That Old Flame of Mine (28 page)

“We stick to the plan.” Stella buckled her seat belt. “The Smittys won’t look too closely at the document. They know you and trust you. They publish the exhumation plan and we draw Adam out.”

“Well, as long as you know what the plan is, Stella. I’m only along for backup. I wish Eric could be here too.” He glanced at her. “He’s not, is he?”

She started the engine. “I think the only two places he can go are the cabin and the firehouse. He said he thinks it’s because he built them.”

“I guess I better get started quick on rebuilding my old place. I want to have somewhere to haunt too. I hope some pretty woman like you moves in and wants to live with me. For a dead man, Eric has it made.”

Stella wasn’t so sure about that. What was going to happen to Eric when she left? She’d promised herself she wouldn’t think about it.

The plan included going to the
Sweet Pepper Gazette
with intent faces to tell the Smittys that Stella had plans to exhume Adam’s body. She and Walt had already looked up where he was buried in the Sweet Pepper Cemetery so they could make it more convincing.

It was a bald-faced lie. It would take a lot more than a fake court order with Joe Presley’s name on it to make that happen. Walt had said it was a difficult and lengthy process that was nearly impossible to get a judge to sign off on.

The Smittys didn’t know that. Both reporters (publishers, photographers, owners, and delivery people) sat with rapt expressions on their faces, almost unable to write, so amazed that this could happen.

“You realize that this is the day before the festival starts, right?” Pat asked in shocked disbelief.

“That’s right,” Walt said, still raw on the subject. “Maybe we’ll parade what’s left of him down Main Street for everyone to see.”

Stella cleared her throat, and Walt sat back, frowning. She gave the Smittys enough information to whet their curiosity. She explained how Tory had believed her first husband was still alive and had passed that information along before she’d died. They didn’t ask to see the exhumation document.

“Do you think it’s possible that Adam Presley killed Tory because of this?” Pat asked.

“Yes, I do,” Stella confirmed. “I think he was worried about her figuring out that he’d faked his own death. I think she was getting close. We should know in a few days.”

Of course, they wouldn’t know anything if Adam had left Sweet Pepper right after Tory’s death or if he decided not to take the bait. It was a chance they had to take.

Walt stayed silent, letting Stella answer the barrage of questions the Smittys put to her. After it was over, they walked out into the sunshine together. The sounds of hammering, sawing, and microphone checks from the festival setup filled the air.

“Well, that’s that,” Walt concluded. “The fat is really in the fire now.”

Chapter 33

F
riday was the opening morning of the Sweet Pepper Festival. The weather was perfect. The booths and tents were all up, hues of red, blue, orange, and green dotting Main Street. The roads through town were already blocked off by police barricades, and the smell of cooking food wafted up from the town toward the mountains.

The only problem beneath the cloudless blue sky was the front page article in the
Sweet Pepper Gazette
. Residents who had seen it, especially those who had anything to do with the festival, had already lodged complaints with Police Chief Don Rogers.

Stella was up early too, not because of the article in the
Gazette
. She was in the kitchen with Eric, who was coaching her on how to make candied peppers. Following his instructions, she cut the peppers into small slices while he made his secret candy syrup of sugar, water, and cardamom. When the syrup was ready, she would dunk the peppers into it, then place them on a baking sheet and cook them on a low temperature until they were crispy.

Stella smiled as pots, ingredients, and spoons whizzed around the kitchen. Hero whined as he watched it happen. When the peppers were finally in the oven, Eric took Hero outside, staying within his fifty-foot perimeter.

He was calling the puppy up to the cabin. Eric had admitted as much. He enjoyed seeing Hero, and the puppy seemed to like him. Stella didn’t say anything about it.

She tasted the bright red peppers when they were done. They were sweet at first, then hot on her tongue. “These are good.” She was as surprised as she sounded. She hadn’t baked anything since she and her mother made box pizzas when she was a kid.

“What did you expect?” Eric asked. “We might win the contest.”

Stella went through her contestants and their recipes from the email sent out to all the judges. She wouldn’t actually taste the food until later that day. The ribbons would be given out on the last day of the event.

“This is too dangerous,” Eric repeated again. He’d been saying it since she’d arrived at the cabin the night before after a long practice with the volunteers at the firehouse. “You’re setting yourself up to be the target of a desperate man.”

“It’s the only way to catch him.” She didn’t disagree that there might be some risk to the plan. “I’ll be careful.”

