On the other hand, maybe when she looked at him, Cate saw the arson investigator for the Charlotte Fire Department he’d been in the years between high school and his recent return. He wondered if she’d heard all the stories that seemed to have mushroomed in town. Winnie Zook, the town’s most avid gossip, had been heard telling those who’d listen that Rand had come back to the slower-paced Loganton Fire Department not just to put out fires, but to follow in his father’s footsteps and sell books on his own time. As soon as he’d started knocking around in his father’s old bookstore, tearing down walls and sawing at all hours—when not on duty, of course—Winnie had taken to stopping by to chat. She’d also made a point of strolling past the plate glass window and peeking in every so often, since the former Reading Corner sat next to her knitting goods store.
Rand had no idea what he was going to do with his father’s old store, but remodeling the space gave him something to do in his downtime. He sure wasn’t going to bother arguing with Winnie, much less those others who insisted he’d come home to write the Great American Novel, based on his experiences. Or even with those Logantonians who just knew he was hiding out from the mob—he had helped put away a number of organized crime types who torched property for the insurance pay-off, after all.
The multiple theories, creative as they were, made Rand laugh. He’d come back home because it was home. He knew everyone in town, and he wanted to make a difference in their lives. True, he’d left all those years ago for practically the same reason. A family tragedy had turned his life upside down. His cousin Ross’s death had been hard to take, especially since it had been Rand’s first call as a rookie volunteer firefighter. He hadn’t wanted to face the loss of another person he loved, or even knew.
In time, he’d realized he was lonely in Charlotte. So he’d come back. Now, he’d faced the very issue that had sent him running in the first place. And he’d dealt with it. He hoped it grew easier as he went along. He’d have to ask Joe for advice once the older man was well enough.
But he sure couldn’t tell the citizens he’d been hired to protect why he’d left as a young man. Or why he’d come back. It might make him sound pathetic, certainly not strong enough to keep them safe.
The ambulance door slammed shut behind Cate. He wondered which of the lurid tales about him she’d heard, what she’d thought of him. Had she seen a competent firefighter, her father’s second in command, a successful professional concerned about a man who’d been there for him when Rand had needed comfort and guidance after his father died?
He and Cate had never had much in common. She’d been a flake; he’d been serious, studious, driven. But tonight, those differences didn’t matter.
Rand glanced back at the burnt building. The moonlight highlighted the shell that remained of the vintage structure against the smoky sky. What a loss. Buildings like the theater were vanishing treasures. He hated seeing them like this.
At least no lives had been lost. Joe and Wilma should, with good medical care, recover.
As he headed back toward his clustered men, the image of Cate’s face flashed through his thoughts. He felt the sudden urge to hurry to the hospital, to tell her Joe would be fine, to comfort her in her time of need.
He had no earthly idea why the urge was so strong. He just knew he wanted to see Cate again.
The ambulance pulled away from the scene, siren blaring, the EMTs working on her father. Cate shrank into herself, tried to take up the least amount of the limited space. As random medical equipment bleeped and flashed, she watched her dad’s face.
He’d open his eyes for a moment, then, obviously drained, he’d surrender and his eyelids would droop back down. The next time he opened them again, she saw him look around, work to focus and when he spotted her, struggle to raise his head.
Ann Davies, one of the EMTs, turned to Cate. “He’s trying to say something, but the mask is in the way. He needs the oxygen right now, though.”
Her father’s urge to communicate encouraged Cate. “Can you lift the mask for a second? Just enough for him to talk.”
Tethered to the narrow gurney, Joe Caldwell, a huge bear of a man, dwarfed the tight confines of the ambulance. As Ann considered Cate’s request, he grew more agitated.
Cate tried again. “He’s upset. Let him tell us what he wants and then he’ll probably settle back down. He’s a pretty stubborn guy.”
With a final measuring glance at Joe, Ann gave Cate a nod. “Come closer, right down here so he can whisper.”
Cate couldn’t have imagined what her father finally said.
“Not just fire…” he said in a wheezy, scratchy whisper. “Explosion…meth lab in the front of the basement…”
“Meth lab!” In the last year and a half, Loganton had seen the drug make inroads into the community. True, a meth lab had been found and a couple of dealers jailed, but not before the drug had claimed its victims.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t claim an additional two tonight.
Dad was a fighter and Wilma Tucker a spunky livewire with more stubborn to her than a mule. By God’s merciful grace they’d both recover.
Cate brought her lips close to his ear as Ann replaced the mask on her father’s face. “I’ll call the PD and the sheriff’s office as soon as we get to the hospital. I’m sure they’re planning to talk to you, but this’ll make them get right to it. All you have to do is relax and recover.”
His eyes blazed. He twisted against the gurney’s restraints. Ann lifted the mask again.
“No time to lay around—the kids! You’re the boss now, Catey. But the fire…”
The EMT clapped the mask back in place, chuckled and shook her head. “Sorry, Chief. You don’t get a choice here. Cate’ll do her thing with your grandkids, but you’re gonna have to let your men do the footwork this time. And that mask doesn’t move again, you hear?”
Sympathy flooded Cate. There was nothing that got her dad more energized than digging out clues to a fire’s cause. This time, he’d have to trust others to do the job. Like Rand, the former Charlotte arson investigator he’d hired as his number two man.
Her dad’s job now was to stay quiet and recover. Although he wasn’t out of the woods yet, relief flooded Cate. This, she could handle.
Another thought flew into her head. The kids. Total responsibility for ten-year-olds Robby and Tommy, and eight-year-old Lindsay. Could she handle that?
Only time would tell.
At the hospital, Rand headed for the ER entrance. He had to see how Wilma was doing. He’d worked part-time at the theater for her parents as a teen—collecting tickets, sweeping floors, serving popcorn—and he’d come to care deeply for them. Wilma herself? Well, she’d been interesting, that’s for sure.
A free spirit all her life, Wilma left Loganton after graduation and wandered back home whenever an adventure came to its end, only to leave again once the lure of the open road—and a new adventure—became too potent to ignore. She’d finally come to stay when her mother’s rheumatoid arthritis grew too painful for her to keep working and her father lost his battle with macular degeneration and went blind.
The older Tuckers had moved into the Pines Retirement Community on the outskirts of Loganton, and Wilma had restored the theater to its lush, roaring-twenties original glory. Rand knew Augie and Ruth Tucker would have a hard time coping with their daughter’s injuries and the devastation of their family business.
At the information desk, he asked about Wilma and was told to take a seat in the waiting room. Doctors were working on her and a nurse would give him an update once the desk was notified