by J. J. Cook
Stella had totally forgotten that she needed a pepper recipe. “I’ll take care of that right away. Thanks for the reminder.”
Myra let her go. Stella saw Agent Whitman getting out of his car and went to talk to him.
“I suppose you’ve heard about Ricky Hutchins,” Stella said. “Chief Rogers is still enjoying his triumph. I can’t figure out yet what new evidence he has, but I’m sure he’ll let us know.”
Agent Whitman nodded. “I got the official phone call a few minutes ago. He said I didn’t have to bother coming to help him. He had to know that wasn’t going to happen.”
He looked at the Daily Grind Coffee Shop next door. “Let’s duck in here for a moment before we help the chief celebrate.”
He insisted on buying Stella a mocha latte and had Valery, the owner, make him a triple-shot latte. They sat together outside at a café table on the sidewalk.
“I received the same information Chief Rogers did late last night. A local pilot for the forest service gave him some information about Deputy Chum’s death. He was flying over the scene when he saw the deputy’s blue truck being pushed off the road by an older black pickup with a license plate beginning with ‘SR’”
Zane hadn’t told her he’d seen any part of a license plate. She was surprised, and wondered why he hadn’t mentioned it.
Agent Whitman sipped his coffee and studied the high profiles of the Smoky Mountains that surrounded the town. “It was very foggy so the pilot could only read that much of the plate. He didn’t actually witness the shooting. He didn’t report it until Chief Rogers’s people questioned him about it.”
Stella knew Ricky Junior frequently drove a battered black pickup, though she’d never noticed the plate. For Chief Rogers to arrest Ricky Senior, the truck must actually belong to him and have the right license plate. She had to admit that it was a strange coincidence.
“He also arrested him for Chief Gamlyn’s and Shu Carriker’s deaths,” she said. “Do you understand how those roll in with Chum’s death?”
“We’ve thought since we came in on this that Deputy Chum was involved in the other two deaths.”
Since he was being so forthcoming, Stella pressed on. “What made you think that?”
“It’s common practice for a criminal to want to unburden themselves to the people they feel they’ve wronged. Deputy Chum couldn’t do that with Chief Gamlyn, so he confessed to you. He also went by on his way out of town and apologized to the Carriker family.”
“So you think Chum and Ricky Senior killed Eric and Shu.”
He nodded. “And Ricky killed Chum before he could give it all away.”
Stella thought about it. She still wasn’t sure she believed it. She might not be as astute at hearing confessions of guilt as Chief Rogers and Agent Whitman, but some things didn’t make sense. She found it hard to swallow that Ricky had killed Eric.
“I’d like to talk to Ricky and hear the whole story. Do you plan to question him?”
“Of course.” He finished his coffee. “You’re welcome to join me. Your help has been invaluable solving three homicides. The state of Tennessee and the town of Sweet Pepper owe you a great debt.”
Agent Whitman said he would call her when they could interview Ricky. Stella looked at her watch. It was still early, too early to go to the dressmakers for her tour guide outfit. She probably had plenty of time to head back to the firehouse and get going on ladder practice.
On the way back out of town, she thought about Ricky Senior. She really liked him, but how well did she know him? If he’d killed Eric and Shu, that was a long time ago. He might have been a much different person back then—though Eric and Walt probably wouldn’t agree with that.
Looking at the facts—he was in the grain silo, maybe when Eric was killed. That was probably his radio in the back of the Impala. He’d lied to her about his involvement in Eric’s death.
These could be unfortunate coincidences—or he may have killed all three men.
Sean and Doug were already at the firehouse when she arrived. Barbara had dropped them off and gone to town to have coffee with Ben. The rest of the group was straggling in.
She knew the constant training could be hard and didn’t say anything about late arrivals. Showing up on time was more important when they had a call.
“Ladder practice?” Sean asked with a smile when he saw his daughter.
“Yep. I try to do it as often as I can. We’re not great on the ladders, probably because we don’t use them much during calls. I figure we should be prepared.”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “I’ve seen at least one two-story building while I’ve been here.”
“There may not be high-rises, but my people need to be prepared.”
“Don’t get all defensive.” Her father hugged her. “You’re right. Sweet Pepper may not be Chicago, but it’s best to be ready for anything.”
There was a second floor on the firehouse. It was only used for storage and made a good place to practice with the ladders.
Stella had thought if the fire brigade ever had to have full-time members, it would be a good place for them to sleep. That was a long way in the future, if ever.
Stella looked at her group as Bert Wando came up in his letter jacket and waved to her from the back. Hero and Sylvia sat on the sidelines with Tagger, watching the proceedings.
Last time they’d practiced with ladders, Hero had decided to get involved. He and Sylvia had run up and down the rungs barking. It made for a funny, but not very effective, practice.
“I know none of you like the ladders.” Stella was already getting started as John parked his car and joined them. “But we have to keep working with them. We don’t have a lot of tall structures in Sweet Pepper, except for trees. However, if there had been a fire at the three-story cabin at the lake, we would’ve needed this practice.”
