by Lyn Cote
“Too bad we don’t have any eyewitnesses,” Smith commented. “Without one, there’s no way to limit the suspects or even come up with a sensible list.”
Carter agreed silently. It was all a mishmash of grudges and guesses. If only Florence had put on her glasses before she looked out to see who was breaking glass bottles in the alley!
“And what has put an abrupt stop to the fires?” Smith asked. “Five fires in a little over four weeks and now four weeks without another. What sense does that make?”
“It makes no sense to me.” Carter rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “The only thing that linked the fires is the pennies, but none were found at the Fourth of July carnival.”
“Maybe the fires were set by someone who had come as a tourist and spent a month here, setting fires, and then just went home?” Smith offered.
Carter shook his head. “I find that impossible to believe.”
Smith made a sound of disgust, snapped his notebook shut, and rose. “You’ve done everything by the book. Let us know if you get number six.”
Carter rose to shake hands. “Will do. But I hope there won’t be a number six.” Was the rash of fires over or not? Was there a grand finale looming ahead?
A tap on his office door and then Tom leaned in. “Have time to talk? Oh, sorry.”
“Come on in.” Out of habit, Carter laid his legal pad facedown over the crime scene reports. “This is Roger Smith from the Wisconsin fire marshal’s office. He’s just leaving for Madison. My stepfather, Tom Robson.”
Smith acknowledged Tom with a curt nod. “Sorry it took us so long to get up here.” Smith repeated the same line he’d said when he’d arrived four hours ago, and then departed. Tom entered and sat in the chair on the other side of Carter’s desk. He declined Carter’s offer of coffee. “I won’t beat around the bush, Son.”
Tom’s calling him son always lifted Carter’s spirits—no matter what the situation. And after four hours of grilling by Smith, he felt better. His stepdad still looked battered and reddened from the fire. Lord, how can I help Tom? I owe him so much.
“Old Bilson called me and asked me to come and talk things over with you informally. He said if he came to your office in person, it would be all over town by suppertime. And the rumor mill would have a heyday.”
“What did our esteemed village chairman want to discuss with me?” Carter asked, already guessing the reason.
“The fires, of course. And Hal Ramsdel’s petition to have you recalled.”
“I figured.” Carter nodded, sour acid moving up his throat. “Okay, what else does Bilson want to warn me about that I already know?”
“Ramsdel took the effort to get everything about the petition done according to law. He’s been making the rounds of local people and the summer people who’ve retired up here and can vote.”
“I take it he’s getting signatures?” Carter picked up his ballpoint pen and jabbed his blotter.
“Well, right after the fire on the Fourth, he got a few locals to sign. They were worried this was going to go on all summer and affect their businesses.”
“I see.” Carter began making Xs on his blotter with deep slashing strokes.
“But when one, two, and now four weeks passed with no further fires, the local people have decided that it must have been some kind of fluke,” Tom said. “Or done by someone not from around here—”
“I thought of that, but that doesn’t jibe with the targets,” Carter objected. “Why would a stranger target Lois, Shirley, and you?” Carter tossed the pen down.
“Well, it hasn’t gone unnoticed that Doyle Keski quit his job and took off again. That coincided with the fires stopping. People around here think he had good motives to set the fires, motives that would make sense to someone like Doyle.” Tom shook his head. “He hates Shirley for taking in Chad, and he was mad about Chad having to work for Lois. He resents my relationship with Chad, too.”
“That all makes sense, but I don’t have any evidence to link Doyle with any one of the fires, let alone all of them.”
“I know. But Doyle’s skipped and the fires have stopped. People have made the connection between the two—right or wrong.” Tom shrugged.
“So people are losing interest in the petition?” Carter tried to hold back any flicker of relief.
Tom propped his elbows on the chair arms. “Some. Some not. Bilson seems to think Ramsdel has gotten quite a few retirees to sign the petition. People who don’t know you.”
