Playing With Fire Read online

  “Maybe we should work somewhere else,” Stella suggested.

  “You might be right.” Walt grinned at what he hoped was Eric’s ghost close by them. “I guess I better get going. Let me know what you want to do.”

  Hero started barking again and Stella looked out the window. “I guess you might as well stay and meet my parents.”

  “I’d like that.” Walt turned his head from side-to-side. “If you think he won’t mind.”

  “I live here too. He’s going to have to deal with it for now.”

  Sean and Barbara came in and met Walt. Doug helped Sean bring in their suitcases, tossing off Stella’s pink robe. He didn’t try to explain what had happened in the hot tub.

  Stella made coffee and everyone sat around the fire drinking it. The rain and fog had made the day chilly. Stella didn’t turn on the furnace. It was still summer, even though it sometimes felt like fall on days like this.

  She realized she was going to have to go to the store. Between people showing up, and Eric baking, her cupboards were bare. Even worse, she was nursing her last warm can of emergency Coke.

  The conversation went quickly from Sean’s amazement that his daughter could build a real fire—to the reason Stella had stayed on in Sweet Pepper after her contract with the town was up.

  Doug didn’t hold anything back that he’d learned about her investigation, mostly from Walt. Barbara and Sean were both shocked and horrified that Stella was involved in an active murder investigation.

  “You’re a firefighter, for God’s sake,” Sean reminded her. “Not a police detective.”

  Stella wasn’t surprised by his attitude. Didn’t she have similar conversations with Eric all the time?

  “I didn’t realize this was what you meant when you said you were trying to figure out what happened to the old fire chief,” Barbara said. “You said it happened forty years ago. I thought it was some historical project.”

  “Look, I know I’m not a cop,” Stella explained. “Walt is a retired cop, and I have a friend who’s on the job in Sweet Pepper right now who helps out when I need him. I’m not trying to do this alone. Someone needs to do it though, and I guess that’s me.”

  “Why you?” Barbara asked. “Why not the police or the FBI or something?”

  “Because no one else is interested,” Walt said. “It’s been a long time, and forgive me for saying so, Mrs. Griffin, but you know how things work. Once they’re dead and buried, we tend to forget about them.”

  “When we found Chief Gamlyn’s remains behind the fake wall in the old firehouse, it was obvious he hadn’t died like everyone thought,” Stella continued. “All this time, the town mourned a lost hero who’d died doing his job, protecting the community. Instead, it appears that someone took him out of that burning silo, shot him in the head, and stuck him in the firehouse. I’d hope someone would come along and do this for me, if that was my fate.”

  Stella’s words were passionate and heartfelt. No one, including Eric, could doubt her sincerity. He stood close to her as she was surrounded by her family and felt ashamed that he’d argued with her about this, that he’d felt so much anger at what had happened to him.

  She wasn’t to blame. She was only trying to help. He had to let go of the bitterness and anger that had consumed him from the moment he saw what was left of him in the ruins of the old firehouse he’d built.

  He had to try to remember what had happened to him. He had to find a way to help her so she could go home with her family. In the time he’d known her, he had learned how stubborn and determined she could be. He had no doubt that she wouldn’t leave Sweet Pepper until she found out what had happened to him.

  “I can see how serious you are about this,” Barbara said. “But if someone killed that poor man on the road to keep the answer hidden, this might be too dangerous for you, Stella. Who’s going to protect you if you discover what your dead friend knew?”

  Sean added, “I hope you’re not depending on that Chief Rogers for help. I don’t think he likes you, honey. Maybe that other one—what’s his name—Trump? I think he likes you a lot. Sorry, Doug.”

  “That’s okay.” Doug said. “My only concern about this civilian investigation is that Stella doesn’t have the rest of her life to figure this out. It’s already been forty years and, obviously, local law enforcement hasn’t been able to find any answers. No disrespect meant, Walt.”

  “None taken, son. It’s not an investigation my office ever undertook. There was no sign of foul play when Eric died. He ran into the burning silo after realizing one of his firefighters was still inside. The roof collapsed after that man was safe. Eric didn’t come out.”

  Walt shook his head and sadly gazed around the room. “We only realized that it wasn’t an accidental death after we found Chief Gamlyn’s bones in the old firehouse. Whoever put my friend behind that wall after they killed him never expected him to be found.”

  Stella got more wood for the fire and realized Eric was listening to them talk from behind the big brown leather sofa. She wished she could say something to him, but there was no way to disguise that conversation. They’d have to talk later.

  Walt explained that several important breakthroughs had happened in the case. “I know Stella is on a deadline now. I don’t want her to lose her job back in Chicago. I’m hoping we can crack this nut in a short time—or at least find enough information to get law enforcement seriously involved.”

  Stella put more wood in the fireplace. Sparks flew up around the dried pieces of oak. Hero barked a few times, and then seemed surprised by the sound. They all laughed at the dog.

  “I guess we’d better think about getting ready for dinner at Dad’s,” Barbara said. “Anyone got a Valium handy? It might be the only way I’ll make it through this.”

