Precarious Summer Page 3

  “I...I didn’t want to bother you, Sheriff,” Audra stammered, “I mean you’ve worked a full day—”

  Carter replied in an easy tone, “Tom had to go to the supper club. One of their dishwashers is on the blink.” Had she found out that Chad hadn’t been home early this morning and didn’t want to tell him? Or had she struck out and didn’t want to tell him that, either?

  “But you’re the sheriff, not a handyman. I never—”

  “Relax.” He took refuge in his reason for coming. “Tom taught me how to fix stuff. Let’s just hope this oven door doesn’t fight me.” He reached over the sill, turned the inner doorknob, and let himself in.

  “Come in,” she said belatedly.

  As Carter passed Audra, she leaned back, giving him as much leeway as possible in the narrow work area. “Which oven?” he asked, his tone turning gruff with his own feelings of awkwardness. Did Audra believe any of the ancient gossip about him? But she hadn’t acted like this earlier in the day. Was her uneasiness around him about Chad and this morning’s fire? He set his toolbox on the floor between the two large commercial ovens.

  “This one.” She pointed to the open oven and rubbed her nose with the back of her dough-sticky hand. “I turned it off and let it cool down—”

  “Good.” He faced the oven and lifted the door, testing its action. If he concentrated on the chore, she might calm down. Later, when she was home, he’d try to call and ask her about Chad. He hoped she’d heard something that would put Chad beyond suspicion. But from the way she was acting, he doubted it. “This repair should be fairly straightforward.”

  The phone rang and Audra pushed the button on her earphone.

  He listened to her recite a memorized greeting. A buzzer sounded; she turned to open the other oven as she continued taking the order. The gust of the heat from the oven hit his face as he dug through his toolbox and pulled out a long, heavy-duty wire.

  She hung up and jotted notes on an order pad.

  He bent one end of the stiff wire into a tight U. “Audra, I’m going to try to use this to hook the spring and reconnect it. But first, do you have a warranty on these ovens? I don’t want to do something that would invalidate it.”

  She gave him her attention. “No, no warranty.” She began arranging dough in a pan and didn’t look at him. “I bought them used.”

  He still sensed her agitation, but acted as if he were oblivious to it. “Okay, then.” He inserted the wire into the slot on the side of the oven door.

  Another local, Sylvie Patterson, appeared at the Dutch door. “Hi, Audra. I’ve come for my large pizza with the works.”

  Audra smiled. “I just took it out. How was business at the bookstore today?”

  “Great. I’m happy I won’t have to start staying open evenings until sometime in June, but I love the tourist season. I look forward to the people, and getting to know them. It’ll be the same for you.”

  “I hope so.” Audra slid one pizza from the warming rack, nearly losing it off the paddle before she fit it into a cardboard box. She did better with the second pizza.

  With a cheery wave, Sylvie left and Audra finished prepping a pizza for the next order. But she swirled the sauce a bit too generously and more splattered her white apron.

  Carter sensed that his presence was making her fumble. Stick to business, he told himself.

  He probed and dug with the wire deep within the side of the oven door, trying to catch a loop of the broken spring buried there. The heat from the other oven almost seared his face. The task was a frustrating one. And unfortunately, frustration had been his mood all day. He swiped sweat from his forehead and gritted his teeth and continued to poke around for the elusive spring.

  “Audra.” A deep voice hailed her from her Dutch door.

  This was the voice Carter had grown to dread throughout his campaign for sheriff. Not here. Not now, Lord. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over, hoping to be wrong. He wasn’t. Audra’s uncle was standing at the door, in the flesh. Hunching up a shoulder, Carter tried not to move more than he had to in order not to call attention to himself. Why did Hal Ramsdel have to show up now?

  “Uncle Hal,” Audra greeted him.

  Carter kept watch from the corner of his eye.

  “Looks like you’re busy?” Hal leaned on the door. “Hope Brent is earning his pay.”

  Carter digested this. So the dark-haired kid tossing pizza dough behind him was Hal Ramsdel’s son. Poor kid.

  “Brent’s been working nonstop. We’ve been making pizzas steadily since I opened at four.” Audra motioned toward Carter. “Unfortunately, my oven door...”

