Home Again: Starting Over

by Becki Willis

  “Do you know if they ever came to a resolution?”

  “I’m not sure. I do know the barn he re-built in its place wasn’t nearly as big.”

  “What about a fire the next year at Montelongo’s?”

  “That one I remember. A grease fire started in the kitchen. We contained it before it spread to the front of the restaurant, but it did a lot of smoke damage. They were closed for several days.” He looked down at Genny. “That was before you opened. I almost starved to death that week.”

  “Have you ever thought of learning to cook?” the blonde beside him suggested.

  “I can cook,” he informed her. “I simply prefer to keep the local eateries in business.”

  Madison ignored their repartee. The file noted personal liability insurance. Perhaps Cutter knew about that, as well.

  “Do you happen to know if anyone was hurt during the fire?” she asked.

  “Bernie Havlicek claimed to be. He worked there at the time. In fact, he was the one to start the fire. He claimed to burn his hand, but I saw him a few days later and he was feeling no pain, if you get my drift. I think faking an injury was his way of covering up his own negligence.”

  “By calling attention to himself? That doesn’t sound too smart,” Genesis frowned.

  “This is Bernie we’re talking about. He doesn’t believe in hard work. If there’s an easy way to make a dollar, he’s the first in line. He probably figured there was more money in an insurance claim than in getting his job back, once they reopened.”

  “I never pegged him for the food industry type.”

  “As far as I know, that was his one and only stab at being a cook. He had only worked there a couple of weeks when the accident happened.”

  “Hmm,” Madison said thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you would know anything about Ray Sams, losing his RV just across the county line?” Madison asked.

  “Sure. That sucker went up like a roman candle. He had an auxiliary fuel tank attached to it, full of gasoline. After the initial explosion, the whole thing melted like a cheap candle. It was one of those high-dollar jobs, too, with all the slide outs and upgrades. I hope he had it insured, because it was a total loss and then some.”

  “What causes a fire like that?”

  Cutter shrugged. “Could be anything. An electrical short, faulty wiring, someone tossing out a cigarette, leaving an appliance turned on inside…”

  Genesis scooped a tortilla chip into the cheesy dip concoction on the coffee table. “Mmm, this is delicious.”

  “Thanks. It’s your recipe,” Madison grinned.

  “In that case, I’ll have one,” Cutter said. When he opened his mouth expectantly, Genny grunted in objection. She complied by stuffing a loaded chip inside and deliberately smearing some of the dip around his lips. He made a face and swiped it away with his thumb.

  “Serves you right for being lazy,” she muttered.

  Madison watched their interaction with amusement. They weren’t exactly flirting, but they seemed completely comfortable with one another. Somewhere along the way, there had been a subtle shift in their relationship. She made a mental note to ask Genny about it later.

  Cutter got the next chip himself. “Why all the questions about old fires?”

  “It may be nothing. But I ran across some information,” she chose her words carefully, “that I think warrants a closer look. I’m not at liberty to say much, but I hope you’ll indulge me and tell me what you know.”

  “Sure, anything to help.” He ate a third helping. “This is really good.”

  “Do you happen to remember a chimney fire at William Shank’s house? I’m guessing that must be Miss Wanda’s late husband?”

  “Oh, she’s not a widow,” Cutter corrected her. “They got a divorce a few years ago, after being married for over fifty years.”

  “Why would you stay married to someone for that long and then all of a sudden get a divorce? That doesn’t even make sense,” Genny commented.

  “Could have something to do with finding him in bed with another woman.”

  “You have got to be kidding!”

  “Nope. Miss Wanda caught them together, walked into the living room, took a shotgun down from the gun case, and walked back in the bedroom without saying a word. Pearl Simpson ran out of the house, butt naked, waving her hands in the air and screaming at the top of her lungs.”

  They all laughed at the mental image of the woman running down the street without any clothes. According to Blake, simply seeing Wanda Shanks in her bathing suit while doing granny aerobics was enough to scar his young eyes forever. Madison could not imagine the trauma of him seeing Pearl Simpson, already at least seventy at the time of the incident, in all her wrinkled glory.

  When their laughter had settled down, Madison returned to her line of questioning. “So was the chimney fire before or after the divorce? I think it may have been about five years ago.”

  “Before, because it was the house Miss Wanda still lives in. She has a gas insert now. I check it out for her, every fall.”

  “Are you thinking this is insurance fraud?” Genesis prodded.

  “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m thinking,” Madison admitted. “But something feels off.”

  “You should always trust your instincts,” Cutter advised.

  “There was another one. Carson Elliot.”

  Genny’s eyes flew to her friend. “Our Carson?” she asked, clearly shocked. This was the first she had heard of it.

  “I would say he’s definitely more yours than mine,” Madison smirked.

  A deep frown burrowed Cutter’s forehead. “Wait a minute. He’s that guy that teaches dance lessons.”

  “Yes, we know.”

  He looked from Madison’s smug smile to Genny’s flushed face. His scowl turned suspicious. “He’s not some sort of old pervert, is he? Has he been giving you trouble, Genny?”

  “No, no, nothing like that.”

