That Old Flame of Mine (21 page)

Elvita sighed. “It’s going to be absolutely perfect.”

“Except for Tory not being here.” Theodora bit her lip and wiped the corner of her eye on her scarf. “You know, she started us all dressing up for the event. Remember the year she dressed up as Amelia Earhart? She even smoked those nasty little cigars. She was so brave—even after Adam’s death. I miss her spirit so much, bless her soul.”

“Tory told me she thought there was something unusual about Adam’s death.” Stella put on her jeans and T-shirt now that the fitting was over.

“Now that you mention it,” Elvita said, “she did go on about how Adam had stopped smoking months before they’d found him all burned up. She even went around asking questions—went to the state capital.”

“Tory took it to Eric Gamlyn, the old fire chief. He said he’d done what he could. The police wouldn’t look into it either. After that, the whole thing kind of died out,” Theodora explained.

“I can tell you that Tory was more than a mite suspicious.” Molly peered over the top of her glasses. “For a while she even thought Greg Lambert, her second husband, might have had something to do with it. There was some bad blood between Greg and Adam.”

“You mean because Greg wanted Tory for himself while she was still married.” Elvita giggled and blushed. “They tried to keep their affair a secret, but everyone knew.”

“That was
before
they got married, after Adam died. She was pregnant with Victor. That child was
not
Adam’s baby,” Molly continued. “Don’t forget, Tory dated Greg in high school before Adam came into the picture. Her father didn’t think Greg was good enough for her.”

“He didn’t think
anyone
was good enough for her,” Theodora said.

“Then there was that old flame of hers, the one she’d promised to marry before she married Adam. He joined the Army or something. He threatened Adam several times when he got back because she was married to him. What
was
his name?”

Chapter 25

“A
n old boyfriend?” Stella asked. “Does he still live here?”

“I don’t recall,” Molly said.

“Don’t look at me,” Elvita hurriedly said. “I’m too young to remember back then.”

“That would be my problem too,” Theodora confessed.

“Tagger Reamis!” Molly suddenly remembered. “He came back a war hero. Tory couldn’t have cared less. She was beautiful and rich. Adam’s business was successful. She was the toast of the town. Tagger tried to get her to run away with him. Adam took care of him, bless his heart.”

“What happened?” Stella asked. Were they talking about the same Tagger Reamis she knew?

Elvita sighed. “I heard Adam had his legs broken, or some such.”

Molly said, “No. Adam just threatened him. Poor Tagger. He was wounded in the war. Not right in the head. He gave up, of course.”

Stella realized she was never going to get the whole story from this group. She told them she had practice at the firehouse later and needed to go to the hat shop before noon.

The ladies were happy to comply, and Molly told them all to come back in tomorrow for a proper fitting.

Though Stella felt sure this was the worst type of gossip, she also thought there might be a kernel of truth in what they were saying. She might find out when she got the report from John.

It was hard to imagine Tagger being in love with Tory, even though it was a long time ago. He might have been a much different man then. Maybe a man who would be willing to kill Tory’s husband to be with her, especially since Adam had either hurt or threatened him.

He must not have realized that she was already with someone else on the side, possibly already pregnant with Greg’s child.

Tory had really gotten around when she was young. There had been nothing left of that side of her personality by the time Stella met her.

The hatmaker across town was the opposite of Molly Whitehouse. Matilda Storch was a sturdy, buxom woman of strong German stock. Her white hair was pulled tightly back from her pink-and-white face, emphasizing her bright blue eyes and sharp chin.

“Good cheekbones.” She examined Stella’s head and face. “You should wear a tiny hat to emphasize your features, not hide them.”

Matilda looked squarely at the big, overly decorated hats worn by Elvita and Theodora.

“She has to look French,” Elvita said. “And the hat must match her periwinkle frock.”

“Of course.” Matilda measured Stella’s head and pushed her hair around her face. “How will you wear your hair that day?”

“I usually wear it like this.” Stella looked at herself in the mirror and saw the other three women looking at her reflection too.

“You might want to reconsider,” Theodora suggested.

“No. It’s fine.” Matilda smiled. “I’ll create a hat that will be wonderful with your hair just the way it is.”

Stella was hungry—the hours had flown with the fittings and gossip. She wasn’t looking forward to having lunch with Theodora and Elvita. Happily, she was spared from that by an issue with Elvita’s hat that had to be taken care of right away.