  Don’t, Audra. Don’t try to cast me in a good light to your uncle. It’s a lost cause.

  “...spring let loose. Tom, Shirley’s friend, couldn’t come, so he asked his stepson to come over.” She sent a shy smile in Carter’s direction. “I really appreciate it.”

  No way out. Carter stared directly into Hal Ramsdel’s blazing eyes and didn’t flinch.

  “You,” Hal accused in a low, bitter tone. “I thought you’d know—without being told—I don’t want you anywhere near my niece.”

  “I’ll be gone as soon as I fix her oven door.” Carter kept his voice cool, a contrast to Hal’s heated tone.

  “Audra, you know this man has the morals of a snake. Why would you ask him for help?”

  “I’m just fixing her oven door. I don’t have designs on her.” Carter’s old sarcasm surfaced, leaving him disgusted with himself. The wire he was manipulating caught something. Got it. He clamped his jaw tighter as the heavy-duty spring put up an active resistance.

  “With your murky past—why anyone around here voted to make you sheriff is a mystery to me,” Hal ranted. “Twenty years ago, when you nearly killed that kid, you got off scot-free.”

  Audra glanced back and forth between them. Her expression showed her agitation. A half-finished pizza sat on the counter. “Uncle Hal, Carter’s here to help me—”

  “Don’t bother, Audra,” Carter muttered as he tugged on the spring, willing it not to slip from his grasp. “Just drop it.”

  Hal glared. “And you destroyed my daughter’s life. Getting her started on drugs killed her. Stay away from Audra. Do you understand me?”

  “Loud and clear.” Just an inch or so more of patient effort and Carter would see the spring peek out of the oven slot.

  “Uncle Hal, Carter hasn’t done anything but help me.” Audra sounded distressed. She was wringing her hands.

  Couldn’t Hal see how his attack on Carter upset her? Carter called the man a name under his breath and then wished he hadn’t said it.

  Carter burned at the injustice of what Hal had just spewed out and at the same time, remorse over his past chilled him. Coaxing the spring out into the open, he gave a grunt as he managed to hook it back into place.

  Hal went on muttering under his breath. Audra stood frozen between them. Brent had stopped working and was watching, obviously enjoying the show.

  “I hear there was a fire set behind Ollie’s store.” Hal tossed out the piece of information like a challenge. “What’s so fishy about it that I hear the fire chief might be calling in someone from the state?”

  “I’m almost done,” Carter muttered, ignoring Hal. He reached into the toolbox for his needle-nose pliers. “Audra, I’m just going to make sure the spring is wrapped more securely in place.”

  “What about it, Harding?” Hal taunted him.

  “I’m not discussing an ongoing investigation with you, Ramsdel.” Carter gripped the pliers and twisted the end of the spring twice around its anchor. His arm muscles stretched and clenched as he twisted. He’d like to twist Ramsdel’s slandering mouth and tie it into a knot. It didn’t help that he had done things as a teen that he regretted.

  Carter tested the door’s action by opening and shutting it twice. He exhaled, trying to release his tension. “Done.”

  “Thank you.” Relief laced Audra’s voice, her gaze s
till shifting back and forth between Hal and him.

  Hal made a sound of impatience.

  “No problem.” Carter packed up his pliers and snapped the metal toolbox shut. Lord, help me get out of here before I say something I’ll regret.

  “What do I owe you?” she asked.

  “No charge.” Carter headed for the door. Ramsdel blocked the exit.

  “No, Sheriff, please,” she argued, “I... Let me pay you for your time.”

  Carter shouldered his way through the door, forcing Ramsdel to give ground.

  “I don’t want my niece beholden to you.” Ramsdel pulled out his wallet. He shoved a twenty-dollar bill toward Carter.

  Carter ignored the bill, letting it flutter to the ground. He hurried through the small backyard to the alley. Perhaps his quick exit would save Audra further embarrassment.

  “Hey!” Hal roared after him. “Don’t you ignore me.” The man punctuated this with an epithet that humiliated Carter doubly because Audra was an unwilling witness.

  Carter swung around. “Watch your language, Ramsdel.” He shoved open the wrought-iron gate and escaped into the alley. “I don’t want your money, and I’ll stay away from your niece.”

