Precarious Summer

by Lyn Cote

  Audra pictured her uncle, her two ex-aunts, Brent, and then finally Sarah. “I was so little when Sarah died, just about Evie’s age. Did he act the same way with her?” She caught herself. Should she have brought Sarah up?

  Carter’s mouth turned down. He looked away as if he were peering into the past. “I didn’t see them together much—your uncle and Sarah. But she didn’t have anything good to say about him.” Carter shook his head. “In any event, the crowd we were running with at the time—none of the kids were happy with their parents. Including me. I don’t know how Tom went on loving me anyway.” Carter fell silent.

  To comfort him, Audra ran her hand up his arm, feeling the latent power there. “I’ve been praying that my uncle would wake up before it’s too late. Before he alienates his son completely.”

  Carter lifted her hand from his short sleeve and held it. “He’s in a lot of pain himself and he isn’t letting God shine truth into his life. He’s blundering around in the dark, destroying relationships, causing pain. I know how that feels myself. Bad. Very bad. Did you ever ask your mother about why she visited him on the Fourth?”

  “Yes. She said she’d received a call from a longtime neighbor who told her exactly how Hal had behaved at the carnival.”

  “So?”

  “So she went over there and told him if he had to act ‘the boorish lout’ that he should do it in private.” Audra paused. “She threatened to call his ex-wife and tell her how Hal was treating Brent and encourage her to challenge the custody agreement.”

  Carter whistled. “Whoa. Your mother goes right for the throat, I see.”

  “I’m a little proud of her for defending Brent.” Audra felt a smile take over her mouth.

  Carter nodded. “I think the petition drive added to his reformed behavior. He wouldn’t be able to get any signatures if he continued acting like a raving lunatic.”

  “Don’t worry about that stupid petition. Or the board meeting coming up.” She leaned forward and as naturally as it was with Evie, she kissed him.

  He held her face gently in his hands and returned her kiss with dividends and interest. She longed to tell everyone that Carter cared for her. But so far it was all too special, too deep to put into words.

  When the kiss ended, he stood. “Let’s get busy filling the bread machines for the morning’s baking. You look beat, and I’m taking you straight home to your bed.”

  She rose and, in spite of a long day, she felt as if she could pirouette around the room with joy. Thank You, Lord, for this wonderful man. Bless our love and hold back the evil that surrounds us. She didn’t know why she’d added the final phrase. The fires had ended over a month ago. Everything would settle down now. Please, Lord.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, Audra unlocked the back door of her Victorian and switched on the bright kitchen lights. The yeasty scent of risen dough greeted her. Another day of baking sweet breads and brewing coffees. She blinked, still longing for the warm bed she’d left. She shuffled over to the hooks and took down a fresh apron. Her hands were healed, but Chad still worked the morning bake with her. She’d hoped to find him here, waiting for her. But no.

  Then anxiety nipped her again. Why couldn’t anything just go smoothly this summer? Tonight was the county board meeting. And on top of that she had a new, or really a recurring, problem. Where are you, Chad? And should I call Shirley or Carter?

  Earlier, on her way down the stairs from her bedroom, she’d knocked on Chad’s door as usual. When she didn’t get a reply, she knocked again. Thinking he might have overslept, she’d cautiously opened the door. Chad’s bed was empty. And no one was in the second-story bathroom or in Shirley’s peaceful kitchen. Had Chad run away again? But why? Except for the nasty scene last night her uncle created, he had settled down and steered well clear of trouble all of July.

  Now Audra paused by her phone. It was only a little after four o’clock, a terrible time to wake Shirley, who worked normal hours. She looked around her spotless kitchen and muttered, “Chad, where are you? You know I need you.”

  Then in the distance, the fire siren, summoning the volunteer firefighters to the firehouse for duty, sounded. Audra’s breath caught in her throat. She raced out into the alley and looked around. She saw it then—smoke billowing farther down, a block from the wharf. She ran the length of the alley and out onto the cross street.

  A sheriff’s Jeep came up abreast of her. She glanced over to see if it was Carter. It was Trish Franklin, and she had Chad in the back seat behind the grill. Chad? Another muffled boom and Audra sprinted toward the fire. What if someone needed help?

