T
here wasn’t much else she could do. Stella carefully nosed the Cherokee out of Beau’s parking lot. No one could save her from a bullet that would do a lot of damage very quickly unless she went along with whatever Brad had in mind.
“The only way Gail told you about the detonator was under duress.” Stella kept her eyes on the road. “You ran her vehicle off the road this morning, didn’t you?”
“You two were quite a team. Good work. The only thing is that the people who pay me were hoping you and Mrs. Hubbard would keep your mouths shut. What didn’t you understand about our warnings?”
Stella kept the Cherokee moving at a slow rate of speed as they approached the town. She thought something would come up—a distraction of some sort—so she could get away without taking the bullet that seemed to have her name on it. She was scared. Her palms were sweaty. What could she do?
“You should’ve told me how serious you were about it. I would’ve paid more attention.”
“I don’t think so. You’re the heroic type, I’m afraid. People like you tend to live short lives.”
Stella stopped at the red light on Main Street. The whole area was deserted. Many of the stores and restaurants—even the coffee shop—were closed. Everyone was at Beau’s.
“Just park over there at town hall. Chief Rogers is waiting for us.” Brad nodded toward the parking area. The Glock was still pressed into Stella’s side.
She parked the Cherokee and waited to see what came next. When he got out she might have a chance to get away. She wondered if Chief Rogers was still alive. Had Brad killed Gail too?
“Let’s get out now,” he said.
The door beside Stella opened, and Barney Falk Jr.’s driver was standing there with another gun in front of him. Brad pushed up against her to slide out of the Cherokee. He was right behind her. It was the perfect setup. She didn’t think she could get away without losing a kidney.
Timing.
It all came down to waiting for the right time.
* * *
Eric felt a sharp tug, as though he was involved in the tug-of-war he’d been watching. But this was something different.
He looked up as the taillights on the red Cherokee were disappearing out of Beau’s parking lot. It seemed odd that Stella would leave without a word. He saw her jacket still on the chair where she’d left it. He tried to follow her to find out what was going on.
He couldn’t. She’d left the badge in her jacket pocket. He was stuck at Beau’s.
It was probably nothing. Stella probably went to run an errand, maybe pick up something for Willy. Maybe she went to talk Chief Rogers into making an appearance.
But his gut, or what was left of it, told him something was wrong.
Hero was standing where the Cherokee had been parked. His nose lifted as he sniffed the air and whined. Eric went to him and asked what was wrong. Hero responded by barking sharply several times, not taking his eyes off the road.
Kimmie heard him and walked through Eric to speak to Hero, reminding the dog that he was supposed to be on his best behavior.
Eric looked around. He couldn’t follow Stella and he couldn’t tell anyone else that there might be a problem. Hero was the only one that could hear him.
He whispered in the dog’s ear and told him to forget what Kimmie had told him and follow Stella. Hero took off running, with Kimmie and Sylvia in hot pursuit.
“Hey, Chief.” Tagger scratched his head as he came up behind him. “Why’d you want to get Hero in trouble like that?”
Eric suddenly remembered that Hero
wasn’t
the only one who could see and hear him. “I think Chief Griffin is in trouble.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Tagger looked across the crowded area and yelled, “Hey, Kent! I think Chief Griffin is in trouble.”
* * *
Stella walked into town hall with the driver on one side and Brad on the other. The place was completely empty—except for Chief Rogers, who was tied to a chair in the big conference room.
He had duct tape across his mouth. There was a nasty bruise on his forehead and right cheek, blood and dirt on his uniform.
“As you can see Chief Rogers wasn’t forthcoming about how the three of you worked this out.” Barney Falk Jr. strode into the room. His expression was as pleasant as it was on his posters.
“Worked what out?” Stella realized where she’d made her mistake. “You mean that you killed your father?”
“I knew you were sharp for a fire chief!”
“What I can’t figure out is why.”
“Let’s say that my father was old-fashioned. He didn’t approve of selling drugs to finance our lifestyle or my campaign. When he found out he said he’d put an end to it. He left me no choice. Our family’s legacy must continue.”
