If Bread Could Rise to the Occasion

by Paige Shelton

  The party in the saloon was going strong and a bass beat shook the boardwalk. Even the jail’s door knob rattled as I grabbed and pulled. Inside was one of the sorriest sights I’d ever seen.

  Four of our students were there, seated in a line of chairs to the side of Cliff’s desk.

  The three I’d seen earlier at Bunny’s were present: Jules, Shelby, and Elian. And the fourth criminal was Freddie, who looked much worse for the wear and much more subdued than the other three. In fact, Freddie’s timid glance away from my eyes was only exaggerated by the other three’s obvious anger and their ability to keep their glares firmly focused on me. Jules had her arms crossed in front of her chest and her toe was tapping so quickly I thought she might put a divot into the hard floor. Elian leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and was purely disgusted, though I didn’t think the disgust was meant for me. Shelby looked the least disturbed but she sighed heavily. She shook her head slightly as if to let me know that she could not believe she’d gotten herself into whatever it was that they’d gotten themselves into.

  I sighed, too. It was rare that I or Gram had to pick up students from the jail but it had happened a time or two in the past. Usually, issues were resolved quickly, and they weren’t unsolvable problems in the first place. According to Cliff, this wasn’t serious, either, but Freddie’s blackened eye and disheveled hair made me wonder.

  Cliff stood as I approached the group. “Hey, Betts.”

  “Hello.” I didn’t mean to sound so teacherly when I spoke next, but I did. “Who wants to tell me what happened?”

  Of course, everyone began to speak at once; everyone but Freddie, who continued to try to avoid my glance as he fidgeted in the chair.

  Cliff stepped forward and put his hand up to halt the commotion. I was impressed by the immediate silence.

  “Betts, the best I can understand is that Mr. O’Bannon crashed the wedding reception and was involved in a tussle with a bona fide invited guest.”

  “Freddie, you crashed a wedding and got a black eye?” I said.

  Freddie looked at me and shook his head.

  “Oh, no, that won’t work,” I said. “Truly, I don’t have the time or the patience for the silent treatment or any effort you might want to make to protect someone else. I need to hear what happened—from everyone’s point of view—so spill it. You first, Freddie. Cliff, you have any ice?”

  Cliff nodded and disappeared toward the back of the building.

  Everyone else in the room turned toward Freddie.

  “I, uh, well, I thought I saw someone else in there so I went in to see what they were doing.”

  “Who did you see?”

  “Brenda.”

  “Our student, Brenda?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why isn’t she here?” I asked him and the others.

  “It wasn’t Brenda.”

  “I was there,” Elian said. “I’d crashed the party.”

  “You thought Elian was Brenda?” I said to Freddie.

  “No, I didn’t see Elian.”

  “But you saw Freddie?” I said to Elian.

  Elian nodded. “Yes, and I saw him run into the guy he ran into. He spilled his drink.”

  “So, he, that guy, hit Freddie?” I said.

  “No!” Freddie said.

  “That’s exactly what I saw,” Elian said.

  “I’m really confused. Freddie, how do you think you got the black eye?” I said.

  Cliff handed Freddie a plastic bag full of ice.

  “Thanks,” Freddie said to Cliff. “No one hit me. I ran into something.”

  “A fist,” Elian said.

  “No!” Freddie said.

  I looked at Cliff, who shook his head. “No one else except Elian saw Freddie get hit by anyone. Elian looked through the crowd for the man he saw accost Freddie, but he couldn’t find him.”

  “I saw the man because I saw Freddie come into the party. I saw the whole thing. No one else was paying attention really. Everyone was just enjoying the party,” Elian said.

  “What did you think you ran into?” I asked Freddie.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Jules, Shelby, why are you here?” I said.

  “Because we apparently picked the wrong person to be friends with,” Jules said bitterly.

