Home Fires (29 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Irene Paterka

BOOK: Home Fires
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Throngs of tourists wound uneven paths around them as their sidewalk stare-down continued. “So, is this where we leave things?” he finally said. “Stuck in limbo, waiting to see who’s going to break down and
I’m sorry
first?”

She was close enough to notice the dark circles etched beneath his eyes. Was he even sleeping at night? A deep sadness tugged at her heartstrings, and for one fleeting moment, the overwhelming urge to reach out and take his hand flooded through her. Yes, Mike was aggravating, vexing, and annoying—but he was also dedicated and brave. And from the weary look on his face, his vigilant efforts continued. How long could he expect to keep up this pace?

Mike exhaled in a sharp breath. “You are one stubborn lady.”

The blood rushed to her throat and colored her cheeks. If she was stubborn, it was only because he’d given her reason. Perhaps he should be the one to do the apologizing. He was the one who’d hung up on her.

“You think I’m stubborn? Well, Mr. Gallagher, that is my prerogative. Enjoy your dinner. I hope you choke on a fish bone.” With a curt nod, Rose whirled around and hopped on Irene’s bicycle, then sped off empty-handed toward home.

 

 

First one morning, then another, dragging into hot afternoons, melting into nightfall. Rose gave the silent telephone a furtive glance every time she passed. The temperature in her heart matched the hot, heavy air hovering over James Bay. And still the phone didn’t ring.

What was she waiting for? Mike wouldn’t call. He wasn’t about to apologize. He had no idea what she’d done, that she’d discovered his file on the Judge.

This mess between them was all her fault. She’d known all along he’d only been teasing about the fish, but she was the one, bicycle pedals wildly spinning, who’d fled from the truth. She was the one who should pick up that phone and say she was sorry.

If she didn’t do it, there would be no
them
.

The only thing between them was her foolish, stubborn pride. She hated that part of herself, the cool, calculating attorney who’d stood outside Chuck’s Tavern peering down her nose at Mike. Why did she always insist on having the upper hand? Her parents hadn’t raised her to be like this. She was so quick on the uptake when it came to analyzing legal briefs, but slow to internalize those undeniable truths concerning human nature. Truths like compassion, understanding, forgiveness… and love. Yes, love. There was no use in trying to deny it any longer. These few weeks at home had changed her. She felt softer, more vulnerable and exposed than she ever had in her life. Including her life with Jeff. One man had made the difference.

Michael John Gallagher had made the difference.

Call him
, her heart urged, yet a nagging thought kept her hand from reaching for the phone. Sooner or later, the fire marshal would have enough evidence to make an arrest. Was she prepared to hear her old friend the talk of grocery store gossip? Was she ready to hear his reputation bandied about town?

Was she ready to visit the Judge in jail?

No.

She had no doubt they would figure out some way to make things easy on him. His stature in the community, his reputation from years on the bench would be factored in. But when all was said and done, even that wouldn’t be enough to save the Judge. Evidence would convict him. Credible evidence, provided by Mike, would seal the Judge’s fate.

And she wasn’t ready to hear Mike speak those incriminating words. No matter how much her heart might long for the welcome sound of that fireman’s voice, she wasn’t ready to hear him label the Judge an arsonist. Not yet.

If only things could have been different. If only Mike hadn’t insisted on carrying on his investigation. If only they had met in another place and time.
If only.
Two little words, whispering a painful truth inside her heart as the phone stayed silent and the days passed on, first one, then another, and then another two.

 

 

“For heaven’s sake, honey, come away from that window and sit down. You’re making your mama nervous.”

Rose glanced over her shoulder at her mother and Lil. “Mom, am I making you nervous?”

“Not in the least.” Irene studied her playing cards, then flashed a wide smile and laid down her cards to show a winning hand. “Ha! Look at that, Lil. You owe me a quarter. Pay up.”

Lil slapped her cards on the table. “Put it on my tab. I’m tired of playing cards, anyway.” Her eyes glittered as she turned her attention back to Rose. “Are you watching for someone special? We haven’t seen much of your fireman lately. Where’s he been keeping himself?”

“I guess he must be busy.” Rose swallowed down the guilt. She’d been raised not to tell a lie.