And I’m sure Hal’s given them his view of my character, Carter added silently.
“Anyway, Bilson expects Ramsdel to bring the matter up at the August county board meeting tomorrow night.” Tom stared at Carter.
“Thank Bilson for the warning. But this won’t be over until I solve the fires or we see they’ve ended for good.”
“One other thing, Son. Some people heard about Shirley finding firecrackers in Chad’s room—”
“How did they hear about that?” Carter sat up straighter. “Shirley didn’t tell anyone, did she?”
“I think that someone might have overheard you talking to Chad that morning you took him to breakfast.”
“Overheard me?” Carter shoved his chair backwards. “I don’t see how anyone could have heard a thing I said to Chad. I was talking very low, and you know how noisy Trina’s is in the morning.”
Tom shook his head. “Anyway, if Doyle hadn’t left town and the fires hadn’t stopped, you would have gotten flack for playing favorites. A lot of people don’t think Chad will be able to break free of the sad pattern set by his father and grandfather. You know, ‘the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree’ bit.”
The injustice of this hit Carter and his mouth twisted down. “Just like they thought about me when I was Chad’s age?”
Tom nodded, frowning. “Unfortunately, yes. In fact, Bilson had the nerve to say that people think you probably wanted to shield Chad because he’s going the same way you did at that age.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that.” With effort, Carter kept his voice even. He sincerely hoped Chad wouldn’t still be living down his young mistakes twenty years from now. “I want to see Chad break the chain and be...free, free to have a good life.” Carter paused and changed topics. “How is your insurance claim going?”
“It’s going. Don’t worry about it. You’ve got enough on your plate.” Tom rose and rested a hand on Carter’s shoulder. “I know you’re doing your best, Son. I’ll be going now. I conveyed to you what Bilson asked me to and I know you have work to do.” He turned toward the door.
Carter blurted out, “Do you think this reformed act of Ramsdel’s is real?”
Tom grimaced. “Obviously, you don’t. I don’t know what to think of it. But it really doesn’t ring true. Hal needs God and doesn’t realize that. I...” Tom closed his lips. “Watch your back, Son. That’s my advice.”
“I will, Tom. I will.” Carter squeezed Tom’s hand on his shoulder and then let it go.
Tom waved and left, closing the door behind him.
Carter turned his legal pad over and gave a sound of disgust. Lord, I’m at a total loss as to who’s responsible for these fires. Where do I go from here? But he’d been muttering this prayer for weeks without a hint of inspiration.
He wanted the fires to be over, but what if he never did find out who had set them? That fate seemed almost as bad as having fire number six occur tomorrow and right here in his office. He pushed himself to his feet. He’d put this out of his mind and get on with the day.
Then a pleasant thought fought its way to the front of the line. He had a date to walk the beach with Audra tonight. Ever since their first “escape,” every night after she closed up, he’d stopped by and they spent some time together. They didn’t walk the beach for very long, because Audra had to rise so early. But those few moments with Audra were as precious as gold and diamonds to him. More precious.
THAT AFTERNOON, JUST before four o’clock, Audra walk
ed downstairs in her Victorian, yawning a bit from her brief afternoon nap on an air mattress she’d put upstairs. She walked into her kitchen, washed her hands, and checked the dough machines to see how the pizza dough looked. Great. Ready to start another evening’s pizza trade, she slipped an apron over her head and unlocked the rear Dutch door.
Usually Brent would be lounging at the door when she opened up. But not today. She glanced down the alley right and then left. Brent wasn’t in sight. She shrugged and began going through the routine, first preheating the two ovens. Soon the phone was ringing with customers ordering pizzas, but there was still no Brent.
Finally, at quarter to five, after looking up and down the alley again, Audra called her uncle’s home. No answer. She left a message on the machine, asking Brent to come to work right away. What do I do now? I can’t do the pizza trade by myself.
