by J. J. Cook
“What have you decided? Are you coming down here for a visit?”
John knocked on the door. He stuck his head in and said, “When you’re finished, Stella, come find me. I have something important to tell you.”
“Who was that?” her mother asked as Stella nodded to him and he shut the door. “He has a nice voice.”
“That was John Trump. Maybe you knew his father, Bobby, or his grandfather, Ray.”
“No. Probably not. I was a little sheltered from most of the people in Sweet Pepper. As to me coming down there, I’m considering it.”
“You know he’s remarried, right? He has a stepson too.”
“Yes. He told me. What about you, honey? Are you still coming home?”
“I can’t tell you how many people ask me that every day,” Stella said, annoyed. “But, yes, I’ll be home before Thanksgiving.”
Stella briefly told her mother how everything was going with the new fire brigade. She also told her about Tory Lambert.
Barbara knew that name. “That’s terrible. She was a powerful woman. She and Dad had a few run-ins. I think they wanted different things for the town. Do you have any suspects in the case?”
“Not exactly. I’ll let you know what happens. Mom, did you ever meet Eric Gamlyn?”
“The name sounds familiar. Didn’t he work for the old fire department?”
“Yeah. That’s him. People think his ghost haunts the cabin where I’m staying.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, Stella. There’s a teenage girl people swear they see on the old bridge on the way out of town. She’s supposed to be a hitchhiking ghost who gets in your car and disappears. Sweet Pepper—well, the whole area—has a lot of folklore.”
“Is that what it is?”
“Don’t tell me being down there has made you believe in the supernatural?” Her mother laughed. “You never even believed in that stuff when you were a child. Remember those awful ghost stories your father used to tell?”
“Used to?” This time, Stella laughed. It was so good to hear her mother’s voice. It really made her homesick too. “Well, I have to go, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, honey. I love you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you about this sooner.”
“That’s okay. I love you too. Don’t worry about me.”
Stella watched her mother’s face disappear from her phone screen. It was hard to picture her as a rich heiress who thought her father might have killed her mother. It was a surprise she never could have imagined when she’d made the decision to come to Sweet Pepper.
She put her phone into the pocket of her jeans and left the room. At least she knew now where to have a decent phone conversation. She might need to call home more often now. Finding out about the Carsons had changed a lot of things.
Stella went to find John. He wasn’t at his desk. She asked Sandy if she knew where he was. “He’s in the meeting room with Chief Rogers and everyone else. I’m sure they won’t mind if you join them.”
Following Sandy’s instructions, Stella located the all-purpose meeting room where the town held everything from council meetings to any other official function requiring space for more than a hundred people.
Standing outside the room now reminded her of her arrival in Sweet Pepper, when the council had greeted her here with a big buffet of food from all the restaurants in town.
There had been that one moment when she’d first walked into the room and everyone had done a double-take. They hadn’t run away, but they’d stared at her like she was a ghost.
Now she knew why.
Tory had been the first one to come forward and shake her hand. She hadn’t seemed to be as affected by Stella’s appearance as the others, even though she probably knew the truth about who Stella was. The mayor and the other council members had recovered quickly after that and come to greet her.
At the time, their behavior had seemed odd. Stella had chalked it up to being in a small town. She now realized that they had probably known Abigail Carson and had been surprised by how much Stella looked like her.
Before Stella left Sweet Pepper, she had to take another look at her grandmother’s picture at the Carson estate. She’d been too dazed and afraid to get a really good look when she was in her mother’s old bedroom.
The door to the meeting room was closed, but she ventured in anyway. All of the Sweet Pepper police officers, most of whom were part-time, were there. The mayor, and Councilmen Nay Albert and Bob Floyd were all there too. Don Rogers was pacing back and forth in front of them, gesturing at a big white board.
John motioned for her to come down and sit beside him. His action drew Chief Rogers’s attention. He looked back and said, “Chief Griffin. Glad you could join us. Since this is partially your case too, I’d like your input.”
Skewered on his angry glance, Stella sat down in the empty front row of seats. “I’d be glad to help in any way I can. What’s going on?”
Chief Rogers laughed. “You mean your boyfriend didn’t fill you in?”
There were several snickers from the other officers. John didn’t flinch even though everyone knew Chief Rogers was talking about him.
It didn’t bother Stella either. “Let’s assume he didn’t, and you can explain from here.”
The chief bowed slightly to her. “Yes, ma’am.” He pointed to the white board behind him, where several pictures of Tory and her house were displayed. “I think you were the first one to say Ms. Lambert’s death might not be an accident. It seems we’ve had a murder in Sweet Pepper. You must’ve brought the crime element with you from Chicago.”
Chapter 16
She ignored the crack about bringing crime with her, got up, and examined the photos closely. She’d been so busy looking at John when she first came in that she hadn’t paid much attention to them. “What happened?”
“The coroner found bits of silk in the abrasions on Ms. Lambert’s neck and wrists. As he completed the autopsy, he also found bruising on her body consistent with a struggle of some kind. Two of her fingernails were broken. From this, he made the decision to declare her death a homicide.”