“Too busy to make time for you?” Lil snorted. “And you never told us what he had to say about our letter to the
Journal
.”

“I’ll ask next time I see him.” Rose turned back toward the window, hiding the embarrassed flush from her mother and Lil. Those two were masters in the art of dissecting the spoken word. She wasn’t about to provide them with new material for speculating about her relationship—or lack thereof—with Mike… especially since she had spent the past few days wondering about that very thing herself.

The sun porch’s angle off the living room provided a convenient view across the narrow expanse of shady lawn to the Judge’s house. She’d been watching the house for some time now, but so far only Tommy Gilbert had provided any entertainment. He was on his knees weeding and thinning the flowerbeds bordering their sun porch. Across the lawn, the Judge’s drapes were drawn and his car was in the driveway. His Honor was home earlier than usual on a weekday afternoon, but for how long? And what was he doing inside that house?

Snatches of conversation drifted from the card table behind her.

“Did you remember to tell Cecilia Rose who I saw at the grocery store?”

“No, I forgot. You tell her, Lil.”

Would the gossip never cease? Rose pressed her head against the window as cards were shuffled and the snap of a new hand dealt.

“Well, it was Danny Spencer.” Lil’s voice held more than a hint of excitement. “He had quite a bit to say about that little letter your mother and I wrote to the
Journal
. According to Danny, we have the whole town talking.”

Despite her resolve not to listen, her ears prickled at Lil’s news. If the town was abuzz over Mike and the arson investigation, wait till the gossips discovered whom he’d pegged as the number one suspect. That would certainly serve as kindling to set the rumor mill ablaze.

She forced her attention away from the Judge’s house. “What are people saying? Are they for or against him?”

“Depends on who’s doing the talking. One minute they agree with you, and the next thing you know, they’re talking to their neighbor on the town council, insisting Mike be fired.”

“That’s ridiculous.” How could they fire Mike? It would take a vote, most likely from the council members. But why fire him? He’d only been doing his job.

A fleeting thought flashed to mind. She’d been upset with him these past few days for the very same reason. Mike was doing a good job.
Too
good a job.

A flash of movement under the open window caught her eye, but it was only Tommy, still in the dirt on his hands and knees, weeding Irene’s prized flowerbeds. She glanced back at the Judge’s house in time to see the front door open and His Honor himself appear with a watering can in hand. Rose held her breath as she watched him move about the spacious porch, drenching thirsty geraniums and petunias spilling out of wooden planters lining the porch railing.

“Looks like the Judge is out and about,” she murmured.

“Maybe we should invite him over. Lean out the window and call to him, honey.”

“He’s busy.” Rose kept a wary eye on him as he sauntered around the porch with the watering can.

“Poor man. With all he’s been through, it’s a wonder he’s not over here every night demanding a stiff drink. I don’t know how he manages to stay so calm after losing that money.”

“What money?” Rose whirled away from the window. “What are you talking about, Lil?”

“Why, the money from the condo fire, of course.” Her auburn curls bobbed in a tight nod. “He had lots of money tied up in those buildings. I’m sure it set him back a pretty penny. He must be hurting for money.”

“How do you know that?” Rose’s eyes narrowed. Until now, no specific sums had been mentioned. How much money had the Judge lost when those buildings went up in flames?

“Figure it out yourself, honey,” Lil replied over a newly dealt hand of cards. “The proof is sitting right there in his driveway. This is the first year I can remember the Judge hasn’t bought himself a brand-new car.”

Rose’s gaze drifted back through the window to the Judge’s sleek sedan parked near his house. Last year’s model.

“That’s right, he didn’t buy a new car. That is odd, come to think of it.” Irene’s voice carried a hint of wonder.

“It wouldn’t surprise me to hear he was flat-out broke,” Lil said. “Danny Spencer told me Dorothy Harvey said the Judge is only waiting for the insurance to pay out—”

“How do we know for sure he’s having money problems?” Rose demanded. “Did he tell you he was broke?”

Lil’s eyes widened as she sat back in her chair. “Why, honey, please don’t be upset. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“People aren’t talking to be mean,” Irene added.

“You know how things are,” Lil said. “People like to talk.”

