Home Fires (11 page)

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Irene smiled across the bed at Lil. “See what you missed, not having children? Isn’t she the most wonderful daughter?”

“The best,” Lil confirmed as she winked at Rose. “Go on now, off with you. Don’t worry about your mama. I’ll sit here with Irene and the two of us can have a nice little chat… about you and that cute fireman.” Lil reached over and gently patted Irene’s hand.

Her mother’s affectionate smile was a bit lopsided. Obviously the painkillers had kicked in again. Rose headed for the door with one last backward glance. Irene’s eyes were finally closed, but Lil hadn’t moved. She sat there, a stalwart beacon and loyal friend. The kind of friend any woman would be blessed to have.

Rose slipped from the room and pulled the door shut behind her.

The fire department was only one block from the downtown business district. Second thoughts began to surface as Rose fed the parking meter. What if he wasn’t working today? She glanced at her watch. It was already past two o’clock. Maybe she should have phoned first. She studied the fire station, an imposing two-story structure of sturdy red brick. No sign of Mike’s truck. Maybe he had parked inside with the fire trucks.

There was only one way to find out.

Rose opened the door on one side of the building and stepped inside. She found herself in a cavernous garage filled with gleaming yellow fire trucks and emergency equipment. She peeked around the trucks, but only silence and oil spots staining the cement floor greeted her.

“Hello?” Her words echoed emptily around her. Why hadn’t she phoned first? Obviously Mike wasn’t here. She’d made the trip for nothing.

She turned to leave when she caught a glimpse of light filtering from a hallway in the far corner of the garage. Rose hesitated, then forced her feet in that direction. A moment later, she found Mike hunched over a layout counter with a thick stack of paperwork spread out before him. Pencil in hand, he stood making notes. Rose waited silently, loathe to disturb him. She hated it when she was at her desk and someone interrupted her when she was obviously busy.

Coming here hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

She started backing up quietly as she could, but the slight movement seemed to have caught his eye. Mike glanced up from the counter.

“Hi.” He looked surprised, though not unhappy, to see her.

“Hi,” she replied. Mike looked scrubbed and fresh, and she caught a pleasant whiff of the lightly scented woodsy aftershave he wore. Casually dressed in jeans and t-shirt, he looked more like the relaxed, easygoing man with whom she’d shared a park bench and sandwiches than the grim fireman she’d left behind at the fire scene last night. It was only when she stepped closer that Rose finally noticed the weary look about his face and the telltale circles beneath his eyes.

She’d bet her law license he hadn’t gone to bed last night.

“I’m sorry. I guess I should have called first,” she said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“No need to apologize.” The warm smile on his face encouraged her to continue. “I’m glad you stopped by.” He put down his pencil and leaned against the counter. “I tried calling you earlier. I felt bad about the way things ended last night.”

“Me, too.” She flashed him a small smile. “It was fun driving around in your truck… until that monitor went off.”

He gave a rueful grin. “Seems like that always happens, especially when you least expect it.”

Was that regret she saw in his eyes?

Mike cleared his throat. “You managed to get a ride home okay?”

Rose nodded. “Charles Kendall brought me back into town.” She rolled her eyes at the memory. If Lil thought the Judge was a tightwad, she needed to spend a little time with Charles. His current car was a clunker and hadn’t wanted to start, but he’d finally managed to get the engine running. Their long drive home had proved three miles of cumbersome conversation. Charles, always the inherent newspaperman, was a stickler when it came to digging out the facts. He’d pressed hard for any and all details about her life—home, work, and love life.

“How well do you know that guy?”

Rose caught the fleeting glance of uncertainty in Mike’s eyes.

“Charles? His family moved to town the summer before we started high school.” She hesitated. “Why?”

“The two of you seemed pretty comfortable together last night.” A small frown caught between his eyebrows. “Are you seeing each other?”

Rose burst out laughing. She’d rebuffed Charles for so many years, the idea of them as a couple seemed ludicrous. “Are you asking that question in an official capacity?” she teased.

Mike’s face reddened. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. That’s your business, not mine.”