  Carter marched down the alley, seething, nearly breathing flames. Twenty years had passed, but Ramsdel would never let Carter forget his relationship with Sarah. The injustice of this rankled. But at least he’d been able to hold back the truth about her one more time. What Ramsdel didn’t know about his late daughter was better left unsaid.

  LATER, LEAVING BEHIND the cool, clear, starry night, Audra walked through Shirley’s back door into the large brightly lit kitchen and slumped onto the nearest chair. Shirley and Tom already sat at the table. She grinned at them with effort. Even my face is tired, Lord. She wished she’d made some push to find out information to clear Chad.

  Wearing worn jeans and a carefully pressed plaid shirt, Shirley, plump and freckled, stood and turned to the fridge. “Don’t try to tell me you’re not hungry. I know better. You probably haven’t had a mouthful since noon.” Shirley began making a sandwich on the counter.

  “Your pizza was great,” Tom said. “Chad and I were working late at the supper club.” Tom was a head taller than Shirley, with salt-and-pepper hair and laugh lines around his mouth.

  Audra grinned, too tired to talk. Soon, Shirley put an apple, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a tall glass of milk in front of her. After an evening of breathing in oregano and garlic, Audra welcomed the smell of peanut butter. “Thanks, Shirley. But you do so much for me already. Taking care of Evie for free—”

  “Hey. She’s my unpaid assistant. Today she helped me take care of the Olson twins. And even after that, she told me she wants six kids when she grows up. I didn’t ask her who she’d chosen as the dad. I don’t think she’s thought that far in advance.” Shirley chuckled.

  Audra smiled in spite of the twinge Shirley’s words brought. Being away from Evie since noon had been hard on her. “He better be rich if she wants six,” she said. “And he better like children.” Unaccountably, the sheriff’s face flashed in her mind and then Chad’s face, prickling her conscience. Okay, just ask Shirley where Chad was this morning. Or ask Chad?

  Shirley grabbed a dishcloth from the sink and began wiping the counter. “So I take it you sold out.”

  “Yes, I ran out of dough a little after eight, so I put the ‘Sorry, please call earlier next time’ message on the answering machine and finished up the last few pizza orders I had.” Audra rested her head in her free hand and chewed. My jaws are even tired.

  “I could have come to help you clean up,” Shirley said. Bone-weary, Audra swallowed with difficulty. Wasn’t it just like Shirley to offer to help when she had already had a full day, cooking, cleaning and taking care of the twins and Evie? “You do enough already,” Audra muttered.

  Shirley sat back down. “Are you sure you can keep up this schedule all summer?”

  “I have to.” Like a sudden machine-gun blast, self-doubt riddled Audra. If she were to make the life, the secure future she wanted for Evie, she must keep up this schedule all summer. She gathered her hard-won self-confidence. “It’s just four months, May through August. After that, I’ll just do pizzas four evenings a week.”

  “Well, if business is good, what’s wrong?” Shirley leaned her chin on her hand. “You’ve got that dumped-on expression I know too well.”

  Audra glanced up. Thoughts of the sheriff’s suspicion of Chad and the harsh words between him and her uncle buzzed through her mind like angry wasps. But she couldn’t bring up the fight between Hal and Carter, not with Tom, Carter’s stepdad, sitting there.

  Audra’s back ached, her feet felt numb. And her nerves vibrated as she remembered how Carter’s long, lean body had filled up her kitchen. In spite of the unnerving residue of Hal’s outburst, Carter’s presence had lingered in that confined space long after he’d left.

  She didn’t want to upset Shirley, but something about Uncle Hal disturbed her. Something disquieting had started inside him about ten years ago when he’d lost his daughter Sarah to a drug overdose. Now divorced a second time and forced to start over again financially, her uncle was losing control more and more. She scrubbed her palm over her tight forehead. What if there was something wrong with him?

  Shirley touched her hand. “Evie told me your sister showed up this morning and helped out at the café.”

  Audra tried to make light of the topic. “That’s right.” Yes, Megan, Brent, Hal—today had been one happy family reunion.

  “Why do you think Megan showed up out of the blue to help you?” Shirley asked. “Do you think your mother had anything to do with her coming?”

  “No, I don’t. Megan’s seventeen and contrary. Maybe this is her way to flout Mother.”

