In Hot Water (19 page)

“It’s a girl!” Doc Schultz shouted. “Now someone take me home.”

T
he ambulance arrived at the same time as the power crew. People began going home after the excitement. Banyin and Jake rode to the hospital in Sevierville to have both mother and daughter checked out.

Stella and Eric were some of the last participants to leave.

“It’s too bad no one will ever know the truth about moving those electric lines.” Stella watched the power crew cleaning up the mess. The pole would need to be replaced from the impact of the Chevy.

“It’s for the best,” Eric said. “Like you told me, no one needs to know what’s waiting for them when they die.”

“You’re still a hero.” She smiled at him as she drove away from Pepper Lane. “I didn’t realize I’d have such big shoes to fill when I came here.”

He laughed. “Yeah. It’s a life and
afterlife
commitment, I guess.”

Stella stopped at the firehouse to let Tagger and Petey know what happened. The pumper and the engine crews were still there cleaning the equipment and packing away their gear.

She changed clothes. It had been difficult and uncomfortable to stuff the large dress under her turnout gear. She packaged the dress and bonnet in a shopping bag and traded it for jeans and a sweater that she kept in her locker.

They sat around the big table in the kitchen talking about Banyin’s baby and Petey coming back to work.

“That was amazing the way you moved those live wires, Chief,” Petey gushed. “I want you to show me how to do that.”

Tagger snickered. “I got a feeling I know how she did it.” He winked at Eric.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Stella said. “We had to get into the car. All of you need to be trained with the hot stick. How’d you find out about it?”

Petey took out her cell phone. “Are you kidding? Royce texted me a picture as you were doing it. Probably half the state knows about it by now. You might go viral, Chief.”

Stella laughed. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. Everyone should put a caption on the picture—‘Don’t try this at home.’”

Talk turned to the crowning of the new Sweet Pepper Festival queen and her court. Foster Waxman had dominated for another year. Everyone wondered who would take the crown next year when Foster went to college.

After half an hour or so, Stella yawned and decided to go back to the cabin.

“Goodnight, Chief,” Tagger said. “I hope the rest of the night isn’t so exciting.”

“Me too,” she agreed. “Good job everyone. Let’s remember to get something to the hospital for Banyin tomorrow.”

In the Cherokee, going back up the mountain, Eric said, “We make a good team. I do the work, you get the glory. I like it.”

“I don’t know if that’s a fair assessment, but we do make a good team.”

Stella parked the Cherokee next to the cabin. She started to get out and then noticed Eric staring at the cabin, not moving. “What is it?”

“You know, I lost some memories from when I died. They kind of come and go. I think I just remembered something from my will that might help save the cabin.”

“What is it? Do you have a copy of the will?”

“I think so. Probably upstairs with the rest of my stuff. I can’t recall exactly, but there’s something about the cabin and the firehouse.”

Stella went inside with Eric. She took off her coat and started upstairs.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To help you look for your will.”

“I can look without you. You must be exhausted. Get some rest.”

“I’ve been up here before, you know.” She kept going up the two flights of stairs that led to the loft. “I’ve seen your stuff.”

“You’ve only seen what I
let
you see.”

Stella turned on the light in the room upstairs. It was cluttered with pieces of furniture, books, and other items that had once belonged to Eric. There was a double bed she’d made use of for company, a chest of drawers, a rocking chair like the ones on the back deck, and a hand-carved cradle.

“Why the cradle?” She made it rock with a gentle hand.

“Hoping to have a family someday, I suppose. I never meant to live alone all my life. I just thought the right woman would come along.” He smiled at her. “I guess I thought it would be
before
I died.”

Stella didn’t know what to say to that so she busied herself going through papers that were on the table beside the bed. “If we both look we can probably find it faster.”

“I have some personal items I might not want to share.” Eric stood slightly above the hardwood floor. “I think you should go back downstairs.”

“That’s not going to happen, especially now that I know there are other things up here that you’re hiding. Why do you think the town didn’t throw all of your stuff away after you died?”

“There was talk of a museum.”

