The River Rolls On (Bellingwood Book 10) (23 page)

"Yeah," she said with a chuckle. "I was such a busy girl. Work, work and more work. All those nights clubbing and partying. You would never have been able to keep up with me."

"It was more than you do here. You're almost boring."

She swung as far as the seatbelt would let her move. "This is not my normal life. I'm stuck inside because of a couple of psychopaths. I am not boring. And I love my life. Every bit of it."

"Leave her alone," Ray said. "It isn't like you are some great playboy. For all your mouth, you're over at Mom's house more often than not."

"That's just because she cooks for me."

"Uh huh ... you're a mama's boy."

"She'd like to see
you
more often," Jon said.

"I'm there every Sunday unless I'm out of town. That's enough."

"Boys, stop it. The turn is just down this hill. You don't want to miss it," Polly interrupted. "Though I'm surprised to hear that Jon isn't out every night trying to find his next girlfriend." She turned and smirked at him.

"I wish," he muttered.

Polly grabbed the door handle as Ray negotiated the path leading to the river. Signs announced that it wasn't maintained and they weren't kidding. The middle was washed out and had it not been dry, this would have been a very foolish thing to do. Ray pulled off onto a level area and said, "Well. That was exciting. I'm glad we have the Jeep. At least I know we'll get back out."

Cars flew by on the bridge overhead as Jon opened Polly's door again.

"I'm not sure where to begin," she said. "I haven't ever been here before."

Ray started forward. "Let's check the river first. We can wander the rest of this later. I can't tell if any of these tire tracks are recent, but if people fish from here or get off the river with their canoes, we couldn't tell the difference."

Polly stumbled and reached forward to balance herself, brushing against his back. He stopped and offered his hand.

"I've got it," she said. "It was just a rock in the way."

"You're still angry with me, aren't you?"

"No. I'm not angry."

"You don't trust me, though," he said.

"Nope," she said, pursing her lips together. "I don't."

"You know I'll keep you safe."

"I trust you with that, but I pretty much think you're slime."

"I was just doing my job."

"Uh huh, that's what the Nazi soldiers said. You can justify whatever you have to justify. You should have talked to me, but you didn't trust me." She caught her foot on a branch and stopped in her tracks, trying to hold on to her balance.

"You might want to watch where you're going," he said.

"You might want to shove it where it will hurt," she replied.

They reached the water's edge and she looked across the river and then up along the banks on both sides. Polly stood still for a few minutes, trying to see everything in front of her at once, then she decided to take it more slowly and scan the area in sections. When she realized there was nothing there, she turned to the bridge abutment.

"I'm just going to slide behind here," she said. "I'll be right back. I want to look on the other side of the river."

"Jon?" Ray said. "Go with her."

"How long are you going to punish him?" Jon asked as they crawled through the brush.

"I thought I was over it," she said. "I don't think I'm really that mad."

"Then what was that about?"

"Sometimes he is such a big brother. All helpful and stuff. I think it ticked me off." Polly started to laugh. "I'm an independent cuss, aren't I. Dad always said that was going to get me into trouble. I drive Henry crazy with it, too. Why should I let someone else do what I can do?"

Jon jumped down to a clearing and held out his hand. Polly took it and jumped down beside him.

"That wasn't so difficult, was it?" He bowed at the waist.

"So it's just Ray that annoys me," she said, laughing. "I'm horrible. I'll apologize when we get back."

"Do you see anything?" he asked, gesturing out at the river.

Polly took her time and scanned sections of this side of the bridge. She looked back into the field behind her and didn't see anything. With a sigh, she said, "No. Nothing. I feel so bad."

"Stop it. The day isn't over yet."

"But Ray is right. That family should have their daughter back."

Jon clambered back up the little hill and then held his hand out to help Polly pull herself up. She grabbed the exposed roots of a nearby tree to give herself extra momentum and when it pulled out of the sand, she and Jon both tumbled back down.

"Damn it," he said.

"I'm so sorry! I tugged on it and thought it was strong enough. Are you okay?" Polly crawled over to him.

"No, I wasn't swearing at you. I ripped my shirt."

"Seriously?"

"It was one of my favorites," he said with a whine.

"Are you two okay over there?" Ray called.

