Murder Fir Christmas (2 page)

Harvey came out right after her. He was laughing as he put on his uniform hat. “I think it’s official. Eric Gamlyn likes you.”

She thought back to the group of people she’d been introduced to. She didn’t remember anyone by that name. “I’m sorry. Was he there? Is he the mayor or something?”

He kept laughing. “No. Sorry. You’re not exactly from here, so you don’t recognize the name. He’s the former fire chief. He’s kind of famous, so everyone knows him.”

“I still don’t remember him. There weren’t that many people in the room, but it was a long drive.”

“You probably wouldn’t have seen him. He’s been dead for about forty years. I only know a lot about him from his folklore. But Stella lives with him full time. If she says she met your mother, so did Eric.”

“A ghost?” She was having trouble with that. Not that the valley didn’t have ghosts. They had ghosts in Alabama too. But usually people didn’t talk about them like they were right here. “Is this some kind of initiation?”

“No. I expect it’s a lot to take in, especially on your first day. Let’s go down to the Sweet Pepper Cafe and grab some lunch. We can talk about getting everything set up before I leave.”

She remembered the cafe. The smell of hush puppies and fried chicken drifted down the street with the last brown leaves of autumn and a few snow flurries. There was nothing to worry about yet. She had plenty of time to eat.

They got settled in around a table, and a young woman who looked like she was in high school came to take their orders. Everyone stopped by to say hello to Harvey and was introduced to Bonnie. She was sure she’d know the entire town before she left. There was friendly—and then there was Sweet Pepper.

“Naturally you’ll take the Hummer. The government bought that for us a few years back. It will get in and out of anything.” Harvey added sugar to his coffee. “There’s the house too, but you said you don’t want that. I’ve arranged to rent it out through a real estate company so you won’t have to bother with it. The office is right next door. I’ve already taken my stuff out of there. The basics are still in there—chair, desk, telephone, and fax. I’ll give you the information to get in touch with whoever you need from the feds.”

“Thanks. I’ve never moved around like this, so I appreciate the help.”

“You’ve been in Alabama since you started?”

“Yes. You were already established here when I finished training, and you didn’t seem ready to move to something else.”

“I wasn’t then, but I’ve been doing this for the last thirty years. I’m ready to retire.” He laughed.

“That’s understandable.”

The waitress brought back their meals, both with hushpuppies. Bonnie had gone for the chicken rather than the fish as Harvey had. No offense, but there was no way they could make fish like they did in Alabama.

“Why didn’t you tell them that your mother has Alzheimer’s? You might need their help with her sometime.”

“I don’t know. I’m not used to sharing personal information with people I barely know.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it. That’s the way folks are around here. I thought you’d know that, being from here and all.”

“Sometimes they’re a little too friendly,” she muttered.

They heard fire engines coming down Main Street. Everyone in the cafe stopped to speculate as to what was going on.

A police officer rushed into the cafe, quickly scanning the tables until he found us. “Harvey, some fool started a fire out on the little island in Sweet Pepper Lake. The chief wants to know if you’ll come out there to help.”

“Sure, Skeet. This is my replacement, Agent Bonnie Tuttle.”

“Rose Tuttle’s daughter?” the plump, balding officer asked. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

“Let’s get going,” Harvey said to her as he pushed away from the table. “Never a dull moment.”

Chapter Two

She left her pickup at the curb and got in the Hummer with Harvey. She didn’t know what she expected from the vehicle—she’d never ridden in one. But it operated smoothly, even though it took up half the narrow streets in the downtown area.

Sweet Pepper Lake was one place Bonnie remembered. She’d spent many sunny afternoons out there on the beach when she was in high school. It looked just as she remembered it, with the tall mountains ringing it. The cloud cover was hanging low on the mountaintops, making the water appear as gray as the sky. The wind was colder here, coming off the lake with no trees to slow it down.

Both fire engines as well as two police cars were at the shore. A large boat outfitted with hoses and a water cannon was at the dock. It looked as though it was ready to leave.

