by J. J. Cook
Stella did something she normally didn’t do—she hugged him. “I’ll miss you. Let me know if you need anything.”
Ricky looked as embarrassed as Stella usually did when someone from the fire brigade hugged her. Maybe it was rubbing off on her.
“I won’t keep you anymore. You better get these peppers up to the festival for judging. Don’t make Theodora or Elvita come and get them. It can get ugly, Chief. I’ll see you around.”
Stella watched him leave, feeling Eric looking over her shoulder. “I knew this was going to happen. I don’t have any idea who can drive the engine now. I’ve got Kent on the pumper. I need someone with big truck experience on the engine too.”
“You’ll find someone,” he said. “In the meantime, the kid was right. You better get these to the festival. Go and win us a blue ribbon. And good luck with the tour guide thing too.”
Stella put on her black pants and white shirt, topping it with her red vest. At the last minute, the festival committee had added a red Sweet Pepper ball cap as part of the costume. She put her thick red hair up in a ponytail and let it hang out of the back.
“How do I look?” she asked with a big smile on her face.
He looked at her quickly and then looked away. “You look great. Just don’t let anyone take pictures.”
“Thanks for the encouragement.”
Eric watched Stella pack the peppers into the Cherokee. He’d told her she could park closer to the cabin and he could have helped her with the trays. She’d declined—it was bad enough to have things moved inside by an invisible hand. She didn’t want to see her picture in the paper with boxes of peppers moving outside.
Chapter 31
The Sweet Pepper Festival was crowded, as it was every year. Hundreds of vendors hawked their wares to thousands of tourists under deep blue Tennessee skies. There were caramel apples, knitted hats, and hand-turned wooden bowls. Anything and everything someone might like to buy.
Downtown Sweet Pepper was wall-to-wall people wandering up and down the streets, filling the shops and restaurants, spending plenty of money. It was no wonder Mayor Wando stood in the middle of blocked-off Main Street in his traditional top hat and tails welcoming people to town.
Everywhere Stella looked there were peppers. There were pepper flags flying from every house, every shop. Farmers sold the gold, green, and red fresh peppers along the streets in special stalls. Little kids wore pepper costumes and adults wore pepper-shaped hats. The sun gleamed on the freshly painted pepper water tower over it all.
Stella took her post at Main and Center streets, about a block from the main festival areas. It wasn’t long before she was answering questions about everything she’d learned about peppers. It was surprising how many people wanted to hear her talk about growing and distributing peppers.
She was ready for them.
It took ninety days to grow a Tennessee Teardrop pepper, Sweet Pepper’s specialty. They were one hundred thousand to two hundred thousand degrees on the Scoville heat index, which had been created to let people know what they were about to put into their mouths. Sweet Pepper grew five thousand bushels of peppers in a good year.
The peppers were bottled in the factory on the hillside (here she was supposed to point and suggest tours of the packing facility). The company was started in 1840 by Charles Carson. The peppers were shipped from there across the U.S. and to twenty-six countries around the world.
By noon, she was exhausted and her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Relief came when Lucinda Waxman’s granddaughter, Foster, came with her bag lunch and a big glass of sweet iced tea. Stella thanked her and then gulped half of the sweet tea in one swallow. Normally she wasn’t a fan of sweet tea. It was too sweet for her taste. It was delicious after a morning of answering pepper questions.
She sat on the old-fashioned bench near the antique streetlight at the corner and ate quickly while there was a lull in foot traffic.
She’d barely finished when a call came in on her cell phone and her emergency radio. She knew Tagger was handling calls that day. He was the only one who didn’t care if he went to the festival.
Stella ran to the Cherokee, glad the peppers were gone from her front seat. For a moment she panicked, wondering who was going to drive the engine.
She hadn’t had time to contact anyone about taking Ricky’s place. She’d never driven anything bigger than her motorcycle before she came to Sweet Pepper. She was still getting used to the size of the Cherokee.
As she raced back to the firehouse, she mentally went over all of her volunteers’ applications that had been submitted before they had started with the fire brigade.
It had been easy to tag Kent for the pumper/tanker since he’d had experience driving a big rig. Her thoughts took her to JC’s application—he’d driven a cement truck for several years before going to work for the pepper plant.
Lucky for her, JC was already in his gear by the time she got there. Most of the volunteers were either arriving or changing their clothes. Tagger had already opened the big bay doors.
“The fire is at the old meatpacking factory near Frog Pond,” Tagger told her as she walked inside the firehouse. “Our records don’t show a company being in there, Chief. It must be something new.”
She nodded as she took off her shoes and vest while she was walking toward the locker area. “So we don’t know what we’re going into?”
“Sorry,” Tagger said. “I’m still calling around, trying to get some info about it.”
“Let me know right away if you figure it out.”
Stella saw JC and pulled him to the side of the locker area. “Ricky quit this morning. Do you think you can drive the engine?”
He didn’t hesitate. His broad, dark face was intent. “Sure. Is that where you want me?”
“Yes. Thanks. I’ll meet you there. Tagger has the keys. Go ahead and start it up.”
