Hero's Journey (6 page)

Eric agreed, except that he never liked Stella going to see the old man at his estate. He was always afraid she might never make it out again.

“Good idea,” Stella said. “I'll start there tonight, and get going on the Loflins' house tomorrow. Maybe between those things, we'll get some answers.”

“If this chimney sweep fellow finds out you're looking for him, it could be dangerous,” Walt warned. “Keep your head down. I'll be glad to help you out however I can.”

“I will. Thanks. I'll have almost the whole fire brigade with me at the Loflin house tomorrow. I think I'll be safe at Ben's house by myself. I'll give you a call if I need some help.”

“I would say you need more help at the old man's place than any other,” Eric muttered.

“Never mind that,” she told him. “You're prejudiced against him. Your opinion doesn't count.”

Eric nodded toward the front door suddenly. “John Trump is here. Maybe he's already solved this case. I keep telling you, Stella, you're a firefighter, not a police officer.”

John was about to knock when Eric opened the door for him. He looked startled as he walked into the cabin when no one was actually there to let him in. He smiled when he saw Stella and Walt sitting at the table.

“Did the ghost do that?” He was still peering back at the doorway. “Or do you need someone to level that door for you?”

“Keep him away from my door!” Eric growled.

The door slammed shut behind John in such a way that no errant breeze or imbalance could have accomplished.

John jumped, clearly rattled. “I guess that answers my question. Sorry if I offended you, Chief Gamlyn.”

Stella knew John was on the fence about the cabin being haunted or even about believing in ghosts at all. Tales of ghostly appearances and other supernatural folklore were as much a part of his upbringing as picking peppers in the summer and skiing in the winter. But for whatever reason, John lacked the same belief as the other people in Sweet Pepper.

He wanted to believe it was possible, she thought. He was too practical.

Walt bridged the awkward moment by getting up and making a pot of coffee. He'd already finished what he'd brought with him in the thermos. With John there, he knew there would be more conversation. That meant he needed more coffee.

Stella got out another Coke for herself as John took a seat at the table. She saw Eric watching him, gloating because he'd scared him. Sometimes her ghostly friend could be devilishly childish with his powers.

“You're both sitting around here trying to come up with a plan to get yourselves into trouble, aren't you?” John asked.

“Why do you say that?” Walt took down another coffee cup from the antler rack above the sink.

“Come on, Walt,” John said. “I can smell trouble brewing like your coffee. I'm sure you can too. What are you all up to?”

“We're trying to figure out if Don is going to do his job or what,” Walt said. “I don't want to run for police chief again in this town, but I will if I have to. Stella told us what happened today.”

“Us?” John shivered and looked around the room. The glass door that led to the back deck opened and closed. “Okay, you two, knock it off.”

Eric laughed and the lights flickered a few times. He was truly enjoying himself.

“That's enough.” Stella fixed her gaze on Eric's malevolent face.

“Who are you talking to?” John gulped as he asked her.

“A troublemaker,” she replied and then changed the subject. She knew how John felt about ghosts and such. She didn't want him to feel that he couldn't come back to the cabin again. “I know you didn't drive up here to drink coffee or worry about whether or not the cabin is haunted. What's going on?”

John's gaze swept the cabin again but nothing unusual happened. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “There's been another dog sighting.”

“Hero?” Stella asked.

“I think it might be.”

Walt put down the two cups of coffee and sat beside Stella. “We're all ears, son. Don't keep us guessing.”

John told them about a missing-child report they'd received. “The little boy had only been gone a few hours. He got separated from his parents in the park. We brought in everyone we could to search for him. All of a sudden, he comes running out of the forest and he's fine. He tells us a black-and-white dog helped him find his way back.”

Walt groaned. “That's just great. Now everyone is going to see that pup everywhere they go. I don't know if you'll ever find him, Stella, but his legend will be famous.”

John sipped his coffee. “I'm afraid Walt is right. The more people think they see Hero and call it in, the harder it's going to be to find him. There will be too many leads to verify all of them.”

“Do you think the boy was telling the truth?” Stella asked.

“I don't know.” John shrugged. “The news about the Loflins has had time to make the rounds. He might have really seen Hero or he might have just heard the story.”