“We have our boat docked over here by theirs,” Harvey said as we got out of the Hummer. “We don’t have the water power they have, but we have more maneuverability since we have to get in and out of the coves and up close by the dam to check fishing permits.”

Bonnie followed him to a HydraSports boat, and they jumped onboard. It was much nicer than the boats she was used to in Alabama. Clearly there was more money in the area that was allotted to the agency. She untied the boat as Harvey got on the helm. The fireboat,
Tennessee Teardrop
, was almost to the little island before they were on the water.

Smoke from the fire added to the heavy clouds. The air was full of it, playing havoc with their noses as they got closer.

“I see someone on the shore,” she said. “Something must’ve happened to his boat.”

“I see him. Radio the
Teardrop
that we’ll pick him up. I’d like the opportunity to kick his butt for being so stupid. It’s always dry this time of year. Everyone knows that.”

The driver of the fireboat, Rufus Palcomb, let her know that they’d spotted a fishing boat off the side of the island that appeared to be adrift. “We’re dispatching another boat to get it. Chief says not to bother you with that since there are so many animals on the island that need rescuing.”

“Copy that,” she replied. “We’re almost there.”

Harvey brought the boat in close to the shore, and the man, rifle in hand, waded into the water to climb aboard.

“My boat got away from me,” he told them. “Can we go pick it up?”

“Someone else is taking care of that,” Bonnie told him. “Do you have a permit for that rifle, sir?”

“Permit? I live in Sweet Pepper. Why do I need a permit?”

“You were hunting, weren’t you?”

“Only a few ducks.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t hunting deer or anything.”

“You still need a permit, son,” Harvey told him. “What’s your name?”

He took out his driver’s license and handed it to Bonnie. “Ray Hoy, sir. I’d really appreciate it if we could get my boat before it drifts further away.”

“We’re not doing that right now, Mr. Hoy.” She wrote down his name and address. “But someone will pick it up. I’ll have to confiscate that rifle. It’s not duck hunting season, and you don’t have a permit. Is it registered?”

“No, ma’am. My daddy says only communists register their weapons.”

There was a call from the
Teardrop
. “Royce Pope has the boat. Is your man named Fletcher Bancroft?”

“No.” She glanced at his driver’s license again. “Ray Hoy.”

Rufus laughed. “Better hold him for the sheriff then. I don’t think this is his boat.”

Bonnie had only used her handcuffs a handful of times in the past ten years. She took them out and told him to turn around. “I’m placing you under arrest, sir, for several wildlife violations as well as possibly stealing a boat. Just take a seat, and we’ll get this settled.”

He sat where she put him. She pocketed his license with the first paperwork.

“Don’t forget we’ve got him for this fire too,” Harvey said. “This is our jurisdiction out of the city. If it was a structure fire, it would be different.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

There was an old dock on the island. It was enough to tie the boat up to but not enough to use to get on land. Bonnie and Harvey jumped into the thigh-high water with their nets and snares to save what animals they could by getting them off the island.

A third splash followed as Ray Hoy pushed himself backwards off the boat. Bonnie realized that she should have cuffed him to the railing and not trusted that he’d stay where she put him.

“I’ll get him,” she told Harvey, red-faced after she’d made a rookie mistake on her first day.

“Don’t take all day about it,” her partner said in an irritated voice. “This place is going up quick.”

She looked at the burning treetops. The smoke was heavier now as the forest on the island was consumed. She could only guess that there were a couple of acres out here. She’d been out there as a kid—they all had—but never paid any attention.

The water cannons from the
Tennessee Teardrop
were blasting at the fire as she dove into the cold water. It was one heck of a welcome.

Bonnie made quick movements into the water, knowing Ray Hoy couldn’t have gotten far in this cold water—or with his hands cuffed together either. She circled the boat, watching for him, and came up for air near the old dock. Taking a deep breath, she was about to go down again when she noticed her quarry. He was close to the dock, as though hoping she wouldn’t notice him there.

Looking to surprise him so she wouldn’t have to chase him again, she came around from the other side of the dock, put out one hand to grab him by the shoulder, and surfaced. He didn’t move or try to get away.

