“Can I get anyone something to eat?” Tina asked, as she walked into the room, fully dressed, thank God. “Jordy, you haven’t eaten all day. Want me to make you some eggs and pancakes?”
The grin on Jordy’s face told me that apparently, it was one of her favorite meals. “Thank you, baby. That would be great,” she replied.
Tina glanced at me.
“No, thank you. I ate at the station,” I answered. Granted, it was a soda and cheese crackers, but I didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary.
“Tina makes the best hotcakes in the South,” Jordy boasted. “It’s her family’s secret recipe.”
“Oh, that does sound intriguing,” I responded politely.
“Thank you,” Tina replied. “By the way, I’m Catarina Krüger, but everyone calls me Tina. And you are?”
“Oh, damn. Sorry about that,” Jordy said, somewhat embarrassed, which on her was kind of cute. “Tina, this is the reporter shadowing me on my arsonist case.”
Annoyed, I shook my head. “As I have told Jordy… a hundred times, I’m not a reporter anymore.” I held out my hand to Tina. “Hi, I’m Roberta Witherspoon, and I’m doing research for my new book.” Did that sound pretentious? I do love saying it. “Jordy was kind enough to let me tag along on her cases.” Yes, it was a little white lie, but telling the truth, in this case would have been rude.
Tina looked at the frown on Jordy’s face and laughed. “More like she was ordered to let you tag along.”
Laughing with her, I said, “You got it. Even so, I have been learning a lot from her. Like this serial arsonist case. It’s fascinating in a frightening sort of way.”
“Speaking of which,” Jordy inserted, glancing at the printouts. “Exactly how was it that my father killed yours?”
The room abruptly grew cold and still. Tina’s mouth gaped open as Jordy gazed at me with an ambiguous smile. I loathe confrontations, but I was not going to back down from this one. I needed answers that the reports couldn’t provide, so I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before I said, “Your father was the fire director and my stepdad was the fire chief.”
Jordy shook her head. “Wait. What? Our fathers knew each other?”
“Apparently so,” I replied with a tinge of sarcasm.
“So, that’s why you’re really here,” Jordy said indignantly.
I squared my shoulders defiantly and replied, “No. It is not why I’m here. I didn’t know until my mother… until I started doing the research.” There was no need to drag my mother into the middle of this.
“This is utter bullshit,” Jordy barked and jumped up from the table. She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door, but she just stood there, staring into the fridge.
Okay. That didn’t go so well. I remained seated, although my first instinct was to jump up and follow her. “When I first learned that they were killed in the same fire, I was pretty upset, too. I found a news article that said your father ordered mine into that burning building. What I would like to know is why your father, the fire director, was giving orders on site? Is that standard?”
Jordy didn’t move or acknowledge my question.
Tina walked over to her and pulled the eggs and milk from the refrigerator shelf. Then she closed the door and put her hand on Jordy’s shoulder. “Jordy?”
Jordy’s turbulent face calmed, and she nodded at Tina. “I’m okay, baby.”
I liked Jordy… a lot, and I had hoped that we could become friends. That hope was shattered just now when I accused her father of murdering mine. I was caught up in a catch twenty-two. Part of me wanted justification for my stepdad, and part of me hoped that she would prove me wrong.
I did stand up then and looked through the kitchen divider. “Jordy, I’m only trying to find some answers. I don’t want to believe that your father sent mine into a death trap, I just want—”
“You’re damn right he didn’t,” she spat out. “And, yes, it is not usual for the director to be on site, but I don’t believe my father ordered yours into such a dangerous situation. My father is a… was a decorated veteran. He would never risk anyone’s life.”
“Like your Uncle Joe didn’t risk yours today?” I blurted defensively.
She walked into the dining room and stood very close, towering over me. I involuntarily took a step back.
“I risked my own fucking life and I would do it again, willingly. It’s what we do, little girl. We put our lives on the line every day so that people like you can feel safe at night.”
