That Old Flame of Mine (18 page)

Chapter 21

D
on Rogers joined Stella at the Sweet Pepper Café as she was about to drink a very large glass of vanilla Coke. “Ms. Griffin.”

“Chief Rogers.” She continued taking the paper off her straw. The waitress brought him a cup of coffee.

“I hear someone might be trying to get rid of you—one way or another. At least that’s what John told me after he assigned you police protection twenty-four/seven. Are you sure these events aren’t a coincidence?”

“Not at all. John seems to feel there’s something more sinister behind what’s happened. I don’t know if I agree with him. Either way, you don’t have to worry. I’m not going anywhere until my contract is over.”

He smiled in a patronizing way. “You see, that’s exactly what I came to talk to you about. Maybe it would be better for you to leave now. It would be cheaper for the town too. John said you’re looking at Petey Stanze to take your place. I’m sure she’s as ready as she’s going to be. The rest she can learn on the fly. The town saves money. You don’t have to worry about your safety. It sounds like a win-win to me.”

Stella took a sip of Coke and smiled back at him in an equally meaningless way. “First of all, you can tell your officers to stop following me around anytime you want to. I’m not worried about my safety. I’m more worried about the fire brigade having the training they’ll need to stay together after I’m gone. That means something to me. I’m not leaving Sweet Pepper until then.”

Don sipped his coffee and looked around the crowded diner. “I appreciate your honesty, Ms. Griffin. And I’ll take your advice. There won’t be any officers following you around again. Enjoy your breakfast.”

Stella leaned over her Coke and didn’t respond. It was cowardly, she knew. She was tired of arguing with him. Thank goodness he was gone. He’d almost ruined the best vanilla Coke she’d ever had. She had a feeling if she stayed on, she and Don would always rub each other the wrong way.

As soon as Don was gone, Elvita Quick and Theodora Mangrum took his seat in the booth, across from her. They wanted to talk to her again about her part in judging the chocolate division of the pepper recipe contest.

“It’s very important from here on in not to sample anyone’s recipes or give any encouragement to anyone who might be entering your portion of the contest,” Elvita said.

“That’s right,” Theodora agreed. “We’re assuming people have asked you to taste this and that. As a judge, it is unethical for you to say yay or nay about their food—until the contest.”

Stella agreed not to taste any food offered by potential contestants. She smiled at the two sisters, each wearing large birds on their red hats. “I swear I won’t give anyone my opinion until after the festival.”

Both sisters were pleased with her promise.

“Now, let’s talk about the proper attire for a contest judge. We’re assuming you have more than jeans to wear? If not, here is a list of some of Sweet Pepper’s most excellent dressmakers,” Theodora said.

“And hatmakers too.” Elvita smiled and patted her hat. “They made these hats for us. I’m sure they could whip something up for you too.”

“And don’t forget about your own recipe,” Theodora reminded her. “We’ll need to have it soon. What category were you thinking about?”

Stella muttered something she hoped was unintelligible since she had no idea what kind of pepper recipe she could submit, much less cook. She might have to look up a recipe on the Internet if Eric didn’t come through for her.

She checked herself. Was she actually depending on a ghostly voice in an old cabin to tell her what to do? Eric wasn’t even a whole ghost—only a voice.

Both ladies smiled. Stella thanked them and put their lists in her wallet. They parted company on good terms.

Dozens of people stopped to talk about the fire brigade, her wreck, and the message on the pumper. Word had spread quickly. She finally returned to the Cherokee and drove back to the firehouse.

Marty had arrived to start his training. Even though it was Monday morning, there were also a few other new volunteers. Kimmie and David Spratt had joined, along with their Dalmatian, Sylvia. The couple had tied red neckerchiefs on Sylvia and her puppy, Hero.

A friend of Allen’s from the pepper factory, Royce Pope, also wanted to volunteer. He had asked his friend JC Burris to try out too.

Bert Wando was ready to resume training, having gotten a note from his doctor saying that it was okay. Banyin, the librarian, was also there.

Local employers and the high school knew how important this training was and gave special time for practice. The team couldn’t keep up if they could only practice on times they were off or on weekends.

They were all standing around talking and drinking coffee. Stella was proud to see the ranks swell with new members. Being in charge was different than being a member of the team. She’d created something here—something that had meaning and would last to serve the people of Sweet Pepper.

She didn’t have time to stand there and appreciate it. The new members of the fire brigade needed to start training with the established members.

Stella began by having them climb the stairs to the top of the firehouse, carrying a coiled sixty-pound hose. It was like tag, each volunteer handing off the hose to the next person in line.

There were still enough bunker coats, boots, and other gear to outfit the new people. When the next chief came in, they would have to find a way to raise money for more gear. The old firehouse itself would also need more repairs. There were several holes in the wood floor outside the garage bays.

Tagger sat in a lawn chair beside Stella, watching the trainees’ sometimes comical attempts to get up and down the stairs holding the hose. “I remember when Chief Gamlyn used to make us hang from that pole up yonder in the ceiling. He knew how to get everyone ready, that’s for sure.”

“So what happened to him?” Stella asked as she kept her eyes on the new recruits. Marty was having a hard time going up the stairs in his gear even without holding the hose, but he kept trying. Ahead of him, JC and Royce were running up the stairs with the hose, laughing and encouraging each other, their dark faces gleaming with sweat. They weren’t big, but they were fast and strong.

“Don’t know for sure. We were fighting a big fire over at one of the grain silos. That baby was hot, let me tell you. One of the men got trapped inside, and the roof was about to collapse. Chief Gamlyn rushed in after him. The man came out. The silo exploded. We never saw the chief again.”

“No one went in after the chief?”