JC seemed surprised but didn’t ask any questions until the group was ready to go and the engine was leading the way with him, Hero, and Stella in the cab.
“Ricky quit because of his dad, didn’t he?”
“Yes. He may come back. I don’t know right now. Are you okay with driving?”
“Sure.” He grinned, showing even white teeth. “I only gave up driving the cement truck because the company I worked for went out of business. There aren’t a lot of jobs around here that don’t involve peppers, you know what I mean?”
Stella liked JC. He handled himself well at calls and during practice. He was always willing to lend an extra hand. He also managed to drive the engine smoothly, and at a good speed.
The old meatpacking factory was a shabby two-story brick building that sat on the side of the highway, about ten minutes from the firehouse. There were no cars in the overgrown parking lot. Stella assumed no one was working there, or the building was being used for storage. It didn’t look as though anyone had been there for a long time.
“Any information on what’s inside?” she asked Tagger on the radio.
“Nothing, Chief. Maybe it was kids in the empty building. I don’t know yet. I have a call in to the county.”
“Thanks. We’re here now. Let me know if you get any information.”
Stella got out of the engine with Hero at her heels. She had Petey use the heat sensor to pinpoint the location where the fire was burning.
The few windows in the building had been boarded up. There was no way to see inside. There was plenty of smoke coming out of it, but no sign of fire outside.
“Looks smack in the center of the building,” Petey said. “I guess we assume no one’s inside?”
“For now.” Stella told everyone to be careful. “I think this place is empty, but let’s not take any chances.”
“What’s the cargo?” Royce wiped sweat from his face.
“We don’t know that either. We’l
l have to use the aerial ladder on the engine to get the water inside,” she said. “We’ll have to vent the roof, no matter what.”
“I’ll go up, Chief,” Petey said. “Where’s Ricky?”
“He had to quit,” Stella said tersely. “Let’s get moving.”
There were odd noises coming from the building. It sounded like crispy cereal in milk. There were snap, crackle, and pop noises as they stood outside getting their gear together.
JC was raising the ladder above the roof. Petey was ready to climb. No one had argued with her about going up there.
They were hooking the hoses up to an old water hydrant that the county had probably put in for the meatpacking facility, when John arrived in his police car.
“Sorry I’m late, Chief.” He was still putting on his bunker coat. “Festival traffic. What have we got?”
Stella explained the situation to him. “Let’s move.”
“Where’s Ricky?” John looked around at the shorthanded group.
“He quit this morning.”
Royce and Kent had to use the axes to get through the loading doors as Petey went up the ladder. At that moment, the materials stored in the old plant became clear—a dozen large fireworks burst out, showering the crew with multicolor sparks. Hundreds of them stored inside started going off, loud booms accompanying each set catching fire.
Kimmie and David shouted happily and pointed at the display like children. Sylvia and Hero growled at the light show and crouched down on the concrete, where they were waiting to see if they were needed.
Stella barked out a warning about the fireworks. “Keep your heads low in there!”
Bert Wando pushed Kimmie aside as a heavy burst of red sparks almost hit her. Allen Wise yelled at everyone to be careful.
Stella reinforced the warning on the radios. “This might look pretty, but it’s dangerous. Stay on your toes.”
Petey reported her movements on the radio. “I’m going to crack the roof open and you can have someone start the water up here.”
“Watch yourself,” Stella warned. “We have exploding fireworks coming out of the building.”
“Really? Cool.” Petey laughed. “Don’t worry, Chief. I’ll be careful.”
Stella shook her head. Firefighters needed to take exploding fireworks seriously. She’d seen some places go up in Chicago that way. It was no joke.
She had John and JC standing by with a two-inch hose as soon as Petey gave the signal. Kimmie was still giggling as the fireworks began to shoot into the sky. A crowd of cars had already begun gathering in the parking lot and along the side of the road. People were sitting in the backs of their pickups and on car hoods to watch the show.
“Tagger.” Stella called him on the radio. “Get me some police backup out here. We have civilians who think this is a free fireworks show.”
“Will do, Chief.”
Before Petey could get to the roof, a larger group of fireworks, probably the bigger, aerial bombs began going off. A portion of the roof blew off, sending heavy showers of sparks up into the sky—and knocking Petey from the ladder.
Stella saw her fall and reacted quickly by heading toward the ladder as she called for an ambulance and medical team. To her surprise, Kimmie was one step in front of her, already working her way up the ladder to the roof.
“Are you going to let her go?” John yelled above the noise of the exploding fireworks.
“We all have to face our fears sometime,” she told him. “Kimmie has to know she can do this.”
“Yeah, but Stella—”
“Not up for discussion.”
Stella kept her gaze on Kimmie’s rapidly moving form. She was poised at the bottom of the ladder to assist her if the other woman needed it. She radioed Kent and Royce to make sure they were all right inside the building.
“Not really much of a fire, Chief,” Kent said. “These fireworks are kind of lighting themselves off right now. We’re hitting them with as much water as we can. It’s like dominoes in here.”
“Keep going,” Stella said. “Be careful.”