To hell with that. I put my hands on my hips and leaned forward, jutting my chin out. “Call me a little girl one more time and I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Cry like a little girl?”
“Look, bitch—”
“Stop it!” Tina yelled from the kitchen. “Both of you, just sit down and shut up.”
“I think I should go,” I said, choking back my angry tears as I slammed the monitor lid closed.
“You both want answers, right?” Tina asked, not waiting on a reply. “Then work together to find them. Robbie, you’re jumping to conclusions and Jordy, you’re on the defensive. You won’t get anywhere with those attitudes.”
Jordy wouldn’t make eye contact with either of us, not that I wanted her to look at me. I was afraid that if she did I would lose the fight of holding back my damn tears. I didn’t need to prove her right, in that regard. Even so, I still threw out the first bone. “You’re right, Tina. I am jumping to conclusions, and I’m sorry for that. But it’s only because I have not been told anything different that would change those assumptions.”
Jordy’s granite face revealed nothing, but her icy-cold eyes said it all. “My father…” she growled, “was a man of honor.”
“As was my stepdad,” I rebutted defiantly.
She gritted her teeth and I tensed up, ready for another round. But then she exhaled and said, “What you are assuming is wrong, and I will be happy to prove it to you.”
“Jordy,” I said quietly, pushing my anger to the side. “I really do hope that you will.” She cut me a look that said I had surprised her. I had surprised myself, as well. I wanted to work with her and get to the bottom of this. If I was proven right, I would decide what to do then. For now, all I wanted to do was catch the bastard who was causing all these deaths. Technically, even if Henry had sent my stepdad in, it was the arsonist who’d ultimately caused his death. “Can we… do you think we could work together to find out what happened to our fathers and to catch the maniac who killed them?”
She tilted her head and stared at me for a second, then she looked back at the stack of printouts on the table. “I’m sorry I called you a little girl,” she said under her breath.
Now it was my turn to be surprised. I darted my eyes over to Tina, who grinned and nodded. “And I apologize for calling you a bitch,” I reciprocated. Inhaling sharply, I quickly changed the subject. “So, the reason that I think the arsonist you’re chasing is connected to our fathers’ deaths is because of a photo I found that the newspaper took at the scene.” I rifled through my messenger bag and pulled out a manila file folder. Pulling out the photograph, I handed it to her. “See anything familiar?”
She held it up and inspected the picture closely. Small beads of sweat broke out on her forehead as her mouth gaped open. “The smiley face… it’s true then. He was there.” She dropped her hand holding the photo to the table and looked at me. “What does this mean?”
“There’s no other record of the smiley faced arsonist in the files until just recently. Do you think this was his first fire?”
She shook her head. “If it was, why did he wait so long between fires?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, wondering the same thing myself.
“Maybe it’s a copycat, or he was in prison, or maybe he never planned on repeating… Wait…” Jordy’s eyes were darting back and forth as if she were trying to grab an elusive idea. “Why didn’t the database search flag that compari
son?”
I shrugged. “Um, statute of limitations, maybe?”
“No, that’s not it. If the crime resulted in a death, the files would be in the archives.”
“How long ago was that?” Tina asked from the kitchen.
“Twelve years ago,” Jordy and I both said at the same time. Jordy looked at me with a ghost of a smile on her lips.
“Would those files have been scanned in before everything was centralized?” Tina asked as she flipped a pancake like a pro, before opening the refrigerator door.
I was becoming energized. The three of us were throwing out ideas and analyzing them like a team on a mission, and I felt the first stirrings of hope inside me. Jordy was concentrating on the photograph, her face pensive, but no longer angry.
“Yes, it should have been. But sometimes it depends on how it was tagged, unless…”
“What?” I asked curiously.
“Unless the tags were deliberately changed,” Jordy replied, laying the photo on the table.