“Where was he found?” Stella took out a map of Sweet Pepper and the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, which surrounded the town.

John pointed to the area near the VFW Park. “He was off in this area.”

Stella looked at where he pointed. “Not too far from the Loflins's place. It's possible he really saw Hero.”

“That could also mean our thief/arsonist is living in that area,” Walt said.

“Don has everyone on overtime looking for that suspect,” John said. “And thanks for letting him know I'd talked to you about the case, Stella. He stood in my face and yelled for thirty minutes.”

“Sorry. Sometimes he gets to me and I have to fire back.” Stella smiled at him.

“Sometimes?” Walt asked with a laugh. “It seems to me it happens a lot more often than not.”

“Are there any real leads in the case?” Stella questioned John.

“We know he drives a pickup and it's leaking oil. We have tire tracks—if you want to call bald-tire marks ‘tracks.' He wears gloves so we don't have any fingerprints. He chooses his targets carefully. Every place he's robbed has a well-to-do family living there. The families use services so we're checking landscapers, plumbers, maids, the usual.”

“What about chimney sweeps?” Eric asked.

Stella asked the question for him.

“Yeah. That new fella Patrick Dorner has worked for most of them. It's that time of year. The places he hasn't been, Jack Carriker has been. Why? Is Dorner someone we should be looking at more than the others?”

She told him about Hero's disappearance right after Patrick had been at the cabin cleaning her chimney.

“I can see why you'd think that,” John said. “But why would Dorner take Hero? It doesn't make any sense.”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “I'm only trying to piece this together, like you are. Do you know where Patrick lives? I called his cell phone but I can't get in touch with him.”

John nodded. “I can look into that. He's staying in a travel trailer over at the campground right outside of town.”

“I'd appreciate that.” Stella glanced up at Eric. “It would make me feel better if there was no sign of a dog being with him.”

“I'll check it on my way home tonight.”

Stella glanced at her watch. “Speaking of that, I'm on my way to talk to the person who recommended Patrick to me.”

“Yeah. Who's that?” John asked. “I could go with, if you like.”

Walt nearly choked on his last swallow of coffee. “You don't want to know. And you don't want to go with her.”

John frowned. “Ben Carson, right?”

“That's right.” Stella got to her feet and put her Coke can in the recycling.

“Did he have something stolen after a small fire?” John wondered.

“Not as far as I know. But then, I didn't either. Patrick might be completely innocent in all of this. That's why I'm asking about him. Tomorrow we'll get started at the Loflin house. I'm sure there will be some answers there.”

John stood with her. “I withdraw my offer to go with you. Sorry. You know how I feel about the old man.”

Her eyes were stormy. “I do. And I can't help that I'm related to him. I guess you know that too. I'll see you later.”

Stella walked out of the cabin with John right behind her.

Walt shook his head as he put his coffee cup in the sink. “That boy is as thick as pea soup, Eric. He could be with her if he wasn't so stubborn about living in the past. It's a shame. I'll go now too, buddy. Talk to you later.”

Eric had his own ideas about that. He closed the door to the cabin when everyone was gone.

“Stella—” John stopped her before she could get on the Harley.

“What?” She put on her helmet and angrily faced him.

“You know it's nothing personal.”

“Thanks for telling me. I feel so much better.”

“Sorry. I'll check on Dorner and get back to you. If he's got Hero, I'll bring him back.”

The last part was said in a shout as she started the Harley and took off.

Stella had heard all she'd wanted to hear about John's father. According to the tale, John's father had been fired from working on her grandfather's estate for no apparent reason. He'd killed himself shortly after.

Her grandfather's part of the tale was that John's father had been fired for stealing.

She didn't know either man well enough to say which part was true. She didn't exactly trust Ben Carson. She'd been kept away from him all of her life. Her mother had left Sweet Pepper when she was very young and had never looked back.

Recently, she'd confided to Stella that she'd thought Ben had killed her mother. That was why she'd left home. As the years had passed, Barbara Carson-Griffin had changed her mind. Now she believed it was shock and a youthful mind playing tricks on her.

