently so.

  Shep Dawson had a thing for Aunt Nita.

  What d’you know?

  “I know, Grant,” Nita whispered. “But he seemed very pleased I’d asked. It shocked me too. In fact, he was still there when I left tonight. I’d stopped by the lot after dinner to make sure things were okay. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. Not saying much, of course.” Her chin wobbled again. “He’s a man of few words, that father of yours.”

  Grant rubbed his face. “That’s an understatement. So you think he just happened to drive by the office on his way home and perhaps spotted the blaze?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Nita said before blowing her nose.

  “What has the doctor said?” Tyler asked.

  “Not much. Until Dad comes around, there’s not a lot they can do. Thankfully, he wasn’t burned. Bill seemed to think that explosion may have actually saved his life, blowing him clear of the fire. And believe it or not, he doesn’t seem to have any broken bones. Though I’m sure he’ll be awfully sore and bruised.”

  “Is there anything you need?” Keri asked. She had the strangest urge to give him a hug, even though it seemed totally inappropriate. He was her boss, after all. Still, she wished there was something she could do to ease the worry etched on his face.

  “Actually, there is. Would you mind checking back with Bill and see what he’s found out? His guys got the fire out relatively fast. Still, it occurs to me that two fires in less than two weeks in our little town . . . well, something stinks. And it’s not just the smoke.”

  Keri nodded. “Sure. I’ll run over to the station and talk to him.”

  He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “We need to narrow that list of yours. Help me find who did this, Keri.”

  Her heart pounded. Whether it was his nearness, the warmth of his breath on her ear, or the emotion in his request, she couldn’t be sure. Suddenly she embraced him, wishing she could take away his pain. “Go take care of your father. We’ll find whoever did this. I promise.”

  He pulled back, searching her eyes. Then he turned and slowly walked down the hall.

  “Well, sir . . .”

  “Dad!” Grant stifled the sob caught in his throat as relief flooded over him. He leaned over, hugging his father. “Thank God! Are you okay? You gave us quite a scare last night.”

  Shep struggled to swallow then looked around. “Hospital?”

  “Yes. Do you know how you got here? Do you remember what happened?”

  His father closed his eyes. For a moment, Grant thought he’d drifted back asleep.

  “Fire.”

  A second wave of relief fell over Grant. He’s cognizant. He’s okay. “Yes. There was a fire at the office.”

  Silence.

  “Dad, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “Don’t feel okay.”

  Grant smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You just need to take it easy for a while.”

  A page sounded out in the hall summoning assistance STAT.

  “Truck.”

  He could barely hear his father’s voice. “What’s that? Did you see a truck?”

  Shep nodded, his eyes still closed. “Dark out. Hard to see.”

  “Could you tell if it was a pickup? Or some kind of delivery van? Something bigger?”

  “Pickup. Dark.”

  Grant tried to think, tried to remember who drove pickups, but the information wouldn’t present itself. He’d almost lost his father. His only living relative. The investigation could wait. At least for now.

  Nita appeared at the door. “They told me I could come back for a few moments. Is that okay?” She looked beyond Grant to see Shep. “Oh Shep, you’re alive!” she whimpered, approaching the side of his bed. “You poor dear man. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Grant watched her lift his father’s bandaged hand to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss on it. He stretched for a better view of his dad, curious at his reaction. Shep grinned from ear to ear as if he’d just won the lottery.

  If I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it. Son of a gun.

  As Nita’s soft cries continued, he thought for sure Shep would say something.

  Not a word. He just lay there, like a star-struck teenager meeting his favorite movie star for the first time.

  “You okay, Nita?” Grant asked.

  She quickly composed herself, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’m fine, honey. I’m just so glad he’s all right.” Her shoulders slowly began to shudder again as she fell apart again.

  He watched as his father’s hand slowly reached for Nita’s. She looked down at him, obviously surprised by the gesture.

  But nowhere near
as surprised as Grant.

  Grant backed toward the door. “I think I’ll . . .” Words failed him as he watched Nita lean over and plant a long, gentle kiss on his father’s brow.

  He slipped out the door, mumbling. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be the one roaming the hall . . . in search of some electric shock . . . since I’m clearly the one here who’s delirious.”

