by Joyce Lavene
Stella glanced at her watch. “Speaking of that, I’m on my way to talk to the person who recommended Patrick to me.”
“Yeah. Who’s that?” John asked. “I could go with, if you like.”
Walt nearly choked on his last swallow of coffee. “You don’t want to know. And you don’t want to go with her.”
John frowned. “Ben Carson, right?”
“That’s right.” Stella got to her feet and put her Coke can in the recycling.
“Did he have something stolen after a small fire?” John wondered.
“Not as far as I know. But then, I didn’t either. Patrick might be completely innocent in all of this. That’s why I’m asking about him. Tomorrow we’ll get started at the Loflin house. I’m sure there will be some answers there.”
John stood with her. “I withdraw my offer to go with you. Sorry. You know how I feel about the old man.”
Her eyes were stormy. “I do. And I can’t help that I’m related to him. I guess you know that too. I’ll see you later.”
Stella walked out of the cabin with John right behind her.
Walt shook his head as he put his coffee cup in the sink. “That boy is as thick as pea soup, Eric. He could be with her if he wasn’t so stubborn about living in the past. It’s a shame. I’ll go now too, buddy. Talk to you later.”
Eric had his own ideas about that. He closed the door to the cabin when everyone was gone.
“Stella—” John stopped her before she could get on the Harley.
“What?” She put on her helmet and angrily faced him.
“You know it’s nothing personal.”
“Thanks for telling me. I feel so much better.”
“Sorry. I’ll check on Dorner and get back to you. If he’s got Hero, I’ll bring him back.”
The last part was said in a shout as she started the Harley and took off.
Stella had heard all she’d wanted to hear about John’s father. According to the tale, John’s father had been fired from working on her grandfather’s estate for no apparent reason. He’d killed himself shortly after.
Her grandfather’s part of the tale was that John’s father had been fired for stealing.
She didn’t know either man well enough to say which part was true. She didn’t exactly trust Ben Carson. She’d been kept away from him all of her life. Her mother had left Sweet Pepper when she was very young and had never looked back.
Recently, she’d confided to Stella that she’d thought Ben had killed her mother. That was why she’d left home. As the years had passed, Barbara Carson-Griffin had changed her mind. Now she believed it was shock and a youthful mind playing tricks on her.
The strange part was that Stella’s mother had never said anything about having family here at all. She’d let Stella take the temporary job in Sweet Pepper without even telling her that a part of her family she’d never known was waiting for her here.
Like many things that involved the Carson family, her mother’s leaving and decision to finally speak to her father again were shrouded in mystery. People in Sweet Pepper loved all the Carson lore and clung to it as they did their ghost stories.
Stella drove down the dark, twisting road to the firehouse more quickly than usual. She knew John was right behind her. She didn’t want to talk to him again that night. She was tired of trying to convince him that she wasn’t her grandfather.
She saw the pickup’s headlights flash a few times behind her as John tried to signal her. She ignored him and turned on the main road, heading out of town for the Carson estate.
It was a good night to ride the motorcycle. The weather was dry and mild for a change. It probably wouldn’t be long before they had snow and she had to put the Harley in storage for the winter.
Back home they’d already had snow. Stella’s mother or father called every day wondering when she was coming back. She wasn’t sure what to tell them. She was committed to finding Eric’s killer. She’d put everything else on hold for that purpose.
She knew Chief Henry wouldn’t hold her job forever. She kept hoping they’d find the answers to what had happened to Eric. But it had happened a long time ago. Many of the people involved were dead. Answers weren’t particularly forthcoming. She felt sure they were out there, but she wasn’t sure where.
The Harley took the steep hill to the estate entrance a lot easier than it took the mountain road to the cabin. Ben had offered to let her stay at the mansion, but Stella was reluctant.
It wasn’t only the fact that she didn’t really know him. Ben had remarried and Vivian, his new wife, was worried that Stella would take over. Vivian had a son, Marty, from a previous marriage. The two were always scheming, trying to find some way around Ben’s promise that neither of them would inherit his money, corporation, and property.
It was a regular soap opera right there in Sweet Pepper. Too much drama for Stella, who’d grown up with her father’s boisterous, and open, Irish family.
Bernard was at the gated entrance. He was her grandfather’s driver and took care of his collection of cars. He saluted her as he opened the gate. Stella raced through the portal and up to the house. The road was smooth and well lit. The estate was run carefully and tended like the pepper fields in the area. Nothing was left to chance. Everything went the way Ben Carson wanted it to—or there better be a good reason why not.
There were dozens of cars in the driveway. Her grandfather was waiting at the door as Stella parked her Harley and took off her helmet. “I was wondering when we’d see each other again,” he said. “You’re always so busy with the fire brigade. No time for an old man who loves you.”
Ben was tall and thin, stooped a little with age. His gray hair was thinning but his brown eyes, so like her mother’s, were sharp. He never missed a thing.
“I’m sorry about lunch last week.” She was slightly uncomfortable with his hug and his declaration of love. The only things she knew about him were things her mother had told her. She felt like their relationship was too sketchy for him to have any real feelings about her at all.