The strange part was that Stella's mother had never said anything about having family here at all. She'd let Stella take the temporary job in Sweet Pepper without even telling her that a part of her family she'd never known was waiting for her here.

Like many things that involved the Carson family, her mother's leaving and decision to finally speak to her father again were shrouded in mystery. People in Sweet Pepper loved all the Carson lore and clung to it as they did their ghost stories.

Stella drove down the dark, twisting road to the firehouse more quickly than usual. She knew John was right behind her. She didn't want to talk to him again that night. She was tired of trying to convince him that she wasn't her grandfather.

She saw the pickup's headlights flash a few times behind her as John tried to signal her. She ignored him and turned on the main road, heading out of town for the Carson estate.

It was a good night to ride the motorcycle. The weather was dry and mild for a change. It probably wouldn't be long before they had snow and she had to put the Harley in storage for the winter.

Back home they'd already had snow. Stella's mother or father called every day wondering when she was coming back. She wasn't sure what to tell them. She was committed to finding Eric's killer. She'd put everything else on hold for that purpose.

She knew Chief Henry wouldn't hold her job forever. She kept hoping they'd find the answers to what had happened to Eric. But it had happened a long time ago. Many of the people involved were dead. Answers weren't particularly forthcoming. She felt sure they were out there, but she wasn't sure where.

The Harley took the steep hill to the estate entrance a lot easier than it took the mountain road to the cabin. Ben had offered to let her stay at the mansion, but Stella was reluctant.

It wasn't only the fact that she didn't really know him. Ben had remarried and Vivian, his new wife, was worried that Stella would take over. Vivian had a son, Marty, from a previous marriage. The two were always scheming, trying to find some way around Ben's promise that neither of them would inherit his money, corporation, and property.

It was a regular soap opera right there in Sweet Pepper. Too much drama for Stella, who'd grown up with her father's boisterous, and open, Irish family.

Bernard was at the gated entrance. He was her grandfather's driver and took care of his collection of cars. He saluted her as he opened the gate. Stella raced through the portal and up to the house. The road was smooth and well lit. The estate was run carefully and tended like the pepper fields in the area. Nothing was left to chance. Everything went the way Ben Carson wanted it to—or there better be a good reason why not.

There were dozens of cars in the driveway. Her grandfather was waiting at the door as Stella parked her Harley and took off her helmet. “I was wondering when we'd see each other again,” he said. “You're always so busy with the fire brigade. No time for an old man who loves you.”

Ben was tall and thin, stooped a little with age. His gray hair was thinning but his brown eyes, so like her mother's, were sharp. He never missed a thing.

“I'm sorry about lunch last week.” She was slightly uncomfortable with his hug and his declaration of love. The only things she knew about him were things her mother had told her. She felt like their relationship was too sketchy for him to have any real feelings about her at all.

“That doesn't matter. Can you stay for a while? I have some marvelous new muscadine wine that you might enjoy. It was one of the first bottles corked from my new vineyard.”

Stella didn't want to seem rude. She'd been raised to respect her elders. “Sure. That sounds fine.”

They walked into the mansion together. There was a huge foyer with a wonderful crystal chandelier and an ornate, curving staircase that was very artistic.

It was also the same staircase where Barbara Carson, Stella's mother, had found her mother's dead body. Stella always looked away from that spot.

“Let's sit in here,” Ben invited. “Vivian has one of her charity groups over tonight. I'd rather disturb a hornet's nest than bother them.”

He led her into a small, private parlor and closed the door. A fire had been lit in the hearth, lending warmth to the dark paneled room. A few minutes later, one of the housemaids brought wine and two glasses.

“So, what can I do for you?” Ben uncorked the bottle and smelled it. “I know this isn't a social call. You didn't drive up here to sit and talk.”

“I have a few questions about Patrick Dorner.” She didn't bother to deny that she was there for a reason.

“The chimney sweep.” He nodded as he poured them each some red wine. “How did he work out for you? I thought he did a great job here. All five chimneys are working very well. He was clean and punctual too.”

Stella took the glass of wine from him. Muscadine wine was popular in the area. It had a very different taste than the wine she was used to. She liked it. The earthy aroma and taste reminded her of summer.