  She realized then that the storefront on fire was Hal’s insurance agency. That stopped her cold. Images from Tom’s fire flashed back into her mind with horrifying clarity. A scream tried to force its way up her throat. She pressed it down.

  Not her uncle’s office. No. It might trip him over the edge. Unable to stop herself, Audra began running again, though she was sure no one would be at the office this early. She was forced to stop well away from the fire. Heat barreled from the building. She stood there helplessly, watching flames devour the front of the neat, white-frame agency. Smoke billowed, mounting against the pewter predawn sky.

  Finally, the blaring fire engine arrived. The crew in their bright yellow-striped outfits glimmered in the gloom. Trish came and stood beside her. Florence, Wilma, and other neighbors began streaming up the street, gathering around Audra and Trish. Wilma pulled out a cell phone and called Audra’s uncle.

  Audra wanted to shout, “No, don’t call him!”

  But of course, her uncle had to be notified. The thought of being here when he arrived impacted her stomach like a balled fist. She wrapped one arm around her waist as if that would stop the aching inside her. She wanted to run away and hide. But she couldn’t leave; the fire wouldn’t release her.

  The firefighters began to make progress. The smoke still billowed but water hissed as it extinguished the flames. The fire was nearly out.

  She heard another siren, and Carter’s Jeep raced up the street and rocked to a halt. Leaping out, he jogged toward Trish, looking very much as if he’d jumped out of bed and scrambled into his clothes. “What’s up, Trish?”

  Before she could answer, another car zoomed up. Uncle Hal’s car. And then he was charging forward.

  “My office!” he bellowed. “All my records! My new furniture!” He stamped his foot like an angry child and cursed.

  The audience watched him with a combination of horrified interest, sympathy, and disapproval. Desperately hoping to defuse the situation, Audra took a few steps toward Hal.

  CARTER STOPPED AUDRA with a warning hand on her arm. He didn’t want Audra in between Ramsdel and him.

  Red-faced, Hal glanced over and then headed straight for Carter.

  “Why is Chad in the deputy sheriff’s Jeep?” Florence shrilled over all the noise.

  All eyes along with Carter’s turned to Florence and then to Trish’s vehicle. That’s all he needed—Florence pointing out Chad to Hal. Couldn’t the woman ever keep her mouth shut?

  “Caught in the act!” Hal boomed. “I told you it was that lousy, good-for-nothing Keski kid!”

  Trying to ignore him, Carter turned to Trish. Another fire. Another failure. “Why do you have Chad in the car?”

  Trish looked unhappy. “I found him about ten minutes ago just entering the alley from behind Mr. Ramsdel’s agency.”

  “I told you!” Hal shouted, getting into Carter’s face.

  Some of Ramsdel’s spit hit Carter’s cheek. The urge to shove him away flamed through Carter. “Did Chad,” Carter asked, gripping the slippery threads of self-restraint, “have any incendiary items on his person?”

  “No, but”—Trish scowled—“he did smell of an inhalant. I thought he might have been using spray paint—”

  “Well, you thought wrong!” Hal bawled. “I want that kid arrested and charged! He’s a public menace.”

 
Clenching his hands at his sides, Carter tried to step away.

  Hal jabbed his forefinger into Carter’s chest, stopping him. “Why anyone thought a lowlife like you should be sheriff, I’ll never know! And keep away from my niece!” Hal added a vulgar description of what he declared was all Carter wanted from Audra. “That’s all you wanted from my Sarah!”

  Carter’s self-control split wide-open. “Shut your mouth! Don’t you dare talk about Audra that way. And don’t blame me for your sins! Sarah wouldn’t be dead today if you’d been a better father! Sarah was no innocent when I met her.”

  Hal threw a punch just as Audra leaped between them. “Stop!”

  Hal’s fist clipped the side of Audra’s jaw.

  Carter pushed her out of harm’s way. She stumbled and fell.

  There was an appalled silence. Ramsdel appeared to realize what he’d done. He shouted at Carter, “This is all your fault!” He charged back to his car and tore off, tires screeching.

