“I understand.” Brad turned to Stella. “Is there anything else I should know about that came out of the investigation? There was no evidence turned in by Mrs. Hubbard. I hope that means that you found no sign of foul play.”
Stella’s words were guarded. “The investigation was abruptly shut down. We may never know the truth.”
“I guess what we have here will have to do then.” Brad shook hands with Chief Rogers and Stella. “I’ll be talking to both of you soon.”
Stella waited for Brad to leave the office. She closed the door before she took out the detonator in the plastic evidence bag.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“I don’t know for sure.” He took the detonator from her. “I’ll have someone take a look at this. It won’t be someone from the state, I can tell you that. Something else is wrong here. I can’t put my finger on it, but my gut is screaming at me to keep digging. Have you heard anything else?”
Stella wasn’t sure if she should repeat what Walt had told her. She decided to tell Chief Rogers what she knew, but not how she knew it.
When she’d explained what Walt had told her, he whistled and sat back in his chair. “Why’d they pick my town to mess up?”
“It seems to me it was the only place they could take care of Barney Falk, his son, and his grandson. What are you going to do?”
“Darn if I know. Let’s keep a lid on this. It’s probably gonna get worse before it gets better.”
W
hen Stella arrived at the Sweet Pepper Café there were colored streamers and balloons everywhere. A sign at the door said “Free Cake for Everyone.”
Eric wondered what the celebration was.
“Did you hear?” Lucille Hutchins’s face was wreathed in a huge smile. “My Ricky got parole. He’s coming home in a few days. I’m so excited. I can’t tell you how hard it’s been without him. Once he gets back you can have Little Ricky again for the fire brigade.”
“I asked you not to call me that,” Ricky Junior protested, holding a gray tub full of dishes. “I know you and Dad like to think of us like the old TV show, but we’re not.”
Stella was surprised at his unhappy tone. She congratulated Lucille and she followed Ricky into the kitchen.
“What’s up? Where’s your excitement? You wanted to get back to the fire brigade. You’ll get your chance.”
Ricky continued rinsing plates that were bound for the dishwasher. “I don’t know. I wanted him to come back. I’ve missed him as much as Mom. And you know I want to drive the engine again. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
She looked at him with the elbow-high yellow rubber gloves on his hands. “You know sometimes getting to the end of something can be depressing, even if something good is happening. You don’t know what’s next and you’re not sure what to do.”
He put down the plate he was holding and turned off the faucet. “That’s the thing. I’ve been thinking this whole time that I wanted to break away from the café. I’ve worked here since I was nine. I want to do something else—make more money, for one thing.”
“You should do it. Once your father gets back and is settled in, tell them. Do something else—as long as it leaves you with time to work on my trucks. They miss you.”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” He glanced around the busy kitchen and lowered his voice. “Ben Carson offered me a job working on his cars. He’s got a buttload of them, all classics, except the new ones. It’s good money, and I’d be my own man for once, not just
Little Ricky—
busing tables and flipping burgers.”
“Bad idea,” Eric commented. “Don’t let him get mixed up with the old man.”
Stella considered the proposition.
Why not?
Ricky was right about the big garage full of cars that had to be serviced. He was really good with engines. Maybe that was his calling.
“Ricky?” His mother popped her head in the doorway. “There are three tables that need cleaning. Quick now. We can’t fall down on the job because we’re excited.”
“Thanks, Chief.” He smiled at her when Lucille was gone. “I appreciate the pep talk.”
“This could be a good opportunity for you,” Stella said. “Good luck. I’m looking forward to you coming back to the team.”
“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “I bet JC isn’t. He’s giving up my engine. That’s all I have to say. It’s good to have backup for emergencies, but
I’m
the main driver.”
She laughed as she left the kitchen. She really didn’t believe it would be a serious problem between the two men.
“That’s a mistake,” Eric said again. “Nothing good will come of it.”
She ignored him.
“Stella!” Her grandfather hailed her from a booth near the front windows. “Over here.”
“I’m going to wander around the café,” Eric told her. “I don’t want to have lunch with him.”
Stella watched Eric disappear and then sat down across from her grandfather, surprised to find he was alone. She’d expected Steven Morrow to be with him. She ordered sweet tea, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a salad.
“No fries?” the waitress asked.
“Not today. I have to cut back on the fried foods.” Stella wasn’t surprised that the waitress knew her eating habits. She ate at the café several times a week.
“Wise choice.” Her grandfather patted his flat stomach. “It’s good to eat fresh vegetables.”
