My heart skipped a beat at the word, friends. I wanted us to be friends, but then I wanted to be cautious until our fathers’ deaths could be explained. “I promise I would never write about anything so personal, and yes, I consider us friends,” I replied sincerely.
“All right, then. Let’s talk about something else, okay?”
“Sure,” I agreed. “Tell me about your mother.”
“Well, Mom lives in the midtown historic neighborhood, and—”
“No,” I interrupted. “What is she like? What does she do?”
“She was a compliance officer at a bank, but a few years after my father was killed, she retired on his insurance and survivor benefits.”
“My mom didn’t get much from Jerry’s benefits, but she did from his life insurance. She still works though; I think to keep from being lonely.”
Jordy nodded. “My mom volunteers at the fire department, doing fundraising, and hosting events, stuff like that.”
“Has your mom dated anybody since… um...” I wasn’t sure how to put that without sounding like I disapproved.
“Oh, yeah, but just here recently. She’s got a boyfriend but I’m not sure if she’s serious about him yet. What about your mom?”
“She has a few male friends from the hospital. She’ll go to parties with them, but nothing serious.”
Jordy cleared her throat and glanced at me quickly. “What about you? Anyone serious?”
“Me?” Is she fishing? Does that mean she’s interested?
“Well, yeah. You know all about my love life. What about you, got a fella up there in New York?”
She doesn’t know. She is fishing! “I have several fellas in New York,” I paused for effect, stealing a glance at her, “who are friends, but I don’t date men. I prefer women, and no, I don’t have a steady girlfriend.” I watched for her reaction and felt a flutter of butterflies in my stomach when her eyes met mine and she smiled.
“Okay, we’re here,” she said, pulling into the driveway of her mother’s home on Kensington Avenue.
“Someone sure has a green thumb,” I said, stepping out of the car and admiring the flowers. A flower garden was wedged in between the sidewalk leading from the driveway and the house. The garden was chock full of an assortment of flowers like multi-colored chrysanthemums, pink hibiscus, orange tiger lilies, and my favorite, purple dahlias.
“Uh, yeah. That would be me,” Jordy replied.
“Seriously? A tough, no-nonsense, gun-toting investigator like you, likes to get her hands dirty?”
“In more ways than one, sweetheart,” she replied, doing a funny impersonation of Groucho Marx with a cigar.
“Jordy!” a woman called, as she came running out of the house, her arms open wide. She was in tears and visibly shaking. After seeing her mother, I knew that Jordy took after her father in almost every way. Jordy was tall, like her dad, with brown hair and a natural tan. Her mother was my height and slightly pudgy, but not unhealthy. At least Jordy got her beautiful, shimmering blue eyes from her mother.
She grabbed Jordy around the waist, and Jordy wrapped her arms around her.
“I’m okay, Mom. I’m all right,” she said quickly, kissing her mother on the forehead as she rubbed her back. Her mother tucked her head into Jordy’s shoulder and cried.
This was more than a mother missing her child. This was about almost losing her child. I had not even considered what her mother must have been going through.
“I saw you on the news,” the woman sobbed. “They said you had died.”
“Damn it!” Jordy shouted and held her mother at arm’s length. “God, Mom, I’m so sorry.”
“Well, I didn’t believe them. I would have known if my only child had died.” Jordy’s mother wiped her eyes and smiled up at her. “Besides, I told your father he had better send you back if he saw you at the Pearly Gates.”
“Luckily, I didn’t make it that far,” Jordy teased, pulling her back in for another hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you right away. I sort of passed out when I got home.”
“Are you all right?” her mother asked, stepping back and looking Jordy up and down as if looking for an injury.
“I’m fine, Mom. I was just exhausted.”
“I know. Joe called me and let me know that you were going home to rest.”
“Then why were you so upset?” Jordy asked.
Watching the two of them together reminded me so much of my relationship with my mother. The second I told her I was moving to New York, she started worrying. On one hand, I was sorry she felt the need to worry. On the other hand, I knew there was someone in the world who loved me enough to worry about me. After losing Jerry and then my best friend, I wasn’t brave enough to date or even make new friends. My mother was all I had left in the world.
“Ask me that again when you’re a mother,” she replied.
“Well, it’ll take an immaculate conception for that to happen, Mom,” Jordy quipped.
“Don’t be so sure,” her mother replied, looking at me with a smile. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jordy said, wrapping her arm across her mother’s shoulder and looking at me. “Lillian Stringfellow, this is Roberta Witherspoon from New York. She’s tagging along with me while she does research for a book she’s writing.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Actually, I was raised in Germantown, and—”
“I know who you are, Robbie,” Lillian inserted. “Your mother and I were best friends, once upon a time.”
My mouth gaped open. “What?”
“She never told you? I’m not surprised,” Lillian said. “She blames Jordy’s father for her husband’s death.”
“Mom, you never told me that,” Jordy declared.
“And I never told you that I blame her husband for Henry’s death, either. There’s a lot I never told you, honey,” Lillian pointed out as she turned toward the front door. “Let’s go inside and talk.”
