A man didn’t have to look hard to see the potential for danger in the ancient wood structure. And danger was what he specialized in preventing. Strangely uncomfortable, Ryan looked away. Thus far he’d only made one friend in this town, and even that friendship seemed rife with potential problems. Not a good sign.
“Leah—she’s Berry’s daughter—runs the place now that he’s...” Murdoch’s voice trailed off. “Anyhow, she’s just about as hardheaded as it gets, but you probably know that having just spent some time with her.” When Ryan ignored the statement, the older man continued. “Can’t figure why she stays when she had that good job with the historical folks in Galveston.” Murdoch looked at him as if he might have the answer.
Ryan thought back on her reluctance to elaborate on her reasons yesterday. “People do things for all sorts of reasons,” he said. “But not everybody likes to talk about them.”
Murdoch’s harrumph told Ryan how the mayor felt on the topic. After a minute, he leaned back against his seat and toyed with the brim of his cap. He seemed lost in thought. Then, quick as that, he reached to turn the key in the ignition.
As he did, he fixed his attention on Ryan. “I’m no expert but this place probably ought to get a look-over when you start your inspections.”
Ryan shifted position. Whatever ax Jack Murdoch had to grind against the owners of this restaurant, he wanted no part in it. And not because he’d come to know Leah Berry, even slightly. But once again, he found himself thinking of the job he’d been hired to do.
Thus, he answered carefully but firmly. “I figured to start with the schools then the hospital and nursing home since they’re of greater public importance.”
The mayor gave him a curt nod. “Makes sense. But when you do get around to Pop’s, don’t let that pretty redhead distract you from your job. If there are fire code violations, it’s your duty to report them and see they’re corrected.”
“Sir, with all due respect, you hired me to do a job and I intend to do that job,” Ryan said.
Sure, Leah was pretty—especially when her eyes shone as she helped the Wilson girl bait her hook. But Ryan wasn’t about to let anyone compromise his reputation. Not that a woman like Leah would ever ask him to.
He could tell that about her already. She had integrity.
The mayor nodded. “Glad to hear it, son,” he said.
He made a quick left onto a road so narrow the truck’s side mirrors nearly brushed the fence posts on both sides. “See that place over there?”
Murdoch gestured across the highway to the burned-out shell of the once-magnificent Berry home. To the right of the main building were several other structures that he could see much better on close range. The nearest to the road was definitely a weathered barn while the remainder were most likely a collection of storage buildings of some sort.
When he once again spied the horses, Ryan’s interest piqued. He judged them to be outstanding horseflesh, and his fingers itched to grab a bridle and chase one down. Not since his rodeo days had he felt such a tug to be astride a horse galloping across a pasture. And from the look of the land in front of him, there was plenty of space to ride.
A vast golden prairie swept from the lighthouse near the beach to the horizon, the grass swaying with the breeze coming off the Gulf of Mexico. He could almost feel the saddle under him.
Once a cowboy, always a fireman. Ryan’s dad was fond of teasing him with that saying. And yet, there was more to his love for horses than his former glory days as a bronc rider.
“That there’s Berry property, too,” Murdoch said, tearing Ryan from his thoughts. The old man gestured to the land unfolding in front of them. “House was a beauty until the big fire back in March. Too bad about that.” He shook his head. “Well, anyhow, there’s probably a violation or two out there. I’d have to check on the statutes, but I don’t think it’d be safe to leave a building in that kind of condition.”
Ryan sat up a little straighter, interested to hear what the mayor had to say about the Berry fire. “While you’re looking for those statutes,” he said. “I’d appreciate if you’d get me a copy, too.”
“Be glad to.”
“So,” Ryan said as his gaze swept the ruins, “tell me about the fire.”
Murdoch shook his head. “Went up fast, but then the place was close to one hundred and fifty years old. Carl was chief then, but in name only, really.”
“What do you mean?”
Gray brows furrowed. “Well, things stay pretty quiet around Vine Beach. Not a whole lot to do for the fire chief, but then I told you that when you interviewed for the job.”
He had, though Ryan didn’t much mind. Six months here and he’d be gone. All the better if he had an easy run of it.
“Carl hid his trouble pretty well, so while there had been talk of replacing him, nobody on the City Council wanted to be the one to bring it up formally.”
“What was wrong with him?”
“Alzheimer’s disease,” Murdoch said as he shifted into gear and headed the truck back toward the main road. “Once the house nearly burned up around him, well, we all knew something had to be done. That’s when Leah quit her job and came back here to run things.”
“So you’re saying the fire was accidentally set by Chief Berry?”
“I’m saying nothing of the sort. We had a hard rain that night. Could’ve been lightning. Or with the age of this house, a gas leak might’ve been the reason. I just know that whatever happened, Carl’s lucky to be alive. That place went up way too fast.”
“I see.” He watched the landscape roll by, the sea breeze tossing the breakers against the beach in the distance. Something in Jack Murdoch’s tone told him there was more to the story. “So where is he now?”
“Carl? He’s got a little place at the assisted-living facility just down from the harbor.”
He remembered his conversation with Leah regarding her father. Just to see what the mayor would say, he added, “I wonder if I ought to pay him a visit. Maybe get some pointers from him.”
“Wouldn’t advise it.” Murdoch shot him a sideways look. “He’s suffered enough. I’d rather him not know he’s lost his job, too.”
“Wait, you mean he doesn’t know he’s not the fire chief?”
“Didn’t see the need to tell him, and my guess is Leah hasn’t, either.” Murdoch signaled to turn onto Main Street. “Anything you need ought to be in the files, though. Nobody’s messed with them since Carl left. Didn’t need to.” A shrug. “Like I said. Not much happens here in Vine Beach.”
* * *
When he arrived at work Monday morning, Ryan discovered that the mayor hadn’t been exaggerating—not much happened in Vine Beach including fire inspections. While the schools and nursing homes had been checked over most recently, there was nothing in the file that showed the last time Pop’s Seafood Shack had been inspected. Only when he came across a bundle of papers in the back of the filing cabinet did he find a certificate of inspection.
It was dated 1973.
For a second, Ryan considered asking the mayor if he knew where Chief Berry would have kept current inspection certificates for Pop’s. But he quickly thought better of it.
The last thing Chief Berry—or Leah—needed was someone questioning the chief’s work.
On his desk was the list of locations needing inspections. Starting tomorrow he’d be making those visits. He’d get to Pop’s in due time.
And yet, what if the place really hadn’t been inspected in forty years?