Jon winked at her. "Polly ripped my shirt. She's getting frisky. I think this is starting to get to her."

"If she's going after you, she's lost her mind. Have you found anything?"

"We'd let you know if we found anything." Jon rolled his eyes. "He big-brothers everyone."

Polly picked at the hole in his shirt. "Are you sure you didn't get hurt?" she asked. "I shouldn't have trusted that root."

He brushed her hand away. "I'm fine. Stop it. But I'll let you go first this time."

She pulled her way up the hill and then put her hand out for him.

"I think I'll do this one on my own," Jon said. "Go on ahead. I'm right behind you."

Polly climbed back through and stopped to wait for Jon. She leaned against the bridge. "This feels like an old fairy tale. Billy Goats Gruff and the trolls under the bridge."

"We're the trolls?" Jon asked.

She shrugged. "Something like that." Polly dropped her head and ran her fingers back through her hair.

"You okay?" Ray asked.

"I'm fine. And I'm sorry I was so prickly. I'm really not mad at you."

He nodded as Jon stepped in beside her.

"We okay here?" Jon asked.

Polly looked back the way they came. "I can't believe she's not here. I have no other idea of where to look. We might as well just go back to Sycamore House. I'm useless."

She took a deep breath and stretched her neck, rolling her shoulders. "Damn it, no I'm not," she said.

"What?" Ray asked.

"Look up there. We were looking at the river. She wasn't in the river. They put her in plain sight. I just needed to look up."

At the top of the hill, tucked in under the bridge, they saw the body of the young girl who had been kidnapped.

Jon pulled Polly into a hug. "I can't believe you found her."

"I thought that's why we were here," she said.

"But you really did it."

Ray was walking back up the road, looking at the face of his phone. "No signal," he called back. About halfway up, he stopped and made a call. Then he came back down. "That was Aaron. They'll have everyone here in a few minutes. I told him that I'd stay if you two want to head back. Once those vehicles get in here, we'll never get out."

"I can stay," Jon said.

Ray smiled. "No. I can talk to your friendly FBI agent with authority. You two go back and clean yourselves up. You're a mess. Someone will drop me off later."

Polly hugged him. "Thanks for everything. And I suppose, thanks for believing in me."

"We had to find her. You were our best bet. No one else would have found her under there. Now go, before people start arriving."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Waking to both telephones ringing and the town's sirens sounding, Polly and Henry sat straight up. She tried to make sense of the noise assaulting her. Something inside her clenched. This was bad news.

"What time is it?" Henry asked, fumbling for his phone on the bedside table. He flipped the lamp on and stared at his phone. He seemed just as fuzzy and foggy as she felt.

"I don't know. What's going on?"

"Answer your phone."

She saw that it was a call from Lydia. "Hello?" she said. Henry was talking to someone else on his own phone. Even before Lydia responded, he was out of bed and pulling on his pants, while listening to whomever was on the other end of the call.

"Honey," Lydia said. "Someone torched the coffee shop. That's what the siren is. I thought you'd want to know."

"What?" Polly stammered. "They torched the coffee shop? What time is it?"

"It's after midnight. They're calling out the fire trucks and the volunteers."

Henry was in a shirt when Polly jumped out of bed. "I have to go, Lydia," she said. "I'll talk to you later.

"Lydia?" he asked.

"They have a scanner. She wanted to make sure we knew about the fire. Wait for me. I'm going with you."

He started for the door and turned around. "What about Rebecca?"

"I'll wake her up. She doesn't have school tomorrow. But you aren't going without me."

Polly pulled her jeans and a t-shirt on and slipped into a pair of flip flops before running into Rebecca's bedroom. "Honey?" she said quietly.

"What are the sirens about?" Rebecca asked.

"Can you get up and get dressed quickly? The coffee shop is on fire."

Rebecca jumped up and out of bed. "What should I wear?"

Polly turned her bedside lamp on and said, "I don't care. Jeans and a sweatshirt. Put your shoes on. Henry's waiting."

"Who would set fire to the coffee shop?" Rebecca asked, pulling a pair of jeans out of her drawer. She opened another drawer and drew out a sweater, then sat down on the floor and put her shoes on, lacing them up as quickly as her fingers could move.

"I have no idea. I just want to get downtown and find out what's happening.

