by J. J. Cook
Stella turned to Rufus, who was in his bunker coat and helmet. “Do you have your uncle’s number at the bar?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Call him. See if Elvis Vaughn is there. We need his help with these lines.”
“Okay.”
Eric reappeared beside Stella. “This looks bad. There must be something you can use to move those wires.”
With John and Rufus beside her, she couldn’t tell him that she didn’t want to endanger her volunteers that way. Come on, Elvis.
“He’s there, Chief.” Rufus held the phone away from his ear. “Willy says he’s in no shape to drive. Should I go get him?”
“No. Have Willy find someone to bring him down here. We can’t wait for the round-trip.”
“I’m going to move this crowd back until someone gets here to do it,” John told her. “Chief Rogers is on his way too.”
“We’ve got Hampton and Bradford in turnout gear.” Stella nodded at the two part-time officer recruits. “Let them handle it, John. I might need you up front at the car once Elvis gets here.”
“I could move those lines for you, Stella,” Eric insisted. “They wouldn’t do anything to me.”
Stella muttered, “I don’t think people want proof of life after death tonight, Eric. Thanks anyway.”
Jake regained consciousness inside the old Chevy and started pounding on the window. He stopped after being shocked a few times.
Before he could touch anything else Stella went as close as she safely could to the car that was covered in live wires and yelled, “Live wires!” at Jake, and hoped he understood. She could see his head and face were bleeding. The Chevy was too old to have airbags.
“I think he understood.” Stella stayed where she was near the car. She cautioned the rest of her volunteers to stand back. “We might have to use the hot stick.”
“Hot stick?” Eric asked.
“We got one last year from the electric company. They’re nonconducting. When they’re used correctly with linemen’s gloves they can withstand thirty-five thousand volts.”
“Sounds better than a broomstick. I have an idea how I could help without people knowing a ghost is involved.”
Jake was trying to wake Banyin. She wasn’t responding. Stella needed to make a decision. Banyin and her family were her top priority.
“Allen!” Stella called back to the volunteer. “Get the hot stick and gloves off the back of the truck.”
John advanced toward her as Eric told her his plan.
“I don’t know what you have in mind, Chief,” John said. “If it’s what I think, you can’t do it. Even if you are able to separate the lines they could still turn back on you.”
“We have to try something,” Stella said as Allen brought her the hot stick.
“Chief,” Allen also protested. “You can’t do this. One line, maybe. There are at least three up there. Let’s wait for Elvis.”
Rufus yelled out, “Chief, Willy says Elvis is too drunk to work with sewer line much less electric line.”
“I guess we’re up,” she whispered to Eric. “Step back,” she yelled at Allen and John.
Stella put on the linemen’s gloves—she’d had more training with them than anyone else in the group. She picked up the bright orange hot stick and stepped toward the car. At the same time, Eric moved beneath the wires. Half of his body was in the car, the other half sticking out the top.
“Ready?” he called out.
“Yes.” Stella used the hot stick to hook the first line and move it off the car. John had been right. Like a dangerous snake the wire twisted back and would’ve hit the car on the hood, but Eric was there to catch it. Together they moved the wire a few yards away from the car. “Two more to go,” Stella said as much to herself as Eric.
“We can do this,” he said.
Eric picked up the second line at the same instant that Stella grabbed it with the hot stick. There was no noticeable time lapse between them. As they moved the wire to the street the crowd was applauding and encouraging her.
Stella took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding and her hands shook, but she managed to move the last wire from the car to the street with the help of Sweet Pepper’s first fire chief.
John and Allen wasted no time getting in the car. Jake’s door opened easily. Rufus helped him out of the Chevy.
Banyin, on the passenger side, was a different story. She was still unconscious. Her door had been damaged when the car had hit the pole. John stepped in with the Jaws of Life and pried the door open. JC and Rufus peeled the metal away from the opening so John could reach Banyin.