“That doesn’t matter. Can you stay for a while? I have some marvelous new muscadine wine that you might enjoy. It was one of the first bottles corked from my new vineyard.”
Stella didn’t want to seem rude. She’d been raised to respect her elders. “Sure. That sounds fine.”
They walked into the mansion together. There was a huge foyer with a wonderful crystal chandelier and an ornate, curving staircase that was very artistic.
It was also the same staircase where Barbara Carson, Stella’s mother, had found her mother’s dead body. Stella always looked away from that spot.
“Let’s sit in here,” Ben invited. “Vivian has one of her charity groups over tonight. I’d rather disturb a hornet’s nest than bother them.”
He led her into a small, private parlor and closed the door. A fire had been lit in the hearth, lending warmth to the dark paneled room. A few minutes later, one of the housemaids brought wine and two glasses.
“So, what can I do for you?” Ben uncorked the bottle and smelled it. “I know this isn’t a social call. You didn’t drive up here to sit and talk.”
“I have a few questions about Patrick Dorner.” She didn’t bother to deny that she was there for a reason.
“The chimney sweep.” He nodded as he poured them each some red wine. “How did he work out for you? I thought he did a great job here. All five chimneys are working very well. He was clean and punctual too.”
Stella took the glass of wine from him. Muscadine wine was popular in the area. It had a very different taste than the wine she was used to. She liked it. The earthy aroma and taste reminded her of summer.
“He did a good job for me. Thanks for referring him. Something else has come up. I was wondering if you had a fire in the house after he was here.”
Ben sat do
wn opposite her in another expensive dark leather chair near the fire. His white brows knit across his forehead. “You think he might be involved in the break-ins the police are investigating?”
“Maybe.” She sipped her wine. “Are you missing anything?”
“No. Not that I’m aware of. Are you?”
“No. He worked on the chimney and was gone. End of story. Except that Hero, the Dalmatian puppy we’re training for the fire brigade, is missing. He was at the cabin when Patrick was there.”
“You think Patrick took your dog?” Ben chuckled a little. “I thought the thief was taking jewelry and other nonliving things he could sell. What would he gain by taking your dog?”
It sounded even sillier the way he said it. Stella looked at the red wine in her glass. “I know it sounds crazy.” She told him about the Hero sightings and the girl saved from the fire that day.
“I’m not sure I follow. You think Patrick is starting these fires and he’s taking the dog around with him? This might be better left for the police, Stella. I’ll be glad to post a reward for the return of your dog, if you think that would help.”
She could see she wasn’t getting anywhere with the discussion. Maybe he was right about her theory. It sounded absurd the way he’d said it back to her.
She swallowed the rest of her wine and thanked him for listening. “I’m sure we’ll find Hero. It’s only a matter of time. I hope I’m wrong about Patrick.”
“Barking up the wrong tree, as it were.” Ben smiled fondly at her. “You don’t have to leave so soon. Tell me about the Loflin fire. That was a sad state of events. The charity I set up with the pepper plant is going to help them until they can get back on their feet.”
Stella was about to leave—with apologies for going so soon—when there was a disturbance outside the door to the parlor.
“Excuse me,” Ben said. “I don’t know what’s going on but Vivian’s group seems to be getting a little louder than usual.”
Vivian, backed by her charity group, seemed to be in the process of strangling one of the housemaids. Ben’s current wife was a a tall, thin blonde, who was elegantly frosted with diamonds. She’d only been married to him a few years. Everyone considered her the perfect society matron.
Ben separated the two women and demanded to know what was going on.
“My ruby ring is missing. I want it back,” Vivian told him with a flash of her blue eyes. “I think she took it.”
Chapter Seven
Ben glanced at Stella. “I may have spoken too soon.”
He questioned Vivian about the missing ring. She wasn’t sure when she’d worn it last. She’d previously seen the housemaid looking at it in her jewel case.
Stella kept her thoughts to herself. The looks on the faces of the group of ladies from Vivian’s charity were priceless. They’d clearly gotten more than they’d bargained for. Each of them had a deer-in-the-headlights look. No doubt they could all use a big glass of wine.
“I’ll check into this,” Ben promised Vivian. He apologized to the housemaid and had her escorted from the premises. He promised to give her job back if the charges were unfounded.
It reminded Stella disturbingly of what had supposedly happened to John’s father.
She watched her grandfather administer justice in his little domain. She never knew what was going on behind his shrewd mask. Maybe if she got to know him better, that would change. It didn’t seem as though it would happen in this lifetime.
“Stella.” Vivian held out her hand. “It’s good to see you.”
Vivian’s hand was soft and cold. Her expensive rings pressed into Stella’s hand.
“Vivian. Nice to see you too.”
“I’m sorry to leave you so abruptly. I’m afraid my ladies are upset after all of this. I hope you’ll join us for lunch one day. I know Ben would love to have you. Marty too. I know he regrets not being able to fulfill his obligations to the fire brigade. Ben keeps sending him all over the world.” She smiled. “I think he’s grooming Marty to take his place when the time is right.”
