Home Fires (9 page)

“You? A fisherman?” he scoffed. “That’s a little hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” she insisted. Her cone was melting and she licked faster to keep pace with the dripping ice cream.

Mike finished off the last of his cone and settled back in his seat, eyeing her with open interest. “Bet you didn’t bait your own hook.”

“You’re wrong about that.” Her voice and spirit rose to the challenge. “I’ll have you know I’ve handled my share of wiggling worms. My dad taught me how when I was only five. I was quite the fisherman… or is it
fisherwoman
?”

“Okay, you win, I take it back,” he said, laughing. “Think you’d be able to bait a hook today?”

“Well, it
has
been awhile since I’ve been out in a boat,” Rose admitted. Some of her favorite childhood memories centered on being out on the lake with her dad in that little fishing boat he’d cherished.

“Where did you supposedly do all this fishing? Somewhere around here, or out in Lake Michigan? “

“It’s a small inland lake not far from town. Mostly we fished for largemouth bass, but we used to catch perch and bluegills, too. I even hooked a turtle once.” She smiled at the sudden memory. “My dad made me throw it back in.”

“If you’re trying to impress me, it’s working.” Mike’s face caught in a lazy grin. “You wouldn’t happen to remember the name of that lake, would you?”

Rose thought hard as she finished off the last of her cone, but came up empty-handed, just like a fisherman at times.

“Sorry, I don’t. All my dad ever said was
Come on, Rosie, we’re going down to the lake
.” She swallowed hard, mingling ice cream cone and a bittersweet longing for the life that had disappeared.

“It’s still pretty early. Are you up for a little ride? We could try and find that little lake you used to fish with your dad.” He suddenly hesitated. “Or maybe you’d rather go home.”

Go home already? No! She didn’t want to go home. Not yet. Not for hours. She’d never expected to have such a good time with him. Being with Mike was just like breathing. She felt different tonight, in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Tonight felt almost like being home inside herself again.

“Sure, I’m game,” she replied. “If I remember right, that lake is only a few miles from downtown.”

He threw the truck in gear and carefully pulled out into traffic.

“Take the hill and then the road heading out of town.” Rose sat back in her seat and licked the last few drops of ice cream from her fingertips as they left the city lights behind for the quiet country darkness. Thoughts of her father and his little fishing boat tugged at her heart. Being home in James Bay, riding around in a pickup truck with another Michael John Gallagher, was bringing back memories.

“I think you would have liked my dad,” she said. “He was a great guy. He taught high school here in town.” His confident attitude, easygoing style, and relaxed, steady wit had made him popular among both staff and students alike. He’d known the name of every student at Bay High School, which was no small feat and amazed even Rose. The hot, hazy days of summer usually found him in the passenger seat of the local driver’s ed car. She’d grown up hearing
Your dad taught me how to drive
from most townspeople anywhere near her age.

“He sounds like a great guy.”

“The two of you even have something in common,” she said with a shy smile. “You’ve got the same name.”

“
Mr. Gallagher
?” He pulled his gaze from the road long enough to flash her a quick grin.

Rose shook her head softly. “His name was Michael, too.”

Mike’s head cocked in the dim green glow of the pickup’s dashboard. His grin was gone, replaced by a thoughtful smile. “Michael Gallagher. Sounds familiar.”

“Michael John Gallagher,” she added quietly.

He shot her a hard glance. “That’s some coincidence,” he finally said.

“Maybe not such a coincidence. It’s a strong name. One that can stand on its own… just like the man who wears it. It suited my dad.” Rose hesitated. Her voice was low when she finally spoke. “I think it suits you, too.”

For a moment only silence hung between them.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said after a long moment.

“Good, because I meant it as one,” she softly replied.

A furious beeping shattered the darkness. Rose sat up sharply as Mike gave the wheel a hard yank and pulled the truck over to one side of the road. The green glow from the cab’s dashboard cast an eerie light in the truck’s interior as Mike grabbed the pager from its spot on the bench between them. Rose tried hard to follow the electronic chatter. Mike’s face was drawn with quiet intensity as they listened to a woman’s voice flooding the cab.