  Walt said his goodbyes and Stella took Doug upstairs to the second floor of the cabin. She’d only been up there a few times. It was filled with things that had belonged to Eric—wood carving projects, his fire chief helmet, and other personal effects.

  There was also a bed and chest of drawers up there. She hoped Eric would behave and not throw Doug down the wood stairs in the middle of the night.

  Stella ran her hand over the smooth surface of a small baby cradle that Eric had carved. She always looked at it when she came up here. It made her feel all weepy to see it and realize that Eric had plans for the future and a family when he’d died.

  It was a beautiful piece of furniture. She could imagine him carving it while he sat on the back deck and watched the river go by.

  Eric had told her once that he missed carving wood almost more than anything else. He said it took a lot of concentration to do anything with solid objects as a ghost. It wasn’t too hard to do something fast, like throwing papers on the floor. Anything that took more time than that was a strain.

  “You should be comfortable up here,” she told Doug. “I don’t think any other strange things, like the hot tub incident, will happen.” I hope not anyway.

  “Thanks.” Doug put his duffel bag on the bed. “You know, I really thought you’d want to see me again when I came down here with your parents. I wouldn’t have come otherwise. We’ve had our disagreements, but we always made up.”

  “I know.”

  “I can see, now that I’m down here, that you don’t need me anymore. You’ve kind of outgrown us, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use, but yes, I’ve changed.”

  “This place, being fire chief—you’re different. It’s okay. Maybe I can help you find your dead fire chief’s killer, and the trip won’t have been a waste.”

  “That would be great. We could use all the help we can get, even if it’s only for a few days.”

  “You know, your mom and dad are real serious about you coming back with them. Your dad already bought a packing crate for the Harley s
o you could ship it.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “I appreciate you letting me stay here. I’ll try not to make it more awkward than it has to be. I’m sorry it happened this way.”

  “Not a problem.” She smiled and started to go back downstairs.

  “Do you think Barbara’s father meant for me to come to dinner too?”

  “I think so. It’s a big place. I’m sure they can squeeze you in.”

  “Thanks.”

  Stella had decided her parents could take her bedroom and she’d sleep on the sofa. She’d slept out there plenty of times for less reason. It was comfortable.

  The bedroom door was closed when she got downstairs. She figured her parents were showering and changing. She should’ve warned them about the limited hot water supply. Oh well. They’d find out soon enough.

  While she was waiting to change, she noticed Eric on the back deck. Putting on a sweater, she joined him. She hoped her parents wouldn’t see two rocking chairs moving. She supposed she could always blame the wind.

  “I hope you’re over Doug now.” She settled into a chair.

  “I hope you are too.”

  “Technically, that’s none of your business. I’m sure Doug and I are over, but I suppose something unexpected could happen to change that.”

  “Like he sweeps you off your feet and asks you to marry him?”

  “No. And this isn’t a fair conversation. You don’t have any girlfriends for me to razz you about.”

  “Yeah. They seem to be in limited supply here.”

  “Eric—”

  “No. Don’t say anything until I apologize.” He rocked in the chair for a few minutes, his eyes unfocused as he gazed out at the mountains that surrounded them. “I’m sorry I took it out on you, Stella. I know you’re only trying to help. I feel like such a fool. I can’t even remember how I died. That seems stupid to me.”

  “I suppose it was fairly traumatic.” She tried to empathize. “It’s hard to remember anything that happens around an accident or injury. Your mind kind of goes blank. I can’t imagine what it must be like dealing with understanding your own death.”

  “That being said, I know your parents want you back. I don’t blame them. I can’t tell you how much I hate the idea of losing you. I understand that you have to go. I appreciate whatever time and effort you can give me to help Walt figure out what happened.”

  “I’ll do the best I can, Eric. I hate the idea of leaving you too. I wish I could bring you home in my suitcase. I suppose you probably wouldn’t be very happy haunting my apartment anyway. No mountains or river to look at.”

  He grinned. “I don’t think it works that way.”

  “I know we’ve been over this before, but would you consider thinking back to that night that you died? Knowing that someone brought you out of the silo might jog something in your memory.”

  His face was grim. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

  Chapter 13

  The wind sighed as it blew through the eaves around the deck. The rain danced lightly on the roof above them, but didn’t reach the chairs.

  “We knew the silo fire would be bad,” Eric recounted. “I called the county for help. I don’t know if they ever got there. The fire was burning so hot—there was no way the structure was going to stand for long. I called everyone to make sure they got out before the roof collapsed.”

  “And you were standing at the front of the building when that happened?” She tried to visualize the situation.

  “Yes. Tagger was Ricky Hutchins’s partner. He ran out and told me he’d lost contact with Ricky. I tried to get Ricky on the radio but there was no reply. Everyone else was out of the building. I had to go inside and find him.”

  “How many fire brigade members were at the silo fire?” Stella asked.

  “The whole crew—probably about twenty-one. I got them all on the hoses, put on my face mask, and ran back inside. The smoke was like a wall surrounding me. I could barely make out anything. Even with the hoses going full force, the heat was unbearable. I knew Ricky wouldn’t last long like that. Me either, for that matter.”

