Chapter 10
Late last night, I got a text from Goldie, asking if I would come over to her place for dinner tonight after my shift.
And the stupid little pitter-patter of excitement that lit up in my chest would have disgusted me in any other situation. But not this one, not with Goldie.
I had butterflies. Something I hadn’t had in years, maybe ever, really. Yet as I watched the clock for the rest of my shift, I felt the excitement build in my chest. Only six hours left.
Before I could go spend the evening with Goldie in her cute little sunshine bubble, there was something else I needed to get to the bottom of though.
The flood at Honey & Hearth.
It hadn’t sat right with me since I cut the water to the pipes the night they malfunctioned. And then, when I was helping repair the bakery, I opened up the ceiling panel where the pipes had malfunctioned first.
The sprinkler line wasn’t just old. It was tampered with. The damage was subtle, intentional, but no fire suppression line would spontaneously burst like that unless someone helped it.
So, I called in a man who studied scenes like hers for a living. He was also a really good friend.
Fire Investigator Elliot Hayes.
He pulled into the firehouse lot in his flashy red pickup with his logo on the side, looking like he stepped out of a department calendar—clean uniform, calm face, and a thermos in hand.
I met him in the empty bay where we kept a large table and chairs for meetings like this one.
“You don’t call unless you’re onto something,” he said, dropping into a chair as I unrolled blueprints of Honey & Hearth that I had borrowed from the town zoning office.
They were the ones that were submitted when Goldie opened the bakery a year ago and had undergone new construction to upgrade the plumbing and electrical in the old historic building.
“But this seems like it’s going to make me late for dinner. ”
I grinned, “You live for this excitement.”
“I tolerate it,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows, studying the prints.
I pointed to the break in the line, then handed him a bag with the blown cap and piece of pipe I’d salvaged.
He squinted, turning the metal over in his hand, and then let out a long breath through his nose. “Someone weakened it.”
I nodded. “Scored it from the inside.” I pointed out the tool marks inside the pipe where the cap attached to it. “Delayed fail, meant to look like age.”
He whistled under his breath. “That’s not some bored teenager. That’s professional.”
“Which is why I’m talking to you,” I said. “Because now it’s not just water damage. It’s criminal.”
Elliot stared at the pipe again, fingers drumming. “These were replaced when she renovated the building. So, we need to find the contractors and go from there.”
“I’ll ask her who did the work, but I think there’s something deeper here. Something darker.”
He glanced over at me speculatively, “You think this is part of something bigger?”
“I didn’t like the way it felt from the jump,” I replied. “And the longer I sit on it, the more I start thinking about those developers that bought up all of Main Street in Duncan Mills a few years ago.”
Duncan Mills was a town about thirty minutes away that felt a lot like Cedar Bluff. It was old family businesses, small-town honor systems, and easy-going camaraderie. Or at least it had been until corporate developers bought up the entire main drag.
“What exactly are you alleging here, Dalton?” He asked, leaning back in his chair with those wise eyes.
“That town had a small-town family name above every business five years ago. And now there are chain restaurants with drive-thru lanes and shopping centers on every corner. I think someone might be trying to sabotage the businesses here and do the same thing with Cedar Bluff.”
“And how does one jump from one flooded bakery to a conspiracy that big, that fast?” He asked. He wasn’t being rude, Eli never was, but he was smart. He wanted me to prove it to him, to defend my case. If I couldn’t defend it to him, then I would have no business bringing it up to anyone else.
“Maybe the bakery was just the first part of the plan,” I shrugged.
“I don’t know, but my gut tells me that this wasn’t a coincidence.
And the correlations are too damn close.
Duncan Mills had weird accidents that happened so quickly that the townspeople joked that the town was cursed.
The small businesses couldn’t rebuild, they didn’t have the capital in today’s world to start over, not when those shops had been in families for generations.
And I think if we sit back and do nothing, we’re going to see more of that happening around here. ”
Before he could even reply, both of our radios crackled to life as the alarm throughout the station rang.
Structure Fire. Miller’s Hardware. Detached barn.
“Son of a bitch,” Elliot muttered, already on his feet as I jogged away with a pointed look.
I didn’t want to be right, I didn’t want to see the cute little town I now called home fall victim to the same scheme as Duncan Mills, but as I stomped into my fire boots and fastened my turnout gear on, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
This wasn’t a coincidence.
My crew loaded up in our engines, tearing from the firehouse, and as soon as we turned toward town, the black smoke header was visible in the crystal-clear spring air. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but the black smoke curled toward the sun like black lace.
We worked on autopilot, like a well-oiled machine, to break down the fire in the storage barn in the stockyard behind the hardware store. All of their lumber was stored there, and their lumber was their biggest source of revenue.
We were able to keep the fire contained in the main barn before it could spread to the other outbuildings behind the main store. It was a total loss, but it could have been far worse if the rest of the property had gone up in flames.
“Secondary structure,” Elliot said, coming to my side with his helmet and fire pants on, watching as the shell of a building sat with charred posts and beams the only thing left standing. “Looks electrical on the surface.”