  “But he did invite her to come for lessons,” Maddy teased. “Private lessons.”

  “He did not!” Genny protested. She made a fluttering motion with her hands, batting the attention away from herself. “Go on with your questions, Maddy. I had no idea Carson’s home burned. When was this?”

  “About five years ago. It was a brand new house, too.”

  “Yeah, over in Riverton,” Cutter said. He was slow to answer, his mind apparently still stuck on the matter of inappropriate private dance lessons. Eying Genny with skepticism, he answered Madison’s original question. “They called us for backup, but it was completely engulfed by the time we got there. All we could do was keep it from spreading.”

  “I always hate to hear about house fires,” Madison murmured. “I can’t imagine losing everything you have, all in a matter of minutes.”

  “He was one of the luckier ones. It was a new house and he hadn’t moved in yet. Total loss on the house, but at least he still had his possessions.”

  Genny cocked her head. “Why would a new house just burn down like that?”

  Cutter shrugged, the action pulling at the seams of his pale blue western shirt. The color reflected in his chameleon eyes. “Same reasons a motor home would burn up. Any home, really.”

  “Do you think you could find out more about the details on any of these? Maybe from the fire inspector or something?” Maddy asked hopefully.

  “I can try. I may have a few notes in my files down at the station. If the fires were in our jurisdiction, that is.”

  “That would be great. And I just have one last question,” Madison promised.

  He loaded a chip with dip and motioned for her to continue.

  “I understand you were the first to respond to the 911 call on Gloria Jeffers.”

  In spite of himself, his nose wrinkled slightly. “That’s right.”

  “What can you tell me about that night?”

  The normally confident young man looked uncomfortable as he realigned his baseball cap. “Not a lot,” he said slow
ly. “Confidentiality, and all that. Her friend—Carson Elliot, actually—was the one to find her.”

  “I understand she died of alcohol poisoning?”

  “That’s what they say.”

  “Did you see any signs of alcohol that night? Any bottles of whiskey or wine? Anything?”

  His handsome face scrunched into a scowl. “Now that you mention it, no. I didn’t see a single bottle.”

  “Do you think Carson may have moved them? Hidden the evidence, thinking he was sparing her reputation?”

  “Could be,” Cutter acknowledged. “You know, I’ve attended a lot of strange and embarrassing-situation deaths. A married man, dying of a heart attack in his mistress’ bed. Car wrecks and fires when the victim isn’t where they’re supposed to be or is with a person they aren’t supposed to be with. Overdoses that come as a complete shock because loved ones had no idea the person was a junkie. Most deaths are ugly to begin with. But that poor woman had to have suffered the most undignified death I have ever seen.”

  “Her friend insists she was not an alcoholic. That she didn’t even drink,” Madison said.

  “Yet the tox screen tells a different story. From what I understand, she had astronomically large levels of alcohol in her system.”

  “But there were no bottles at the scene of her death,” Genny pointed out.

  “Again, I wasn’t looking for them.”

  They were all silent for a long moment, contemplating the situation. Finally, Cutter stuffed a chip into his mouth, loaded another one, and handed it to Genny. “Don’t make me eat all this by myself.” He lightened the mood by teasing her. “Unless you think it will slow down your dance moves.”

  “Very funny. And I advise you to eat all you can now, before Blake gets a whiff of it.”

  “Isn’t that the truth!” Maddy laughed. Hearing the oven buzzer go off, she unfolded her long legs and stood. “Oops, excuse me. That would be the second bowl of dip. If the girls are lucky, Blake might share with them.”

  “Girls?” Genny asked.

  “Megan’s on her way,” Maddy said over her shoulder.

  With a wince, Genny peeked over at Cutter. “Be warned. I have it on good authority that both girls think you are the hottest thing in Wranglers.”

  “They’re just kids!” he cried in protest.

  “So?” she shrugged. “Even kids have valid opinions.”

  His grin was playfully naughty. “Does that mean you agree with them?” he teased.

  Color infused her face. Before she could come up with a smart denial, Cutter gave her a break. “Hey, seeing your face turn red reminds me. You’ve got to see this new app I have. It’s hilarious.”

  He fished into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Turning it to selfie mode, he aligned the screen with his face and tapped. “Look at this.” Another tap distorted his image into an elongated version that bore little resemblance to his handsome face.

  “Oh, that’s awful!” Genny hooted with laughter.

  “Look at this one. It gives me big red spots.”

  “You look like you have a case of giant chicken pox!”

  “Think that’s funny? Look at this one.” His image puffed and swelled, his jaws drooping with the visual weight. “Here, let’s do you. Open your mouth and see what happens.”

  They played on the phone, howling with mirth at the images that appeared on the screen. Madison could hear them as she took the dip from the oven.

  “What in the world is going on in there?” Granny Bert asked as she wandered into the kitchen.

  “Cutter and Genny are playing on their phones. They sound like a couple of teenagers, don’t they?”

  “I hate to say it, but Cutter laughs like a girl.”

  Madison shrugged. “It’s good to know he has at least one fault. According to most every female in town, he’s near perfect.”