“That’s why we’re here, Mom. I’ve got a few questions,” Jordy stated, following behind her mother.
I couldn’t move. I watched them walked toward the house, but my mind was spinning with questions and I couldn’t move. Had I entered another dimension, where everything I thought I knew about my mother was a lie? What else has she been keeping a secret?
“Hey.” Suddenly Jordy was standing in front of me with her hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s a shock, but let’s find out what really happened before we freak out, okay?”
“I wasn’t freaking out,” I complained. “I was merely surprised to hear—”
“Who are you fooling? Your eyes were as big as baseballs and your jaw almost touched the ground.”
“You’re exaggerating,” I retorted and walked toward the door.
“Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re darn cute when you’re in shock.”
I stopped and turned around. “Okay, now you’re just being silly.”
“I don’t know,” she said with a grin. “Some people would call me charming.”
“And some people call you Inspector Hot Pants, too, but I’m not going to,” I teased, enjoying the cringe on her face. Then I remembered who had called her that. “Listen, I didn’t get a chance to tell you how sorry I was about Scott.”
She nodded. “Yeah, well, if he had to die, I’m glad it was as a hero.”
*
Jordy had not eaten all morning, so Lillian offered to make brunch. She whipped up some ham and cheese omelets and I sliced up my bagels and made peanut butter and banana bagel sandwiches. Jordy, who was apparently culinary challenged, fixed the coffee and grabbed a beer for herself. We talked as we cooked and carried the conversation over to the table with the food.
“From what I’ve read in the newspaper article, Director Stringfellow ordered my stepdad, who was the fire chief, into a burning building. Now I admit, I don’t know a lot about the rank and file of a fire department, but I do know that the chief doesn’t go int
o a burning building. He runs the show, as it were, from a mobile command center. So, why was my stepdad ordered into a burning building?”
Lillian glanced from Jordy to me. “What is she talking about?”
“Mom, she is a reporter,” Jordy said caustically. “She believes everything written in the newspaper.”
“No, I do not,” I snapped. “It was all I had to go on.”
“What about the official report?” Jordy retorted. “Did you even bother to read—”
“Don’t be a jerk,” I snarled. “I didn’t find an official death report.”
Lillian held up her hand. “Okay, girls, now be civil,” she warned.
“How could it not be on file?” Jordy asked pointedly.
I shrugged and held up my hands. “I don’t know, but I did a search on your laptop at the station and it wasn’t on file.”
“Well, obviously you did it wrong,” Jordy jeered.
“Jordy, honey. Stop being a jerk,” Lillian asserted.
I don’t know what possessed me, but, feeling vindicated, I stuck my tongue out at Jordy. Lillian laughed and patted my hand.
Jordy nodded at her mother, and finally, smiled at me. “I’m sorry, Robbie. I just don’t understand how you could have missed the report?”
“Because it wasn’t there,” I said again.
“If it helps, I have a hard copy,” Lillian offered.
Jordy shot her a look. “What? Why?”
“It was in with the papers they sent me after he died. You know, the survivor benefits settlement explanation, insurance papers, and all that stuff.”
“Can you get it for me, Mom?”
“Of course,” Lillian said and stood up. “I keep it in a fireproof box with my other legal papers and a few precious mementos.”
Lillian walked out of the room and I turned to Jordy. “I also did a search for my stepdad’s official report, and it wasn’t on file either.”
Jordy’s mouth gaped open as her eyes swirled with confusion. “What the hell is going on?”
Chapter Eleven
Jordyn Stringfellow
I borrowed my mother’s laptop sitting on the kitchen counter and logged into the fire department files. I had never actually seen the official record of my father’s death. I didn’t need to. Uncle Joe, along with the commissioner at that time, and the chaplain, came to our house and told us what had happened. I scanned the files, did a search, then narrowed it down as tight as possible. I could not find the report. Robbie was right; it wasn’t there. My mind went in a thousand different directions. Computer crash erased it, or someone deleted it. Maybe it never got filed in the first place.
“Here it is, honey,” Mom said, walking back in carrying a legal-sized manila envelope. It had been folded in half, probably so that it would fit in the box.
I pulled out the stack of papers and thumbed through until I found the incident report. “That’s odd.”
“What? What’s odd?” Robbie asked.
“It says that firefighters had put a fire out on the second floor of the building the previous day, with minimal damage and no injuries or fatalities.”
Robbie shook her head, staring at me as if she could pull the answers from my face. I didn’t have any.
“So there were two fires? How can that be?” she asked.
“It looks like it. I only knew about the fire that killed my dad. To be honest, I never looked into my father’s death. I just accepted what Uncle Joe told us as the truth.”
Mom squeezed my shoulder. “It was the truth, honey. Joe just left out some of the particulars because you were so upset. Remember, I couldn’t get you out of your room for a month after the funeral.”
