Home Fires (15 page)

“Cecilia Rose? Let’s get your mama settled in a chair and then you can bring out the drinks.”

Lil held the screen door wide open as the three of them headed onto the front porch. Rose fussed with her mother’s favorite wicker chair, plumping the pillows behind Irene’s back, gently propping up her leg on cushions as per the doctor’s orders.

So many things to remember. Rose held back a sigh as she finally sank down in her own chair. Pills, pain, physical therapy. Some people devoted their entire lives to serving as a caretaker for someone else. How could they make such a sacrifice? How did you turn aside your own longings and desires? Feelings couldn’t be shut off like a water faucet. Eventually the leaks would spring up somewhere. She’d be forced to rely on the expertise of a master plumber.

“How many fireworks do you figure we’ve watched together all these years?” Lil asked from her chair.

Irene’s eyes squinted tight. “Too many for me to count. We’re two old ladies, remember?”

“Excuse me? Did you call us
old ladies
?”

“You heard me,” Irene replied with a quick wink for Rose.

“Speak for yourself.” Lil straightened in her chair and fussed with the vivid silk scarf of red, white, and blue draping her shoulders. “I’m not ready for an assisted-living home yet.”

“Well, given the shape I’m in, that might be where I’m headed. And last time I checked my calendar, you and I were the same age,” Irene smartly replied.

Rose smiled as she caught the undertone of affection in her mother’s voice. The two women had been bantering for as long as she could remember.

“Cecilia Rose? Move my chair a little bit closer to the edge, would you, sweetheart? I want to be able to see tonight’s fireworks nice and clear.”

“I think you’re already close enough, Mom. We don’t want you falling down the steps.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Irene snorted. “There’s lots of room to move this chair, at least another good three or four inches. If you don’t, that tree limb will be in my way.” Irene pointed toward the front yard and the offending braches.

“We are not moving your chair,” Rose firmly replied.

“I think someone’s learning what it’s like to be a mother,” Lil said. She shot Rose a fond glance. “Go on, honey, and do what your mama says. She won’t fall off the porch. And if she does, she’ll get over it. You know your mother. She’s a tough old bird.”

“For goodness sake, would everyone quit worrying about me?” Irene’s voice edged with irritation. “I’m already so full of metal with all these staples and titanium in my knee, I doubt a little tumble off the porch would kill me. Besides, there’ll be lots of people around here soon enough. No doubt someone will pick me up and stick me right back in my chair, good as new.”

“What about that cute fireman of yours?” Lil glanced over at Rose with interest. “I’m sure he’s nice and strong. Is he coming to our little shindig tonight?”

“I’m not sure,” she carefully replied. “Mike has to work.”

She had no guarantee he would show up tonight, and she’d already decided it was best not to think about it. If he showed, fine. But if he didn’t? Well, she’d deal with the disappointment if and when that happened. It would be easier to handle if she didn’t dwell on it now.

“That one is a real charmer, honey,” Lil said. “If I were any younger, I’d go after him myself.”

“I like your Michael.” Irene settled back in her chair with a wistful smile. “He reminds me of your father.”

“Mom, you have to quit calling him
my Michael
,” Rose replied. “You’re only saying that because of his name.”

“That may be true, but there’s something about him that I like very much,” Irene said. “He’s a nice young man, sweetheart. Very nice.”

“You could do worse, young lady.
Much
worse.” Lil wagged a manicured finger at Rose. “That fireman is a definite keeper and I’d make a move quick, if I were you. You’ll only be in town for a few weeks. I say make a play for him fast before some other girl catches his eye.”

“For heaven’s sake, Lil, let Cecilia Rose be,” Irene said firmly. “She’s old enough to make up her own mind. She doesn’t need the two of us giving advice on how to run her love life.”

“Who said anything about me being in love with him?”

“Now that you mention it,
you
did,” Irene replied.

Her mother’s words brought a quick rush of color to Rose’s cheeks. “I barely know him. We’ve only gone out to dinner once, and that didn’t really count. It was only a picnic.”

Sandwiches down at the waterfront, but she hadn’t cared. Being with Mike was satisfying in its own way. It nourished her on some inner level she hadn’t even realized needed to be fed—until now.