“I have to run anyway,” she told the other women. “I’ll see all of you later. Thanks for being here with me. I’ll get that pepper recipe to you very soon.”

Matilda reminded her to check back in a day or two so they could make changes to her hat, as needed. Elvita reminded Stella that she’d have to attend judging rehearsal before the festival.

Stella was glad to get away. It was a beautiful day, fresh and crisp with a light wind blowing down from the mountains. She’d miss this kind of weather when she got home. Though she loved Chicago, no breeze would ever smell as sweet there.

When she reached the café, Marty was outside. Had he been waiting for her?

“I’ve been looking for you, Chief—Stella. I hope that head wound isn’t bothering you too much.” He gently touched her hair.

That was a little too personal. Stella pulled herself out of her happy fall mood and stepped back. “I’m well, thanks. Everything is going fine.”

He didn’t seem put off by her movement. “I’m glad to hear it. I was about to go inside. Would you like to have lunch with me?”

“I really have to eat and go,” she said.

“Me too. Practice this afternoon, you know.”

What could she say? Refusing to eat with him would be rude. He’d found her in the ditch and brought her to safety. She probably should buy him lunch. She was a little wary of him, though. Probably all the things that John had said about him.

Before she could answer, John opened the diner door, irritation plainly written on his face. “Problem out here, Chief Griffin? Is
he
bothering you?”

“Not at all.” She felt trapped between the two men. “I think I’ll go in and have lunch. Maybe we should all eat together.”

Marty didn’t like that idea. “You know, I forgot there’s something I have to do before practice. Rain check? I’ll see you later, Stella.”

Stella agreed, mentally chastising herself for acting so weird with him. She couldn’t let John’s feelings about her family color her ideas about them.

“What was all that about?” John walked in with her and showed her to his table, a tall glass of iced tea at his place.

Stella realized that everyone in the diner had been watching them through the wide plate-glass windows. It made her angry and embarrassed. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“You.” He slid the old manila file toward her. “I guess you didn’t get my texts or calls about meeting me here for lunch.”

“Sorry. I was being properly attired to judge the chocolate and pepper recipe contest at the festival. I guess there was no cell service at the dressmaker or hatmaker shops either.” She looked at her phone and found twelve messages from him. “Thanks for waiting.”

They ordered lunch, and Stella started looking through the file.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “Are you and Marty dating or what?”

“Dating?” She didn’t remember him asking that question. “I barely know him.”

“You looked pretty cozy out there. I wouldn’t blame you. You should know that he doesn’t get any of the Carson money. Your grandfather made sure of that. Which is probably why he wants you to stay.”

She tried to recall that she’d been hungry earlier and that food had sounded good. What was it with John that he always managed to say things that raised her hackles?

“I’ll try to remember that.” She glanced through a few of the papers in the file. The ink had faded on many of them. “Did you look through this?”

He shrugged. “Sure. I don’t see any problem with the investigation Chief Fenway did at the time. People start fires carelessly. You don’t need me to tell you that. Why the interest in this?”

Stella thought about telling him that her ghost was interested. After all, they had all been so sure the cabin was haunted, he shouldn’t be surprised. Knowing that Eric had spoken only to her, she feared the town’s reaction should she confirm his existence. What if they panicked, burned down the cabin or something? She had to keep Eric’s presence to herself.

“Like I said, Tory asked me to look into it. I didn’t think about it much, until she was killed.”

“People want to believe it wasn’t their loved one’s fault when they die. I’m sure that was how Tory felt. I don’t see how this could connect with her death, in any case.”

“I don’t either.” She closed the file. “Like I said, I thought I’d look into it. Kind of a memorial thing, you know.”

“I get it. Don’t mention it to Chief Rogers, will you? Tory never gave up on it, even when Chief Fenway retired.”

“Is he still around?”

“Sure. He lives outside town near Big Bear Springs. I could take you out there, if you like. I’ll be at practice this afternoon. We could go from there.”

Stella searched John’s handsome face. Clearly, he liked her and liked being around her. She liked him too, but she was tired of all the Carson crap.

“That sounds fine—if we can leave the Carson family at their mansion. I’m not my family, John. I didn’t have anything to do with the things that have gone on here that you’re blaming them for.” She stopped short of mentioning his father.