“I don’t think you’re listening. Or you don’t realize how bad this could be,” he continued. “You aren’t a police officer, Stella. You’re brave, but you’re foolhardy.” He paused in his rant and listened. “And here’s Officer Trump to tell you the same thing. Should I make a large pot of coffee for all the visitors you’re about to have?”

She took a deep breath. It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected it. She had so much to do before the festival started at nine a.m. “If you could be quiet for a while, I could get done with this fairly quickly. Is that too much to ask?”

“Let me help.”

Stella knew he was close but didn’t know how close until her laptop screen filled with static and the whole thing went down. “Eric! It’s not cheap getting this fixed when you do that. I needed that information.”

“I thought that way the computer could shut up instead of me. You’ve already looked at the information dozens of times. It hasn’t changed.”

“I didn’t tell you to shut up,” she said as John knocked on the door. “You’re too sensitive. I have a lot on my plate right now.”

“Everything, except common sense.”

Stella put on a smile, despite her annoyance, as she opened the door for John. “Good morning. What brings you out this early?”
As if I don’t know.

He didn’t wait to be invited in—a fact that drew some criticism from Eric despite the fact that he knew John would champion his cause once he’d heard Stella’s plan.

“Why do you think I’m here?” John slapped the morning edition of the
Gazette
on the table. “The chief is furious. He’s threatening to arrest you for putting out false information to the press, because you’re a public figure.”

“Is that a real charge you can make against someone?” she asked as she closed the door.

“I don’t know. People are so angry, they might make a new law for you. What were you thinking? The festival is important to the town. To have this story on the front page while thousands of tourists are here . . . it’s not good.”

Stella couldn’t believe it. “You sound like my grandfather. Tory would probably still be alive right now if he’d let Walt and Eric figure out what happened to Adam forty years ago. That’s the same excuse he used to stop the investigation then.”

“What are you talking about? There’s nothing in the file I gave you about that.”

“That’s what Walt was trying to tell us. That’s why his house was burned down. Walt and Eric had issues with Adam Presley’s death. They had doubts about the body being his. They couldn’t pursue the truth because of the stupid festival. No one wanted to hear it.”

John was briefly taken aback by the information. He regrouped and continued his attack. “You have no real proof that Presley is still alive. You sure don’t have a court order to have his body exhumed. It was stupid and irresponsible for you, as the fire chief, to say such things.”

“I have proof that Adam was alive in 1992. That’s almost twenty years after his supposed death. Maybe I don’t have a court order, but Adam doesn’t know that—if he’s still here.”

“You should’ve brought it to the chief, Stella. You aren’t a member of the police. You could’ve brought it to me if you didn’t want to go to Don.”

“Don made it clear that he was only interested in Victor. What was the point?”

John sat down at the kitchen table. “What are you trying to do?”

She laid out her plan to trap Adam Presley.

“Are you kidding me? That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. Not to mention the most dangerous.”

“Exactly what I’ve been saying,” Eric agreed.

“You’re setting yourself up for Adam to come after you, even though you think he’s killed at least one other person.”

Stella poured them both a cup of coffee, now that the preliminaries were over. She sat down at the table with him to explain. It would be nice to have him on their side.

“Walt came to me with his story about the minimal investigation that went on involving Adam’s death. He believes Adam tried to kill him to keep his suspicions quiet. It could be the same reason Tory is dead. That file you gave me about the police investigation was only half the size of the one she gave me only a few hours before she was killed.”

John shook his head. “I can’t believe Walt would be a party to all this. He was the police chief. It goes against everything.”

“I feel the same way,” Eric added. “Two heads aren’t always better than one.”

“It’s done.” Stella started on her fifth cup of coffee. She was out of Coke and hadn’t wanted to go out, for obvious reasons. Really, the coffee was kind of addictive. She’d never had as much of it before.

“I’m going to get dressed, go to the festival, judge my contest, and see what happens. You can come along if you’re worried.”

“I’d like to, believe me,” John replied. “The chief would never assign me to help you with that—especially if I told him what you and Walt are trying to do. He’s a stickler about citizens taking the law into their own hands. He’d probably put all of us in jail. Maybe that’s what should happen. At least you’d be safe there.”

“First of all, as you pointed out before, I’m not just a citizen. I’m the duly appointed fire chief of Sweet Pepper, and this crime involves a homicide by fire.”

“Stella—”

“Not to mention that I can’t let everyone down like that, John. Walt is meeting me at the festival. He has a gun. If Adam tries anything, he’ll be there. If Adam tips his hand, then we’ll know what happened to Tory.”