  “Elian said he wanted to crash the party,” Shelby explained. “We didn’t want to go with him so we went to the pool hall to waste some time. We were there when Elian called us to come help gather Freddie. We went into the reception and found Elian and Freddie at the back of the room. Freddie didn’t want to leave with Elian. Just as we had him convinced that we all needed to get out of there, the police officer”—she nodded toward Cliff—“came and got us.”

  “Someone reported uninvited guests. I went to clear them out, but they weren’t as cooperative as I hoped they’d be.”

  “Sorry,” Shelby said. “I shouldn’t have been so vocal. I just thought it was ridiculous that the police were there.”

  “I would have left on my own, if they’d all just left me alone,” Freddie said.

  Elian and Jules remained silent on this point, making me think they must have been the most obnoxious about the police being involved and didn’t want to relive the moment or share the details.

  “No one else saw what happened to you?” I said to Freddie.

  Cliff answered. “Not that I could determine. It would have been helpful if someone had. It was the bride who reported two men in the back of the room who seemed to be arguing, and who hadn’t been invited. She noticed Freddie’s eye but she claimed she didn’t see a scuffle, either. She just wanted them out of there. If they’d gone quietly, we wouldn’t be here now.”

  “We’re all sorry for the ruckus we caused,” Jules said, but I didn’t think her words were chock-full of sincerity.

  “It was bad,” Elian offered. “We were way too noisy and should have just gone with Officer Sebastian.”

  Cliff and I looked at each other, and he said, “Apology accepted, though I’d really like to understand what happened to Freddie.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  The four of them looked at each other, but it was impossible to read if they were relaying something, perhaps they’d formed some pact not to tell, but that didn’t feel quite right. I didn’t have a clue, but I wished I did.

  “I think you may all go now,” Cliff said. “I’d like for you to stay out of trouble but I think that goes without saying.”

  All eight of their eyes, including Freddie’s black one, brightened.

  “No bail?” Shelby asked. “No fine, whatsoever?”

  “Not this time, but if there is a next time, it will be double,” Cliff said.

  “Thank you and we’re truly sorry,” Elian said.

  Cliff and I stood back as each of them stood and then exited the jail.

  I watched them leave and it seemed that they separated into two groups: Elian, Jules, and Shelby in one group and only Freddie in the other. More had gone on than any of them would fess up to, I was sure.

  “What the heck happened?” I said to Cliff when the door was closed.

  “I have no real idea. Clearly not what they said happened.” Cliff moved one of the chairs around his desk and closer to his chair. “Come sit a minute if you have time.”

  “Were they really obnoxious when you tried to get them out of there?” I said as I moved to the chair.

  “Yes. Lucky me.”

  “I apologize for them,” I said. “I will have to let Gram know. She won’t be happy, but she won’t kill them or anything. This time.”

  Cliff smiled. “Good to know. And you don’t need to apologize for them. They’re adults. They’re responsible for themselves.” He lifted a cup from his desk. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  “No, I should let you work. Jim wouldn’t like officers’ girlfriends hanging around.”

  “Just like old times when I worked at the museum. Remember when old Mr. Hafferty caught
us making out in the back room.”

  “He was so mad.” I smiled at the totally alive man who was smiling at me.

  “I wanted to talk to you anyway. Evan stopped by.”

  “Fire Marshal Evan?”

  “One and the same.”

  “He showed Jim and me some compelling evidence about the old bakery fire. He said you and he were discussing it the other day.”

  “Yes, we were.”

  There was no question to Cliff’s voice. He didn’t wonder why in the world I would be talking to Evan, to anyone, about an ancient fire. The surge of adrenaline I felt was the result of what had become my new normal of not telling him about the ghosts in Broken Rope. He didn’t care or mind that I was curious about the fire, and I didn’t need to explain anything to him, including those things I was purposefully leaving out. It wasn’t easy having so many secrets.

