Chapter 6
Jasper
It felt like I’d just left this place, and here I was, ready for another shift.
For a small town, Maplewood was not sleepy.
Calls came in all day and night, every day of the week.
Most were minor, but they were frequent enough to keep us on the move.
The firehouse was a handsome stone building next to City Hall on the town green.
It was old, loud, and questionably maintained, but we made do.
I rubbed my eyes. I’d gotten up extra early to drive into town today to pick up coffee and a treat for Evie.
She had not looked particularly happy to see me when she’d opened the door, but between the cold brew and the croissant, she softened. Even let me hold Vincent for a few minutes while she took a shower. It wasn’t much, but it was progress.
As I stepped inside, I was greeted by the distinct and familiar smell of a fire station. Rubber and disinfectant, with a hint of exhaust. Since most of our time was spent cleaning, organizing, and maintaining our gear, the smell of the cleaner had seeped into the walls.
It was comforting and a bit nauseating all at once.
I plastered on a big smile, masking the stress weighing me down. My nervous system still hadn’t recovered from the events of the past few days. My entire world had changed, my life upended.
“It’s Daddy Jasper.” Martin slapped me on the back as I walked into the kitchen. “And late as usual.”
Frowning, I turned toward the large clock on the wall. Damn. I was one minute late, but everyone always gave me shit.
Magnus, our rookie, gave me a nod as he filled a mug with coffee. He’d earned my respect by helping me buy baby gear, and he’d done a damn good job putting the stroller together.
The kitchen was usually pretty quiet in the morning, but today, the adrenaline was palpable, like they’d just gotten back from a call.
I cleared my throat and stepped up to the coffee pot. “Busy night?”
Chris slid up beside me, reaching for the sugar. “Nah. Dead. Everything is weird now, you know.” He raised a bushy eyebrow.
My stomach sank. The murder. The thing the whole town was simultaneously talking about and not talking about.
I gave him a nod and headed for the table.
He, Martin, and Chief Ashburn had responded to the scene. Thankfully I had only witnessed the aftermath after getting Evie loaded into the ambulance.
“Still can’t believe you’re a dad,” he said, easing into the chair beside me. “Kid got all ten fingers and ten toes?”
Head bowed over my coffee, I nodded.
“I believe it?” Martin added. “I’m shocked it took this long for Lawrence to have an oopsie baby. You should probably check every other small town in Vermont, make sure he’s the only one.”
Rage bubbled up inside me, the sensation strange. I’d never let the ribbing the crew dished out bother me before. But this was different. I hated the idea of Evie being associated with all my past flings. Like she was just another girl. Because she was so much more.
A desire to protect Evie and Vincent flared inside me. They were family now.
“Should we take bets on when another one will turn up?” Magnus added eagerly.
Chris and Martin stopped and stared at him. “Fuck you, Rookie.”
I smirked. My crew could talk shit about me, but we all upheld certain lines. Letting the rookie join in was one of them. At least some things were still sacred.
“His name is Vincent.” I unlocked my phone screen and slid the device to the middle of the table.
All three of the guys leaned in.
“Cute baby.”
“Hope he gets his brains from his mom.”
Before I could protest, Chief Ashburn came out of her office, her favorite glittery pink coffee mug in hand.
“I heard the news,” she said. “Show me photos.”
The chief was tall with streaks of silver cutting through her dark braid.
In her late forties, she carried herself with the kind of authority that made even the loudest guy in the room shut the hell up.
I’d seen her drag a full-grown man out of a burning barn with a dislocated shoulder. Nothing rattled this woman.
We were midway through my Vincent slideshow when the alarm rang. In seconds, we were up and moving, going through the motions and procedures we’d practiced over and over again. Our team was small, and we were vastly different people, but when that alarm rang, we operated in perfect sync.
As we rattled down the narrow Maplewood streets, siren wailing, I checked my SCBA straps. Beside me, Magnus fumbled with his gear. Chris navigated the rig with precision while Chief communicated with dispatch.
“Chimney fire.”
Those two words instantly slowed my heart rate. After the Maple Fest incident, it was easy to assume the worst, but this was a common occurrence. A lot of folks in the area had wood stoves and fireplaces, and it was still chilly out.
