Chapter 4
One Month Later
At the Hideaway, Celeste was doing a final walkthrough before the next guest check-in when she heard the doorbell.
Early arrivals didn’t throw her off any more, especially as they inched toward their new business model.
Within a few months, the transition would be complete and guests would book the entire Hideaway for week-long stays.
The sisters would take turns as the lead contact with each booking, ensuring that any upsell excursions came together without any issues.
Celeste closed her eyes, took a breath, and then put on her warmest, most welcoming smile. She felt the expression fade in a hurry when she glanced at the security app on her phone and saw the fire chief on the porch. He’d stepped back from the door, leaning against the railing while he waited.
Another deep breath.
Better to get this chat over and done before the guests arrived. She opened the door. “Chief Miller.” She swallowed. “Hello.”
“Call me Evan,” he suggested.
Celeste wasn’t sure she could do that. She wasn’t sure she could say much of anything. He shouldn’t scare her—she hadn’t done anything wrong. Still, her palms went damp. Not a great feeling ever, but worse in her cast.
“When do you get that off?” He dipped his chin toward the cast.
“Next week. Maybe ten days.” She wrinkled her nose, recalling the doctor’s comment about her age at the last checkup.
Apparently, a woman in her mid-thirties required more time to rebuild bones.
“I’m more than ready.” When he didn’t reply, she rambled on.
“You don’t look like you’re here to arrest me. ”
“No.” He smiled. “If I were, Chief Caldwell would be here too.” He pointed to the logo on his shirt. “Firefighter, not a cop.”
He wasn’t just a firefighter. He was the top firefighter on the island. The things he must’ve seen through his career would probably keep her up at night. She suppressed a shiver. “Okay.”
He shifted his weight and she caught herself admiring the way he moved. A man in control of himself, confident in his surroundings. A hero looking for the next moment to leap into action. The world needed people like him.
“I wanted to swing by personally.” He glanced around. “Do you have a minute to walk around back with me?”
“Sure. Um.” She curled her bare toes on the sun-warmed welcome mat. “Guests are coming in today and I just cleaned.” That sounded prim—bordering on rude. Couldn’t be helped. “My outside shoes are near the back door.”
“Fine by me.” He backed down the stairs.
Darting through the house, she slipped into her sneakers and stepped outside as he came through the courtyard.
Together they studied the area she so desperately wanted to rebuild.
All the damage had been cleared away, including the pergola and her dad’s prized grill.
The siding had been repaired and the paint blended so perfectly no one would ever know there had been a problem.
Nash Billings had even installed planters that could be easily relocated if they did redo the outdoor kitchen.
Filled with colorful flowers and greenery, the extra patio space felt welcoming and complete.
“The insurance company paid,” she said. “We’re just debating how best to rebuild.” Or if they should. The house had been targeted once, she didn’t exactly want to leave things open for another attempt.
“We confirmed arson,” Miller began. “And no one in the department believes you set the fire.”
“Arson and sabotage since the culprit stole the fire extinguisher,” she mused.
Miller’s mouth twitched into a quick frown. “Caldwell will add that to the list of charges, if he hasn’t already. Unfortunately, we don’t have a suspect.”
“What does that mean for us?” she asked.
“Not much,” he admitted. “We have thorough notes in the case file about how the fire was set—accelerants and devices. That all goes into a national database.”
“Good?”
“It is,” he confirmed. “If the arsonist uses these tactics again, it will be easier for us to catch them.”
“Meaning the person responsible for the incident here isn’t in the database yet?” she asked.
He shook his head, the sunlight glinting off his hair. “Not so far.”
She shivered, hugging herself. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“I wouldn’t expect it to.” His voice was hard, but the soft sympathy in her his eyes surprised her.
“We haven’t found any other fires set using this particular accelerant and ignition in South Carolina. They went back a few years, just to be sure.”
“No offense, but if this is a pep talk, it’s failing. Miserably.”
He winced. “Sorry.”
“Thanks.” She quickly added, “I don’t expect you to manage my fears. That’s my job.”
“Celeste—”
She flicked her hand, waving off his concern. “Basically, you’re saying no one knows why the house was targeted.”
“That sums it up.” His gaze scanned the area again. “You’ve got a great spot out here, but it’s isolated,” he observed. “I’m glad to see the new cameras. That alone should be an effective deterrent.”
Should be . She couldn’t live her life on “shoulds”.
“I feel better having them too.” Especially with a successful arsonist wandering about.
“You might want to keep up the extra protection. At least for a little while,” he suggested.
“We’re evaluating week to week.” Her sisters, backed by Reed, had made the same suggestion. “We’d all feel better if we understood why they set fire to our place or if we had confirmation the danger was over.”
“Most likely we’ll eventually learn it was a prank,” Miller said. “I know that’s not much help now, but as a first-responder, I’m pleased there haven’t been any similar fires nearby.”
“Well of course you are. I wouldn’t want that either.”
She’d been edgy since the incident. The island was small enough that, for a time, she kept seeing threats where once she saw only kind neighbors and happy tourists.
Fortunately, Reed and her sisters had helped her through the worst of those days, assuring her she was having a natural reaction to an unpleasant circumstance.
The combined support, including this visit from Chief Miller today, reminded her why she was so set on building a business here on Brookwell Island and creating a life she could thrive in.
“Since you’re here…” She took a few steps toward the planter box nearest the house.
“Nash did me a favor.” Dropping to one knee, she pressed one end of the bottom slat and it fell open to reveal a fire extinguisher.
“This gives me some extra peace of mind. If we do rebuild the outdoor kitchen, I’ll have one fire extinguisher visible, and a backup hidden. Just in case.”
She leaned back and peered up to find Brookwell’s fire chief grinning like a little kid. His expression made her smile.
“That’s incredible.” He pulled out his phone and took a picture. “Smart thinking.”
She snapped the cover back in place and stood, dusting off her hands. “Thanks for bringing me up to speed.” Though it wasn’t the complete closure she’d hoped for, she was glad for the visit. “And thanks for your service here on the island.”
“Well, um.” His ears reddened. “That’s the job.” With a half smile, he glanced around the backyard. “Take care out here.”
“Every day.”
He looked as if he’d say more, but changed his mind. With a nod, he started back down the drive.
“Be safe, Chief Miller.”
He turned on his heel and smiled. “Evan.”
“Right.” She gave a soft laugh. “Be safe out there, Evan.”
The End…for now
Extend your stay on Brookwell Island with IN THE SPOTLIGHT :
On a blustery winter evening, the Pelican Pub is packed to capacity. Nina Billings is eager to hear which bands are invited to the annual summer music festival, but her happy evening is turned upside down when a special honor turns into a bar fight.