That Old Flame of Mine (16 page)

The easy job she’d planned for had taken an uneasy turn. Between spending time with John outside of work—if that continued—and getting filthy, she’d at least need a few more pairs of jeans. Maybe a sweater or two. Maybe something silly and feminine. She could always have the things that wouldn’t fit in her saddlebags shipped back home.

The outside light was on when she arrived at the cabin. It made her think about Eric and then remind herself that there was no such thing as ghosts. She couldn’t even imagine what her friends and family would say if she suggested it. Well, except for her father and his family. Maybe.

The door opened when she started to unlock it, and the alarm system turned off. She found it hard not to believe that this particular ghost was real.

Chapter 18

“F
ind anything useful?” his deep voice asked as she closed the door. “I hope so. You’re a mess. Don’t tell me you drove home in that brand new truck like that.”

“It’s a fire scene—what can I tell you.” She put her backpack on the kitchen counter. “We found the kerosene can, almost in one piece. I think we might be able to get a print or two off of it. Did they do that kind of thing in your day?”

“You’re cheeky this evening. Are you flush with success, or is something else up?”

Stella was surprised he noticed so much. “As a matter of fact, it’s a little of both. John invited me out for dinner. We found what we were looking for. My Harley is going to the repair shop tomorrow. A good day.”

“All of that sounds really exciting.”

She was also surprised at how much she noticed about him. It was odd what you could pick up on from listening to a person’s voice, when there were no facial expressions or body language to influence what you were hearing. “I’m sorry. Am I boring you?”

“I’m not sure about dating John Trump. His father was an abusive alcoholic and he hates your family. Not a good start for a relationship.”

“Good thing you’re not dating him then. I don’t care about his father, and the Carsons are never going to be like family to me. Not to mention, I only have a few weeks left on my contract. I’m just looking to enjoy myself while I’m here—not get married and have kids. Were you always so nosey, Eric?”

“Just looking out for you.”

She walked in the bedroom. “I’m going to take a shower and get dressed. You stay on
your
side of the door.”

Stella felt a little smug at getting the upper hand with her ghost. She wasn’t sure why everyone who’d tried living here before her had run away screaming. Eric wasn’t that bad. He just needed boundaries.

She put her sooty clothes in a trash bag—there wasn’t enough to save—and got in the shower. Nothing Eric could say about John was going to ruin her night. She deserved a little romance and was happy she’d found someone after her experience with Doug. A thing like that could scar you forever.

Once the soot was gone, she got out and dried off quickly. The hot water tank wasn’t very big. That meant the last of every shower was cold. She ran a comb through her hair, thinking she might have to get it trimmed before she went home. The ends of the red strands were starting to look straggly. She didn’t want to go back looking like she’d been living in the wilderness for three months.

Sweet Pepper was a nice place. Most of the people were friendly and helpful. She could see where it could be a good place to live. Not for her, but for others.

She rummaged through her drawers looking for some clean underwear. She might have to buy some of that too.

“What do you mean you only have a few weeks on your contract?” Eric asked.

Stella grabbed a fire brigade T-shirt and held it in front of her. “I thought I told you to stay on your side of the door.”

“Both sides are actually mine,” he said. “Why are you leaving?”

“Because this was only a temporary arrangement to get the fire brigade going. I have a life—friends, family, job—at home in Chicago. Don’t worry. The fire brigade will be fine when I’m gone. I’ll leave someone I’ve trained in charge.”

“That’s not the point,” he argued. “You should stay. Even if you leave someone else in charge, it won’t last.”

She recalled that Flo had said Eric’s fire brigade had fallen apart after he died. Of course he was worried that history would repeat itself. “The town is motivated to stay in the business now. The county won’t help them anymore. It will be fine. Now, will you please go away so I can get dressed?”

“Since you can’t see me, how will you know if I’m gone or not?”

“You’re a southern gentleman, Eric. I’m sure I can rely on your honor.”

“You may be too trusting, Stella. Did someone tell you I was a gentleman in life?”

“Eric, get out of the bedroom right now or I’m moving down to Flo’s. Get it?”

There was no reply. She wasn’t sure he was gone, but she had to get dressed, and the bathroom was too small. She found all her clothes and arranged them on the bed before she started dressing. She also turned her back to the bedroom, with a wall directly in front of her.

She thought about Eric being lonely once she was gone. Forty years was a long time to go without talking to anyone. On the other hand, she couldn’t live her life for a dead man either. Maybe someone else would move in who could talk to him.

Stella combed her hair again and put on a little makeup so she’d look dressed up in her jeans and fire brigade T-shirt. There wasn’t much she could do about the bandage on her forehead.

She checked in on her computer. No one had been in the house while she was gone. “Say something, Eric. Now’s your chance to prove you’re real.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My laptop is checking for other people in the house.” Nothing was registering. Of course, if it was a two-way radio—

But it was too late. She already believed that the cabin was haunted. She grabbed her jacket from the sofa in the living room. She believed Eric Gamlyn’s ghost was her roommate.

“Did I pass the test?” he wanted to know. “Am I real?”

“It looks like it. Don’t wait up.”

“Take a towel with you.”

“Excuse me?” She frowned as she looked around the room.

“Dirty truck seat. I’d hate for you not to look your best for your date.”

“You know, it would be easier if I could see you. This way, it’s hard to know where to throw things so they’ll hit you.”

He laughed. “Have a good evening. Reconsider leaving Sweet Pepper.”

“You sound like my grandfather. He didn’t put you up to this, did he?”

“
You
aren’t invisible, you know.” A pillow floated up off the sofa. “You’re an easy target.”