“Dedicated to
you
?” She grinned. “That would be interesting. The stories I could tell.”

“Okay. You can stay. Just don’t touch anything.”

Stella sat on the bed while Eric rummaged around in a few crates and metal file cabinets. She knew he’d made the bed, the chest, and the cradle, as well as the rest of the furniture downstairs. He’d been a wonderful craftsman and a well-loved fire chief. That’s why the people who’d known him hadn’t gotten rid of the things that were important to him. As time had passed, people had probably forgotten what was up here. Then they were afraid of his ghost.

“I think I found it.” Eric was suddenly sitting beside her on the bed.

“Your will?”

He handed the document to her. There was that familiar feeling of having been zapped by static electricity as their fingers met. “The last will and testament of Eric Gamlyn.”

Stella studied the yellowed paper and scrawling handwriting. Most of it was about bequests he’d made to various community groups. “I guess you really
did
find gold up north, huh? Or being fire chief paid better back then.”

He laughed. “It didn’t pay anything. Fire chief was a volunteer position too.”

“Good thing that changed or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” She smiled and shook her head. “Eric! You were
wealthy
. You spent all your money on Sweet Pepper and then gave them this property.”

“What else was I gonna do with it? There was no wife, no children, to think about.”

“Still. No wonder everyone loved you.” She continued to read his will. “This is a huge piece of property—two hundred acres. You’ve got a lot of river frontage too. That’s expensive now.”

“Look at the bottom part.” He pointed a lightly glowing finger at the paragraph she was reading. “See the conditions set for the town to keep the property?”

Stella scanned the words. “So the town has to keep the whole two hundred acres intact, including the cabin and the firehouse? They can’t sell it at all?”

“That’s what I thought I remembered. I can’t explain it, but it gets a little confusing sometimes between when I was alive and now.”

“You
did
die in between. I think we should allow for that being traumatic.”

“Don’t you think that should take care of the problem? What was the town council thinking anyway?”

Stella shrugged. “Maybe they haven’t read this. It’s been a long time. I’ll call my grandfather’s lawyer tomorrow and let him take a look at it.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“What else is over there in your boxes?”

“Pictures. Medals. Things people collect over a lifetime, even a short lifetime.”

“Well, I promise not to snoop—at least as long as you’re here.” She got up from the bed. “I’m going to sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“Where’s that detonator?”

“It’s downstairs. Why?”

“I thought I’d look it up on the Internet.”

“Knock yourself out. Goodnight, Eric.”

“Goodnight, Stella.”

She could hear the sadness in his voice. Sometimes he was depressed about how his life had ended and the things he’d meant to do that would never happen. Probably finding his will again had made him a little mopey about the past. Seeing his old girlfriend hadn’t helped either.

“You know you did more in thirty-five years than most people do in eighty. I know there are lots of things you regret not being able to do, and I’m sorry for that. But you’re still a great man. Thanks for your help again tonight.”

Eric didn’t reply. Stella went to bed, leaving him upstairs with his stuff. Sometime during the night she heard music, an old song she remembered from when she was a child. She listened to the slow, sad verse and then went back to sleep.

Hush, hush, sweet Charlotte, I’ll love you till I die.

*

It was Friday morning. Thick frost covered everything, glistening in the sun like diamonds. Stella grabbed a Coke and a Pop-Tart, stuck Eric’s badge in her pocket, and went out to the Cherokee.

“Anything on that detonator?” she asked when she saw him beside her as she scraped the windshield.

“Not that I could find.” He blew hard on a side window and wrote his name in the frost. “The Internet is a wealth of information, though. Did you know you can clean rust stains with tomato juice?”

She grinned. “I had no idea.”

Despite the workout the fire brigade had the night before there was still practice and drills to go through. The birth of Banyin’s baby and their success rescuing their colleague made everyone slightly sassy as they came into the firehouse.

Stella was glad to see her volunteers appreciated in the newspapers and on TV. They worked hard and deserved the praise they got. They even deserved the back-slapping and high-fiving they gave one another as they came in for practice.