It wasn’t the first time Vivian tried to make her point about Ben’s money and business ventures.
Stella didn’t care. If Ben decided he wanted Vivian and Marty to have everything, that was fine with her. She smiled back at her. “We miss having Marty at practice and during calls. Maybe his life will settle down at some point so he can be part of the fire brigade again.”
Vivian smiled and nodded then ushered her group out of the foyer. That left Ben and Stella alone again.
“I don’t know about you,” Ben said. “But I could use another glass of wine. What a lot of noise over nothing. On the other hand, tell me everything you know about Patrick Dorner. You might be right about him.”
Stella stayed for the second glass of wine. She and Ben discussed the fires and the thefts. She told him John was going to talk with Patrick.
“I hope he figures this out.” Ben studied her over the rim of his glass. “How are you and Officer Trump getting along now? If the grapevine is to be believed, that relationship is over.”
She bristled over sharing such personal information with him. She supposed she’d let herself in for it by talking to him so freely about other things.
She was honest with him. “We have a stumbling block—you. John doesn’t like the Carson family and now I’m part of it.” He probably knew anyway. He seemed to make it a goal of his to know what was going on in her life.
“That’s just as well.” He finished his wine and set the glass on a nearby table. “He’s good enough for some. Not for you. I have plans for you, Stella. A husband like John would only hold you back. If you marry, you should do so with your future in mind. Who you spend your life with is as important a choice as any other you make.”
Answering personal questions made her bold. “What about Vivian? Was she a good choice?”
He laughed. “She was an excellent choice. She’s the ideal hostess. She knows her place in my life and how to fill it. I couldn’t ask anything more from her.”
“That’s nice.” She finished her wine and smiled. “I can’t imagine a captain in the Chicago Fire Department caring one way or another about marrying the right person. I don’t think I’ll ever lead the kind of life you do.”
“Let me show you what could be waiting for you, my dear.” He took her hand. “There is a whole world you’ve never imagined. Come and live with me.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“If it’s Vivian and Marty, don’t worry about it. They can be packed and gone tomorrow. I would much rather have you by my side.”
Ben had said similar things before. There was no doubt in Stella’s mind that he was serious. She had no intention of being that person.
“I thought you were grooming Marty to take over your company?” She couldn’t resist asking even though she knew it was unfair. She wasn’t planning to take him up on his offer—with or without Vivian and Marty.
“Is that what she told you?” He jerked his head in the direction of the door. “In her dreams. Marty means nothing to me. He’s not blood. You and your mother are my whole world now. Vivian and Marty are stand-ins.”
Ben said the words in such a cold and calculating way that Stella shivered. It was no wonder that her mother got out of here and never looked back.
Stella lurched to her feet and thanked him for the wine. “I appreciate the offer but I’m happy being a firefighter. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a hostess or to take over your business. Good night, Ben.”
“Think it over. Perhaps you should stay the night. You’ve had some wine. I wouldn’t want you to drive that infernal contraption of yours into a ditch again. Or let me have Bernard drive you to the cabin. I refuse to think of it as your home. You deserve better.”
Stella waved away his concerns. “I’ll be fine. I have my fat
her’s tolerance for alcohol. It goes with the red hair and freckles. I’ll see you later.”
She had spent the night once before at the mansion. She’d slept in her mother’s old bedroom, which still looked exactly as she’d left it. Stella didn’t know if she believed the house was haunted by the restless spirit of Abigail Carson, as so many people did in Sweet Pepper. Whether that was true or not, it was still creepy.
She put on her helmet and started the Harley. She wasn’t quite so fast to judge whether someplace was haunted or not anymore. Eric had certainly changed her mind about all of that.
She passed Marty in the drive on the way down. He was in one of his many muscle cars. She could see his face in the dim light from the dashboard.
She thought about his mother’s excuses for his nonparticipation in the fire brigade. It didn’t surprise her that he volunteered for the group but never really showed up. Comparing his life to JC’s life working in the pepper factory, Petey’s life as a waitress, and Ricky’s life working at his parents’ café, Marty had less of an excuse than any of them.
Stella had known Marty volunteering was a way to get in good with her. She’d always felt like she was, in his eyes, a plan B. If Vivian’s plans didn’t work out, fall back on Stella.
She turned onto the main road and heard her cell phone ring. Since there was no service at the cabin, she stopped at the firehouse to answer. Loud hard rock from the 1960s was playing from inside. She smiled, knowing that was Tagger’s favorite.
The call was from John. “I went out to the campground where I originally interviewed Patrick Dorner about the thefts and fires. He was gone, Stella. I couldn’t tell if Hero was with him or not. The people who were camped around him had dogs. They said they didn’t notice if Patrick had a dog or not. I saw a lot of dog poop, but that could’ve been from any of the dogs. Sorry I can’t be more help.”
“Did you tell Don? Is he interested enough in Patrick as a suspect to look for him?”
John sighed heavily. “I don’t think so. He didn’t sound like it anyway. I’ll talk to him again when I get back to the office. How’d it go with the old man?”