Rebecca jumped up and looked around her room. "I don't need anything else, do I?"

"No, I think you're good to go. Come on."

Rebecca's hair was mussed and she was rubbing her eyes as they walked through the living room. She'd had a busy day and Polly had been so thankful when she'd fallen asleep after dinner. The trip with Sal had been successful and while Polly was cleaning up the kitchen, she'd modeled a pretty black dress with white polka-dots. She was smiling as she spun, the skirt lifting in the breeze she created. Sal had given her a much needed distraction.

The dogs were running back and forth from room to room, trying to figure out why everyone was in such a rush. Henry finally picked Han up and put him on one of the sofas. Obiwan sat down and watched as they rushed around.

Rebecca grabbed up her backpack as they headed out. "I might want to draw," she said. "I haven't ever seen a fire before. Is that okay?"

Henry nodded and took the pack from her. "Let's just hurry," he said.

They all ran for the back stairs and down to the garage. Henry opened the garage door as they jumped in and put their belts on.

"We should have just walked," he said. "They probably have the street blocked off."

"Get us as close as you can," Polly said. "We'll walk from there."

He backed out, turned, and drove out of the driveway to the highway, then headed for downtown. People were coming out of buildings and he was right, police cars were blocking Washington Street. Henry pulled into an alley and waited for Polly and Rebecca to jump out and join him. They walked a block and were stopped by Bert Bradford, standing in front of a police car with its lights flashing.

"You can't go any closer," he said, watching the activity up ahead and not paying attention to who he was talking to.

"Bert. It's me. This is my project and Polly's building," Henry said. "You have to let us through."

"Sal's building," Polly muttered.

Henry scowled at her.

"Look, take the alley to the back of the pizza place," Bert said conspiratorially. "Devin's still there. He'll let you in."

"I'll call him," Polly said, taking out her phone as they ran down the sidewalk to the alley. Henry took Rebecca's hand as Polly dialed.

"Hello?" Devin said.

"Hey, it's me, Polly. I'm with Henry and we can't get close. Will you let us in your back door?"

"Come on up. Sal and Mark are here already. I called them after I called the fire department."

Polly wanted to ask more questions, but she knew she was slowing Henry down. She swiped the call closed and ran to keep up with him and Rebecca, glad to see the light from the inside of Pizzazz. Sal was holding the door open as they ran up the steps to the dock and inside.

Sal's face was white with shock and it looked as if she'd been crying. As soon as they were inside, she took Polly's arm, leaning against her for support.

"What the hell?" Polly asked, as they walked through the kitchen to the front of the building.

"I think it was Molotov cocktails," Devin responded. "I saw a couple of guys loitering around while I was cleaning up and then I heard glass breaking and all of a sudden there were flames inside the building. It took me a couple of minutes to get back to the phone, so I didn't see where they went. All I could think was that I had to call someone."

Henry had dropped Rebecca's backpack on a table and walked to the front door. He opened it and the sounds of equipment and people rushed in.

"Where are you going?" Polly asked him.

"I'm going out. You stay here. I'll be back."

Before Polly could focus on the activity outside, her phone rang again. Sylvie was calling.

"Hey Sylvie," she said.

"Where are you? Do you know about the fire?"

"Yeah. I'm in Pizzazz."

"Can I get there?"

"We came in the back door. Call me as you get close and someone will let you in."

"Has the whole building burned down?"

Polly stepped closer to the window. It was hard to see around the trucks and the mass of people, but it looked as if the building was still standing.

"I think it's good. Devin saw it happen, so he called right away."

"How's Sal?" Sylvie asked, then spoke into the background. "They're at Pizzazz. We just have to go down one more block. Quit your whining."

Polly chuckled. "Who's whining?"

"Andrew. He didn't want to get out of bed. But we never have this much excitement in town. I think everyone is out here tonight."

Sal turned and walked back to the table where they usually ate pizza every Sunday evening. She dropped into a chair and put her head in her hands. Mark sat down beside her, stroking her hair. He looked up at Polly and mouthed, "Help me?"

"I'm going to try to take care of Sal," Polly said. "How long until you're here."

"We're just crossing the street."

"Mark?" Polly asked. "Could you let Sylvie and her boys in? They're coming down the alley."