“Good
for
you. Not necessarily good tasting.”
Ben laughed, his face wrinkling at the eyes and lips. He was picking up a tan from working in the new vineyards, where he hoped to turn a profit in a few years.
“Didn’t your mother tell you not to eat so much junk food?”
“If she did, I didn’t listen.” The waitress brought Stella a large Coke.
“Good job today with the will,” Ben commended. “I’m sorry I let you down. I didn’t realize what a loser Steven was. At least he won’t be a loser on
my
payroll anymore.”
“You fired him?”
“I pay well for good service. I don’t pay anything for bad service.” Ben sat back and smiled at her. “Which reminds me—I’ve offered Ricky Hutchins Jr. a job servicing my cars. My mechanic left suddenly a few days ago. I know you think highly of Ricky.”
“I do,” she agreed. “I’m sure he’ll do a good job for you. I’ll be happy to get him back at the firehouse too. I hope you realize he’ll need time for practice and calls.”
“By all means. You know I’m a backer of the fire brigade. I plan to make a hefty donation tomorrow at the barbecue. I’m intrigued by the fireboat idea. I look forward to a tour when it’s ready. Kudos on that project too. Bob Floyd and Nay Albert must be off somewhere licking their wounds. Are you sure I can’t convince you to come to work for me too?”
“Not as long as Sweet Pepper wants me for their fire chief.”
Their meals came—Ben ate only a large salad.
Stella looked at her salad and started on her sandwich.
“I wasn’t happy about someone kidnapping you up off the road like that. I wish you’d let me hire a bodyguard for you. You’re the heir to everything I own—you and your mother. People could want to get at me through you.”
“I appreciate that, Ben. In this case, it had nothing to do with my being your granddaughter.” She thought about how frightening Eric had been that night. “I can take care of myself in most situations.”
“All right. I know better than to argue with you by now.” He smiled at her. “You’re good at making deals. So am I. I guess we get along best that way.”
“I think so.”
“What’s the news on your investigation into what happened to Barney? I’ve heard some crazy stories about that.”
“I can’t really talk about it right now. I’m sure you know as much as I do anyway. I’ve heard you have spies everywhere.”
“I’m not the king of Sweet Pepper,” he reminded her. “I hear things like you do. Talk gets around in a town this size.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She sipped her Coke and finished her sandwich. A few bites of leafy green made it into her mouth before she stopped eating.
“I
did
hear a rumor that you’re dating Rufus Palcomb.” Ben finished his salad and patted his mouth with his napkin. “The Palcomb family has always been hardworking. Their boats are known all over the world.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
“Stella, let’s face it—he’ll never amount to much. I think he’s a fine young man from what everyone tells me. But he’s not the right man for you. You could do so much better.”
This was always the part that made Stella angry. Ben manipulated so much in world. She knew he wanted to manipulate her life too—from where she lived to the job she did and the man she was dating. That wasn’t going to happen.
“I like Rufus. I don’t know how far that will go. Right now I’m not serious about anyone. I can’t be. I’m very focused on making the Sweet Pepper Fire Brigade the best it can be. I’m a career firefighter, Ben. I don’t think that makes for good climbing up the social ladder.”
“I understand, although I should mention that no granddaughter of mine would have to climb
anything
to have her pick of the wealthiest and most powerful men in Tennessee.”
“Thanks anyway.” She took out her wallet.
“Put that away. You know I’m not letting you pay for lunch.”
“Thanks. Just so you know, buying me lunch doesn’t give you the opportunity to decide who I’m dating. I’ll see you later, Ben.”
“What?” He got to his feet in a lithe move for a man his age. “No hug?”
Stella hugged him. It was getting easier. He was so thin she felt like she could break him. “Take care of yourself. Don’t eat so much green food.”
He laughed and left a hefty tip on the table.
Stella spent the rest of the afternoon collecting recipes. Eric had joined her as she left the café. She had ten pepper recipes for the festival from new people who’d recently moved to the area.
“Are you trying to get more recipes than anyone else ever has?” Eric asked as she went from place to place.
“You saw how happy they were with three recipes. Imagine how happy they’ll be with a hundred.”
“No, that’s not right. You have to start thinking slower and smaller. This is Sweet Pepper, Stella. No one is competing with you. They’ll be happy with whatever you do.”
“I don’t have speeds—just an on and off switch.”
“You’re going to set standards that other people who follow will hate you for.”
