In Hot Water

by J. J. Cook

  Stella took off her boots and jacket. She went to warm her hands by the fire in the hearth. “Housemates don’t ask those kinds of questions. Only my parents get to ask those things.”

  “If you would’ve taken my badge with you I wouldn’t have to ask.” He looked up from the cake. “How was it? Did you have a good time?”

  Stella went through the whole tale with him too. She also added the odd note to the evening when Phil Roth had appeared.

  “I hope he gets over it.” She stuck her finger in the frosting. “I won’t feel comfortable with him again.”

  “Too bad.” Eric smoothed out the frosting where she’d poked it. “He’s mature. He has money and standing in the community. Not to mention that he gave money to the fire brigade.”

  “All things I look for in a man.”

  “Take me with you next time and I can tell you what’s going on with him.”

  “Using your ghostly powers?” She rolled her eyes as she got a plate from the cabinet. “Can I cut a piece?”

  “No. I’m not done with it.”

  “You’re not going to eat it. I might as well have some.”

  He slapped her hand when she came close to the cake with a knife. The static zing made her pull her hand back.

  “Ouch. What was that for?”

  “I didn’t just bake this for you to eat. I made it for you to take to the barbecue tomorrow.”

  “Willy is catering that, remember?”

  “I know. It doesn’t matter. Other people will bring desserts because he won’t have any. It’s the way we do things around here. No one has to know that you can only microwave food. They’ll be impressed.”

  Stella got out some crackers. “You threw me off, buying all that food that I won’t make. Now I don’t have anything to eat.”

  “You’re not eating the cake tonight. Go to bed. You have to get up early for practice. I’m sure your sandwich and pudding cup was enough for one night. If you’re still hungry you can eat some cheese. I’m sorry you didn’t get to put your sexy pants and sweater to good use. Sometimes things don’t work out the way we plan.”

  Stella ate her crackers and opened a Coke. “You’re right. I need to go to bed. You’re crazy, even for a ghost.”

  “Like you’ve known so many.”

  She started toward the bedroom with her snack but turned back to him when she reached the doorway. “So you think I’m hot in these pants, huh?”

  He looked up and grinned. “I think you look hot in everything. But then you’re a fire chief so I’m prejudiced.”

  “Goodnight.” She laughed as she closed the bedroom door.

  “You wouldn’t have to ask if I wasn’t dead,” Eric muttered. “I think I need more frosting.”

  *

  Saturday dawned cold and clear. Even the fog couldn’t hide the startling blue sky that was a backdrop for the dark mountains that surrounded Sweet Pepper.

  Stella was up at five a.m. She showered quickly, before the hot water tank ran out, and wore layers of clothing since the afternoon was supposed to be warm. She brushed her hair and tugged on her boots. All the while there was this amazing aroma coming from the kitchen.

  She walked out of the bedroom and stroked Hero’s spotted coat. He was still asleep on the rug in front of the hearth.

  “What are you making now?” She sniffed the fragrant air.

  “I was thinking last night that I could make some egg biscuits. You could freeze them and take one out each morning to put in the microwave. It would be better for you than a Pop-Tart, and yet you wouldn’t have the feeling that you had to cook anything.”

  “You know I have a soft spot for biscuits.” She groaned as she sat down at the table in front of a flaky, hot biscuit stuffed with egg. “But all I’ll be is one giant soft spot if I eat them every day.”

  “At least they have some protein.”

  Stella sniffed the biscuit and then nibbled on it. “Okay. You convinced me.”

  “It was harder to convince Hero to eat his new dog food than it was to convince you to eat that biscuit.” He laughed. “Speaking of Hero, let’s go out, boy.”

  Hero wagged his tail. Eric opened the door and the dog bounded outside barking at squirrels and birds before his paws hit the frosty ground.

  Stella had to acknowledge that the warm biscuit was really good. Eric had made it smaller than the ones at the café. Maybe that would be the equivalent of two Pop-Tarts.

  There was always a lot more food in Sweet Pepper than she normally had in Chicago. She’d never kept food at her apartment. There were some large spreads sometimes at the firehouse. They were never as attractive as what she faced here every day.

  Stella picked up Eric’s badge when she was done eating and put it into the pocket of her jacket. She knew he’d want to be at the barbecue.

  She looked at the cake he’d carefully put into a plastic carrier. He’d managed to create a decent likeness of the Sweet Pepper Fire Brigade logo on top.

  Rose, or some other woman, had missed out on marrying Eric. It seemed as though he would have worked hard to make a relationship successful.

  “Are you ready to go?” He was standing half in and half out of the closed kitchen door.

  “I think so. Thanks for making the cake. No one is ever going to believe I made it.”

  “What choice do they have? Besides Tagger and Walt, I don’t think anyone suspects that you have a ghost that cooks for you.”

  Stella started to agree with him when the phone rang. She debated about answering it. She got more sales calls on her landline than she did on her cell phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Stella? It’s Gail. I didn’t know who else to turn to. I think someone is following me.”

  Chapter 32

  “Where are you now?” Stella asked her. “I can meet you. Have you called the police?”