  “Okay. So you found Ricky. He was almost overcome by smoke. He told me you gave him your face mask. He put it on and ran out the front where you’d come in, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why weren’t you running out right behind him? You knew you couldn’t do anything else in there. You knew the roof was about to collapse. What made you stand there for that extra time?”

  “It sounds crazy, but it was a shadow.” Eric thought back. “I saw a shadow move to the left of me. I thought there might be someone else trapped inside. I moved toward it.”

  Stella waited a minute and then nudged him when he didn’t continue. “You went farther in to see if anyone else was still there, didn’t you? Then what happened?”

  “I don’t know.” He looked at her blankly. “It’s like one minute I was standing there, looking for one of my men—who else would be in the silo? The next, I was here. There was nothing else. I always assumed I was overwhelmed by the heat and smoke. Or the roof collapsed on me.”

  “You didn’t see the roof collapsing? It sounds more like heat and smoke.”

  “It sounds that way.”

  “You think someone else was really in there with you? Or was the smoke playing tricks on you?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “That’s all I remember.”

  “I think, given what we know now, we can assume if there was someone in the silo with you, it was probably your killer.”

  “Does Ricky remember seeing anyone before he ran out?” Eric asked.

  “Only you, I think. But it can’t hurt to ask him again.”

  “Stella?” Barbara opened the door to the deck and looked around. “Who are you talking to? I thought you said cell phones didn’t work up here. It’s freezing. You should come in and get ready for dinner.”

  “I’m coming right now.” Once a mother, Stella thought with a smile.

  She waited until her mother had gone back inside. “Don’t worry,” she said to Eric. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

  “I hope someone would do the same for me too. See you later.”

  “Who were you talking to?” Barbara repeated as Stella went inside and shut the door behind her.

  “No one. Just mumbling to myself. I spend too much time alone, I guess.”

  Her mother paced the open wood floor. “I’m a nervous wreck about this whole dinner thing. It’s not like I didn’t expect to see Dad while I was here. It’s been a long time. I wanted to thank you for coming to my rescue about staying with him. I don’t think I’m ready to sleep in my old room. I hope I’m ready to eat at the mansion. I don’t want to alarm your father. You know how he can be.”

  “Feisty?” Stella grinned. “I know.”

  “I don’t know how we avoided talking about it on the way down here. Probably because Doug was there and we were discussing our strategy on how to get you on a plane with us going home.”

  Stella shook her head. “Mom—”

  “I know. I know.” Barbara paced some more, this time right through Eric as he came in from the deck. She shivered violently but kept walking. “I haven’t been to the mansion since I was a kid. I was so young when I left home.” She laughed self-consciously. “I suppose it’s hard to imagine all that drama, huh?”

  “It definitely doesn’t seem like you. If Dad had told me he was from a rich family he’d never mentioned, I wouldn’t be surprised.” She studied her mother’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Barbara sat down on the worn leather sofa. Stella sat beside her, their hands joined. Eric was in the large, easy-chair by the fireplace. If he could tolerate her digging into his past, she supposed she’d have to
tolerate him listening to her family secrets.

  “I know you must think I’m the worst mother in the world,” Barbara said. “What kind of mother let’s her daughter walk into something like this and doesn’t say anything?”

  “I’ve wondered that a few times, especially after you told me you thought Ben—sorry I can’t think of him as my grandfather yet—might have killed your mother.”

  “That was silly kid stuff. I realized a long time ago that those suspicions were part of the trauma of finding my mother dead at the bottom of the staircase. When Dad contacted me after you broke up with Doug, I realized that I’d been wrong about him. My whole life had been built around a lie.”

  Barbara continued, with tears in her eyes. “How was I going to tell you and your father, or anyone else, that I was a wealthy heiress from Sweet Pepper, Tennessee? It sounded crazy, even to me.”

  “That’s exactly what you are,” Stella reminded her. “Ben never had another child. You’re it. Me taking this job and coming down here, surely that was the best lead-in you were ever going to get.”

  “It was. I thought about it, believe me. Your grandfather was so worried about how my story would affect you that he asked me not to say anything. He wanted to be the one to tell you, after you got to know him a little. I hadn’t done such a great job of handling the whole thing with my past. I kept quiet a little longer.”

  Barbara twisted her plain gold wedding band on her finger. “Now here we are, in Sweet Pepper, about to have dinner with my father. When I left here, I called him a murderer. I reported him to the police and almost caused him to go to jail.”

  She looked up at Stella. “I never thought I’d come back. I wrote off this life and never thought about it again after I met your father.”

  “Knowing all that,” said Sean as he joined them, freshly changed into a gray suit and red tie with the Chicago Fire Department emblem on it, “you still didn’t give us a heads-up. It scares me now, thinking what other secrets you’re hiding.”

  Barbara stood up and kissed him, smoothing a stray strand of his hair that had a tendency to stand up. “The rest of my life is an open book. Outside of my father being a millionaire and living down here in his own little kingdom, that’s it.”