Tina walked in, carrying two plates with pancakes and toast on them. She placed one plate in front of Jordy and the other in front of me.
“No, you don’t have to—”
“I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a long night. Eat something. You’ll need your strength to keep up with her,” Tina explained, going back into the kitchen.
She was probably right and I was suddenly starving, so I took her up on her offer. “Thank you, I am getting hungry just smelling it.”
“Dig in. Plenty more where that came from,” Tina said as she returned with the butter and syrup.
I lavished the pancake with syrup and cut into it. Then I saw the assortment of eggs Tina had brought when she carried in the butter and syrup. I scooped up an over-easy egg and put it on my pancake, breaking the yoke and sopping it up with a piece of toast. Heaven. It had been so long since I’d had a home-cooked breakfast that it didn’t matter what time of day it was, it was heaven.
“Tina, this is wonderful,” I said between bites.
“Thank you,” she replied. “My mother taught me how to cook. That’s how I reeled in Jordy, with my pancakes.”
“Oh, yeah. It had nothing to do with your good looks and alluring smile, I’m sure,” Jordy joked, not taking her eyes off of the photo lying beside her plate.
“Jordy, eat your pancakes before they get cold,” Tina ordered as she sat down with her own plate of food.
“Bossy,” Jordy quipped, picking up her fork and pointing it at Tina. “That’s just one of the many things I’m going to miss about you, baby.”
My hand stopped halfway to my mouth, and I glanced at her from under my eyelashes. Wow, how did she go from getting blind drunk to talking about how much she’ll miss her? Impressive. There were a lot more layers to Jordy than I had realized. “Oh, are you going on a trip?” I asked innocently. I’m not usually such a busybody, but my curiosity was just too strong.
“Yes, I’m moving to Germany for a couple of years,” Tina said, glancing at Jordy with shuttered eyes.
“Yeah, she’s going to be a sexy vice-president and drive around in a Porsche 911 GT2 RS,” Jordy teased.
“Already picked out my car, have you?” Tina questioned. “I don’t even know what that is, except it sounds expensive.”
“You’re right. It is a very expensive sports car made in Germany,” Jordy answered. “And when I come over for a visit, I want to take her out on the autobahn and see what she can do.”
Tina dropped her jaw and stared at her. “What? You still want to come visit me?”
“Of course. Just because we’re not a couple anymore, we’re still going to be friends, right?”
“Oh,” I gushed, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “I’ll get out of here and let you two—”
“No, it’s all right, Robbie. Jordy’s right, we’re just friends now,” Tina said, smiling as she gazed at Jordy. “And I’m okay with that.”
She may have been smiling, but I could see the sadness behind that smile. They had come to an understanding, but they’d not had a chance to work through their feelings yet. I felt very conspicuous, sitting there listening to them act like it was just two pals hanging out. That wasn’t what I saw when I walked in.
“Well, um, congratulations on your new job,” I offered. “It sounds very exciting.”
“It’s the chance of a lifetime,” Jordy declared half-heartedly.
“Oh, yes. Plus, I’ll get to know my German family better. My grandparents live in Frankfurt, and the company is putting me up in an apartment close to them.”
I nodded enthusiastically. “That’s wonderful. Family is everything. My grandparents live in Little Rock, and I call them at least once a month. My mother and I plan to go see them after I finish my research.”
“And just when do you think you’ll be finished with your research?” Jordy asked with a wry smile.
“When you catch the arsonist, I guess,” I answered.
“Well, let’s get back to work then,” Jordy shot back.
Chapter Nine
Jordyn Stringfellow
Both women glared at me as if I had just insulted them, and in a way, I guess it could have been perceived as an insult to Robbie. It was certainly not how I meant it. I was really starting to enjoy working with her. She had a cool head on her shoulders and a soothing voice in a crisis. And now, because I was resentful of her accusations, I was also anxious to prove her wrong.
“Okay, so that’s not how I meant to say that,” I recanted. “I really just want to get back to work on this case.”