“I thought she died from an insulin overdose,” Stella said.
“Well, now, the coroner believes Ms. Lambert was tied up and held against her will while that overdose was delivered. It seems it wasn’t a single puncture wound but several, all of them made by someone not as familiar with injecting drugs as your typical diabetic would be.”
Stella sat back down. She’d thought something about Tory’s death was suspicious, but she’d never guessed it would be this bad. She was tough by most standards—she had to be in her line of work—but knowing that someone had brutally murdered this capable woman made her want to cry.
Chief Rogers continued to stare at her. “Any particular clues that made you think Ms. Lambert’s death wasn’t what it seemed to the rest of us, Ms. Griffin? If so, I think now would be a good time to share.”
“I think you’ve got it all down, Chief.” Her voice was thick with emotion. She didn’t want to play this game with him right now.
“Could you be more explicit?” Chief Rogers continued to harass her. “And speak up, please. We can’t hear you.”
Stella cleared her throat and forced herself to stand up again, despite her injuries. “Tory—Mrs. Lambert—felt cooler to me than she should have given the amount of time the fire had been burning at the house. That, combined with the marks on her wrists and neck, made me suspicious. I’m not a police officer, but I’ve seen deaths like this before. This is not the first time that someone has tried to use a fire to cover up a murder.”
Chief Rogers nodded. “I’m sure that’s true, Ms. Griffin. That makes my next observation important—are we any closer to finding out who started the fire? It seems to me, and apparently to you too, that if we find that person, we find the killer.”
Stella told them what she’d learned from Tagger. “It seems to suggest that the kerosene was poured into the lam
ps and left on the basement table to help get the fire going. We’re still missing a key piece of evidence. We haven’t found the kerosene container used to fill the lamps. If we can find that, it might provide more information.”
“Thank you, Ms. Griffin. You can rely on my officers for anything you need,” Chief Rogers said. “To my knowledge, we haven’t had a murder here in Sweet Pepper for a very long time—I believe that was when Sarah Morrison was killed by her husband.”
“The only relative Ms. Lambert had was Victor,” one of the officers said. “Do you want us to talk to him?”
“I think that would be a good idea since we know he stands to inherit everything from his mother,” Chief Rogers said. “Officers Richardson and Schneider, the two of you will have a polite conversation with Victor Lambert. I know he’s told us that he was at Beau’s when the fire occurred. I want details about his alibi and whatever else you think could be pertinent.”
“I’ll have a talk with the insurance investigator again,” Stella said. “Now that we know the fire was set intentionally, he might want to rethink his observations.”
“That sounds like a good place to start,” Chief Rogers said. “Officer Trump—you will be our liaison with the fire department. I’ll rely on you to work with Ms. Griffin. Keep me updated on any progress.”
“I was wondering about Tory’s first husband,” Stella added. “I probably don’t have the whole story of what happened, but wasn’t he killed in a fire?”
“That’s right,” Chief Rogers said. “I don’t see where that is relevant to this. That was a long time ago.”
“I’m sure it was. That fire was ruled an accident, although there were some unanswered questions,” Stella continued. “Did that fire happen in the same house?”
Chief Rogers smiled in a condescending manner. “I’m sure Officer Trump can fill you in on all the town history at some time when we aren’t looking for a killer. In the meantime, let’s keep our eye on the ball.”
Stella felt all the eyes in the room on her. Chief Rogers had slapped her down a little, insinuating that he was in charge. She knew better, at least where the fire was concerned.
She didn’t respond to him. The group began breaking up and heading out, some to follow through on their chief’s directives, others to go back home until it was time for their shift. The men studiously ignored her, even though she knew several of them by name.
Mayor Wando and Councilman Floyd came over right away. “We appreciate your help with this terrible thing that has happened in our town,” the mayor said, sounding as if he were running for reelection.
“Yes,” Bob Floyd agreed. “Losing Victoria Lambert is devastating for us. I expect there will be a huge memorial for her. When it’s appropriate, of course.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” Stella said. “I was wondering if either of you remember the fire that killed Tory’s first husband. Adam Presley, right?”
Wando and Floyd exchanged looks, obviously wondering if they should relate the information they had to her.
Don Rogers came up and slapped a hand on both men’s shoulders, causing them to jump. “It’s okay, gentlemen. We certainly have no secrets from our fire chief. I believe his name was Presley. Is that what you recall?”
The mayor responded nervously. “That’s right. I’d almost forgotten. It’s been so long.”
“I remember Adam,” Bob said. “He owned the car dealership down on Second Street. He was very successful.”
“Of course he was.” The mayor smiled. “Tory wouldn’t have had him if he wasn’t. That woman always knew what she wanted.”
Stella wasn’t sure if she should be grateful to Don for loosening their tongues or if this was all a game for him. “Thank you. I’ll see all of you later.”
Whatever information she needed about Adam Presley’s death, she could get from other public sources. Not that she felt any of these people would outright lie to her. It was more a question of details not revealed.