“She’s okay,” John called out. “We have another problem.”
Stella joined him. “What’s wrong?”
“Her water broke. She’s gonna have the baby.”
“Tagger? Where’s our ambulance and paramedics?” Stella shouted on the radio.
“About twenty minutes away,” he replied. “Is Banyin okay?”
“She’s fine, as far as we can tell,” Stella said. “But she’s going into labor.”
Banyin woke up with a dozen faces staring at her. “My head hurts. What are you all doing here?”
“Keep still,” Stella said. “You were in an accident, and you’re going to have your baby.”
As though she’d suddenly realized it, Banyin let out a loud wail. “What’s wrong with me? It feels like I’m ripping apart.”
John grinned. “Welcome to motherhood. Now lie back and let’s hope the paramedics get here in time to deliver this baby.”
“What about Doc Schultz?” JC asked. “We could get him. Probably have him back here before the ambulance.”
“Go!” Stella flipped him the keys to the Cherokee as she took off the linemen’s gloves and put down the hot stick.
They leaned back Banyin’s broken seat and made her as comfortable as they could.
“Maybe we should put her on the street,” Kent suggested as he cleaned her cuts with a first-aid kit.
“I think it will be easier with her on the car seat.” John put on latex gloves.
“Have you ever delivered a baby?” Eric asked Stella.
“Yes. Twice.”
“Did you say something, Chief?” Rufus asked, standing beside her.
“Yes. We’re not going to need the pumper. Kent, when you’re done over there, you can take it home. Royce and Bert, you stay here in case we need you.”
Kimmie said, “Chief, I can get a couple of blankets so Banyin doesn’t have to have her baby with the whole town watching.”
David agreed as he held Hero and Sylvia from investigating the scene.
“Good idea,” Stella said. “Then you and David take the dogs back to the firehouse. Will you take Hero home with you tonight?”
“Sure, Chief,” David agreed and then led the dogs back to the pumper.
Banyin gritted her teeth. “We were on our way to the hospital. I want something for the pain. I don’t want to have my baby in the car.”
Stella came in close. “Don’t panic. That baby is going to come no matter where you are. We’ll get through it. Take my hand.”
Banyin had another contraction, and Stella took the latex gloves John handed her.
“I’m going to make sure everything’s okay,” she told Banyin. “Let’s see how close we are to delivery.”
Stella timed how close the contractions were—less than a minute. “Let’s hope JC can find Doc Schultz.”
“I thought he didn’t practice anymore.” Jake winced as Banyin’s fingernails made impressions in his hand.
“He doesn’t practice, but he’ll help now and again with an emergency,” Allen said.
Banyin let out a loud cry. The crowd that had been waiting to see if the baby would be born there caught their breaths at the sound.
“Where’s the ambulance, Tagger?” Stella asked him on the radio.
Petey answered. “Sorry, Chief. There was another accident. They had to stop on the way. The inju
ries were more serious. I don’t know when someone will be there.”
The Cherokee squealed on the turn coming to the scene. JC yelled at the people in the crowd. “Get out of the way—doctor coming through.”
Chief Rogers had helped Clyde Hampton and Nancy Bradford try to clear a path for the vehicle, but it was taking too long.
JC almost lifted Doc Schultz out of the vehicle. “She’s over there.”
“Of course she is,” the doctor remarked. “Otherwise everyone would be turned in the opposite direction, wouldn’t they? I’m old, not stupid. Get out of my way.”
Doc Schultz was in his eighties, his wispy white hair standing on end. He was medium height with a round body and spindly legs.
“Doc!” Chief Rogers greeted him. “Glad you could come out.”
“What a night for this baby to be born,” Doc Schultz complained. “Why is it that this always happens when the weather’s bad? I’ve probably delivered five hundred babies—all during awful weather.”
The old doctor was known for his constant complaining. He’d been the only doctor in Sweet Pepper for the last fifty years. The closest clinic was in Sevierville. The town had tried to recruit a doctor since Doc Schultz had announced his retirement, but no one was interested in working there.