  Horror at the words he’d blurted out doused Carter’s rage. Helping Audra up, he read disapproval and shock in her face. She turned away from him. Florence came forward and put her arms around her.

  Head down, Carter turned away, hurried toward the fire chief. He was angry with himself. How could he have forgotten himself and behaved this way in front of her, in front of God? The nasty truth about Sarah he’d held back for years had finally flown out of his mouth. Would Audra ever forgive him? Should she?

  NEARLY TWO HOURS LATER, Carter sat behind his desk and eyed Chad, Shirley, and Tom sitting across from him. The three faces looked back at him—Chad defiant, Tom apprehensive, Shirley tearful. Would Chad have an explanation, a satisfactory one, for being at Ramsdel’s this morning or not?

  Carter didn’t want to question Chad, but he had no choice. Why had Chad put himself right in Hal’s path? Carter’s conscience snapped at him, Look who’s talking.

  A spasm made Carter’s right eyelid jump with nerves. “Okay, Chad,” Carter started, “Deputy Franklin said she smelled the odor of an inhalant on your clothing, but no trace of your graffiti that we could see remained on the agency.”

  “’Cause it burned off!”

  “Where did you discard the cans?” Carter asked. Even his bones felt heavier, weighed down.

  “I emptied a neon orange can. I wiped it in the bushes to get off the paint and then with my shirttail so there wouldn’t be any fingerprints. Then I tossed it on the agency doorstep.” Chad looked up truculently. “I’m smart enough not to keep the can on me after I’d done what I came to do.”

  “Tell me why you were at Ramsdel’s this morning vandalizing instead of safely working at Audra’s?”

  “Why are you bothering to even question me? Everybody’s got me charged and convicted already. I hate this lousy little town.” Chad swore.

  Chad reminded Carter so much of himself as a teen. But have I come as far as I thought? Not today.

  Tom put a hand on Chad’s shoulder. “Stop. Things are bad enough without you adding to it. Now answer Carter. He’ll listen to you. He’ll give you a fair hearing.”

  Maybe I have been unwilling to consider Chad as the guilty party. Carter’s eyelid twitched again. Maybe I want him to be innocent. But maybe he isn’t.

  Chad pulled away from Tom’s hand. He lowered his eyes. “I spray-painted the front of that jerk’s office. That’s all. I didn’t start no fire, but no one’s going to believe that, and you know it.”

  How could you be that stupid, Chad, after everything that’s happened this summer? “Why did you spray-paint the agency?” Carter picked up a paper clip and squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger instead of aiming an accusing finger in Chad’s face.

  Chad bristled. “That jerk called me names last night when I was working with Audra.” He looked up, rebellious again. “My dad told me, ‘Never let anybody bad-mouth you. Never let them get away with it, or no one will ever respect you.’”

  Carter tossed down the paper clip. And, of course, you can see how successful your father’s been at winning respect.

  “Hey, Sheriff, you stood up for yourself this morning when that jerk dissed you,” Chad pointed out sullenly.

  Carter felt his neck and then his face burn. Lord, I’d give anything to take back the words, the anger. But that wasn’t how it worked. Words spoken could not be recalled.

  “Don’t imitate my bad example. I was out of line,” Carter admitted in a harsh voice that scored his throat. He avoided looking at his stepfather. “Chad, don’t you see that you’ve merely lived up to everyone’s low expectations? And why? Because Ramsdel is rude and insensitive? Was that a good reason?”

  Each word Carter said to Chad turned back to sting him. Ramsdel had succeeded in getting to Carter, triggering him to revert to his former immature, unredeemed self.

  As to Chad’s account of what he’d been doing at Ramsdel’s this morning, it could have happened just as he’d said. On the other hand, it could be a clever cover story. Carter closed his eyes, praying for wisdom. When he looked up, he saw the appeal in Shirley’s eyes, heart-wrenching understanding in Tom’s, and the tissue-paper-thin bravado in Chad’s. Fortunately, stupidity was not a crime. “Chad, I’m releasing you into Shirley’s custody while we investigate this fire. Shirley, you need to accompany Chad whenever he leaves the house.”