“What is it? What’s happening?” Rose finally dared to ask.

“That’s central dispatch, 911. We’re being paged out to a fire.” With a quick pull on the wheel, Mike turned the truck around. Gravel crunched and flew as he pointed the pickup in the direction from which they’d come.

“A fire? But where?” She’d heard the same 911 page but most of the information had sounded like static.

“About a mile from here.” His face was all business. “Sorry, but it looks like you’ll have to come along. We’re closer to the scene than we are downtown.”

“But…”

Mike reached down on the console and threw a switch. The outside of the cab lit up, illuminated by brilliant flashing red and white emergency strobe lights.

“Hang on,” he said. “We’re going for a ride.”

CHAPTER FIVE

FIREWORKS PRONOUNCED “DANGEROUS”

____________________________________

By: Charles Kendall

The James Bay Journal

____________________________________

JAMES BAY—The annual Fourth of July celebration may not prove much of a bang if local fire officials have their way. This reporter recently learned that Fire Chief Ivan Thompson is lobbying businesses that sell fireworks not to display them.

“People need to understand we’re dealing with extreme fire conditions,” Chief Thompson said. “Fireworks might be legal, but we don’t want a situation getting out of hand. Until we get some good steady rain, the last thing we want is somebody shooting off something that could spark a flame.”

An informal poll of local business owners indicates there are no current plans to pull fireworks from any store shelves in James Bay.

____________________________________

Rose had the eerie sense of being caught up in hell on earth as Mike’s truck pulled up on the country roadside a safe distance from the blaze. Huge flames erupted in brilliant scarlet streaks against the night sky and thick black smoke rolled from the sprawling two-story framed structures. The heat was intense, staggering in awesome power. Billowing waves of acrid fumes pushed toward them. The stench caught in her throat as Mike threw open his truck door and slid out. He grabbed his fire gear stowed behind the driver’s seat and slammed the door.

“Stay in the truck.” He threw her a stern glance through the open window. “You’ll be safe enough in here. I have to set up a fire command.”

She would be safe enough—but what about him?
Don’t panic.
Rose swallowed down a growing fear as she watched him head straight toward the flames. Mike knew what he was doing, she silently repeated in a low mantra. He was a trained professional. This was what he did for a living. But laying down fire hose and knocking back a blazing inferno certainly was a different job than the cool, sterile world of jurisprudence she lived in.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Within moments the scene was a complicated tangle of fire trucks, emergency equipment, and huge looming floodlights illuminating the site. Rose watched from the safety of the truck as dozens of men clad in fire gear and helmets materialized from nowhere, swarming the scene and laying fire hose.

She’d lost track of Mike. Some of the firemen had donned air packs and were headed toward the structure. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching in vain. Hopefully Mike wasn’t near the front of that roaring inferno or one of those men with an air pack strapped on his back. His monitor was still on the bench beside her. She picked it up and hugged it tight against her chest as she kept up her watch. Minutes ago, they’d been eating ice cream, swapping fish tales, and now they were in the middle of a scene straight out of hell.

Cars lined the narrow country road. A party atmosphere, fueled by the flame’s intensity, rapidly developed as more people arrived each moment. The gathering crowd of onlookers grew as the flames shot higher against the night sky. Rose shifted nervously inside the cab of Mike’s truck. How had everyone known? Where had they come from? The fire was miles from downtown. Were the flames high enough to be seen from James Bay?

“Stay back! Everybody stay back,” a fireman called out from his post near the truck. Even with his gear on, he seemed familiar. Rose craned her neck and watched for a moment before recognition finally set in. She’d seen him with Mike at another fire, the one at the hospital that had proved merely a false alarm. But tonight was no false alarm. This fire was a raging inferno.

“Cecilia? I thought that was you.”

A familiar voice burned into her consciousness. She offered a nervous smile through the open window. “Hi, Charles.”