She didn’t tell him that Eric had already said that he dared Adam, or anyone else, to try to burn down his cabin. He didn’t let snakes or scorpions in. He sure wasn’t going to let a human do anything to it.

“You are the most single-minded woman I’ve ever met. It’s against my better judgment, but I’ll do what I can to help.”

“Not you too,” Eric mourned. “Is everyone in Sweet Pepper crazy nowadays?”

“You’ll be in a crowded area. That should help some,
if
he makes his move today,” John said. “I can’t be there the whole time, but I’ll look in, and I’ll have a few other officers check in as they walk around the festival. Walt will be there.” He was obviously still trying to convince himself that this could work.

“That’s right.” She got up from the table, with a decent caffeine buzz. “I have to get dressed and figure out how this hat is going to stay on my head. Then I have to take my laptop to Charlie Johnson—again. I’ll have to look at the recipes again later after the tasting today. All the recipes I saw before my laptop crashed met the qualifications for peppers and chocolate.”

John could see she was already drifting away from the topic of drawing Adam out. “Stella?” He took her in his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Be careful.”

She stared at him in surprise and slowly smiled. “I will. Don’t worry. This will work.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Eric muttered to himself, angry and jealous.

Stella wandered into the bedroom to change, leaving John to find his own way out.

“I wish this place really was haunted,” John said with a sigh. “Any haunt worth his salt could keep her from leaving today.”

Eric watched him leave. He agreed, partially, and he
could
keep Stella from leaving the cabin. She’d be safe, but she’d also be angry. He was torn about what he should do.

He knew he was going to lose her in a few weeks. He wanted to protect her. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if she left angry at him.

He went out on the deck to sit and look at the mountains. He tried not to think what his existence would be like when she was gone.

* * * 

By the time Stella had dropped off her laptop with Charlie, she was beginning to understand how difficult life was for women in the 1800s. The periwinkle gown was pretty but made it difficult to walk and even more difficult to drive the Cherokee. She had to hike the skirt up and secure it under the seat belt. The hat was a whole other matter.

“What are you doing up there that keeps frying your laptop?” Charlie asked. “Not that I’m complaining. You’re my best customer. Maybe you need a surge protector.”

“I think it’s something to do with the mountain. Too much strange energy.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “I saw the story in the
Gazette
today. Are you really going to dig up some man who’s been dead since before you were born? Is that even legal? What could you hope to find?”

Stella had decided to answer all the questions she was asked about the situation. If she wanted to drag Adam Presley out of hiding, he’d better think it was bad enough to take a chance on getting caught.

“They couldn’t do DNA testing when he was killed. They can now. As soon as they bring the body up, they’ll know right away if it’s really Adam Presley. His father is still alive, so we have a good sample to compare. It won’t take more than a few days, and then we’ll know the truth.”

Charlie looked doubtful. “Sounds expensive. Why bother now?”

“Because I think the real Adam is living here again. He killed Tory to keep his secret. I won’t let him get away with that.”

It might have been too much, from the horrified expression on Charlie’s face. Certainly the process would take a lot longer, even if she
really
had the authorization to do it.

She felt certain when she left the computer store that the story would filter around town quickly, following on the heels of the
Gazette
article. It couldn’t be too soon for her.

Theodora and Elvita were anxiously waiting for her at the booth where she would judge the pepper and chocolate contest. Stella had removed her large hat because the breeze from the mountains kept threatening to blow it away. As much as she might like that, she didn’t want everyone to be disappointed with her performance.

Too late
.

“Where’s your hat?” Elvita asked. “The costume is very important. Hundreds, if not thousands, of visitors will come through here today. Decorum is as important as the actual judging process.”

Stella firmly planted her hat back on her head. Elvita quickly swooped in to securely attach it with a large, dangerous-looking hat pin.

“Now these are your entries.” Theodora pointed out the food samples. They were carefully labeled in separate plastic packages. “Each recipe you were sent has been made precisely according to the ingredients. You have some samples of other recipes, older ones, you can give out as people stop by.”

There was a large plastic container. Stella couldn’t tell what was inside it.

“You have read all the recipes and verified that they meet the correct specifications, haven’t you?” Theodora continued with a stern expression on her face.

Stella wondered what the other woman would say if she told her about Eric not wanting her to continue reading. “Yes, I have. I’m ready.”

Both women started laughing. “You can never be ready for the festival. You’ll find out. Good luck. If you need help, send someone for us.
Never
leave your booth.”