“And it didn’t bother you to use your son as part of this either?”
“I’m preserving his future too. He doesn’t understand right now, but he will later.”
Brad asked Stella to sit in one of the chairs that were set around the table. “I thought about using a small amount of C-4 here in town hall. That seemed messy and unnecessary.”
“What have you decided to do?” Stella refused to take a seat. They were obviously going to kill her. Placating them didn’t seem important.
“I believe Chief Rogers is going to shoot you with his gun and then take his own life.” He shrugged. “Tragic really. Both of you are such
good
people. Everyone knows you two don’t get along. They were all speculating about it at the barbecue. I don’t think anyone will be surprised.”
“Good idea,” Barney Falk Jr. approved. “That’s why I hired Agent Whitman. He thinks on his feet!”
“I don’t understand why an agent with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation would get involved in something like this.” Stella tried to reason with Brad.
He smiled. “Do you know what retirement is for a state investigator?”
“So it’s all about the money?”
“I’ve been an TBI agent for ten years, Stella. I think
you
might make more money than I do.”
“Why not just get another job?” She tried to keep him talking in what she was beginning to think was a vain effort to stay safe. “I’m sure private security pays better.”
“I chose another path, a very
lucrative
path.” He carefully made his way around the table to take the chief’s gun from his holster. Chief Rogers made some strangled talking noises that were muffled behind his gag.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d given me all the evidence as I asked you to at the cemetery that day,” Brad persisted. “I could’ve handled the whole thing. It was you, Mrs. Hubbard, and Chief Rogers who stepped out of line. You get what you ask for.”
“What do you want me to do?” Falk’s driver asked from near the door.
“Wait outside,” his boss said. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. We have a plane to catch.”
Brad’s eyes never left Stella’s face as he walked around the table holding Chief Rogers’s service revolver.
“It would be easier if you sat down,” he said to her. “I don’t see any reason for you to fall on the floor. Both of you could be sitting here, arguing like always, when Chief Rogers’s temper gets the better of him.”
“Just do it, Brad,” Falk urged. “I’ll be outside. Don’t take all day about it either.”
Chief Rogers’s attempts to be heard got louder as Barney Falk left them. He rocked back and forth in his chair.
Stella heard a commotion at the front door. Falk swore, and his driver started yelling at someone. She heard a familiar bark and growl. Had Hero followed her? She didn’t want him to get hurt.
“What’s that?” Brad’s gaze slid away from her toward the front door.
Stella didn’t wait for another chance. She threw herself at him trying to knock his gun hand to the side. He yelled as the gun went off.
Hero found his way into the conference room through the door the driver had left open. He jumped on Brad, clamping onto his hand as though he meant to pull him out of a wrecked car.
The gun went off again before Stella could knock it out of Brad’s hand. She was terrified Hero was going to be hurt. Brad kicked at Hero, but the dog wouldn’t let him go.
Stella pulled back her right hand and punched Brad as hard as she could. It wasn’t enough to knock him out, but it staggered him. He dropped to one knee, shaking his head.
Chief Rogers knocked his chair over on top of Brad, pinning him to the floor.
There was a cracking sound. Stella didn’t wait to see what it was. She untied Chief Rogers and pulled Hero away from Brad.
“Are you okay?” she asked Don Rogers as he ripped the duct tape from his mouth.
“I’ll live. Thanks.”
Brad was in too much pain to struggle much—probably a few broken ribs.
Several Sweet Pepper police officers and members of the fire brigade ran into the conference room.
“I think we’ve got it under control,” Stella said to their erstwhile rescuers.
Chief Rogers’s voice was gritty and strained as he demanded, “Where the hell were all of you ten minutes ago?”
“Stella.” Eric was next to her. He’d had Tagger bring her jacket with them.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “We’re okay.”
Kent’s face was white when he looked at her. “I don’t think so, Chief.”
Stella looked down at the rapidly spreading bloodstain on her shirt. “I just had this cleaned.”
Chief Rogers caught her as she fell.