  “He’s looking at it more closely as you know. He wondered if we’d pay for an expert or two to take a look. I’m curious. I’m done here in a few minutes and thought I’d drive by the building tonight. I won’t go in, too dangerous, but there’s something I want to look at from the outside, make sure I have the locations in my head right. You want to go with me? Jake will be jealous we didn’t invite him for the brief walk down history lane, but he’ll get over it.”

  A wave of unease rocked me. I didn’t want to go back to the bakery. I’d told people, both alive and dead, that I wouldn’t. But we wouldn’t consider going inside the building, and just looking at it couldn’t possibly be dangerous. Besides, I’d be with Cliff.

  “I’d love to,” I said, squelching my earlier instinct.

  “Great. Give me a few minutes to type up a note to Jim. Officer Jenkins will be here shortly.

  Officer Jenkins was the newest officer in the Broken Rope police department. His arrival effectively bumped Cliff out of the rank of “newbie,” which had been cause for celebration. Jenkins was big, young, and serious, and Cliff really liked him.

  As Cliff typed on his keyboard, I glanced at the wall of handcuffs. Jim and previous police chiefs had collected handcuffs over the years and hung them on one of the front walls. The jail, the office of the official police, wasn’t a tourist stop, but sometimes visitors stopped by anyway and asked to photograph the wall of cuffs they’d heard about. Most of the time Jim welcomed them in, but sometimes he didn’t.

  The wall was also what I considered my first contact with Jerome. I’d been in the jail when a pair of cuffs, without explanation, fell off the wall and to the ground. Shortly after I left the building that night I thought I saw a cowboy down by the old Jasper Theater.

  I glanced back at Cliff, again the man who was currently very alive, and pretty darn wonderful in his own right. He didn’t have an odd and unfashionable mustache. His clothing had no tears and they weren’t dusty. His hair was police officer short and he liked and kept it that way.

  It had never occurred to me that I could have such strong feelings for two men at one time. For analysis purposes, I took out of the equation that Jerome was dead and thought about what I would do if I was truly faced with a choice.

  And dammit, I had no idea.

  “Ms. Winston,” Officer Jenkins said after he came through the front door. “How are you this evening?”

  “I’m good, Jenkins,” I said. Jenkins was what he wanted to be called. “How are you?”

  “I’m excellent, thank you.”

  Moments later, after Cliff finished the work on the computer and had changed out of his uniform into jeans and a casual collared shirt, we were out the door. The wedding reception had quieted substantially and the boardwalk was no longer vibrating.

  “Should we take the Nova?” I said, the only other option being Cliff’s police cruiser, which was his to drive even on personal errands.

  “Sure. If the neighbors see my car, they might wonder.”

  I drove us out to the old building and pulled into the familiar slot.

  “Good choice,” Cliff said about my parking decision.

  As we got out of the car, Cliff looked up at the building. “Look at this place. If I believed in ghosts, I’d say there must certainly be some inside there.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said.

  “Boy, would he be in for a big surprise,” a voice from behind me said. The wood smoke smell gave him away.

  I turned and acknowledged Jerome, but then I turned back to Cliff.

  “It hasn’t changed much since we were younger, except for some more broken glass and broken-out windows. I’m pretty sure the fire started down in the jutted wing part of the building. That’s where I want to look, compare what I saw in the pictures. You want to come with me? If so, be careful of all the glass,” Cliff said.

  “Isabelle, you shouldn’t be here. I told you that this is a dangerous place for you. Please be aware,” Jerome said.

  “Go ahead, Cliff,” I said. “I might join you but I want to soak in the atmosphere a little first.”

  Cliff hesitated. I wasn’t usually much for soaking in atmosphere. “Okay. Be careful.”

  “You, too.”

  I watched him walk down the outer edge of the property, right next to the street, where there wasn’t much glass. When he turned in toward the building and into some tall weeds, I spoke while keeping my lips from moving too much.

  “I’m not going inside, Jerome. I’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What about Cliff. Is he in danger, too?”

  “No, I really don’t think so.”

  “Then why am I?”

  “Because you can see ghosts.”