She could make out Kimmie’s movements as she reached the roof and approached Petey’s inert form. Without hesitation, Kimmie got Petey up across her shoulders and started back toward the ladder.
Stella raced up to the roof to help Kimmie with her burden.
“I can take her, Chief,” Kimmie said breathlessly. “Let me do this, please.”
Stella stepped off on the rapidly deteriorating roof. Kimmie went down the ladder with Petey across her shoulders until she met JC at the bottom.
“Okay,” Stella said to John. “Let’s get that water up here while there’s still a roof.”
John, JC, and David manned the bigger, three-inch hose on the platform, setting it up so that it would spray onto the roof where Stella directed. Large portions of the roof had been destroyed from the inside as still more aerial bombs went off.
The group finally had to take another hose up the ladder for a more direct effort. Stella and Kimmie held the two-inch hose in place until the booming fireworks stopped.
By that time, the ambulance was there for Petey. Sweet Pepper police, along with county police, were directing traffic and asking civilians to leave the parking lot. There were hundreds of cars and trucks.
Even the Smittys came out from the Sweet Pepper Gazette to take pictures, unheard of during a festival.
Stella walked through the smoky, old building with John as they all worked to make sure there were no more hot spots. It was hard to say where the fire started without a more thorough investigation.
“Looks like we got it all,” she said. “I want to know who agreed to let someone store fireworks here without a permit.”
“Top priority for tomorrow,” he promised. “These old places outside the town are hard to keep up with.”
“Tell Petey that,” Stella muttered. “She could’ve been killed up there.”
“You were right about Kimmie,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t have believed it.”
“Sometimes you have to have a little faith.”
Chapter 32
Petey was injured but she’d recover. Stella had waited, with all the fire brigade members, at the hospital with Petey’s parents until the doctors were sure about her.
“She’s got a broken arm, some cracked ribs, and a fractured collarbone,” the emergency room physician told them. “She’ll be here a day or so and then we’ll have her home. She probably won’t be up to many fires for a while, Chief Griffin. But she’ll mend.”
Stella thanked him and gave everyone else the good news. “She’s kind of banged up but she’ll be okay. I’d say we have Kimmie to thank for that.”
“That’s right,” Royce shouted.
He and JC lifted Kimmie up on their shoulders while she laughed and cried at the same time.
“First drink at Beau’s is on me,” Stella said. “Let’s get back to the firehouse and get everything cleaned up. You guys did a great job out there. I’m proud of all of you.”
“Me too,” John said. “I think we need a few more warm bodies, Chief. We never replaced Marty. Now Banyin and Ricky are gone, and Petey will be out for a while. I’d say we need to recruit.”
Stella agreed. “Agreed. But not tonight. I’ll see everyone back at the firehouse.”
The group took the pumper and the engine back to the firehouse to be cleaned and readied for the next call. All the gear was cleaned and put away before the weary band of firefighters got into their individual vehicles and left the parking lot.
Stella’s phone rang before she could leave. It was Theodora.
“I’m so sorry you were called away from your tour guide duties, Stella. But don’t worry about a thing. We’ll look for you tomorrow.”
Stella thanked her, not quite sure what to say.
“I ha
ve the most marvelous news. Your recipe for stuffed candied peppers has won the blue ribbon in the most creative recipe in your division. Congratulations!”
“That’s great.” Stella thought about how excited Eric would be when he heard. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Well, needless to say, you’ve fit right into our hearts here in Sweet Pepper. And now you’ll always be in our tummies too.”
Stella knew everyone would be waiting for their free drink at Beau’s, but she had to take a few minutes and tell Eric the news before she joined them. She hopped on her Harley, gunned the engine, and was gone.
The sharp turns going up the road had become so familiar she didn’t even mind them in the twilight as she had when she’d first come here. The sun was fading behind the mountains, casting long shadows into the trees that surrounded the road.
She stopped dead as she reached the cabin, the Harley’s tires screeching under her.
Bob Floyd was standing next to his white SUV, the “For Sale” sign that had been up was in his hands. There was a large truck with a bulldozer coming off of it.
“What’s going on?” she demanded after parking the bike. She could see Eric standing at the window. “What are you doing up here?”
“I’m about to clear my property,” Bob said. “I’m willing to give you time to get your things out of the cabin and then it’s going to be rubble.”
The Sweet
Pepper Difference
Sweet Pepper, Tennessee, is famous for its peppers! We grow them by the bushel and then pick and pack them right here for the most flavorful pepper you’ve ever eaten! For more than 180 years, the hottest, sweetest peppers in the world! Come visit us in October for our Sweet Pepper Festival!
Know Your Peppers
Because knowing the strength and taste of the peppers you use with your foods can make or break your meal, it’s best to know your peppers!
The featured pepper is the cherry pepper. These peppers are also known as pimento peppers. These little cuties are heart-shaped, about four inches long and three inches wide. They are very mild, scoring about five hundred on the Scoville heat index, hardly a hot pepper at all. Cherry peppers are primarily used for the red part inside stuffed olives.