“Nosy busybodies, that’s what they are,” Rose said in a tight voice. Exactly why she’d left town in the first place. “Cruel and malicious. Why can’t people mind their own business? Everyone is too concerned with what everybody else is up to.” She felt her temper rising, along with her voice. “What’s the matter with people in this town?”

Irene’s eyebrows lifted. “You might want to remember who you’re talking to, sweetheart. Lil and I are part of this town. And so are you.”

“I don’t live here anymore,” Rose said and added under her breath, “thank God.”

“People talk, we all talk,” Lil added. “It doesn’t mean a thing.”

“We all have opinions, and we like to give them.” The hint of a smile flitted across Irene’s face. “Maybe it’s a bad habit we pick up during those long dreary winters. There’s not much left to do but talk when the snow banks outside are piled up six feet high.”

“There’s no snow today,” Rose shot back. “But that hasn’t stopped everyone in town from talking about the Judge.”

“He’ll make out fine,” Lil said.

“He’s been through hard spots before.” Irene’s voice was steady and calm. “And if it’s true he’s having money problems, then the Judge is in the right place. He’s where he belongs, right here at home, surrounded by people who love him. Things might not be going well for him now, but you mark my words: The Judge will manage. Something will happen. Someone will help him out and he’ll have some money in his pocket again. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if we see a new car in his driveway soon.” She sat back in her chair with a thoughtful gaze at her leg, propped up on cushions. “I think this knee is finally on the mend. Maybe it’s time I put the pain pills away.” She glanced at Rose with a steady smile. “Why don’t you fix us up a pitcher of martinis? It’s nearly five o’clock and I’ve had enough iced tea this summer to float me all the way to China.”

Rose grimaced at her mother’s words. Perhaps they could all use a good stiff drink. Alcohol wouldn’t heal, but it might dull the anger and frustration simmering inside her heart. For now, it seemed she and Mike were the only ones who knew about the Judge’s gambling habits.

“Is the Judge still out there? Call him, honey, and tell him we’re stirring up a pitcher.”

Rose glanced out the window to an empty vista. Tommy Gilbert was gone, finished with his weeding. And the house next door sat silent and still, with the front porch—and driveway—empty.

“His car is gone.” Rose swallowed down a frustrated sigh. All that time spent watching, for nothing.

“Funny, him not coming around more often,” Irene said. “It’s not like the Judge to miss martini time.”

Where had he disappeared to? Rose stared through the window in empty disbelief. No matter how much she wished things were different, it wasn’t meant to be. No amount of watching would produce that car or the Judge himself. The man was beyond her control.

The shrill ring of the telephone echoed from the hallway. “You take care of the phone, honey,” Lil said, “and I’ll take care of the martinis.”

Rose tried to force out the chilling chant that pounded in her ears as she hurried down the hallway. The Judge had disappeared again. What should she do if the town’s fire whistle blew an alarm in the next hour or so?

“Rose? Is that you?”

“Andy, hi.” Her alarm from ratcheted from high to extreme. When was the last time she’d thought about Andy, let alone given his job offer serious consideration? He deserved better than this.

“The under deputy was in my office this afternoon. I’m getting pressure for a decision.” Andy’s voice was no-nonsense. “The clock is done ticking, Rose. It’s yes or no time. We’re buried with work and I need your answer.”

A loud rapping on the kitchen door echoed in the hallway.

“Andy, there’s someone at the door. Can I call you back?”

“You can’t keep putting me off, Rose. This job offer won’t be open forever.”

The warning signal in his voice couldn’t be ignored. “Soon, Andy. I’ll call you back soon.”

“No later than tomorrow.” His words were firm. “I need an answer by tomorrow, Rose.”

Andy’s demand had her backed into a corner, and she knew it. “I promise I’ll call in the morning.”

Familiar male voices rumbled on the back porch as she hurried into the kitchen. Her hand shook as she undid the metal latch and pushed open the screen.

“Hey, Cecil, look who I bumped into out in your driveway,” Tommy said.

Rose and Mike warily eyed each other. Was it merely her imagination wishing and wanting it to be true, or did his eyes really hold a sign of peace?

Tommy beamed at Mike. “Thanks again for helping me load the lawnmower.”

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