“Look who’s talking. The man who built a dam on the Little Pigeon River by himself in his spare time while he made a tunnel through one of the Smoky Mountains.”
“Do they
really
say that about me?”
She laughed. “Something like that. You’re definitely mythological.”
“I kind of like that.”
“That’s what I mean. Get out of my way. I’m getting another ten recipes before I head back.”
Stella only ended up with three more recipes. Her mother called from Chicago. Her father had hurt his back trying to catch a child who’d jumped out of a second-story window during a fire. He was on medical leave for a few weeks.
“Tell him he’s supposed to go up and rescue them
before
they have to jump,” Stella joked.
Her mother relayed her message. Her father threatened to take back the Harley he’d let her bring to Sweet Pepper.
Stella told them about the barbecue and demonstration to raise money. She also told them about everything that was going on in the investigation of Barney Falk’s death. She left out the part about being kidnapped. She didn’t want them to worry about her any more than they already did.
“You know it was the oddest thing,” her mother said. “While we were there I took several pictures of the cabin so your aunts and uncles could see where you were living.”
“Let me guess—they couldn’t believe I could live someplace like that.”
“No. Everyone thought it was darling. Your Uncle Jamie wants to know when he can come down there and go fishing.”
Stella laughed. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It was your Aunt Maura. She looked at one of the pictures around the stairs in your cabin. She swears she saw a ghost there. I looked at it. I don’t see anything. But I told her about the ghost haunting the cabin. You know she’s always claimed to have the ‘sight’. This time I’m not so sure.”
Stella had the phone on speaker so Eric could hear too. “What did she claim to see?”
“She said it was the ghost of a big, blond-haired man with his hair tied back. He was wearing a red shirt and boots. Kind of detailed, huh?”
“I’ll say,” Eric reacted.
“And you can’t see anything?” Stella asked her.
“Not a thing. But you know your father’s family—always full of Irish blarney. Anyway I only mention it because Aunt Maura says she’s sending you a ghost charm. I don’t know if it’s supposed to protect you or what. It’s some kind of root wrapped with twine. Just a heads-up in case you want to put it right in the trash.”
Stella said she’d take a look at it and they talked about Stella’s date with Rufus. She promised to send pictures of him, and of the new fireboat.
“I have to go,” her mother said with a sigh. “You know what a baby your father is when he’s hurt. I love you, Stella. Call me when you can.”
Stella had been walking through Sweet Pepper’s municipal park as she spoke with her mother. There were a few joggers, but otherwise she was alone.
“Maybe that’s why
you
can see me,” Eric said. “Maybe it runs in your family. You could start a business like Madam Emery. You’d have to change your name though. Madam Stella doesn’t sound right.”
“I think I’ll take a look at the ghost charm Aunt Maura is sending. Maybe it’s a charm that will make a ghost do and say only what you want.”
“What fun would that be? Living with a ghost should be full of excitement and a little fear. I
am
a supernatural creature, you know.”
“Yeah. My grandmother in Chicago called that kind of supernatural creature a buttinski.”
They’d reached the Cherokee and the end of Stella’s quest for recipes. She had to get home, take a shower, and get ready for her date.
“What are you wearing tonight?” Eric asked after they were in the truck and she’d started the engine.
“When did you become a fashionista?”
“A what?”
“Never mind. What do you think I should wear?”
“I think you should wear something demure for your first date. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea. Nothing too tight or low-cut. Don’t forget—you’re after marriage, not a fling.”
Stella laughed long and hard at that. Tears ran down her cheeks as she stopped at the stoplight going out of town.
Cindy Reynolds, whose claim to fame was that she had once seen a headless ghost on Second Street was in the car next to Stella’s. She made a cranking motion with her hand to get Stella to roll down the window.
“Are you okay?” Cindy asked.
“I’m fine. Why?”
Cindy shrugged. “I saw you on the news and I was worried about you.”
“Thanks. I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m hanging in there. Worried about my mother’s old house being haunted. She can hardly get a wink of sleep for all the moaning.”
“That sounds bad,” Stella remarked.
“We’ll figure it out,” Cindy said. “Just an unhappy ghost, I guess. Probably my uncle. He was always miserable when he was alive.”
Stella waved and closed her window before she drove through the intersection when the light had turned green.
“Sounds like an unhappy ghost who wants people out of the house,” Eric remarked.
“You want to talk to him? Maybe you can help.”
“No, thanks. I have my own problems.”
“Like what? The cabin is safe now.”