Like knowing she was related to Ben Carson. Never once since she’d come to Sweet Pepper had anyone—including Tory—mentioned it. Yet she was fairly sure now that most of them must have known.
“Like I said, Ms. Griffin,” Don added, “no point in scaring up old problems when we have an important new one right here in front of us.”
“I promise to keep my eye on the ball,” she said. “Thanks for your help.”
John caught up with her as she was leaving the town hall. “Stella? Do we need to talk about what’s next in the arson investigation?”
“I’m not sure right now. I’m going over to Tory’s house. I’d like to see what else I can find. There’s more there.”
“I’m off duty. I’ll be glad to go with you.”
“Okay. I have to run home and get some things. I’ll meet you there in about thirty minutes.”
“Sure.”
Stella’s laptop was ready at the computer shop. Charlie showed her how to get real-time images from the newly updated system.
“You won’t be able to see a ghost, mind you,” he said. “But anything else should show up.”
Stella was a little exasperated with the ghost talk. “Aren’t there some programs I could use to see the ghost? That way I could talk to my ghost and also ask Tory Lambert who killed her.”
Charlie looked surprised. “I didn’t know the police were investigating Tory’s death as a murder. How did that happen?”
For once, Stella knew something before everyone else, it seemed. “I don’t know yet. She was dead before the fire. Her ghost would probably know it all. Thanks, Charlie.”
She felt him staring after her as she left his shop. He probably couldn’t believe she had that information. Now he’d have to call everyone else in town to let them know. That had to be how the grapevine worked and she’d just contributed to it.
“Chief Griffin!” Elvita Quick and Theodora Mangrum sang out as they saw her.
The women were dressed in matching pink-and-purple dresses today, with purple hats that sported large pink flowers.
“Ladies.” Stella smiled at them. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s about the recipe contest,” Elvita said. “We were thinking how nice it would be if you had a recipe in one of the other contests.”
“Of course, you couldn’t have one in the chocolate contest as you’re judging that one. It wouldn’t be ethical.” Theodora shook her head, mindful of her hat.
“Of course.” Stella wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t much of a cook and didn’t have a recipe to her name.
“So you’ll do it!” The two women grinned at each other as they spoke at the same time.
“How wonderful! We’ll need a copy of the recipe and a taste of the finished product, of course,” Elvita said. “We haven’t had a Sweet Pepper fire chief enter the contest for a very long time.”
“Since Eric.” Theodora looked around as though he might be there beside them.
“Yes.” Elvita shuddered. “We look forward to your recipe, Chief Griffin!”
Stella watched the two women disappear into the coffee shop. What had she agreed to?
She got in the new Cherokee to drive to the cabin. It was very large and radically different from her motorcycle. Unlike Ricky, she’d never driven an engine or pumper back home. Before the motorcycle, she’d taken the bus everywhere.
She was going to have to find someone who’d be able to make the repairs on her Harley, and she needed an insurance quote. She knew she’d be faulted for the accident. Without another driver to point to, she had no way to prove she’d been run off the road. There was only her word for what had happened.
She stopped at the firehouse, where Ricky gave her the name of a mechanic friend in Pigeon Forge who could do repairs to the Harley. She called the man at his home and mentioned Ricky’s name. He said he’d be willing to come and pick it up for her the next day.
There was so much to think about given everything that was going on. S
he forgot about her ghostly roommate until she walked into the cabin.
“Nice truck.”
She jumped and dropped the flashlight she’d picked up from the counter. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Seriously. Why are you doing this?”
“Wouldn’t you want to talk to the only person in the last forty years who could actually hear you?”
Stella stopped foraging for duct tape and paused to consider his words. “So you were around in the 1970s?”
“That’s right. If you mean alive, anyway.”
“Did you know Tory Lambert?”
“Lambert?”
“No. Tory Presley. That would’ve been her name back then, I guess. She was married to Adam Presley. He died in a fire.”
“Sure. I knew them both. Adam wasn’t my favorite person in the world—typical car salesman type. No one should have to die that way.”
“What way?”
“The report said he fell asleep while he was smoking. All I can say is that he didn’t die from smoke inhalation.”
“So the fire wasn’t accidental.”
“I didn’t think so at the time. I couldn’t prove it wasn’t an accident, but there were some unusual findings surrounding his death.”
She stopped trying to untangle some duct tape. “What kind of findings?”
“Adam had stopped smoking about a year before the fire. I interviewed Tory and all of his friends. No one had seen him smoke in that length of time. Also, he had lighter fluid spilled all over him. It made him like a human torch when the fire hit it. We never found a lighter either. It bothered me that he calmly sat there with lighter fluid all over him and never even moved when he burned.”
“That sounds strange. He couldn’t have been asleep and burned like that. Why did you drop the case?”
“Why are you so interested in an old fire?”
Stella explained about honoring Tory’s wish that she look into it. She located her crowbar and hacksaw. “I guess it sounds kind of lame, as I’m saying it. I don’t really see what difference it makes. Just because Adam died in a fire doesn’t mean it has anything to do with the fire at Tory’s house, I suppose.”