“Get out of my way.” Doc Schultz pushed through the members of the fire brigade standing beside the car that were holding up the blanket that Kimmie had put in their hands. “What’s all that for?”
“We’re trying to give Banyin some privacy,” Allen told him.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Having a baby is the most natural thing in the world. I can’t get in here with you all standing around. Go fight a fire or something.”
Kimmie directed the volunteers. “Move back a few feet.”
Doc Schultz looked disgusted as he got near Banyin. “You can worry about people seeing a woman give birth but not about an old doctor’s knees on this cold, wet pavement? I’m not into replacement surgery. Find me something to put on the ground.”
Royce scrambled to do the doctor’s bidding and returned with another blanket.
“That’ll have to do,” Doc Schultz said.
Banyin screamed again. “Get this thing out of me!”
“Calm down, young woman,” Doc Schultz said. “You’ve got a ways to go. Just lay back and rest. I’ll let you know when it’s time to push.”
Stella got out of the way. A tow truck was on the street waiting to take the car. John instructed him to cut his engine and be patient as he also kept pushing the interested crowd back on the street.
Chief Rogers joined Stella away from the group. “Nice work, Chief Griffin. Very creative. You know if you’d accidentally touched one of those hot wires, or let one of them fall on the car, we’d have a much different scenario right now.”
“Blowhard,” Eric dismissed him.
“There wasn’t another way,” Stella said. “Willy said Elvis was not only too drunk to drive, he was too drunk to handle these wires. Let’s hope the power company gets here soon.”
“We were interrupted at the dance.” He stared at her. “Did I understand you right? Did you say you have a detonator from Barney’s house?”
“That’s what I said. I wasn’t sure if I should give it to you or to Agent Whitman.”
“Maybe you should give it to Whitman since he’s down here,” Chief Rogers drawled. “But I’d rather see this case through myself, if you don’t mind.”
Stella wouldn’t have told him about the device if she hadn’t been willing to give it to him. “I have it back at the cabin. I’ll bring it to town hall tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” He nodded. “I can’t figure why anyone would want to kill Barney. I sure don’t understand what’s up with the cocaine. I’ll never believe he was involved in that.”
“I didn’t know him as well as you,” Stella said. “Maybe he needed the money. It can get expensive living an extravagant lifestyle with your son running for state representative.”
“I guess that’s true. My gut tells me that there’s more to it.”
“What about Falk Jr.’s driver? Did the police get anything out of him?”
“No. Junior bailed him out. Maybe he and Chip are both working to protect their drug trade.”
Banyin yelled again from the interior of the car. People from the surrounding houses on Pepper Lane began to bring out urns of hot chocolate and coffee for the crowd.
“Looks like we kept the party going, just moved it out of the gym.” Chief Rogers grinned. “I gotta get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Stella agreed.
“And thanks, Chief Griffin.” Don Rogers touched the brim of his costume hat. “I’m beginning to think there might be a way we can work together after all.”
Smiling, Stella repeated her orders for the pumper-tanker to go back to the firehouse. There was another loud scream from Banyin that made everyone pause. In the silence, they all heard her baby’s first cry. A loud cheer went up from everyone on the street.
“It’s a girl!” Doc Schultz shouted. “Now someone take me home.”
Chapter 28
The ambulance arrived at the same time as the power crew. People began going home after the excitement. Banyin and Jake rode to the hospital in Sevierville to have both mother and daughter checked out.
Stella and Eric were some of the last participants to leave.
“It’s too bad no one will ever know the truth about moving those electric lines.” Stella watched the power crew cleaning up the mess. The pole would need to be replaced from the impact of the Chevy.
“It’s for the best,” Eric said. “Like you told me, no one needs to know what’s waiting for them when they die.”