Their food arrived and neither of them said anything for a few moments as they ate.

John wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I know. I feel like an idiot about it, Stella. You could’ve worn a sign—‘Keep out, Carson blood’—to warn me off before I realized how much I like everything about you. It wasn’t fair.”

She smiled and took his hand. “Life’s not fair. We could still salvage what we’ve got going on between us, if you can get over the Carson stuff.”

He leaned across the table and briefly kissed her. A chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” greeted his action, followed by a smattering of applause. “I’m over it.”

“Great. Let’s go to Big Bear Springs, and we’ll see what happens after that.”

“Sounds good.”

“Have you ever heard anything about Tagger and Tory being a couple?” she asked.

“Are you kidding me?” He laughed. “I don’t think so. Can you imagine that?”

Stella felt the same way. She probably needed to ask someone who’d known both of them way back when to find out for sure.

After lunch, she drove out to the firehouse, said hello to Ricky, who was on communications duty that day. She sat down in her small office, no more than a broom closet they’d shoved an old desk and chair into. The cleaning supplies were still stored there.

As she was going through the file, one of the documents floated up and away from her. “Nice trick. Were you looking over my shoulder?”

“This is my report on the fire,” Eric said. “I didn’t expect to see it again. I can’t believe I let myself say what they wanted me to say.”

Stella sat back in her chair with the file in her lap. “I’ve already looked through most of it. I don’t see what else you could have said. It looks like an accident. They happen.”

“No one sits there after they spill lighter fluid on themselves and calmly lights their cigarette. He didn’t fall asleep smoking. Not to mention that there was no lighter anywhere around him.”

“I agree that the circumstances are odd. You know sometimes fires are unusual. There is no mention of suspects or motives for someone to have killed Adam.”

“Because we didn’t have time to investigate since your grandfather closed us down.”

Stella wasn’t sure about that. “He told me he was trying to save the town some money. John and I are going out to talk to the old police chief after practice today. Maybe he’ll have some insights.”

“Old Walt Fenway is still alive, huh?” The report that had been hanging in the air fell back to the desk. “He was caught in the middle too. I doubt if he’ll have much to say about it.”

A quick knock on the door brought Tagger in right behind it. “Chief, most of the volunteers are here. What are you looking at?” He came around to peer over her shoulder.

“An old file.” She put the paper back in the folder, feeling a faint
zing
of static electricity as she did so. Possibly something Eric left behind. “Adam Presley’s death. Did you know him?”

“Oh sure,” Tagger said. “The car salesman. Why are you looking at that?”

“I had a few questions about the fire. I heard that Chief Gamlyn wasn’t happy with the investigation. I know Tory didn’t believe it was an accident.”

Tagger’s smile was toothy. “Yeah. The chief had a suspicious nature. He thought everyone was guilty of something.”

“You didn’t think there was anything unusual about the fire?”

He appeared to be thinking—frowning and puckering up. “I don’t really remember. Sorry, Chief. Maybe there was. People don’t like car salesmen much, do they?”

Stella put the folder away. “Thanks anyway. I’ll be right out.”

When Tagger was gone, she said to Eric, “Do you know anything about Tagger dating Tory before she married Adam?”

“Sure. I kind of remember that. Nothing came of it. He went to Vietnam, and when he came back, she was married.”

“I heard something about him threatening Adam. Adam beat him up or something.”

“I don’t remember. Walt might. What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. Firemen are good at starting fires too.”

“Not Tagger.” Eric defended him. “He was devastated by Tory’s rejection, but he didn’t kill Adam.”

“You’re probably right. It bothers me that Tory was so sure her first husband was murdered and then she was murdered too. Even though Tory didn’t die in the fire like Adam, both cases involved arson. Tagger was involved with both cases—the first time because he wanted to be with Tory. He was working for her when she died. Maybe he wanted revenge.”

“I thought Tory’s son started the fire at her house.”

“He did, at least it looks like he did.”

“I don’t think Don Rogers is going to want you to stir the pot after he’s made his arrest. You’re asking for trouble in the last few weeks you have here.”

“I know, but I want to do this for Tory. I probably won’t be here for her memorial I’ve heard people talking about.”

“I wish I could be more help. It’s been a long time and a lot has happened since then.”

She put the folder into her desk drawer. “You can train with us. You could probably use the exercise.”