“Yeah, I remember,” I replied quietly, preferring not to relive that depression. I swallowed the lump in my throat and glanced over at Robbie. Her eyes were misting, no doubt thinking about her own grief at that time. “Mom, tell me what you know, because Robbie thinks Dad ordered Jerry into that building and I thought he was trying to save him. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“Well, you’re both wrong,” she said pointedly. “Henry called me and said he’d be late for supper because Jerry had called and asked to meet him at the site. Said he had something strange to show him and get his opinion on.”
“Strange?”
Mom nodded. “That’s what I asked him, too. He said Jerry found something that hadn’t been there the day before. It was something about a smile.”
“Oh, my, God!” I exclaimed.
“What is it, honey?”
“What’s wrong, Jordy?”
I jumped up and began pacing. “Oh, my, God,” I said again.
“Jordy, you’re scaring us,” Robbie implored.
She was right; the fear in my mother’s eyes made my heart skip a beat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that…” I sat down beside Mom and held her hand. “I think Dad was murdered.”
“I know, honey. It was the arsonist.”
“No, Mom. I mean, yes, but I think it was deliberate. Jerry or Dad or maybe both of them were drawn back to that building. They were the intended targets.”
“Why do you think that?” Robbie asked, her eyes narrowed in disbelief.
“Here’s what I think happened based on the pieces to a puzzle that we have so far.” I stood up and began pacing again. I think better when I’m moving around. “Thanks to your research, we know that files are missing from the database. Regardless, we were still able to learn that there were two fires – the first one easily contained and the second one fully involved. There was no evidence of a smiley face at the first one.”
I sat down and picked up the report again, scanning it for answers I was sure would be there. “Shit,” I said, when I found it. “Okay, let me read this to you,” I said and began reading the report out loud again. “The building was a two-story rental house that was in the beginning stages of being renovated. The electricity and running water had been left on and the construction crew had brought in their own coffeemaker. The contractor’s interview stated that no one had drawn a smiley face on the kitchen cabinet under the coffeepot. The forensic tests concluded that the coffeemaker had been rigged to explode by remote detonation. The pot was filled with accelerant, causing the kitchen to be engulfed within seconds.” I put the paper down, tears pooling in my throat, choking me. “That’s where they found Dad and Jerry.”
Robbie lowered her head, as tears dripped from her face. I moved over to the couch and wrapped my arm around her. Mom moved to the other side, and we all three held each other for a moment.
Three days ago, I was excited about working my first serial arsonist case. Now, I was confused, angry, and stunned to learn that I’d actually been trying to catch the man who murdered my father.
Mom kept a box of tissues on the coffee table, and we all grabbed a tissue and dried our eyes.
“So… what do we do now?” Robbie asked between sniffles.
My mind burst into a kaleidoscope of thoughts and ideas. “I need to talk to the investigator who was on that case. I need to go to the station and talk with Uncle Joe, and also Rosie, our computer forensics specialist, to see if the files were deliberately deleted. I also need to go back to the building from yesterday and look for clues. Plus, I need to talk with your mother.”
“We. We need to talk with my mother,” Robbie said. “I’m part of this, too, and you’re not going anywhere without me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I sympathized. Robbie had as big a stake in the capture of the bastard as I did.
“Honey, when you talk with Gloria, let me go with you,” Mom said, her eyes still misting with tears. “I think it’s high time we end this feud and get back to being friends, if we can.”
“I think that’s nice, Lillian,” Robbie inserted.
“Sure, Mom, but it will be later this afternoon. I want to go to the office first and get things started there.”
Robbie got another tissue and dabbed at h
er eyes. “I’ll call Mom and let her know we’re coming. She may be working this afternoon, I don’t know.”
“It won’t take long,” I said. “Just need to know if Jerry told her anything before he died.”
Mom leaned past Robbie and looked at me curiously. “I thought Joe told you to stay home for three days?”
“That was before I knew what was at stake, Mom. The arsonist I’ve been chasing is the same man who killed my father. No way can I sit on my ass for three days knowing that.”
Mom let her breath out dramatically. “You are your father’s daughter.”
*
“Your mom is really nice,” Robbie said, fastening her seatbelt.
“Thank you, I think so, too,” I replied, clipping my seatbelt and starting the engine. Before I could pull out of the driveway, my cell phone rang. I hit the Bluetooth on the dashboard. “Stringfellow,” I said, swiveling in my seat as I backed out.
“Jordy, is this a good time?”
“Tina? Is that you?” I glanced over at Robbie and gave her an apologetic smile. “Where the hell did you disappear to?” I barked into the phone, returning my attention back to the road.
“I needed to end it completely.”
“End it completely? What does that even mean?”
“The way I reacted with Robbie made me realize that I can’t have it all.”
“Robbie was okay with it,” I said, cringing when Robbie leaned forward and looked at me questioningly.
“I can’t go to Germany worrying that you and Robbie, or some other woman, might hook up. So, I am breaking it off cleanly.”
I pulled onto the highway and shoved my foot down on the gas pedal. “So, I don’t get a say in any of this?”
“I’m sorry, Jordy, but it’s the best for both of us.”
“Fine,” I groused. “But when you get lonely over there, don’t bother calling me. Like I said before, I’m not waiting around. There is someone out there for me and I’m going to find her.”
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