“Damn chimneys,” Martin grumbled. “When will people learn they require proper maintenance?”
“Don’t complain,” Chris chastised. “After what we saw over the weekend? I’d gladly rescue kittens from trees every day for the next ten years.”
Magnus, always eager to get in on the gossip, leaned forward. “Did you hear the FBI is here? They’re interviewing people and sniffing around.”
My gut twisted. That was news to me. Looked like I needed to talk to Josh and Jenn. Aside from a quick visit from Nolan, we’d heard nothing. Which made sense. There was no way our family farm was involved in any of this.
I adjusted my helmet, tightening my jaw. All I wanted to do was hold Vincent and tune out the rest of the world. The idea that there was a murderer running around the town where my child slept had all my protective instincts flaring to life.
Chris turned down Pine Street and hit the brakes. The engine squealed to a stop at the curb, the headlights bouncing off the white clapboard house.
A steady stream of smoke pulsed from the chimney, but there were no sparks.
I inhaled a calming breath. Okay, this wouldn’t be too bad.
“Walters and Polanski,” Chief barked. “You’re on the roof. Check on the residents and ready the chimney kit. Lawrence and Rookie, you’re the attack team. Get the camera.”
When she released us, we hopped out of the truck.
I turned to Magnus, game face on. “Get your mask on and stay on my shoulder.” He was mine to babysit today.
While we geared up, Chief did a three-sixty eval of the property and Martin checked on the residents.
The Glovers were an elderly couple who’d lived here my entire life.
They had to be pushing ninety by now. Mr. Glover walked with a cane these days, but when I was a kid, he’d worked at the post office, and he’d always given us lollipops when we came in with my mom.
Their kids had moved out of town years ago, and though they sometimes struggled on their own, their neighbors watched out for them.
When Martin approached where they were huddled up on the sidewalk holding their tiny dog, asking if anyone was injured, they waved him off.
Once Chris had positioned the ladder and the chief gave us the okay to enter the structure, I headed for the front door with Magnus behind me.
The living room was smoky, but not the worst I’d seen.
As Magnus fumbled the thermal imaging camera, I snatched it from him and quickly swept the walls.
“No heat extension,” I relayed to the team.
Magnus dropped the salvage tarp in front of the hearth and spread it out as I continued to scan. With every moment that passed, I breathed a little easier. It looked like it was small and easily contained.
“Ready for the bomb drop?” Chris asked.
With a gloved hand on his shoulder, I pulled Magnus back from the tarp. The last thing I needed was him getting hit with debris.
“Focus, rookie.”
The chains rattled down the chimney, followed by the whoosh of the weighted brush that came after the drop of the chemical retardant.
Burning creosote clattered into the fireplace, hissing against the embers as the retardant did its job.
With practiced efficiency, I shoveled the debris onto the tarp, waiting for it to extinguish.
“You’re so calm,” Magnus remarked, shoveling right along with me.
“Done this many times,” I replied. “So many folks up here rely on wood to heat their houses, but burning it creates creosote, and when it builds up in chimneys, this is what happens.”
Once we’d gotten the debris taken care of and the embers had all been snuffed out, Martin and Chris came in with brooms, and the four of us got the mess cleaned up. The smell was strong, but that would dissipate over the next few days.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Chief asked the Glovers as we were packing up.
“We’ll be fine,” Mr. Glover insisted, keeping his head high. “We’ll bundle up and keep the windows open.”
I shuddered. Hell no. Temps still dropped into the thirties at night this time of year, and after Will’s death, I’d caution anyone against sleeping with their house wide open like that.
Chief glanced over at me, dipping her chin, and with a return nod, I jogged to the rig and picked up my phone.
After a few minutes and a quick text exchange, I wandered back over to where the Glovers were shivering together on the sidewalk.
“I’ve got the perfect place to set you three up,” I said, nodding at their little dog.
“The cabin on the farm is empty right now, but Josh wants to rent it out during tourist season. How about you stay a few nights, then let us know what you think? You’d be doing us a big favor, and you’d have a place to stay. ”
Mrs. Glover squeezed my hand. “You are such a good boy,” she said kindly. “And you look so much like your father.”
My heart clenched like it always did when people mentioned the resemblance.
“But,” she said, her eyes glassy, “we can’t afford that.”