His reaction startled her. Did Mike actually think she was dating Charles? Better to set the record straight right now than to give him the wrong impression.

“I have never been interested in Charles Kendall and I never will be, no matter what anyone says—
especially
Charles.”

Mike brushed her comments aside with a quick shrug. “Like I said before, that’s your business, not mine.”

She felt her cheeks redden. For a moment, she’d thought he had a personal interest in asking, but now she wasn’t certain. When it came to dealing with matters of the law, she always felt so competent. How could she feel so clueless involving matters of the heart?

Mike picked up his discarded pencil. The look on his face suddenly was all businesslike. “I’m glad you stopped by. I’m the arson investigator for this district and I have a couple questions for you about last night’s fire.”

Rose frowned. “You want to question me? I don’t know anything about that fire. What could I possibly tell you?”

“You probably know more than you think. You and I were first on the scene.”

“All right,” she reluctantly agreed. Being interviewed as a witness wasn’t a role she was accustomed to playing. In her line of work, she usually was the one asking the questions.

He pointed down the narrow hallway to an open door. “The chief isn’t here today. We can talk in his office.”

It appeared she had no choice. Warily Rose followed him down the hallway and through the open door.

CHAPTER SIX

FIRE LEVELS CONDOS

____________________________________

By: Charles Kendall

The James Bay Journal

____________________________________

Another mystery blaze last night destroyed the nearly completed condominium project north of town. James Bay fire fighters rushed to the scene after smoke was spotted by a passing motorist. Fire crews managed to prevent the flames from spreading to the neighboring wooded area.

Assistant Fire Chief Michael Gallagher said the cause of the fire had not yet been established. An investigation unit will be searching the scene this morning. When asked by this reporter, Officer Gallagher declined to comment on the rumor circulating around town that the blaze is the latest in a series of arson fires plaguing our community. No suspects have yet been named.

The Bay Ridge condominium development project was owned by former Circuit Court Judge Harvey James.

____________________________________

The chief’s office was dwarfed by a cluttered desk and overflowing file cabinets. Two chairs, both stacked high with fire magazines, faced the desk.

“Chief Thompson’s not much for housekeeping.” Mike quickly cleared one of the chairs by piling magazines in a corner of the room.

Rose perched gingerly on the chair and watched with a wary eye as Mike took a seat in the battered wooden chair behind the chief’s desk. A hot blush seared her cheeks from his words moments earlier. She prided herself at being a quick read when it came to people, but she’d been wrong about him. How could she have thought he was interested in her? Officer Gallagher had made it quite clear he was interested in one thing and one thing only: investigating last night’s fire.

“I’m not sure how much help I can be.”

Mike’s eyes were intent, flashing all business. “Just tell me what you remember. What the scene was like, who was there. Anything that seemed out of the ordinary.”

“
Everything
about that fire was out of the ordinary.” Rose shifted in her chair, remembering. Merely thinking about it gave her shivers. She hugged herself tight, trying to chase away the chill. Last night’s smoke had been a seething monster, sucking the air dry, suffocating anyone and anything in its path.

“We’ve determined the fire was deliberately set.”

“You mean it
was
arson?” Rose felt the goose bumps rise on her arms and the hair prickle on the back of her neck. The true scope of their discussion was growing clearer. Mike wasn’t merely asking questions about a fire. He was conducting an investigation involving a working crime scene.

“There’s a good chance whoever set that fire was in the crowd. You saw the people out there last night. Tell me what you remember.”

Rose shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Not much. There were so many people…” The memory of last night’s inferno was seared in her mind, but the crowd was a different matter. Nearly the entire town had turned out to witness the blaze. Who did she remember? Everyone and no one.

“Just think about it,” he urged. “What’s that phrase?
The devil is in the details
. And you have a built-in eye for details, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Not sure exactly, but Rose had the sudden feeling she was about to find out.

“People in your line of work have a way of getting at the truth. Especially when the truth suits their clients’ interests.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “You know I’m an attorney?”