“What are you doing out here?” Charles Kendall’s eyebrows bunched together in a frown. He shot a quick glance at the emergency lights flashing on the top of Mike’s truck.

“I guess I’m like everybody else in town… here to see the fire.” Rose scanned the swelling crowd held back by law enforcement. So many familiar faces, neighbors and folks from town, drawn by the excitement. If she wasn’t witnessing it with her very own eyes, she never would have guessed so many people would come out to gawk at someone else’s misfortune. “Where have they all come from?” she whispered. “How did they know?”

“I imagine lots of them have scanners, like I do,” Charles said. “When you’re a member of the press, you’ve got to get to the action quick.” His frown deepened. “Whose truck is this? Are you here with somebody?”

“Hey, Cecil!” A familiar voice called out nearby. Rose looked up to see Tommy Gilbert struggling through the crowd.

“I heard the sirens and followed the fire trucks from downtown,” Tommy said as he finally reached Mike’s truck. His gaze was riveted on the flames before them, which the firemen were attacking with huge powerful streams of water. “What’s going on? Do you guys know what happened?”

“Someone driving by saw the fire and called it in,” Charles replied. “Looks like it will be a total loss. Too bad. These condos were nearly finished. Wonder if he’ll be able to rebuild? I suppose that depends on the insurance.”

Years of practice had accustomed her to tuning out Charles’s voice, but something he said snagged Rose’s attention. Someone else had been talking about condos recently… condominiums that were nearly finished and would soon be ready for occupancy.

“It sure doesn’t look like there’s going to be much left,” Tommy agreed. “Man, look at that!”

An immense wall of flames shot up from inside the blazing structure as the second story gave way. The sky erupted in a cascade of burning sparks as the top of the building crashed down upon the first floor. A firestorm of glowing embers floated high above their heads, tingeing the air they breathed.

Where was Mike? Was he all right? Rose pressed the monitor closer against her heart and scanned the faces of the nearby firemen working the scene. She recognized no one except the Judge.

The Judge! He was right there at the edge of the fire line, his face a mask of concern and disbelief as he held forth in earnest conversation with a group of firemen. With a start, Rose realized one of the firemen conferring with the Judge was Mike.

Bits and pieces from the conversation she’d had some nights earlier with the Judge streamed to mind. He had sat there eating barbequed ribs and offered her a partnership. His suggestion had caught her off guard and she had barely listened as he mentioned his real estate deals. She watched with a sickened heart as heavy deluge guns sprayed water and knocked down the wall of fire. These condo units were owned by the Judge. It was his investment deal that had gone up in smoke and flames tonight. The smoke changed color as the flames subsided. Rolling clouds of heavy black misted into thick white steam.

Mike returned to the truck several moments later. His face was dirty under the white helmet. Soot stained his cheeks and disappeared down the side of his neck. His eyes were dark, shadowed with fatigue.

“You two know each other?” Charles’s face wore a look of suspicious disbelief.

Mike pulled off heavy fire gloves. Ignoring Charles, his gaze centered solely on Rose. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she reassured him. “But what about you?” She hated being there and wanted to go home, but not if it meant leaving him behind. The air was heavy, hot with smoke. It was bad enough just sitting there in his truck. Her lungs felt cloudy, trapped with acrid smoke. Enough smoke that she wanted to gag. But Mike seemed fine, as if it didn’t bother him. How could he do it? He had been right there in the thick of things as he worked the fire line.

“Do you think you could find a ride back to town?” he asked. “Looks like I’m going to be here awhile.” He opened the truck’s passenger door.

“I’ll take you home, Cecilia.”

“Thanks, Charles,” she reluctantly agreed. Rose reached for her purse and quickly slid out of the truck and onto the gravel roadside. Scanning the crowd for the Judge, she finally spotted him close to the fire scene, still deep in heated conversation with some of the uniformed personnel.

“I’m sorry to do this to you,” Mike said, “but I can’t leave. We’ll probably be out here at least another two or three hours. The fire marshal is on his way.”

“You think this fire might be arson?” Tommy’s voice squeaked.