She was amazed, watching it fly slowly through the air toward her. “Good night, Eric.” She smiled at his banter as the threatening pillow fell back down on the sofa. She took a kitchen towel with her.

The door opened for her to go out and then closed behind her. The porch light came on, but she didn’t hear the alarm set. She supposed it didn’t really matter anyway. A ghost was probably better than an alarm.

He was right, of course. The towel was filthy after she’d wiped the shiny new seat in the Cherokee. She could at least take care of the vehicle for the next chief—probably Petey or Ricky since John didn’t seem to want the position. He would’ve been her first choice. He seemed happy working for the police department. She didn’t want to mess that up for him.

Stella drove down Firehouse Road and parked next to the firehouse. There was light coming from the tiny room where they kept the computers and other communication equipment and from the kitchen. As she got out of the pickup, she could hear music coming from inside—the Beatles’
White Album
. Apparently, Tagger and Kent were fans.

A dark pickup was parked on the other side of the firehouse. A light in the vehicle bay, under the doors, caught her eye. It wasn’t the big, overhead lights she might have expected if Tagger were in there. This looked more like a flashlight beam. She passed the smaller door they all went in and out of each day. It was open.

A strong sense of something not being right made her quietly slip in to see what was going on.

Stella could hear Tagger singing Beatles songs in the kitchen as he used the microwave. Smelled like he was making popcorn.

There was something else happening. A flashlight beam was moving around the fire engine and the pumper in the dark bay area

Vandals? Thieves? Could be.

It might be kids exploring. It seemed unlikely that it was anything more serious than that. Standing beside the closed door to the kitchen and communications room, the dark bay beside her, she grabbed an ax from its place near the door and advanced on the drifting light.

Her heartbeat accelerated as she moved through the darkness between the equipment. Once she got far enough away from the music in the communications room—and Tagger’s singing—she could hear faint scratching sounds. That made her think it was even more likely that vandals—teenagers, maybe—were marking up her equipment.

She held the ax close to her, hoping she wouldn’t round a corner and come face-to-face with someone holding a gun. It probably would have been smart to call the police and let them handle the situation. She rested her hand on the driver’s side of the pumper, following its lines as she walked carefully, still listening to the scratching sounds.

As she got to the front of the pumper, someone dropped something—a heavy tool perhaps—on the floor. The sound ricocheted around the bay. She dropped down and waited to see what happened next. The flashlight beam hadn’t found her. It would be as hard for her attacker to see her as it was for her to see him.

Stella heard footsteps coming closer, and clutched the ax, careful not to give away her position by making any noise. Her plan was to catch whoever it was off guard, maybe trip the intruder with the ax. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to actually use the weapon on a person.

She waited, quietly and patiently, trying not to breathe too hard and hoping no one could hear her heart pounding.

The footsteps were right in front of her. Faint light from the windows in back showed a shadowy figure. As he went by, she put out the ax and was gratified to hear a muffled curse as the figure tripped and fell. That was no ghost!

She wasn’t sure what she was going to do next. This was where it would have been useful to have the police on their way.

At that moment, all the inside lights came on, along with the flashing lights and sirens on the equipment. Both vehicles started up, engines revving loudly in the closed bay. The sound and lights kept her at the front of the pumper. She heard the other person shout and run for the door.

“Not so fast!” She dropped the ax and ran, trying to catch the fleeing vandal.

She tackled him as they reached the parking lot together. He was wearing a hoodie and a mask. All she could tell about him was that he didn’t seem in particularly good shape. When she punched him in the stomach, he grunted and kicked at her.

His foot connected with her sore ribs in a lucky shot. She dropped to her knees, not able to move, trying to catch her breath.

He ran to the pickup at the side of the building and started the engine. Without turning on the headlights, he put the pickup in gear and raced back toward her. The truck’s dark form loomed like a wall in front of her, blocking everything out.

“Get up, Stella!”

Stella could have sworn she heard Eric’s voice. She clutched her arm to her chest and rolled away from the back of the pickup. The vehicle stopped abruptly, but the driver seemed to have lost his thirst for violence. The pickup screeched out of the parking lot, leaving the stench of burned rubber behind.

With the threat gone, Stella crawled to the side of the building. The engines, lights, and sirens were still flashing and wailing. She groaned. “Eric? Is that you?”

“I don’t know anyone else who could do all of that at one time, do you?”

She saw a shadowy image near her, just as she had that night in the hot tub. “But you can’t be here. I really have lost it.”

“This is the only other place I can be,” he said. “I built this place with my own two hands. I can show you where every nail is. It’s as much a part of me as the cabin. Do you need an ambulance?”

“I don’t think so. But thanks for the diversion.”

The lights and sirens suddenly died away, followed by the big engines shutting down. “You took a big chance going in there by yourself, Stella. I can’t believe you’ve worked with a fire department for so long without knowing any better. How many people go into the burning house?”

“Two.” She coughed and tried to breathe normally. The sounds of Beatles’ music still whispered through the night air. “You’re right. It was careless. I didn’t think about it until it was too late.”

“Back to training for you, Chief Griffin.”

“I guess. Of course,
you
can’t tell anyone what happened. I don’t know if Tagger or Kent even know anything went on. They’re both wearing headphones. I think I’m safe on this one.”

“Is that old Tagger in there after all these years?” Eric asked. “I thought he’d be dead by now.”

“Well, you’d know, right? Don’t you guys all know each other? Kind of like firemen’s heaven?”

She was left with no reply. She pushed herself up using the side of the building for leverage and went to check on the equipment.