  “I called last night when I saw this SUV parked outside my house. It left before the police came. They said it was nothing. I know something is going on. The fire marshal talked to me yesterday about the Falk investigation. I didn’t tell him anything. He was upset that we didn’t find much. I thought I did the right thing. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “I’ll meet you, Gail. Tell me where.”

  “I’m on my way out to Sweet Pepper. I’ll be fine. I guess I only needed someone to talk to.”

  Stella told her that they’d be at the firehouse practicing their drills. “Stop there. Let’s talk.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Thanks.”

  “Gail Hubbard?” Eric guessed.

  “Yeah. She sounded scared. I think she was crying. She’s on her way out here. Let’s get down to the firehouse.”

  Hero jumped into the Cherokee with them. He sat in the backseat with his head held proudly surveying the woods and letting out small growls when he saw a deer or a squirrel run by.

  All the fire brigade members were eagerly waiting for them when they arrived. There was a lot of talking and good-natured joking about the mock drills they’d be doing that afternoon.

  During that initial group get-together at their lockers putting on their turnout gear Tagger slipped up next to Stella and whispered a friendly hello to Eric. Eric waved back to him, and Tagger laughed out loud.

  “What are you laughing about?” Royce asked him after he was suited up and ready to go. “Are you coming along today?”

  “Yep. Petey said she couldn’t participate so she’d stay here on communications.”

  “You’re not participating either are you?” Royce looked uncomfortable with the idea.

  “The chief said I could be in the car for you all to rescue.” Tagger grinned happily. “I’m glad it’s an accident and not a fire.”

  Royce and JC laughed and fist-bumped each other. They grabbed their pry axes and went outside.

  “Are we taking the trucks with us to the barbecue?” Kent asked Stella.

  “You better believe it. Rufus gave me a good idea about ge
tting donations too. We’ll leave a box on each vehicle so people can drop money into them as they take a look at the trucks.”

  Allen shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of asking for charity. We get money from the town and the state. Why do we need other donations?”

  “Because the money we get from the state is barely enough to pay for two runs a month,” Stella said. “That leaves the town funding most of our needs. We could do with all the help we can get. Don’t forget, the better equipped we are the better the chances that we can be ready for an emergency.”

  “Like getting this beauty.” Bert pulled out the Sawzall. “This, and that new Jaws of Life, are gonna make a big difference when we have to rescue people from wrecked cars.”

  “Hey! That’s not fair,” Petey protested. “I was supposed to get to use that first.”

  Bert laughed. “Next time don’t fall off the ladder.”

  Petey made a growling sound and went back to the communications room.

  “It’s not nice to remind people that they’ve been injured.” John came out of the locker area in his bunker coat and pants. “Otherwise we’d all be talking about how you managed to break your ankle before we went out on our first run.”

  That brought a lot of laughter and anecdotes about their first run when they’d put out a fire in a henhouse. Bert took the ribbing and promised he’d apologize to Petey—but he didn’t put down the saw.

  When everyone was assembled in the parking lot Stella started them on drills. Not all of them were going to show off their skills. There wasn’t enough time and they really needed the best volunteers on the ladders. A mistake would be costly to their fund-raising efforts.

  Rufus pulled up with the fireboat behind him on the trailer. He’d managed during the night to paint Sweet Pepper Teardrop on the side, nothing really artistic but it was there. He’d also added a hose mount—no hose yet, but people would get the idea.

  “Are you starting without me?” He climbed out of his pickup.

  “Only two of us are going up the ladder with hoses,” JC told him. “You might as well take your boat and go on to the barbecue.”

  “Don’t dismiss me because I’m new,” Rufus said. “I can beat you and Royce up the ladder with two hoses.”

  He flexed his arms and laughed at them.

  “I think a small wager might be in order,” John added. “Because I’m gonna be one of the two going up the ladder.”

  Everyone, except Kimmie, who didn’t approve of gambling, tossed some money into four boots, one for each man. Stella agreed to the friendly wager. She decided that the two with the fastest times would be the ones to go up the ladder at the barbecue.

  “My money would be on Royce and JC,” Eric said.

  Stella put a couple of dollars into each of their boots. “There you go.”

  “Who are your favorites?” he asked her.

  “I’m neutral. I think any of the four of them would make me proud.”

  “What do you say, Chief?” Bert asked. “Can I be in on this?”

  She nodded to the saw in his hand. “You can’t do everything, at least not at the barbecue. You’ve got the saw. You cut the car.”

  He agreed. Allen and Kent put up the ladder to the second-floor window. Tagger went upstairs to make sure each man went all the way.

  Walt pulled in the parking lot as they were getting started. “Max Morrison already hauled that old car over to Beau’s. It’s a wreck. I hope you can get people out of it once they’re in it.”

  Stella had started the first man up the ladder. It was Royce. He was medium height with a wiry-strong build. Even with the sixty-pound hose he was up the ladder and back down again in record time. The group applauded for him when Stella called out his time.

  Rufus was next. He picked up the hose and got ready to climb as Stella called out for him to start. Rufus was six-foot-two and heavily muscled from his long hours building boats. He should’ve been sure-footed too, but he lost his balance going up the ladder and fell back to the ground.