“Let’s try this again,” she said as she surfaced with him, using her other hand to grab the cuffs on his wrists. No way he was slipping out of his jacket and trying to get away.

She expected some kicking and thrashing right away and then pleading and debating once they were out of the water. To her surprise, the first part didn’t happen. But he also didn’t get to his feet, even though they were close enough to shore. She grabbed the front of his jacket. He was limp in her hold. She dragged him to shore, his feet still in the water.

There was a bright red wound in his chest, still bleeding. He’d been shot.

Confused, wondering if he’d taken his rifle and shot himself for one long moment, Bonnie dragged him further up on the shore. She checked his pulse—there was none. He was dead.

“I need immediate response from an EMS unit,” she shouted into the radio. “Our suspect has been shot. No pulse.”

“We’ll get someone to you as soon as they can,” Rufus shouted back.

“I can’t stay with him,” she returned, looking at the inferno the woods on the island had become. “Any word from Harvey?”

“Negative,” Rufus said. “If you can get in there and do any good, I’d say leave Hoy and do what you can. It doesn’t sound like he’s going anywhere.”

Bonnie got her gear together and put on a mask to protect her lungs from the heated smoke. They didn’t carry scuba gear as the fire department did, but it should be enough. There was no point in her trying to get in the burning zone. The animals that had survived would be long gone.

She called Harvey as she bagged two possums. She left them on the shore where she could easily put them in the boat and get away quickly if needed. There was no response from her partner. She hoped he hadn’t gone in too close to the center of the fire.

Several raccoons ran out, and she put on her heavy gloves to pick them up. They were almost overcome with smoke, so they were docile. Again she left them where she could grab them on the way out.

There was a gunshot that brought her head up from what she was doing. It was loud, probably a shotgun, to be heard over the roar of the fire. She called Harvey again. There was still no response. A group of rabbits were directly in her path. She scooped them up and ran back to the shore with them.

Despite wanting to save as many animals as she could, she had to go after Harvey. As far as she knew, he was the only one on the island with a gun. It could be that Ray Hoy had a hunting partner. She watched a hundred ducks fly away from the trees, some with their feathers smoking, but they seemed all right if they could make shore on the other side of the lake.

“Harvey?” she yelled against the force of the strong wind generated by the fire. She followed the path that led along the shore. He couldn’t be in the woods. There was no point in searching for him there. She saw a dozen field mice get to safety floating on a piece of wood.

She used the radio again and again, calling to her partner. He didn’t reply. When she found him face down at the edge of the woods, she knew why. Rushing to him, she turned him over.

There was a bullet wound in his head. There was no point in checking for a pulse. Harvey was dead.

An animal growled at her—a young wolf. His coat was covered in sand where he must have rolled to put out the fire on his fur. He’d been burned. His eyes were glued on her, watching her every move. There was also blood on his side, as though he’d cut himself in his haste to get away.

She called Rufus to confirm Harvey’s death and gave him specific details on where he could be found. Though she knew she shouldn’t do it and some medical examiner would have her head, Bonnie moved his body to the edge of the water so there was no danger of him being burned. She hadn’t known him long, but common decency dictated that she preserve his body as well as she could for his family. The crime scene was a mess anyway. She was willing to take the lumps for her actions.

Dozens of small animals still streamed out of the woods toward the water. Two skunks waddled by. She was grateful that they were in too much of a hurry to raise their tails. One long black snake slithered close to the water then backed away before taking the plunge. He followed a zigzag pattern along the edge until she couldn’t see him anymore.

The wolf was still in the same place, not even ten yards from where she was beside Harvey. He looked hungry. His body was thin and his eyes ferocious. He wasn’t growling anymore. She thought he might not have the strength for it. If he was weak to begin with, he might be in shock. Normally a single wolf, especially a pup, would run off when he saw a human.

Finally the smaller boat that had come with the fire brigade reached her. The medical examiner wasn’t with the two firemen who were unknown to her, but they insisted that they had permission to move the body.