  Shirley frowned. “That sounds like trouble...for you.”

  The word trouble brought the sheriff’s morning visit back to Audra yet again. She looked around. The house was quiet. Evie and Chad already must be upstairs in bed. Just ask. It could help Chad. “Carter stopped by this morning. Did you hear about the fire at Ollie’s?”

  Shirley and Tom looked at each other and then nodded.

  “Was Chad in his room early this morning around three?” Audra hoped, really hoped one of them would be able to give Chad an alibi.

  “Why do you ask?” Tom’s brows drew together. “Is Chad suspected?”

  Audra lowered her voice. “Chad’s got a reputation. And someone set the fire—”

  “Well, I didn’t!” Chad suddenly stepped into the kitchen from the hallway.

  “Chad.” Tom rose, reaching for the young man’s arm. “Now don’t—”

  “I didn’t set that fire!” Chad bellowed. “Why does everybody always pick on me?”

  “Chad, sit down,” Shirley began. “Let’s talk this—”

  Chad barreled past them and out the back door, slamming it behind him. Tom took off after him.

  Audra buried her face in her hands. A perfect ending to a perfectly awful day.

  Chapter Three

  “Fire! Fire!” Shirley’s shrill voice echoed in Audra’s groggy mind. She jerked up in bed. Below, feet pounded on the hardwood stairs. A smoke alarm was blaring. And then she smelled it through the barely open window—smoke.

  “Get up! Get out!” Tom shouted. Audra heard him fling open the door leading up to Audra and Evie’s attic room. “Audra! Quick! Fire!”

  Shrieking silently, Audra leaped from her bed and scooped Evie out of the twin bed next to hers. Still sleep-numbed, she staggered down the narrow staircase. At the bottom, Tom snatched Evie from her arms and dragged Audra by the hand.

  They raced down the remaining stairs to the front foyer and out the front door. Barefoot, Audra sprinted over the chilly, dewy grass and then onto the cool gritty cement of the street. Dawn glowed just below the horizon. Against the dreary gray background, orange and gold flames and black smoke billowed skyward behind Shirley’s three-story
frame house. Insistent smoke alarms, still blaring inside, crashed through her mind, stunning her. Fire. Another fire.

  Dressed in worn summer pajamas and a robe, Shirley gathered Audra into her arms. “I was so frightened,” she gasped. “I was afraid you wouldn’t get out.”

  Even though her heart still raced, Audra gave Shirley a reassuring squeeze. Stepping back, she glanced around. Tom hovered right behind them. Evie clung to Tom, her head buried just above the waist of his worn pajama shirt. Neighbors in robes and slippers were streaming out of their front doors—all staring at the garish flames and black smoke pouring from the rear of Shirley’s house.

  “But where is Chad?” Audra’s voice and question didn’t seem to register with Shirley. Then Tom leaned close to her and said, “Chad’s nowhere inside. I checked.” Tom’s expression told her to let Chad’s whereabouts go. Why had she brought up the fire and Chad last night? Audra’s mind accused her, This is all your fault.

  A large older woman in a head scarf and a sweater miss-buttoned over men’s pajamas hurried out the front door of the house next to Shirley’s. “Did you all get out? Is everyone all right?”

  Shirley hugged the woman. “Oh, Florence, Florence, thank you for calling—”

  Garish rotating red lights and the blaring siren announced the arrival of the local fire engine. It charged up the alley behind Shirley’s house. Shirley made to go toward it, but Tom grabbed her shoulder. “No. We need to keep out of their way.”

  Shirley nodded and stepped back closer to him.

  “I heard glass breaking,” Florence said, tucking a stray lock of her long gray and black hair under her scarf. Florence was half Ojibwa and the widow of a local fishing guide. “And when I looked out to see who was breaking bottles in the alley—you know how I hate that—I saw flames zooming up to the sky”—she raised both arms—“just zooming up all around your back porch.”

  Audra wrapped her arms around herself. The very early morning chill easily penetrated her thin cotton pajamas. She lifted one bare foot and rested its sole on top of the other foot. But it was shock that was turning her insides to ice. Where was Chad? She clamped her mouth shut so she wouldn’t blurt the words out.