  Granny Bert peered through the opened doorway of the kitchen and the living room beyond. Even with a dining room between them, she had a clear view of the couch and the two people sitting on it, heads bent close as they took selfies together and broke out in unrestrained laughter. Through peals of merriment, Genny wiped tears from her eyes.

  Granny Bert turned back to Madison in confusion. She cocked her gray head toward the living room. “When did that happen?”

  Madison understood the question. “I don’t think they even know that it has.”

  “Humph,” her grandmother snorted. “They need to get a mirror.” Another gale of laughter floated through the rooms. Granny saw Cutter lay his cheek against Genny’s and snap a photo. “And a room.”

  “Psst. Mom.”

  Bethani’s loud whisper drew their attention. She stood at the edge of the hallway, striking a pose in her stylish ripped jeans and cute shirt. “Does this look okay?”

  “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” Madison assured the teen.

  “I’m not overdressed, am I?” she worried.

  “Your jeans look like they got caught in a weed-eater,” Granny Bert harrumphed. “You’re not overdressed to take the trash out.”

  “These jeans are the latest style,” the teen protested.

  Madison averted her face from her daughter. “She wants to make a good impression on our company,” she told her grandmother, sending a silent code through her raised eyebrows.

  Granny Bert glanced back at the cozy couple on the couch. They still giggled in glee, lost in the camera and their own little world.

  “I’m not sure he’ll notice.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  When the show was over and their company gone, Granny Bert helped Madison with cleanup.

  “I am plumb disgusted with myself,” the older woman proclaimed as she wiped the counter clean.

  “Why is that?” Maddy asked.

  “I must be slipping. I thought I had my finger on the pulse of this community, but here I’ve missed the hottest romance of all! I guess I was so focused on you and Brash, I completely missed what was happening with your best friend. And right beneath my nose.” She shook her head in self-deprecation. “I’m definitely losing my edge.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Granny. Nothing has actually happened between them. Genny thinks she’s too young for him. The truth is, he’s older than he looks. When she thought he was only twenty-five or so, she looked at it as a harmless crush. Finding out he’s thirty-one and only eight years younger than herself has her freaked out.”

  Granny Bert gave a wise shake of her gray head. “No, no. Eight years is just the right age span. Men aren’t as tough as us women. Their bodies wear out long before ours do, even without childbirth. It’s best to get a younger man that will see you through your golden years.” Seeing the frown pop out on her granddaughter’s forehead, she was quick to amend, “Brash might be the exception. He’s a fine specimen of man and healthy as a horse. Don’t get ideas about replacing him with a younger model. But Genny? She should latch onto that Montgomery boy with both hands.”

  “I’ll be sure to pass along the message.”

  “You do that. I don’t want her to face the same heartache I did.”

  Madison was sympathetic to her plight. “I know you’ve been lonely since Grandpa died. Even though you stay busy, I know it’s not the same.”

  “I miss that man every day. There wasn’t a better man on God’s green earth than Joe Cessna, and I loved him with every fiber of my being. But your grandfather was not my first love.”

  Madison’s head snapped up from the dish she washed. “What? You had a sweetheart before Grandpa Joe? Why haven’t I ever heard this before?”

  “Well, for one thing, your grandfather was powerful jealous, and he didn’t like me talking about other men. And just for the record, I had several fellas before Joe. But only one that I loved.”

  “Really? Who was it? Anyone I know?”

  Granny shook her head. A note of sorrow slipped into her voice. “He left town when I broke it off. You see, he was younger than me. Shorter, too
. I had some foolish notion that the man was supposed to be the big, tall, elder of a couple. A few of my friends teased me about dating a little boy, and I was fool enough to listen. It wasn’t until he was gone that I realized how stupid I was. He was a fine young man, but I judged him by numbers. I let a ruler and a calendar convince me he wasn’t worthy of my love. Stupidest thing I ever did.”

  “But… you loved Grandpa Joe!” Madison protested. “You were happy with him.”

  “Of course I was. The smartest thing I ever did was learn from my mistakes. It took awhile, but I pieced my heart back together and gave it to your grandfather, cracks and all. He made it whole again. I had fifty-three wonderful years and three sons with that man. But he was almost ten years older than me, and I’ve been a widow now for eight years. Genesis would be wise to marry a man younger than her. It will save her some heartache and lonely years later on.”

  Madison protested. “I don’t know about marriage. But it definitely looks like some sort of relationship is in the making.”

  Granny Bert offered one of her characteristic snorts. “Neither one of you girls are getting any younger. If it’s not already, marriage should be on both your minds!”

  Madison nibbled on her lower lip. “You know,” she murmured aloud, “I think I might sympathize with Bethani a little more than I did. I always thought of you and Grandpa Joe as having the ultimate marriage, the ultimate love. Knowing you loved someone else makes me feel a little queasy. It—It sort of shakes my foundation, you know?” She sucked in her breath, touching a hand to her stomach. “I think that must be how Beth feels. She thought Gray and I had the perfect marriage. Seeing me with Brash must make her feel the same way.” It was a hard realization. Her heart felt as uneasy as her stomach.