* * *
Three weeks later, Stella was getting ready for her second date with Rufus. Her arm was still a little sore from the bullet that had grazed it. There had been no major damage done though.
Everyone had treated her like an invalid since the event. She’d ignored them for the most part. There were no stitches, but the rules said she had to be off duty until the doctor released her. That was today.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Eric asked when he saw her struggling to get her arm into the jacket sleeve.
“I’m fine. It’s a little stiff, that’s all. Besides, I thought you wanted me to go out and find a husband. I shouldn’t miss this chance with Rufus, right?”
“That’s fine. Now that we know Agent Whitman is put away somewhere and Chief Rogers is your bosom buddy, you should be safe enough. I’m going to work on this new pepper recipe I found in one of the old Sweet Pepper cookbooks my mother left behind.”
“Sounds good. Don’t wait up for me. I might be very late in choosing my appropriate mate.”
“That bullet didn’t slow you down.” Eric manipulated a bowl and the electric mixer out of the cabinet. “Your mythology is starting to get as big as mine.”
She laughed as she headed out the door.
Eric and Hero had been great while she’d recovered. Everyone from town had brought her food until she had to beg them to stop. She couldn’t eat any more and there wasn’t enough room to store it. Most of it had ended up at the firehouse.
Gail Hubbard had taken early retirement. She was injured when Brad Whitman had pushed her car off the road, but she’d recovered. She’d come to see Stella in the hospital, and the two of them had talked for a long time.
“I could put in a recommendation for you to take my place as state arson investigator,” she offered. “It’s a good job—if you can stay out of the politics.”
“Thanks. I’m still getting used to being a chief. I think I need a little more practice.”
Stella and Gail had hugged, carefully since both of them were injured, and parted. Stella didn’t expect to see the other woman again. It was too bad. She was sure there was a lot she could have learned from her.
The night was balmy. It would change quickly as winter set in.
They’d scheduled a test of the new fireboat for the next day. Rufus was supposed to take her out on the boat tonight. She hoped, despite him wanting to show off the improvements, that they could actually take some time to get to know each other.
She pulled the Cherokee into the marina, where the fireboat was docked next to Rufus’s boat. She put on her most winning smile and got out to look for him.
“Rufus?” She stepped onto his boat. He wasn’t there.
She shrugged and went on board the fireboat, admiring the chrome fittings that held the water cannon and the hoses on each side.
“Rufus? Are you here?” She went below, but he wasn’t there either. “Rufus?”
There was no sign of him on either boat. His truck was gone too. Maybe he had an emergency. Cell phone service was always spotty in and around Sweet Pepper. She looked for messages anyway. There was nothing.
So much for the second date
. She realized it was possible that he’d forgotten their date completely. Stella got back in the Cherokee and started the engine. Eric was going to have a field day with this.
She stopped by the firehouse in case Rufus had left a message there for her. Petey and Tagger were playing checkers in the kitchen as they monitored communications. They’d heard nothing from Rufus either.
“Stay and have some root beer floats with us, Chief,” Tagger invited. “I’ll beat Petey at this in a couple of minutes. I think people have forgotten how to play regular games instead of those Internet games.”
“Thanks, but I’m going home and having an early night. Good luck, Petey. I don’t think there’s anyone that can beat Tagger at checkers.”
“Chief Gamlyn always beat me,” Tagger whispered to Stella with a wink and a smile. “You should challenge him sometime. He’ll show you.”
Stella went back to the Cherokee. She yawned as she drove up Firehouse Road. Three deer ran across the road in front of her. She waited a moment in case more followed. It was still a thrill to see wildlife after living in the city, but frightening too after hearing stories about the animals jumping in front of vehicles.
The light was on at the front porch, but the door didn’t open as Stella approached. That was odd.
Eric must be so caught up in his new recipe that he doesn’t even notice I’m back.
Two men forgetting about her in one night might be a little much for her ego.
Hero was sleeping in the middle of the kitchen floor. She called his name, but he didn’t move.
“Hero?” She shook him, but he stayed asleep. She checked his pulse. It was slow. So was his heartbeat.