Walt Fenway came to the firehouse as they were getting on their gear. He congratulated them on their good work, but he also came with bad news.

“The police are holding Jake responsible for the accident last night. They say people heard him and Banyin arguing at Scooter’s. He was drinking too much too. He didn’t stop for the right of way and he was weaving. Chief Rogers says he wasn’t looking where he was going.”

Royce whistled between his teeth. “Tough break. Was he drunk?”

“Not drunk, I guess.” Walt shrugged. “Banyin and the baby went home from the hospital early this morning. Her mama picked her up and took her home to where she lives in Frog Pond.”

Petey shook her head. “That’s even worse news. I know they’ve been arguing a lot about Banyin going back to work at the library and starting back here. Jake doesn’t get her commitment.”

Petey rerouted the firehouse basket she’d sent to the hospital so it would go to Frog Pond. There wasn’t much more to say.

Stella reminded everyone that they were there to practice, not to gossip. “Let’s get out there. We have a show to put on tomorrow at Beau’s. We can’t sit around on our butts all day.”

Petey, Stella, and Tagger watched the new recruits get in some time with the hoses. Walt laughed at the part-time officers, Clyde and Nancy. It wasn’t easy getting a handle on how to control the high-pressure hoses.

Nancy, with her red hair going gray, laughed back. Stella liked the easy-going new recruit who had a love of reading and was always looking for the next cruise she and her husband could go on.

“Hey, Walt,” John yelled. “Why don’t you come up here and show them how it’s done?”

“Give me a gun, and I’ll shoot it,” Walt said. “That’s the only thing I know.”

“That’s what I thought,” JC fired back.

By the end of the drill, Hampton and Bradford were doing better with the hoses. Stella started them on carrying the sixty pounds of hose up the ladder to the second floor.

“What are we supposed to show off tomorrow, Chief?” Petey asked. “Hose practice?”

“I hope not.” Tagger grinned. “Maybe we could wax the trucks real pretty and people would admire them enough to give us some money for the fireboat.”

“Yeah,” Walt added. “How’s that coming, by the way, Stella?”

“I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“The chief has a date with Rufus tonight.” Tagger smiled and rolled his eyes. “Guess we’ll know what’s what when he gets all the good jobs.”

“Are there any
good
jobs?” Petey asked.

“Not from what I’ve seen,” Walt agreed. “But I think it’s good that the chief has some male companionship.”

Stella could tell Eric was enjoying the conversation. It was probably a lot like being with his fire brigade forty years ago, standing in the sun, watching the drills. She was glad to see him smile again after they’d found his will.

“The chief has plenty of male companionship,” Tagger said. “She lives with Eric. She doesn’t need anyone else.”

“I’m right here,” Stella reminded them.

“I don’t blame the chief for wanting to have dinner with Rufus.” Petey’s smile was dreamy. “I wish he were here right now. He could ask me out anytime.”

“Where is Rufus anyway?” John asked.

“He couldn’t make practice,” Petey said. “But he called in.”

“I have a good idea about tomorrow.” Stella changed the subject. “If we can find a practice car, we could let Hero and Sylvia rescue a few of you.”

“Light a car on fire with all those people standing around?” Petey asked. “Would that be safe?”

“I wasn’t thinking about saving someone from a fire,” Stella said. “We could practice an accident scenario, like rescuing Banyin last night. People will love watching the dogs.”

“Good idea,” Walt said. “I have a junk car you could use. Max Morrison over at the towing shop owes me a favor. I’ll have him tow it to Beau’s for the show.”

“It’s all settled then.” Stella blew her whistle and changed drills.

She wanted as many people involved with the pretend rescue as she could. She wasn’t worried about the older members of the group. They knew what to do. It might be best to put Clyde and Nancy—the newest members—inside the car to be rescued. She wasn’t worried about Rufus—he seemed to be a natural.

Stella explained to the group that she needed as many fire brigade members at the event as possible. “We could bring in some new recruits with this event and raise money for the fireboat and other equipment.” She explained her idea to show off their skills. “This is a good opportunity to raise awareness for everything we do.”