  The group rushed toward him to make sure he wasn’t hurt. He was fine—unless you counted his pride. He waved as he put down the hose for the next volunteer.

  “It’s fair this way,” he said to Stella. “After all I get the boat.”

  She laughed and called for the next contestant. John got the hose and started up the ladder when she gave the word. John was about six-foot with a light, muscular frame. He had no trouble running up and down the ladder with the hose. His time was two seconds slower than Royce’s.

  “Okay,” Stella called out. “Last but not least, JC. Get ready.”

  JC was built like his friend, Royce. He was thin but sturdy and fast-moving. He’d been one of the first recruits to figure out how to handle a high-pressure hose.

  He ran quickly up the ladder and got to the top even faster than Royce or John. He looked back at his friends, grinned, and dropped the hose.

  There was a loud groaning sound that came from everyone on the ground.

  “I guess John and Royce will be climbing the ladder at the barbecue,” Stella decided. “Share the winnings if your man won.”

  “At least I got one right,” Eric said. “They’re all good men.”

  Walt was watching Stella. “Is Eric here now? What did he say?”

  “He thought Royce and JC would win.”

  “I thought John would be one of them.” Walt laughed and slapped his thigh. “I’m glad I never had to do something like that to be a police officer. I couldn’t run up a ladder like that without a hose.”

  Eric agreed with him and laughed at the idea.

  While the volunteers were making sure both the engine/ladder truck and the pumper were shiny clean, Stella glanced at her watch. It had already been forty-five minutes since she’d talked to Gail at the cabin.

  She confided in Walt about Gail’s phone call.

  “Oh?” He raised his thick, gray brows. “I guess you trust me now.”

  “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you before. You know how these things get out of hand.”

  Walt sniffed. “That’s okay. I suppose I forgive you. Which way was Mrs. Hubbard coming from?”

  “What’s going on?” John joined them as though he could sense what they were discussing.

  “I’m about to go look for Stella’s friend from the arson investigator’s office,” Walt said. “Want to ride along and make it official?”

  “Sure. I’m not on duty. I don’t have my vehicle. And we’ll probably be out of my jurisdiction.” John grinned. “I’m ready.”

  Walt slapped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Stella. We’ll find her for you.”

  “Let me know what happens. Thanks.”

  After making sure everything was ready for the barbecue, Rufus left with the fireboat. The rest of the team went into the firehouse for coffee.

  This was frequently a time the volunteers asked Stella questions about what it was like being a firefighter in Chicago. They were eager to hear stories of fires she’d fought and other aspects of training.

  She was happy to share. She’d grown up with family members talking about their exploits over Sunday dinner every week at her grandmother’s house. By the time she was ten she could recite the details of every major fire that had ever been fought in the area.

  “How are we going to decide who works on the fireboat?” Kent asked. “Are you going to choose a team and those people are the only ones to work the lake fires?”

  “I don’t like that idea. I want each of you to have experience with the fireboat. If we only have one group doing the job we risk not being prepared if something happens to one of those team members.”

  She went on to explain her plan. Everyone would have training on the fireboat. The team would work a rotating shift when it came to calls.

  “As soon as everyone has some time on the fireboat we’re going to tackle swift water rescue. We’ve got the Little Pigeon River almost running through town and other local waterways wher
e boaters could need help. There’s also a nice stipend from the state once we get that certification.”

  “More training?” Allen groaned. “I don’t want to say I’m too old, but I think I’m too old.”

  The rest of the team assured the fifty-something barber that he wasn’t too old to go out on calls and learn new skills.

  Banyin and her husband, Jake, stopped by with their baby on the way to Beau’s. Everyone was excited to see her and the new baby they’d rescued. Banyin handed her little girl to Stella.

  “We’re calling her Meagan Stella Watts.” Banyin smiled Tears came to her eyes. “Just a way of saying thanks, Chief.”

  “She really wanted to call her Fire Brigade Watts since that’s about all she can think about,” Jake told them. “Her mother talked her out of it.”

  Stella looked down into the baby’s wrinkled face. “Thank you, Banyin. I’m glad you and Meagan are fine.”

  “Never mind that,” Petey said. “Pass the baby.”

  While most of the volunteers were making cooing sounds at the newborn, Banyin and Jake approached Stella.

  “Jake has something he wants to say to you, Chief.” Banyin nudged her husband with her elbow. “Go ahead.”

  Jake hung his head a little. There were bright spots of color in his cheeks. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass about Banyin working here. I didn’t want her to get hurt.”

  “I understand. Everyone feels that way when their spouse, brother, or sister go on calls and could be injured.”

  “I was out of line about it.” Jake smiled at her. “I’m hoping you’ll give me another chance. Banyin says I have to join up so we can worry about each other—if that’s okay?”

  Stella shook his hand. “I’m always glad to have a new recruit.”

  “He can’t drive right now,” Banyin said with a nervous smile. “He lost his license because of the accident.”

  “Not a problem. Ricky is coming back to work. I’m already going to have to work out a schedule for him and JC to drive the engine. You know there’s plenty to do around here without driving.”