Except I’d bet my last paycheck that it wasn’t.
I watched on as the Sergeant on scene, directing my crew to rake out the hot coals and extinguish any hot spots left when I found a familiar pair of eyes in the crowd.
Tanner stood in front of his cruiser, frowning at the rubble before he started my way.
“Something isn’t right here, Rhea.” He said, crossing his arms over his wide chest.
I nodded, “Goldie’s wasn’t an accident. This one probably wasn’t either.”
“How do you know?” He asked, and it felt like he was asking me as an equal, not like I was supposed to prove it to him.
“I found a pipe in her sprinkler system that had been tampered with. Tampered with when she had all the plumbing and electrical replaced just last year when she renovated the building.”
He mulled that over, staring off at the dying embers of the fire.
I tried to look away from him, but there was something magnetizing about him, all tall and broad, standing in the late afternoon sun wearing his black police uniform and determination on his face.
Maybe it was because that determination was caused by a common interest. Goldie.
Or maybe it was something else entirely.
“Someone’s targeting small businesses. Driving good folks out of town.” He said finally, looking down at me.
“Just like at Duncan Mills.” I sighed, “But I can’t prove it yet.”
Tanner nodded, watching Eli as he walked through the rubble, picking up pieces of wood and examining them, marking things down on his clipboard and taking pictures.
“Then let’s find out who’s playing the cards.”
I scoffed good-heartedly, “Who invited you along for the ride?” I glared at him, and he barely glanced back down at me. “I’ve got this all under control. And I work better alone.”
Turning to face me, with his arms still crossed, he raised one eyebrow at me with that weirdly authoritative air he had about himself.
The one I hated.
Also, the one I melted for when he wasn’t looking.
“Those things may be true,” He stated plainly, “But this affects more than just you now, it affects Goldie. Which affects me. And you might have worked better alone in the past, but I think we can both agree that there's a new dynamic here where she’s concerned, and this solo thing you’re used to just became a team effort.
Either get on board with it or walk off. ”
I squinted up at him. “Are we talking about the flooding anymore?”
He rolled his eyes and huffed, looking back out over the fire scene. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
I laughed, a noise that sounded really fucking merry actually, instead of condescending like I planned. “Yeah, I know. Get used to it.”
He started to reply, something no doubt snarky and sassy for his golden boy personality, something barbed that would rile me up and excite me, but he paused as a powder blue little punch bug pulled up across the street.
There was only one person in the entire world who drove such an impractical car for the winters we got in Cedar Bluff.
“Goldie.” I whispered, longing for her in a way I didn’t even realize until she materialized.
She got out of her car wearing a pink blouse and tight blue jeans with a white frilly apron still tied around her waist, and God, she looked so freaking angelic and perfect.
She paused when she saw us standing together and threw a cute little wave before she went to the back of her car and popped the trunk.
Carrying an armful of boxes over to where the Miller family stood at the back of their store, watching their livelihood reduced to rubble, she brought sunshine to the scene.
She smiled at the family, hugged their grandkids and patted the men on their shoulders as she handed out coffee like it was holy water paired with delicious smelling fresh baked muffins.
Each time she glanced over to where we stood, something softened behind her eyes, like watching us together gave her something she didn’t even know she needed until she saw it.
Later, when the site was cleared, and the barn was safe from rekindling into anymore fire, I found her leaning against the back of one of our rigs, biting into a muffin I knew she’d swear was just too ugly to give away.
“You look good in soot,” She teased as I took my helmet off and shed my heavy jacket. I hung it on a nozzle and sat down next to her on the bumper.
“How do you always show up and give everyone exactly what they need without even trying?” I asked, skipping over the small talk and getting right to the importance of her role in Cedar Bluff. And my life.
Even though it was new, it was becoming hard to ignore.
“I just brought sugar and caffeine,” she shrugged, dusting her hands off when she ate the last bite, like she was trying to brush off the notion of her being anything more than a delivery person.
“Wrong,” I nudged her shoulder with mine and then tilted her chin, so she had no choice but to look over at me as she tried to deflect.
“You bring sunshine and hope. Warmth and compassion. You bring you.” I took a deep breath in as she swallowed, eyes wide.
“And for me, that’s exactly what I needed right now. ”
She smiled, leaning into my touch as she threaded her fingers through mine on my hand resting between us, pulling it onto her lap to squeeze.
“Do we have to reschedule our dinner?” She asked quietly, as if she were ashamed of worrying about herself at the moment, given what the Miller family was facing.
“I completely understand if we do, I just want to know before I run home and start cooking.”
I kissed her.
I couldn’t help it or resist her pure goodness any longer. I didn’t even care who was around to see as I laid my lips on her gently, or when she leaned in to deepen it. Again, it was quick and sweet, but the heat behind it promised something more for later.
“I wouldn’t miss our date for anything. My ass will be on your doorstep right on time.”
“Good,” She sighed deeply and kissed me again, and then pulled back. “Because I want more of that.” I groaned as she stood up with a chuckle. “Go save the world, Hotshot,” She sassed.
“Whatever you say, Marigold.”