“You’re still a hero.” She smiled at him as she drove away from Pepper Lane. “I didn’t realize I’d have such big shoes to fill when I came here.”
He laughed. “Yeah. It’s a life and afterlife commitment, I guess.”
Stella stopped at the firehouse to let Tagger and Petey know what happened. The pumper and the engine crews were still there cleaning the equipment and packing away their gear.
She changed clothes. It had been difficult and uncomfortable to stuff the large dress under her turnout gear. She packaged the dress and bonnet in a shopping bag and traded it for jeans and a sweater that she kept in her locker.
They sat around the big table in the kitchen talking about Banyin’s baby and Petey coming back to work.
“That was amazing the way you moved those live wires, Chief,” Petey gushed. “I want you to show me how to do that.”
Tagger snickered. “I got a feeling I know how she did it.” He winked at Eric.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Stella said. “We had to get into the car. All of you need to be trained with the hot stick. How’d you find out about it?”
Petey took out her cell phone. “Are you kidding? Royce texted me a picture as you were doing it. Probably half the state knows about it by now. You might go viral, Chief.”
Stella laughed. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. Everyone should put a caption on the picture—‘Don’t try this at home.’”
Talk turned to the crowning of the new Sweet Pepper Festival queen and her court. Foster Waxman had dominated for another year. Everyone wondered who would take the crown next year when Foster went to college.
After half an hour or so, Stella yawned and decided to go back to the cabin.
“Goodnight, Chief,” Tagger said. “I hope the rest of the night isn’t so exciting.”
“Me too,” she agreed. “Good job everyone. Let’s remember to get something to the hospital for Banyin tomorrow.”
In the Cherokee, going back up the mountain, Eric said, “We make a good team. I do the work, you get the glory. I like it.”
“I don’t know if that’s a fair assessment, but we do make a good team.”
Stella parked the Cherokee next to the cabin. She started to get out and then noticed Eric star
ing at the cabin, not moving. “What is it?”
“You know, I lost some memories from when I died. They kind of come and go. I think I just remembered something from my will that might help save the cabin.”
“What is it? Do you have a copy of the will?”
“I think so. Probably upstairs with the rest of my stuff. I can’t recall exactly, but there’s something about the cabin and the firehouse.”
Stella went inside with Eric. She took off her coat and started upstairs.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To help you look for your will.”
“I can look without you. You must be exhausted. Get some rest.”
“I’ve been up here before, you know.” She kept going up the two flights of stairs that led to the loft. “I’ve seen your stuff.”
“You’ve only seen what I let you see.”
Stella turned on the light in the room upstairs. It was cluttered with pieces of furniture, books, and other items that had once belonged to Eric. There was a double bed she’d made use of for company, a chest of drawers, a rocking chair like the ones on the back deck, and a hand-carved cradle.
“Why the cradle?” She made it rock with a gentle hand.
“Hoping to have a family someday, I suppose. I never meant to live alone all my life. I just thought the right woman would come along.” He smiled at her. “I guess I thought it would be before I died.”
Stella didn’t know what to say to that so she busied herself going through papers that were on the table beside the bed. “If we both look we can probably find it faster.”
“I have some personal items I might not want to share.” Eric stood slightly above the hardwood floor. “I think you should go back downstairs.”
“That’s not going to happen, especially now that I know there are other things up here that you’re hiding. Why do you think the town didn’t throw all of your stuff away after you died?”
“There was talk of a museum.”
“Dedicated to you?” She grinned. “That would be interesting. The stories I could tell.”
“Okay. You can stay. Just don’t touch anything.”
Stella sat on the bed while Eric rummaged around in a few crates and metal file cabinets. She knew he’d made the bed, the chest, and the cradle, as well as the rest of the furniture downstairs. He’d been a wonderful craftsman and a well-loved fire chief. That’s why the people who’d known him hadn’t gotten rid of the things that were important to him. As time had passed, people had probably forgotten what was up here. Then they were afraid of his ghost.