“Picnics can be more fun than sitting in some stuffy restaurant,” Lil said with a breezy wave of her hand. Diamonds flashed on her fingers in the setting sun. “It all depends on the person you’re with. And let me tell you, honey, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I might not know much about some things, but there’s one thing I
do
know and that is
men
. And that fireman is definitely interested in you, whether you know it or not. Heavens, he might not even know it himself.”

“Lil, that’s enough,” Irene said, clucking her dismay. “It doesn’t matter what you or I think. Cecilia Rose is quite capable of making up her own mind about dating Michael.” She flashed a sweet smile in Rose’s direction. “I’m getting rather thirsty. Would you please bring out the iced tea?”

“I thought we were having martinis. Cecilia Rose, why don’t you fix us up a pitcher?”

“You’ll be sloshed if you drink martinis all by yourself,” Irene said. “I’m still taking my medication.”

“Well, the Judge will be here soon. And Rose’s fireman looks like he might just be a martini man, too.”

Rose made a hasty escape for the kitchen. If the topic of conversation didn’t change soon, she’d be diving into the martini pitcher herself. The last thing she needed was her mother and Lil speculating about Mike when he showed up tonight.

If
he showed up.

CHAPTER EIGHT

REWARD OFFERED FOR INFORMATION

LEADING TO PROSECUTION OF ARSONIST

____________________________________

The James Bay Journal

____________________________________

JAMES BAY—The Chamber of Commerce is offering a $1,000 reward to anyone providing information that leads to the capture and successful prosecution of the person responsible for the arsons plaguing our community. Contact the James Bay Police Department or Assistant Fire Chief Michael Gallagher for more information.

____________________________________

“Weren’t the fireworks beautiful? I like the ones that flutter down in little gold sparkles. They’re so pretty. They look like fairy dust coming straight from heaven.”

“I bet our dog is under the bed. He hates those shells that explode in loud booms. Why they throw away money on something noisy that you can’t even see is beyond me.”

Muted strains of conversation wafted on the late night breeze as people started for home. The snack bowl supplies were nearly wiped out and the iced tea, lemonade, and martini pitchers had long since been drained. The front porch had been crowded all evening long with friends and neighbors, but the end of the firework display heralded the beginning of sleepy goodnights. Finally the porch emptied out, save for a few stragglers. Even Irene had gone in to bed. Rose couldn’t keep her gaze from wandering to the one chair that had remained conspicuously empty all night long. Was Mike still on fire duty? There’d been no mishaps, no misfired shells or emergency scenarios, but he had never shown up. Only the Judge, Charles Kendall, and Tommy Gilbert still lingered on the porch, keeping her company on the hot summer night.

“Well, I suppose I will say good-night.” The Judge stubbed out his cigar and reached for his jacket on the back of his chair.

“You’re leaving, too?” Of all the people still surrounding her, the Judge was the only one she wished would stay. There was still a slim chance Mike might appear, and all night she’d been hoping to bring the two of them together. Once Mike got to know the Judge, surely he would drop this nonsense about her old friend being a suspect in the arson investigation. All the two of them needed was a chance to talk in a neutral setting. She couldn’t think of a more perfect place than her own front porch.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I need to go home and pack.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Rose frowned.

“I’m flying to California tomorrow. My sister is ill.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” No wonder the Judge looked so haggard and careworn. First the condominium fires and now his sister was sick. She gave him a tight hug, holding on for an extra minute. “Take care of yourself, promise?” Rose whispered in his ear.

He patted her back. “I’ll only be gone a few days. We’ll talk when I get back.” He kissed her forehead and waved briefly at Charles Kendall and Tommy Gilbert. “Gentlemen, good evening to you both.”

The cherry-red pickup pulled up in front of the house as the Judge started down the porch steps. Rose’s heartbeat quickened as Mike parked the truck and opened the door. Maybe it wasn’t too late after all.

“Sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” Mike said as he headed up the walk. A bulky paper sack was tucked under one arm. “The chief’s wife was sick and he couldn’t make it downtown tonight.”