  “You’re not charging me?” Chad gawked at him.

  “No. I can connect you to the scene but not to the fire. As of yet. I’ll spend the day sifting through the crime scene, and if I don’t find anything to connect you to the fire, I’ll charge you with vandalism.”

  “But hey, if the fire already burned up the graffiti and the can, there isn’t any evidence that I did any vandalism.”

  Tom spoke up. “Let’s get this straight right now, Chad. We won’t let anyone get away with charging you for something you didn’t do. But if you went to Mr. Ramsdel’s business and spray-painted it, you have to pay for that wrongdoing. No matter what the provocation—a good man, a reasonable man doesn’t strike back.”

  Tom’s words scalded like acid, etching Carter’s heart with regret. Lord, forgive me. Why did I ever think I had the temperament to be the sheriff of this county in the first place? I didn’t conduct myself in a professional manner this morning. I acted just like Ramsdel. Worse of himself, Carter could not say.

  Shirley rose, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “Thank you, Carter.” The three of them filed out and Carter sat down again.

  He stared at his desk blotter and saw Audra’s face there—shocked and disapproving. Carter closed his eyes, trying to blot out the image. But it persisted in his mind’s eye. His mind returned to this morning’s arson, the sixth arson this summer. I’m no closer to solving these than before questioning Chad. What if—once more—there aren’t any clues?

  The receptionist tapped on his door and opened it. “Sheriff, you have a visitor.” She waved in a tall, handsome, dark-haired man. He was dressed in casual but expensive yachting clothing—light colored slacks, a dark polo shirt with the right logo on it, a red cotton sweater tied over his shoulders, an expensive gold watch on his wrist. He was also obviously nervous.

  Carter stood and offered his hand. “What can I do for you, Mr....?”

  “I’m Gordon Hamilton.” Hamilton shook Carter’s hand. “We spoke on the phone a few weeks ago.”

  Carter gave him a quizzical look.

  “I’d called Audra’s Place and you answered and told me not to call again.” Hamilton’s whole face turned fire-engine red.

  “I see.” Carter motioned the man to take a seat. He tried not to show his surprise—and his instant animosity. This was the man who hurt Audra and rejected Evie. He drew in air and let it out slowly. He wouldn’t lose his temper again today.

  Gordon sat down and shifted uneasily. “I finally decided to come and talk to you because you need to know that I’m not the one who started this calling war.”

  Carter stared at the man who wouldn’t quite meet
his eyes. “Calling war?”

  “I’ve never bothered Audra and never intended to. But right after I stopped at her café earlier this summer, the phone calls started.” Gordon straightened the crisp pleat down the front of his trouser leg. “I think I may have sparked the calls, but I want them to end.” Finally, the man looked up, both uneasy and disgruntled.

  “You want the calls to end?” Carter was trying to put this together, look at it from another perspective. “You think Audra is calling you?”

  “Someone keeps calling and hanging up at all hours of the day and night. I assumed it was Audra because...” Hamilton fell silent and looked down at his shoes. “I did something petty. I took my wife to Audra’s on our first day here and made a show of her.”

  Carter gripped the arms of his chair. You total jerk.

  “It was petty and immature. But I was letting Audra know that I’ve got my life together now and I don’t want her causing trouble.”

  Carter found that his lips had pulled back as if he was ready to snarl. He forced them to relax and asked the obvious next question, “Has Audra caused trouble before?”

  “Well, no.” Hamilton wiped his forehead with the heel of his palm as if he were perspiring. “But right before my wedding, my father counseled me to keep a low profile about my getting married. He’s always been afraid that Audra would demand child support.”

  “You mean you’ve never paid child support?” Outrage roiled through Carter. He made himself count to twenty. Counting to ten wasn’t enough. “You realize that Audra is entitled to child support according to the law?”

  Hamilton shrugged. “I didn’t mean to get Audra pregnant, and she should have listened to me and gone for an abortion. Maybe if she had, we’d still be together. I just wasn’t ready to be Daddy, you know?”

  “I know you’re a man who has—by his own admission,” Carter said with scalding sarcasm, “shirked all responsibility for his own actions and has neglected to support his daughter.”