Hero's Journey (7 page)

“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 down 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.”

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 father'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?”

Stella sat back on the Harley seat, balancing the bike with her legs as she talked. “Not much better. Vivian is missing a ring but she thinks one of the maids took it. Ben offered to post a reward for Hero.”

“Great. Did you tell him to make it twenty-five thousand to get everyone's attention?”

“No. I told him we'd take care of it.”

“You are beyond a doubt the worst heiress I've ever known.” He laughed. “What good is money if you don't spend it in the right places?”

That made Stella angry. The Irish blood in her seemed to have that effect too. “I thought you hated the Carsons because they had money?”

“No. I hate them because of what they
do
with the money.”

Stella turned off her phone, put it in her pocket, and started the Harley. She was in no mood for one of his Carson lectures.

She was back up at the cabin in no time. The porch light was on and the front door opened as she approached.

“Well? Any luck?” Eric asked as soon as she stepped foot in the kitchen.

“No. And John can't find Patrick.” She sank down on the brown leather chair. “I guess you were right about him.”

“Believe me, it gives me no pleasure in this case. He could leave with Hero. We'd never see him again.”

“I've thought of that. I don't know what else to do. I guess we'll keep looking. I'm tired, and tomorrow is going to be a long day sifting through what's left of the Loflin house. I'm going to bed.”

Eric sniffed. “You smell like wine. Were you drinking before you came back?”

“Yes. Ben plied me with gallons of wine and tried to convince me to take over his vast pepper empire.” She yawned. “Good night, Eric.”

• • •

Stella was up early the next morning. She was in a better mood too. Good thing because Eric had been on the Internet all night looking up articles about dogs being kidnapped and how they were found.

He told her all about it as she spread peanut butter on toast and popped open a Coke.

“Some dogs have come back to their owners ten years after they were kidnapped,” he said. “Hero could still come back on his own.”

“I guess we have to assume whoever has him isn't giving him the opportunity.” She ate her breakfast standing by the counter in the kitchen.

“Whoever?” Eric looked up at her. “You mean Patrick Dorner. I think we've got enough evidence to convict him. Call Walt. Ask him what he thinks.”

Stella brushed crumbs from her hands and finished her Coke. “I don't have time for that today. The sooner I get into the debris, the sooner I'll be done and the Loflins can have their lives back. I can't do anything about Hero today. We'll have to hope the police catch the person responsible and bring him home. That's the best I can do.”

She gathered together latex gloves, flashlight batteries, and face masks for the group who wanted to go with her to the house. She knew there were some supplies at the firehouse but she wasn't sure if they were enough. She wanted all the volunteers to be prepared.

“I guess I'll stay here.” Eric shoved his fist into the side of the cabin. “I never felt like a prisoner until you came. Now all I can think about is being able to help out. I thought my days of doing that, or even thinking about it, were over.”

Stella had put one hand on the counter to balance herself. Eric's wall punch—even though his fist went through the timbers—was enough to make her feel as though there was a minor earthquake.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you involved.”

“At least before you found what was left of me I could go down to the firehouse. This way, it's me, the TV, and the Internet. It's not much of an afterlife. I want to help look for Hero. I want to catch Patrick Dorner. I want to ride to an emergency call again in the engine.”

She hated his anguish. She went to where he was sitting at the table by the laptop and tried to hug him. It wasn't her thing but everyone else seemed to like it.

She knew he could be as solid as he chose to be. He'd been solid enough a few times to pick her up. Now when she tried to put her arms around him, there was nothing there. It was like hugging smoke that had a static-electricity zing to it.

“Never mind. I don't want your pity. Go to your investigation. I'll be fine.”

He turned away from her. She sighed and said good-bye.

Stella went outside and put on her helmet. She'd have to pick up the Cherokee at the firehouse. A few volunteers could ride with her. Others would have to take their own vehicles. She didn't want to take the engine out. It was expensive enough to keep it going when they needed it for emergency calls.

She knew she'd never feel the same again about how the fire department was run, even though it wouldn't be her place to worry about it anymore. As a firefighter, she never thought about expenses or reports that Chief Henry had to write. She'd be a different person after this.

Stella thought about what life was going to be like when she finally left Sweet Pepper—and Eric—behind. That was going to be different too, and not necessarily in a good way.

Before she could get on the Harley, she saw a vehicle coming up Firehouse Road toward the cabin. It was Patrick Dorner's old pickup.