He looked relieved to leave Sal in her hands.

"He'll be at the back door," Polly said and swiped to end the call. She sat down beside her friend. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Why would they burn down my building?" Sal asked in a faint voice.

"I don't know. But we'll deal with this."

"I can't start all over again."

"Don't say that. You can do anything you want." Polly reached out and took Sal's hand. "This isn't the end. I promise."

"Everything's gone," Sal wailed.

Polly spoke quietly, but firmly. "That's not true and you know it. We haven't moved any of the furniture or appliances in. It's just a building. It was insured and it will all work out. We don't know what's going on and that makes this a terrible time for you to be over dramatic. No one knows what to do for you."

Sal looked up and twisted her lips into a pout. "If this isn't a good time for drama, when will it be a good time? Huh? Tell me that, will you?"

"I love you to pieces, Sal Kahane, but this is ridiculous. At least wait until it's over to fall apart."

"You're not very nice."

"Because I won't put up with you feeling sorry for yourself? Especially when we don't have any answers?" Polly shook her head. "I'm sorry, but you need to get over yourself. Now buck up. Sylvie's here and she's less nice than I am about pity parties."

Sal sat up and took a breath as Sylvie rushed in. Jason and Andrew were right on her heels. As soon as Andrew saw Rebecca, he rushed over to sit with her. Jason hung back, watching to see people's reactions.

"Mark told me what happened," Sylvie said. "Can you see in the building yet?"

"I can't," Polly replied. "Don't you think it's good news that we haven't seen flames shooting up into the sky?" She turned to Sal. "And isn't it great news that there wasn't anyone living in the upstairs apartments yet? At least we know that no one is going to lose everything they own and no one is hurt."

"Little Miss Pollyanna," Sal said, mockingly. "Always finding the good in everything."

"Sal Kahane," Sylvie snapped.

"What? My building burned down and she wants me to be happy about it."

"I don't want..." Polly started.

"Stop being selfish," Sylvie interrupted. "We're all in this in one way or other. You haven't even started making payments on the building and I know that it's well insured. Nothing of value has been lost, people are safe. So stop moping around like your world is ending."

"Shit," Sal muttered. "Sorry."

Sylvie walked away and up to the front of Pizzazz. "Hey," she said. "I think it's over already. And here comes Henry."

She stepped back when he came in the front door. "What does it look like over there?" she asked.

"It wasn't as bad as it could have been." He walked over to Devin and put his hand out. Devin shook it. "If you hadn't seen it happen, it could have been much worse. They got here in plenty of time to save the building. We need to make decisions about what to do next, but what could have been devastating just isn't."

Sal had gotten up and come up to join them. She hung back, unsure as to what to say. Finally Mark spoke up. "You think the structure is sound after that?"

Henry nodded. "Whoever did this tossed four Molotov cocktails in through the glass windows. They were idiots, too," he said with a small laugh. "They actually went out and bought four bottles of vodka. It would have been cheaper to use gas, but they used the good stuff."

Rebecca had been watching everything and Polly could tell she had a question.

"What's up, Rebecca?" Polly asked.

"Why would a cocktail burn a building?"

Henry smiled. "A Molotov cocktail. That's different than a mixed drink. With this, they stuff a piece of cloth down into a bottle filled with something flammable. Then they light the cloth and throw it wherever they want the fire to start. The liquid spreads when the glass breaks and the fire takes off."

"Oh!" she said. She and Andrew started whispering back and forth and she went back to her sketching.

Henry watched for a moment, caught Polly's eye and gave her a wink. Then he continued. "The fire was getting going when the first truck arrived. It scorched the floor and did a number on Dad's bar. They hit one of the posts up high and the fire traveled up. I'm not sure about how sound the ceiling is now. We'll get in there to check as soon as it's safe." He turned to Sal. "We might want to talk about opening up the ceiling and getting rid of the apartments. It depends on what you want to do though."

She stayed silent as he spoke, nodding and listening.

"Bad water damage?" Sylvie asked.

"It's not good," Henry responded. "There's going to be a lot of cleanup before we can get started again. The walls are a mess. Jerry will need to come up and tell me what's going on with wiring. But those things will all happen. The good news is that the damage was minimal and it can all be fixed."