Mike shrugged. “This is a small town, remember? Pretty hard to keep a secret. Yes, I know you’re a lawyer. And to tell you the truth, I’m doing my best to overlook that fact.”

Rose felt the blush ride high on her cheeks. She’d tried to keep her professional life from him but he’d known the truth all along. Law enforcement—police, fire, and first responders—tended to view matters in black and white and she’d butted heads with plenty of them when they took the witness stand. It was a love-hate relationship between attorneys and law enforcement, with many of them accusing her colleagues of setting up smokescreens and shielding their clients from successful prosecution within the law’s subtle shades of gray.

How had Mike found out? A sudden suspicion came to mind. “Charles told you, didn’t he?”

“In a roundabout way.” His face crinkled in a wary smile. “It was in the newspaper a few days ago.” Mike sat back in his chair. “How well do you know the Judge? Think there’s any chance he might have been involved?”

Rose stiffened. He couldn’t be serious. “If you’re implying that the Judge set that fire…”

“Whoa, hold on a minute,” he said. “I’d suggest you be very careful about putting words in my mouth. I’m not accusing anyone.” He shot her a stern look. “Yet.”

The chief’s cramped office wasn’t air-conditioned. Rose felt her temper rising faster than the heat rising between them. “Then what exactly did you mean? Because it certainly seems like that’s the direction you’re headed in.”

Mike blew out a hard breath. “I’m not going to lie to you. Naturally the Judge is a suspect. He owns the property. That’s the first place we start in an investigation.” His eyes narrowed. “From what I understand, he recently took out a hefty insurance policy.”

“Everyone has insurance. I don’t see why you think that should bring him under more suspicion,” she argued. “In fact, I’d think it would be odder if he
didn’t
have insurance.”

Mike shrugged slightly. “You can’t alter facts. The Judge owned those buildings and they were deliberately torched.”

She felt her face tighten. “There is
no way
he set that fire.”

“Really?” The look on his face told her he wasn’t convinced. “Because…?”

“Because he didn’t, that’s why.” Rose flopped back in her chair and shot him an exasperated look. What was the matter with him? He didn’t need to be so stubborn about it. “What you’re suggesting is impossible. The Judge would never do something like that.”

“Sounds like you know him pretty well.”

“I’ve lived next door to him since I was two years old when we moved into my grandmother’s house. Why, the Judge
is
this town. James Bay was settled by his ancestors. The town was named after his great grandfather.”

Mike’s eyebrows lifted. “Know why he isn’t on the bench anymore?”

“You can blame that on this town, too.” Rose gripped her hands together. “He was appointed to the bench when his son Jeff and I were in middle school. The sitting Circuit Court judge had died and the Judge was chosen to fill the vacancy. He ran for election himself when the term ended and he sat for a few years. But when Jeff…”

Abruptly she broke off. The last thing she wanted was to be having this conversation. There’d never been any need to speak of it aloud. Everyone in town knew the story and how it ended.

Everyone but Mike.

His eyes locked on hers in a bold stare, refusing to release her.

Rose took a deep breath. “His son Jeff was my best friend and we grew up together. We were only kids when we both decided we would be lawyers, just like Jeff’s dad. We had everything planned out: four years of college followed by law school at the Judge’s alma mater. Then back home to James Bay, where we would practice law together. At least, those were our plans… until…”

She broke off, stared down at her hands. She hadn’t talked about any of this in so long. Telling the story left her oddly unshaken. Maybe it would be better not to say more. But Mike wanted the truth? She’d tell him.

“Jeff died,” she said in a flat tone. “His mother found him dead in bed. He was only seventeen.”

Even after all these years, it was still hard to believe. High school seniors simply didn’t die in their sleep. Jeff had been there from the beginning, always just next door. They’d gone from tricycles to bicycles together, then moved on to cars. They’d received their letters of acceptance from the University of Michigan only the week before he died. Jeff’s letter had been right there on his bedroom desk for all the world to see. Three days later it sat framed on display at the funeral home on the small table next to his casket. Jeff’s death had sent her world tilting crazily out of control. How could she go on without him?