Tina’s eyes twinkled with laughter as she said, “Why does that not surprise me?”
Robbie scooped up a bite of pancake and swirled it around in the syrup before glancing sideways at me. “Let me finish this last bite and we can go over my findings,” she said.
“Do you want another stack?” Tina asked as she dipped her toast in the egg yolk. She shot me a playful look, and I frowned. Patience was never one of my strong suits.
“No, thank you, this was plenty, and very satisfying.”
I scarfed down my last three bites as Robbie finished hers, and then, still chewing, I stood up and picked up her empty plate. I stacked it on top of mine and looked at Tina, who still had some food on her plate.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Jordy,” Tina chided. “Go on. I’ll be done in a minute.”
“Not trying to rush you,” I replied over my shoulder as I carried the plates into the kitchen. “Anyone want a beer or something to drink while I’m in here?”
“No, thank you,” Robbie responded. “You sure do like your beer, don’t you?”
“You have no idea,” Tina said lightly.
Walking back into the dining room as I cracked open the can of beer in my hand, I said, “Did you know that the first canned beer debuted in Richmond, Virginia in 1934?”
“You don’t say?” Robbie snickered playfully.
“You’ll like this part, Tina,” I continued. “The beer was produced at Gottfried Krueger’s brewing company, a German-American brewery in Newark, New Jersey.”
“Oh, how nice,” Tina quipped and picked up her plate. “Maybe I’ll look him up while I’m over there.”
I rolled my eyes as she stood up. “Obviously, you don’t appreciate the importance of the history of beer.”
“And you’ve known me for how long?” she teased, and swatting me on the butt as she walked by.
Smiling on the outside, my heart was aching. I had accepted that we were never head over heels in love. That we were lovers who loved each other, but not enough for a lifetime. And I could accept that we could remain friends, and I truly wanted to keep in touch with her. But what I was having trouble accepting was that she wouldn’t be around to give me those simple touches anymore. To make me laugh with just a roll of her eyes. To hear her scream with pleasure at my touch. Funny, the little things you take for granted.
“Honey,” Tina said, as she placed her dish in the sink an
d ran water over it. “I’m going to watch some television in the bedroom and let you two get some work done.”
“Are you sure, Tina? It won’t bother me if you watch TV out here,” I offered.
“I agree. Please don’t let me run you out of your own home,” Robbie inserted.
“Thanks, but it’s really okay,” Tina assured us. “Make yourself at home, Robbie, and don’t let her keep you up all night.”
“It was nice meeting you, Tina,” Robbie said. “I hope I’ll see you again before you leave?”
“I’ll be flying out next week, so perhaps you will. Maybe we can all go out for dinner before I go.”
“Or come over for another pancake breakfast for dinner,” Robbie said with a smile.
“I vote for that one,” I inserted enthusiastically.
Tina laughed. “You got it.”
Even before Tina shut the door to the bedroom, I was reading the reports Robbie had handed me before we ate dinner. This time I read them slowly, methodically, instead of just skimming over them. I grabbed an ink pen from the counter and began making notes out to the side. “So, your stepfather was Jeremiah Phillips?” I asked, putting down my pen and picking up my can of beer. The name sounded familiar, and I wondered if Dad had mentioned him before.
“Yes, here’s his bio if you want to read it,” she said, pulling a sheet of paper from her messenger bag. “I believe it was written for the fire chief promotion.”
I sat my beer down and looked at the curriculum vitae. When the CV had been written, he was forty years old and had been with the fire department for twenty-two years, exactly like my father.
“He was an investigator before he became chief,” I read aloud. “Interesting.”
“I didn’t know that either, until I read it,” Robbie explained, as she handed me another sheet of paper. “And here’s a letter from your father. I think he was recommending my stepdad for promotion. It’s kind of hard to tell. Would you, um, mind reading that to me? I had trouble making out the handwriting.”
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