  Chapter 10

  Keri stepped carefully through the debris. The office of the Waterford Weekly was a mess, but the damage was mostly contained to the back part of the old house. The press would need a proper burial, but better it than Shep. A chill raced down her back as she visualized Grant’s strange but kind old father looking so fragile in his hospital bed. She’d stopped by to check on him first thing this morning, relieved to find him out of the ER, moved to his own room.

  She’d hoped for a chance to talk to Grant, but was surprised instead to find her aunt at Shep’s bedside. Any doubts she may have had about a budding romance between those two had immediately been laid to rest. She couldn’t help the smile that kept tugging at her mouth as she listened to her aunt update her on Shep’s progress. Nita kept patting his hand, stroking his wayward hair as she told Keri about the doctor’s visit earlier in the morning.

  “Shep’s gonna be just fine. Another couple days of observation here, then he can go home. I told Dr. Richards we’d all be sure he got plenty of TLC to help him recover.” She looked back at Grant’s father. “Isn’t that right, Shep?”

  His chin seemed to disappear under the bushy mustache but it was plain as day he was smiling. He dipped his head in a nod of affirmation, his eyes still glued to Nita.

  Keri chuckled, thinking about the warm chemistry between the two of them and how pleased she was they’d found a second chance at romance.

  Or who knows. Maybe even something more.

  “Keri, over here,” Grant called, waving her over to the back steps.

  “Is it okay for me to walk through this?”

  “No problem. This time around, the insurance guys were close by. As you know all too well, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid I do. But I’m glad you didn’t have to wait as long as we did. What did they determine?”

  “This was an easy one. A clear case of arson. Same as the cabin. Our arsonist isn’t very imaginative. Kerosene seems to be his weapon of choice.”

  She walked up the steps looking at the chaos strewn across the yard. As she made her final step onto the back porch, his arm circled her waist, drawing her near. “Thanks, Keri.”

  “For what?”

  He rested his chin on her head. “For just being here. For me. For Dad. I can’t believe how close I came to losing him.” He chuckled. “He’s such a private man. It’s hard to feel close to him. Always has been. I mean, I know he loves me. I never doubted that. We really are close in our own strange way. But I never heard him say the words. It’s just his way. Still, last night made me realize how much I desperately love him and always have. I think I needed to know that. Just wish it hadn’t been this way.”

  She lifted her eyes to look into those baby blues. “I just stopped by the hospital to see him. He looks great. I can’t believe he escaped with so few injuries. Not a burn on his body.”

  He turned, taking hold of her elbow as he directed her into the damaged office. “Watch your step,” he warned. “It’s truly a miracle. Not a doubt in my mind God was watching over him. How else can you explain it?”

  “Maybe, but that same logic flies in the face of innocent people who get hurt or badly burned or killed every day.” Where did that come from? The words had raced out of her mouth before she even thought them.

  He stopped short, turning to face her. A flicker of sadness passed through his eyes. “True. I suppose. One of these days, I hope we can talk through our differing views of faith.” He pushed his hair off his forehead. “But for now, we’ve got work to do.”

  The front office had sustained only minimal damage; he’d obviously finished putting most of the room back in order. He grabbed a chair for Keri then leaned against the edge of his large vintage desk. She noticed a box with some kind of strange foreign postage sitting on his desk. The return address looked Russian but she couldn’t be sure since she was reading upside down. He must have seen her staring at it and turned to following her gaze. He quickly shoved the small box behind him.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing. Not a thing. Just something . . .” He moved behind his desk and deposited the box in a lower desk drawer. When he stood back up, his face was flushed.

  “Grant, what was—”

  “So have you talked to Bill?” he asked, taking his place in front of the desk again, his face still blushing.

  What was that all about?

  She shook it off, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. “After I left the hospital last night, I went to see him,” Keri said. “He’s extremely concerned about these fires.”

  “I’m sure he is. We all are.”

  “He thinks we have a serious danger lurking around town. Of course, I wasn’t surprised at his sense of urgency to get to the bottom of this. We tossed around some ideas. Talked about some possible suspects—”

  “Any conclusions?”

  She exhaled slowly. “Nothing specific. I’m going to see if I can find Zack after I leave here. I’d like to have a little chat with him today. I’d also like to talk to a couple of his so-called alibis.”