Ricky Junior pulled up in his father’s old Chevy. She was surprised to see him there since he was trying to help his father. Stella went on, explaining why they all had to put on their gear to make the practice feel more like the real thing. She didn’t always require that much for practice sessions.
“We’re going to suppose someone is trapped upstairs and the structure is on fire. Each of you will have to climb the ladder and bring the victim down in a safe manner. We’ve practiced this before, so I expect a little speed. Any volunteers to be the victim?”
Tagger’s hand went up. “Me, Chief. Pick me. You know I like to be the victim.”
“Okay. Tagger it is.” Stella thanked him and he went inside. “Petey, you’re up first. Get in your gear and let’s go. Everyone else, suit up. Your turn is coming.”
Ricky held back as everyone went inside. “Just wanted to let you know I could be called away, Chief. Mom is talking to a lawyer in town. She may need me there if she gets to visit Dad.”
“I understand. Thanks for coming, anyway. How’s your mom holding up?”
“Okay I guess. It’s a lot to take in. They impounded my truck to look for blood or some such. I wish I knew why Chief Rogers thought Dad could do something like this. He loved Eric Gamlyn. Everyone knows that. And he didn’t hurt Deputy Chum either.”
Since Stella had her own doubts about Ricky Senior, she didn’t venture an opinion. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Ricky went inside to change as Walt Fenway’s old truck chugged into the parking lot. Stella grinned. It didn’t sound any better after it had been in the garage. He got out and she watched him come toward her in a determined way, even ignoring the excited pleas for attention from the dogs.
“Is somebody going up that ladder?” he asked.
“Everybody goes up the ladder,” she replied. “We call it ladder practice.”
“Glad I was a cop and not a fireman.” His tone was a little brisk.
“What brings you by?”
He snorted. “Ricky Senior is in jail. You got a minute?”
Stella looked at her father. Sean waved her on. “Go on. I’ve got this.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll only be a minute.”
Walt and Stella walked away from the practice area and where Tagger was sitting with the dogs.
“So you told Whitman and Rogers about Ricky’s radio in the back of the Impala? What were you thinking, Stella?”
Chapter 25
“You had to know they’d go after Ricky right away,” he continued. “Now we might never know the whole story. There’s some rational explanation for it. Ricky didn’t kill Eric. My old buddy would be turning over in his grave over this, if he had one.”
“I didn’t tell anyone. I went to talk to Ricky about the radio and Chief Rogers was taking him out of the café when I got there. You should know me better by now. I wouldn’t share with Don that way.”
Walt glanced away, still angry, but now without her to direct it at. “Well that beats all then. What made them pick him up?”
She told him about the partial plate and Zane’s account of the black pickup riding close to Chum’s blue one. “They’ve tied the whole thing together. Even Whitman believes Ricky did it. He’s going to let me go in when he interviews him. When I ask him about the radio in the Impala, it’s going to be icing on the cake for Whitman and Chief Rogers.”
“Ask him anyway,” Walt shot back. “He didn’t do it. Ricky can’t shoot well enough to hit a moving target. I know that much. I’ve been hunting with him. And there’s no way on this green earth he’d hurt Eric. They were like brothers.”
“I know. I know.” She ran her hand around her neck in frustration. “But he’s involved in this somehow. I don’t know how yet, and I can’t ask him without making him sound even guiltier. I don’t know what to do.”
Walt nodded. “I’m gonna look into this black truck thing and see what I can find out. Be careful if you see Ricky. Don’t make things worse than they already are.”
“I will.” She looked into his worried eyes. “You know the story of Cain and Abel, right? They were brothers too.”
“I’m telling you, Stella, Ricky didn’t do these things. And I’m sorry if I’m a little angry. It’s frustrating being out of the loop sometimes on things that matter. Not that I’d want to go back to that life.”
“I know. It’s okay. Ricky’s your friend.”
His voice was gruff when he said, “Just let me know what he says, will you? I wish I could see him.”
Walt stalked back to his truck and gunned the engine. Stella went back to ladder practice. She hadn’t missed anything. Petey was starting up the ladder to save Tagger from the imaginary fire.
Her father was timing Petey. “Just remember—fast is good—safety is better. You have to get up there and get back down in one piece.”
Petey nodded, but didn’t stop climbing.
Tagger kept yelling, “Help I’m burning,” as loud as he could.
Sean nodded at Petey as he and Stella watched her. “Has she done this before? She doesn’t look like she could get a child back down the ladder with her. I’m not sure if she can bring Tagger down by herself.”
Stella smiled. “Looks can be deceptive. Just watch her.”
Petey reached the second-floor window and dove inside, headfirst. She got Tagger (who was supposed to be unconscious, but kept crying out for help) across her narrow shoulders and came right back down the ladder with him.
Spontaneous applause broke out from the rest of the group. Tagger took a bow before he went back upstairs to be rescued again.
“Guess you were right.” Sean looked at the stopwatch. “Not bad time either. I wouldn’t have believed it.”
The rest of the fire brigade took their turns going up the ladder. Everyone did a good job, except for Kimmie, who had a hard time getting Tagger across her shoulders, and finally had to give up.