  “Oh, well, that explains everything. I’m not going inside. Cliff just wants to look at the outside of one of the walls.”

  Jerome made a grumbling noise, but I stepped away from him and took the same path Cliff had just walked.

  “I think you’ll be okay if you stay outside, but I’m just not sure,” Jerome said as he appeared next to me. “Please, be careful.”

  “I will. I promise,” I said. We moved in tandem, the only sounds being my footfalls. “Hey, I’m sorry for the library. I was probably way too forward. I was never good at shy and retiring. I’m sure I chased off a few guys in my time.” I looked toward Cliff, who was standing at the bottom of the wing’s wall and looking up at something close to the top of the building. I hadn’t been as blunt when I was in high school, but I didn’t think I would have chased Cliff away even if I had been.

  “You didn’t scare me away,” Jerome said. “I just don’t quite know how to respond to it all.”

  I started to speak.

  “NO!” he said, but then he continued more gently. “No, don’t ask me to tell you what I ‘feel.’ That’s not a wise thing for anyone involved. I’m not supposed to feel anyway. Give me some time to figure out how in tarnation I’m supposed to behave and I’ll talk to you more. But, Isabelle Winston, that’s a good fella there. He’s one that you shouldn’t let go of no matter what.”

  I knew that. I’d already made that mistake once. I wasn’t going to make it again. I truly wasn’t using Cliff as a stop-gap between visits from Jerome. I hadn’t known I’d see Jerome so soon. I certainly hadn’t expected the giant emotions that would overtake me when I did see him.

  I looked at him and suddenly wondered if his visit, simply because it was such a surprise, not because he was a ghost I thought I was attracted to, had rattled those emotions so much that I’d become overwhelmed and might have misinterpreted them. Our good-bye last time had been dramatic, and I’d infused it with so many layers of “romance” that I very easily could have built it all into something it really wasn’t. Maybe. I couldn’t be completely sure, but it was as if a dim beam of light had suddenly been illuminated. The guilt I felt became bigger, but at the same time I wondered if the feelings I had for Jerome suddenly became smaller. Maybe I’d overreacted to him, but even though the guilt I felt was real and deep, I wanted to comfort myself with the fact that the overreaction migh
t have been involuntary. Who can see this sort of thing—a crush on a ghost—coming? There aren’t ways to prepare.

  Still, I couldn’t let myself off the hook that easily. I needed to shape up.

  “Betts, come here,” Cliff said. “It looks like Evan was right and I’m beginning to think we really should call in an expert before we tear it down.”

  I high-stepped my way through weeds and glass to join Cliff who had pulled out a flashlight I didn’t know he had. He aimed the light up.

  “Look there.”

  The darkness was similar to the other two times I’d recently visited the bakery building, almost complete except for some milky streetlamp spray. I looked up to where the flashlight was aimed.

  “I just see the building,” I said.

  “Of course,” Cliff said. “But according to some pictures that Evan showed me of the original bakery, this is the spot they rebuilt.”

  “Okay.”

  “Our files show that this isn’t where the ovens were located. I wanted to see if I had the correct spots in my head based on both sets of pictures.”

  I thought about my time inside the bakery of the mid-twentieth century. Cliff was correct. This wasn’t where the ovens were.

  “Huh. I guess they didn’t know how to look at that kind of stuff back then,” I said. “You know, studying how or exactly where a fire started.”

  “I don’t know if they didn’t know or if they didn’t care,” Cliff said. “There seems to be some controversy around the fire. Well, now at least.”

  “Really?”

  “The police didn’t investigate for very long or all that deeply. It became an accepted theory that the fire started as the result of a bad oven. Two people were killed, but Evan says even that needs to be explored further. I’m ready to agree with him.”

  “I don’t understand.” I thought I knew what he was getting at, but I wanted to learn as much information as I could.

  “Evan thinks the pictures show evidence of more bodies. I might have found a note from an old police file that said the same thing, but I’m not sure how to present it to the world yet.”