  “Be careful, Keri. That kid is trouble.”

  “I know. I’ll be okay.” She twisted her neck from side to side, feeling it pop. “I’ve also got a call into Jerry’s office, trying to find out if he’s back in town. I thought I saw his truck over on Martin Lane, but I can’t be sure. If he’s in town, I want a face-to-face with him.”

  “Maybe I should come along. Something about all this . . . I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  An awkward silence fell between them. She looked down, toying with her mittens.

  “Wait,” he started. “Did you say you thought you saw his truck?”

  “Yeah. He drives a black Dodge Ram. Why do you ask?”

  He was silent. She could see the wheels turning in his mind.

  “Because the only thing Dad saw last night was a dark pickup. He noticed it turning the corner right before he saw the glow of the fire in the window back there.” He tipped his head in the direction of the press room.

  Their eyes met, the questions obvious.

  “I’ll make sure I talk to Jerry today. It’s a small town. I’ll find him.”

  “Good idea. Sure you don’t need me to tag along?”

  She stood, pulling on her mittens. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ve known Jerry my whole life, Grant. Even if he’s involved in this somehow, he’d never do anything to harm me.”

  “Never say never,” he added, squeezing her shoulder.

  “I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, you should clean this place. It’s a pig’s sty,” she teased.

  “Yes, ma’am. Anything else you’d like me to do?”

  She started out the door then turned back. “Yeah. Find out what’s going on with your dad and my aunt. I’m a little curious about all that.”

  He laughed. “You and me both, Keri. You and me both.”

  Keri turned off Main Street, headed toward The Bayside, a bar on the outskirts of town. Bud had told her Zack could be found there just about any time day or night. Whenever he wasn’t spray-painting shopping carts or sidewalks, or stealing cigarettes, that is. She’d been in the honky-tonk only a couple of times, both times looking for some of her dad’s crew late on Friday afternoons. It was a favorite hangout for local construction workers. Bud had told her Zack spent his time there bragging to the other regulars about his many varied “accomplishments,” in between video games, a round of pool, and an occasional attempt at darts.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in. As I live and breathe, it’s Waterford Bay’s little miss ray of sunshi
ne.”

  It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of The Bayside, but Keri would know that voice anywhere. The creepiness factor notwithstanding, she was relieved to know she wouldn’t have to spend all day trying to find the town’s biggest loser. Just as Bud had predicted, Zack Clayton was holding court in his home away from home. Or maybe it is his home. Keri found the thought fitting somehow.

  “Hey Zack. How’s it going?” she asked, making her way toward him across the sticky floor. The air was thick with smoke, one of the only establishments in town that still allowed smoking under some ridiculous city ordinance. Of course it wasn’t just the stench of stale cigarette smoke that gagged her. Keri had no doubt the flavors of fried catfish, chicken, and French Fries were indistinguishable once they came out of the oil in the Bayside’s deep fryer. She guessed the oil hadn’t been changed in a good six months. Or more.

  But it was the reek of body odor that made her want to turn and leave. The closer she got to Zack, the worse it got. Evidently, his busy schedule didn’t allow for personal hygiene. She tried to breathe through her mouth. Either that or hurl on his filthy boots.

  “Well, a whole heckuva lot better now that you stopped by.” He set down his near-empty mug of beer, and turned on the stool to give her his full attention. “What brings you here, missy? I thought you was off at some fancy college back east? Yet here you are, slumming with the boys back home.”

  Most likely he thought his smile was appealing, but something about the stained teeth and dirty hair just ruined the whole magic for Keri. And there was that nasty “aroma” still wafting through the air.

  “Zack, Bud tells me he talked to you about that fire out at the Blankenship place.”

  He let out a loud whoop of a holler and slammed his palm flat on the bar. “Not you too, little missy? I told that stupid cop I wasn’t anywhere near that place that night!” He grabbed his beer, finishing it with a loud belch. “And that’s all I got to say about that.”

  She tried to act nonchalant. “Well, sure, Zack. He told me that. I was just wondering if you’d heard anything. Like maybe somebody told you something or saw something. Being as how you weren’t anywhere near that place that night.”