The phone rang again, but it wasn’t Brent with an excuse and apology. Instead, she wrote down another pizza order. The mounting list of orders made the decision easy for her. She picked up the phone and asked Shirley to send Chad over ASAP.
Within just a few minutes, she heard a bicycle pull up beyond the Dutch door and then Chad strolled inside. “What’s up?”
“Brent didn’t show.” Audra gave Chad a grateful look. “Wash up and get over here so I can show you how to work the dough for pizzas. Please.”
Chad obeyed and was soon tossing pizza dough.
“That’s good. You’re really learning how to work with dough,” Audra commented. “You should think about food service as a career.”
Chad colored with pleased embarrassment, but made no reply.
Audra let herself sigh with relief. She wouldn’t obsess about Brent. He was probably just off having fun somewhere and lost track of time. The phone rang again, and as she jotted down yet another order, she let go of the problem of where Brent was.
Nearly two hours later, Audra was just taking payment for three pizzas when she heard a squeal of tires and a commotion in her backyard. She thanked the customer, who lifted his three boxed pizzas and stepped away. Audra looked out the door and saw her uncle dragging Brent by the collar toward her. The customer made a hurried retreat, detouring around Hal. Audra envied him.
Another family storm was on her doorstep. Her uncle was red in the face and Brent was snarling at him. She glanced back at Chad. “Don’t let Brent get to you. Please,” she said under her breath. She then turned to face her family.
“Audra, I was late getting home,” her uncle declared. “After I listened to the answering machine, I went upstairs and”—he shook Brent by the shoulder—“found this one playing computer games!”
Brent wrenched free. “I told you I’m quitting—”
“No, you’re—”
Audra spoke over both of them—loudly, firmly, and with authority. “This is a place of business. I can’t have a family fight taking place here with customers coming and going.” She surprised them both into silence. They stared at her. “Now, Brent, why are you quitting? Weren’t you going to work until the tenth?”
Her uncle started to reply, but she held up a hand like a referee. “Brent?”
“Mom called and said she’s had a change in schedule and wants me to come early to visit her. She’s going to drive up and get me this Saturday, so I can have more time with her back at home where I belong.”
“You have an obligation to finish the summer rush season with Audra,” Hal insisted.
“But if Aunt Mary wants Brent—” Audra cut in.
“Don’t call her that,” Hal barked. “Mary isn’t your aunt anymore—”
“But if Aunt Mary,” Audra persisted, “wants Brent with her, I’ll just find someone else—”
“I won’t let her change the court’s decision. She has Brent for two weeks in the summer and one weekend a month during the school year. That’s what she agreed to—”
“Uncle Hal.” Audra tried to interrupt him, stop him from doing further damage to his relationship with his son.
He talked over Audra. “Mary took me to the cleaners, but I told her, you can’t have everything. If you make me sell everything now when the market’s so bad, I get Brent. Not you—”
Brent turned and charged off into the twilight.
“Brent!” Audra called after him.
“Go ahead and run,” Hal bellowed. “I’m not letting her change our agreement! If she’d wanted you more than the money, she should have said so in court!”
For a split second, Audra wanted to grab Hal and shake him. How could he be so insensitive, especially humiliating Brent in front of Chad? She drew in a deep breath. “You shouldn’t have said that to Brent,” she said, bridling. “Whatever Aunt Mary’s faults are, Brent is her son and he loves her.”
“The divorce was all her fault—”
“Yeah,” Chad spoke up from behind Audra. “Right. Not your fault at all. Nothing ever is.”
Hal glared at Chad and then called the teen several names. Chad yelled back that Hal should shut his face.
“Uncle Hal—” Audra began, drawing herself up for a fight.
Hal swung away from her, still cursing and raging. Audra stepped away from the Dutch door. Her stomach shook.
“Hey, don’t let that old man upset you,” Chad said sympathetically.