At that point, the dogs ran up the ladder with their leashes dragging behind them.
Banyin shrugged. “Sorry, Chief. I wasn’t prepared for them to dart off like that.”
“That’s okay,” Stella said with a laugh. “We were done anyway. Everyone can change and we’ll meet inside to talk about it.”
Banyin didn’t go up the ladder, for obvious reasons. Her husband had actually come to the firehouse to make sure that his pregnant wife didn’t try it. He never got out of his car, though he waved and left when practice was over.
Petey had been the fastest, no surprise there. Ricky was only a few seconds behind her. Stella told everyone else they were going to have to schedule more ladder practice to get those times down.
She told Kimmie she needed to lift weights to add some muscle. “Tagger is about one hundred and fifty pounds. You could have to lift more weight than that. You’re going to have to work up to it.”
Kimmie sniffed and wiped her eyes. “We can’t all be Petey, Chief.” Her husband, David, put his arm around her shoulders. “I might not be able to bring someone down a ladder, but I can hold the hose.”
“But what if Petey isn’t there the day we need you to climb a ladder and bring a pregnant woman back down with you? It’s important that all of you keep growing and maintaining your skills. You can do this, Kimmie. I know you can.”
Kimmie nodded, too emotional to speak. Hero and Sylvia licked her legs.
“That’s about it,” Stella said to the group. “If any of you know of someone else who could take Marty’s place on the fire brigade, let me know. Thanks for coming out today.”
Stella noticed that she had a missed call from Molly Whitehouse and sighed. She was going to have to go and have that vest fitted to be a tour guide at the festival.
She told her father she could drop him and Doug in town on her way.
“I don’t understand why you don’t tell them you won’t be here for the festival,” Sean said.
“Because I’m not leaving yet.” She’d suddenly made up her mind. “I may be here in October. If not, I’ll find someone else, around my size, and show them how to do it. They need the help, Dad. What did you always tell me about community service?”
“I wasn’t talking about Sweet Pepper, honey.” Sean got in the Cherokee with her. “I want you to come back with us.”
“I’m not leaving until I know what happened to Chief Gamlyn.” She started the engine as Doug closed the door behind him, silent as father and daughter argued.
“You’re a little obsessed with this thing, don’t you think?” Sean said. “The guy has been dead for a long time. Let it go. It’s not gonna bring him back.”
Surprisingly, it was Doug who ended the debate. “I don’t know. It may be obsession, but no police officer rests until a crime against another officer is closed. It doesn’t matter how old it is, or if you knew that person. It’s supposed to work that way to keep us all safe.”
Sean gave Doug a disgusted look but didn’t say anything else on the subject. Stella smiled at Doug in the rearview mirror and then drove them into Sweet Pepper.
• • •
Stella parked in front of town hall and checked her phone. No word yet from Agent Whitman about the interview with Ricky.
Doug went on to the café, where they were meeting Barbara, giving them some time to talk.
Sean hugged Stella and apologized when they got out of the Cherokee. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I miss you and I want you home.”
“You probably only miss the Harley.” She grinned at him, making light of the serious moment.
“Probably,” he agreed, following her lead. “I’m thinking about taking it across the country again.”
“Talk to Mom about that yet?”
“I’m getting her a little sidecar.”
They both laughed at that idea. Barbara wouldn’t get near a motorcycle.
“Se
riously,” he said. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do or how to live your life. If you think this is the right place for you, I guess you should stay.”
He looked around Main Street and then back at his daughter. “Do you?”
Stella followed his gaze along the narrow street where colorful new banners for the Sweet Pepper Festival were being put up and shops bustled with tourists.
“I would’ve said no a year ago, Dad,” she said honestly. “This place kind of grows on you, I guess. I like being the fire chief. I feel like I’m creating something important here—not just working a job. I don’t know yet what I’m going to do. Some days I still feel like a stranger in a strange land.”
“I understand.” Sean frowned. “You know whatever you decide to do, your mother and I will support you.”
Barbara came out of the café with her father at that point. Both of them were laughing, their arms around each other.
Sean took in the picture they made, standing on the sidewalk together. “Who knows? Think the fire chief might have room for a new recruit?”
“I’m sure she would, but it doesn’t pay, you know. That’s what ‘volunteer’ means.”
“Not a problem. I’m married to the pepper heiress.”
They both laughed at that too. It seemed too weird to be true.
“She won’t stay,” Stella predicted. “At least not yet. Maybe when you retire.”
He kissed the side of her head. “Fair enough. I won’t say anything else about what you’re doing. It’s your decision. Just be happy.”
Stella watched him join her mother and Ben. Doug came out of the café with a biscuit and a coffee to go.
Could Sweet Pepper be my home?
There were a lot of reasons to stay. There were as many reasons to go back to Chicago. She wasn’t sure how to make the decision. She’d never expected to live anywhere except where she was born and raised.
Molly Whitehouse texted again about the fitting for her tour guide vest. Stella decided to walk the few blocks, mostly uphill, to her shop.