“You’re here now, that’s what counts.” There was no need to force a smile to her face. She could feel it already firmly in place.

The Judge nodded at Mike. “Officer, I’ve been meaning to contact you. Have you any new information for me?”

Mike shook his head. “I’m sorry, Judge, I wish I did. We’re still investigating.”

“Certainly you must have some idea by now of who’s to blame?” Charles spoke up from his chair next to Rose. “The Judge would like some answers and so would the reading public. How long do you expect us to wait?”

“As long as it takes.” The porch lamp’s cast a dim shadow across Mike’s face.

“What’s so difficult about figuring out who set a fire?” Charles shot back.

“It all depends on the evidence you find at the fire scene.”

Rose caught the strained look of annoyance briefly cross Mike’s face as he sank down across from Tommy Gilbert on the top porch step. He reached for the nearly empty bowl of corn chips and popped a few in his mouth before continuing. “Lots of times the evidence gets destroyed when the fire gets out of control. Take that abandoned boat warehouse down by the harbor. That place is like a tinderbox. If it ever caught fire, we’d never be able to save it. We’ve already requested permission for a controlled burn.”

“I’m merely trying to satisfy our readers,” Charles said. “People want to know. You should have some answers by now.”

“Arson is a difficult crime to prove,” Mike repeated. “It doesn’t pay to rush this kind of investigation. You can’t just look at the fire scene. Motivation is a big factor. Why does someone start a fire?”

“The first thing I would think would be for revenge.” A frown bordered Rose’s face even as she spoke the words. They were talking about the condo fires… but who would hold a grudge against the Judge? The man didn’t have any enemies. Who would want to see him harmed?

“I think it’s obvious we’re dealing with a pyromaniac,” Charles said with a challenging stare for Mike. “Have you considered that idea, Officer Gallagher?”

Rose’s eyes narrowed sharply as she took in her old school nemesis. Charles seemed to be deliberately baiting Mike, a behavior she recognized from their days back in high school. He always acted like that when things didn’t go his way, and he hadn’t changed much throughout the years.

She made a mental note to self to skip their next class reunion.

“I’m sure Mike is investigating all the leads, Charles,” she said. “He doesn’t need you telling him how to do his job.”

“What about the insurance money?” Tommy Gilbert piped up. “My brother Joey said lots of people set their own stuff on fire, just for the money.”

Tommy’s words made her cringe. The last thing she wanted Mike hearing was that people thought the Judge needed money. Rose shot the boy a sharp look, but Tommy seemed oblivious.

“You’re forgetting something, Tommy,” Rose chose her words carefully. “Setting a fire for personal profit is a dangerous sport. Someone would really have to need the money for them to take a chance like that.”

She threw Mike a cautious glance. Hopefully he’d taken the hint. The Judge was more than financially solvent. His Honor was loaded. He had no reason to burn those condos to the ground.

Mike shrugged in the shadows. “Every one of the fires has been different. It’s going to take some time and every available resource to help us solve the crimes.”

“What about you, sir?” Charles turned his attention to the Judge. “You must have taken quite a hit in the wallet when those buildings went up in smoke. The condos were nearly completed. Another month or so and they would have been rented. You must want to know exactly who’s to blame. Or perhaps there’s some reason you’d prefer the criminal investigation be delayed… or not solved at all?”

The Judge’s eyes glistened like two black marbles. “Young man, are you insinuating that I had reason to gain from that fire? Construction at that condo site was costing me considerable money every single day. Why would I want those buildings destroyed?”

“Precisely my question, sir. Why would you?” Even in the dim porch light, Charles’s eyes gleamed with speculation.

“Charles, you have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rose waded into the mud being slung. “You know as well as I do that the Judge had nothing to do with that fire.”

“I resent your allegations, Mr. Kendall.” The Judge’s face flushed dark with anger. “I warn you to be very careful. There are laws against libel in this state. You could have a lawsuit on your hands if any of this were to be printed.”

“The
Journal
only prints the truth,” Charles replied with a cool stare. “We’ve begun our own investigation. Our newspaper has an obligation to the community.
Someone
needs to solve these crimes.” He shot a hard glance in Mike’s direction.