“No charge.” I squeezed her hand in return.
“The farm is so busy this time of year. We haven’t had the opportunity to really assess whether the cabin is acceptable for guests.
And we rarely get homecooked meals with the way we’re always working.
We’d be grateful if you’d make your famous beef bourguignon in payment for your stay. How about that?”
Her face lit up. “It was my grandmother’s recipe. She was born in France, you know. Ooh, Carl. We’ll need to stop at the market today so I can pick up the ingredients.”
While we finished cleanup and inspected the rest of the house, I texted Josh, letting him know that the Glovers were on board and to expect them soon.
As we headed back to the station, smoke clinging to our skin and gear, the mood shifted, adrenaline waning and silly chatter taking over.
“Clean work,” Chief said proudly. “Lawrence, you ran that interior perfectly.”
“Thanks,” I replied, surveying the Green Mountains in the distance.
“Don’t stroke his ego too much,” Chris teased, his eyes on the road. “He’s already got a baby and a murder mystery to star in.”
While the rest of the crew laughed, I shot a dirty look at the back of his head. Asshole.
“Seriously,” Magnus said, his face full of twenty-year-old innocence. “Why would anyone kill a person in Maplewood? We’re America’s most charming small town. Nothing bad happens here.”
“Charm doesn’t mean safe,” Martin said. “Could have happened anywhere. Wasn’t it your farm Jasper?”
I grumbled unintelligibly in response. No way was I going to offer up details to anyone.
“Maple syrup, the FBI, a body, a secret baby.” Chris hooted. “Those Lawrences have all kinds of secrets.”
A growl rolled out of me. Dammit. My family had always been held in high esteem.
How the hell did we end up wrapped up in this bullshit?
And on top of that, Evie and Vincent were getting pulled into this harmful gossip.
And that’s where I drew the line. My skin itched, not from the smoke or the fine mist of chemical retardant, but from the rumors that were no doubt being mentioned in places other than this rig.
“Can it, Polanski,” the chief snapped before I could lay into Chris. “The Lawrences are not the Corleones of Vermont. This unfortunate situation is just that. It’s a tragedy, Will’s death, and not a topic to be chattering about.”
Lips pressed together, I gave her a nod of thanks.
“Our job is to counteract the shitty things that befall our town,” she reminded him. “To help and assist and serve. Don’t forget that.”
Chastened, Chris nodded, his focus never leaving the road ahead of us.
The cab had just fallen silent when Martin perked up, waving his phone in the air. “My brother-in-law will be out at the Glovers’ on Monday to do a full clean and repair the damage.”
Good. The best way to prevent these fires was annual cleaning and inspections of the old brick chimneys, but the upkeep could be expensive, and many people, especially elderly couples on fixed incomes like the Glovers, couldn’t afford it.
“We can set up the positive pressure fans tomorrow,” he added.
“Did you really offer them a place to stay?” Magnus asked, brows pinched in confusion.
“We serve the public,” Chief said, turning in her seat to look at him. “Putting out the fire is only a small part of that service. Up here, we have to rely on each other.”
“So Jasper finds them a place to stay, and Chris’s brother-in-law fixes the chimneys?”
We’d had several people stay in the cabin over the past few months.
Josh, who could not exist without a project to keep him busy during his downtime, had renovated it last year.
At the time, Jess had planned to move back, bringing her two daughters with her.
Instead, she reconnected with her college sweetheart and stayed in New York.
Rather than use the cabin, they’d decided to convert one of the old barns into a summer house for their family.
Josh had mentioned renting the place out several times, but he’d yet to get around to it. So it was the perfect solution for the Glovers.
“In this case, yes.” Chief nodded. “The Glovers are elderly, and they have no family left in town. It’s the least we can do.”
As we rumbled back to the firehouse, Mrs. Glover’s comment replayed in my head. She’d said that I looked like my dad.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and tried to picture his face.
It had been close to fifteen years since we lost him.
The ache to see him, to talk to him and introduce him to Vincent, hit me hard.
He’d know what to say to encourage me, to make me feel capable.
He’d make me believe that I had a shot in hell of living up to him.
That I could be the kind of father he was.
I opened my eyes and studied the road ahead. The only way to honor my father was to keep showing up. For this town, for my family, and for Vincent.