“No, ma’am. That roof went down right after Ricky Hutchins Sr. escaped. There was no time to save the chief. We had a good memorial send-off for him. The town put up a nice statue for him in the cemetery. There wasn’t another one like him, that’s for sure. After that, the county took over and all of us retired from the firefighting business.”

“I’ve heard a lot of stories about Eric Gamlyn,” she said. “How can you tell which ones are true?”

Tagger’s face became a mass of wrinkles as he grinned widely. “Why, ma’am, they’re all true. He was the man all the rest of us wanted to be.”

Stella smiled at him and watched him rub his hand across his short hair. “You’re a hero too, Tagger. Everyone says so. I’ll bet a lot of people look up to you too.”

“Not so much. When we came back from Vietnam, people thought we were wrong for fighting and dying over there. Not so much here in Sweet Pepper as other places. Those were some bad times for me. My daddy owned a gristmill that I was gonna take over someday. He died while I was gone and the bank foreclosed. They built Beau’s out there on the property. My girl had married someone else. There wasn’t much to come home for. I don’t think I would’ve stayed except for Chief Gamlyn and the fire brigade. When both of those were gone too, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

“I’m sorry, Tagger. It sounds like it was a hard time for you.”

“It’s over now. You’re here to get the fire brigade back up and running.” He leaned a little closer to her. “You know, Chief Gamlyn’s ghost haunts this place. I see him sometimes at night when I’m here. He’d want you to stay on. The two of you would’ve hit it off.”

His blue eyes were so sincere, she wondered if he really had seen the old chief. Maybe Eric only showed himself to a select few.

Marty picked that moment to fall down the stairs, creating a domino effect as he cannonballed into Petey and Kent waiting at the bottom.

John came in dressed in his police uniform. Stella had wondered where he was—he never missed practice. Everyone was laughing and trying to coil up the hose again. John ignored all of it and walked straight over to where Stella and Tagger were sitting.

“Could I have a word with you, Chief?” John nodded at Tagger. He walked a few yards away and stopped, waiting for her.

“Sounds important,” Tagger said. “You go on. I’ll keep these new people straight.”

Stella joined John beside the engine. “We got the prints back from the kerosene can we found at Tory’s place. It was Victor who started the fire. He paid off that insurance man to cover for him. We arrested him too.”

No one would be surprised by that. “You arrested Victor for the arson and Tory’s death?”

“We’ve got Victor for killing Tory,” John explained. “His fingerprints were all over Tory’s box of insulin. He said he bought it for her at the pharmacy. Don doesn’t believe him.”

“I suppose that would be easy enough to check,” Stella said.

“I think we’ve got him dead to rights. He admitted setting the fire, even though he claims he didn’t mean to kill Tory. Crazy, huh? Of course he wanted to kill her. He says he only wanted to scare her away. He knew she was terrified of fire.”

“I guess that’s it then.”

“I thought you’d be a lot happier about it. Victor was always trying to suck the life out of his mother. He finally got up the courage. We caught him. That’s how justice is supposed to work.”

She agreed, finally. “You’re right. It’s a little anticlimactic, I guess. It’s good news, John. Thanks for letting me know.”

He glanced around. “I’m sorry about last night. I don’t know what gets into me sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry you had to miss practice, but you’ve done a great job finding Tory’s killer.”

“With your help.” He smiled and took her hand in his.

The sirens on the engine went off, startling everyone and causing them to rush over to John and Stella to see what was going on. John let go of Stella’s hand and stepped back.

The sirens immediately stopped.

“That was weird,” Banyin said. “What were you two doing over here?”

Tagger laughed. “Whatever it was, I don’t think the old chief wanted it going on around his firehouse. You two better take it elsewhere.”

There was laughter and good-natured joking—everyone had seen John let go of Stella’s hand. John left soon after. Drills continued with each of the volunteers taking a turn holding one of the smaller hoses.

The experienced volunteers had the hang of holding the high-pressure hose. A few of the new volunteers confidently picked up the hose but lost it as soon as the water was turned on.

“What am I doing wrong?” Kimmie asked as Sylvia and Hero jumped around barking at her. “It looks like I’m doing what everyone else is doing, but the hose keeps getting away from me.”

Stella was about to answer when Petey stepped in. “You have to hunker down. It’s like you’re wrestling an alligator. At least that’s the way I think about it. Grab it with both hands. Kind of squat down, with your feet apart.”

She talked Kimmie and David through mastering the hose, much to Stella’s delight. Truly, Petey was the right one for the job as chief. Her performance at every turn said so.

No amount of Petey’s coaching seemed to help Marty. Again and again, he kept grabbing the hose only to lose it when the water was turned on. Even Royce and JC tried to help him since they got it right away. It was no use.

Finally, when everyone was exhausted, Stella called a halt to the session. “We treat this like we would a fire. Everyone cleans up their gear and the equipment before they leave. Next time we’ll be working with getting your gear on quickly and learning to use the mask and breathing apparatus. You all did a great job today. Thanks to the new volunteers for joining and to you old-timers for sticking with it.”

“When do we learn to drive the big truck?” Marty asked.

“You don’t.” Ricky bumped him as he walked by. “I drive the engine. Kent drives the pumper. That’s the way it is.”

As the other volunteers started back into the firehouse, Stella stooped down to pick up some debris lying in the parking lot. It was a piece of red taillight, probably from the pickup that had tried to run her over last night. Her ribs, which had been silent most of the day, started hurting in response.

Stella heard Hero and Sylvia start barking. She looked up as Kimmie called them back from the road. She was surprised to see her grandfather pull up in a big black Cadillac. A man in a black uniform came around and opened the back passenger-side door for him.

“Stella. It’s good to see you. How’s that head doing? What’s this I hear about someone trying to scare you away from Sweet Pepper?”