She pulled out a stool and sat down. Her heart pounded and she felt a little sick. “Why doesn’t he understand? Why doesn’t he show any concern for Brent’s feelings? And what makes him think he has the right to call you those terrible names?”
Chad came over, wiping his hands on his apron, and patted her back awkwardly. “Hey, don’t let it get you down. I’ve been called worse. And by my old man, too.”
The phone rang, beckoning her. Audra nodded up at Chad, wishing she could somehow make up for his father. But she could do very little. She squeezed his doughy hand. “Thanks for helping out.” Then taking a deep breath, she reached for the ringing phone.
“Hey, no problem. I can use the money.” He cast another dark glance at the Dutch door. “And they say my dad’s a loser. Sheesh.”
Audra put it all aside and greeted her customer over the phone. Even as she automatically took the order, her mind drifted off to Carter. He was coming again this evening. His late-night visits had become her reward at the end of each day. What a comfort to have him to talk to, to share her concerns. She’d only had Shirley before. Now I have Carter. This thought lifted her and terrified her at the same time. It was almost too good to be true.
She hung up and glanced at the clock. It was seven-thirty. Only a few more hours and he’d be here. Her lips tingled in anticipation. Only two hours and he’ll be kissing me hello. She blushed and hoped Chad didn’t notice.
A LITTLE AFTER NINE-fifteen, Chad finished washing his hands at the sink.
From behind him, Audra patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming right away. I couldn’t have handled everything on my own.”
“No problem. Should I come tomorrow at four again?”
Audra bit her lower lip. “Yes, if Brent shows, I’ll send you home, but I’ll pay you for an hour’s time for coming, okay?”
“Hey, you don’t have to pay me just to bike down a few blocks to find out if you need me.”
Audra squeezed his shoulder. “‘A workman is worthy of his hire.’”
“What?”
“It’s from the Bible. It means a person who works should be respected and paid.”
“It says that in the Bible?” Chad lifted his eyebrows. “It talks about getting paid?”
Audra nodded.
“Tom and Shirley are really into the God thing, aren’t they?” Chad commented offhandedly.
She grinned. “Yes, and aren’t we lucky that they are?”
This seemed to hit Chad. He stared at her a moment before replying, “I guess.”
“You did a good job tonight.”
Chad brushed off her compliment with a shrug and then exited through the Dutch door.
Audra heard Carter asking the question.
“Audra will fill you in. What’re you doing here?” Chad asked slyly.
“None of your business.”
Chad chuckled and Carter stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
Without hesitation, Audra went to him and twined her arms around his neck. “Carter, I—”
He interrupted her with a kiss.
She didn’t mind his interruption at all. When he finally released her, her body bubbled with joy. Nothing was wrong when Carter was with her. A faint warning persisted, whispering through her. But she turned away from it.
Carter set a bulging white bag on the counter. “Hope you’re in the mood for burgers tonight.”
The aroma of burgers with grilled onions, her favorite, wafted to her. “Mmm, I hope you got me fries, too.” She sat down, eager as a little girl. “I’m starving and I can’t face another pizza.”
He chuckled and sat down on the stool next to hers. They held hands and he said grace. Afterward he kissed her hand and then pulled a french fry from the bag and fed it to her.
She giggled. For a few moments, they ate in silence. Audra reveled in the wonderful feeling of being with this special man. I’m not alone anymore.
Then he asked, “Now tell me why Chad was here and Brent wasn’t.”
Audra’s mood lowered a fraction. She sighed. “My uncle is such a—”
“Jerk?” Carter offered.
“I’m sorry, but yes.” She went on to fill Carter in on the scene that had taken place earlier. He gave her his full attention. “Why doesn’t my uncle realize how much damage he’s doing to his son, to his relationship with him?”
“He’s blind to his own faults.” Carter set down his burger.
Even as she talked, she pored over his face, noting the laugh lines around his eyes and the deep tan of his face and neck, even the faint scar above his eyebrow.
