Twenty-three

I sat up in bed and hoped it had all been a bad dream. Nope. I was in Pop’s house. That meant everything was horribly real. Crap.

Fire trucks and Sean’s cruiser had arrived moments after the explosion. By the time Pop and the folks at the center had tromped over to see the excitement, the fire had been extinguished. After several real fires, our firefighters really knew what they were doing. Practice really does make perfect.

I pulled off the cocktail dress I’d slept in and grabbed the robe hanging on the back of the door. The fake satin had faded to barely pink and the lace trim was coming off, but it did the trick.

Barefoot, I headed to the bathroom. Flipping on the light switch, I choked back a scream. My face had a gray, smoky quality to it. My hair looked like it had been styled with a blender. Rolling up my sleeves, I noticed the faded outline of a sooty handprint. It was from Max.

Max had grabbed my arm the minute Sean and Sheriff Jackson arrived at the scene. It took me a minute to realize he’d been talking to me. I was having a hard time focusing on anything other than the hole in the side of my mother’s beloved rink.

“My film. I need to finish my film. You understand that. You’ll take care of the film until I have a chance to come get it. This movie needs to be seen.”

Sean raced over with his gun drawn. Finally, it was pointed at a bad guy. A very confused bad guy. He pushed a couple of DVDs into my hands just as Sean grabbed him. A few minutes later, he was trussed up in handcuffs.

“Making a movie isn’t a crime,” Max cried as Sean dragged him to the cruiser and stuffed him in. “Once the movie is edited and the right people see it, I’ll be famous. Even my father will see it. He’ll understand how important this is to me. Wait. This is a mistake.”

A mistake that had landed me at Pop’s for the night. Now that I was scrubbed clean, I went back to my bedroom and pulled on the shorts and tank top that had magically appeared in my absence. Then I followed my nose downstairs in search of coffee.

“There she is.” Pop gave me a toothy grin. “I wanted to wake you up, but Lionel said we should let you sleep off the excitement. Last night was a real humdinger.”

Lionel stood next to the kitchen sink, holding out a mug. I grabbed it and sucked the contents down. I held out the empty mug and Lionel refilled it.

“Okay, what happened while I slept?”

Pop’s eyes danced. “The phone has been ringing off the hook. Your insurance agent is going to meet us at the rink in a half hour to do an assessment of the damage and start your claim. Then Sean Holmes called.”

“Is he pissed at me?”

Pop cocked his head to the side. “Why would he be? I thought the two of you put away your differences. It looked that way from the stage.”

“Last night wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It looked like Lionel here tried to make you jealous with Betsy Moore. You decided to get even with him by making a spectacle of yourself with Sean.”

Okay, it was exactly what it looked like.

“If Sean doesn’t want to arrest me, what does he want?”

“Your statement,” Lionel said, passing over a DiBekla Bakery box. “You were a little overwrought about the rink last night. He thought it’d be best to wait until you got some rest. I can give him a call and ask him to meet us at the rink.” His eyes told me he would also tell Sean to go to hell if I needed more time.

I blew a lock of hair out of my eyes. “Go ahead and call him.” I armed myself with two chocolate croissants from the box. “Let’s get this over with.”

*   *   *

“Well, you were lucky the blast didn’t do any structural damage.” Aaron, my insurance agent, wrote something down on his clipboard and gave me a smile.

I tried to smile back. I was finding it hard to think I was lucky while looking at a seven-by-five-foot hole in the back side of my rink. Bricks, assorted car and lighting parts, and a bunch of other odds and ends were scattered all over the asphalt.

The sounds of kids laughing during their morning skating lessons made me smile for real. George had taken one look at the hole and grabbed some police tape and a couple of folding chairs. He then blocked off what he considered an appropriate amount of rink space to ensure patron safety and plastered a big OPEN sign outside. It was probably a huge safety-code violation, but the three-piece-suit-wearing Aaron hadn’t shut us down. If he didn’t, no one else would.

“I’ll send in my assessment, along with the police report about the explosion and about the break-in last week.”

“Why the break-in?” Pop asked. He had added a hard hat to his ensemble of a tight white T-shirt and jeans. I thought he looked like a member of the Village People. He thought he looked macho.

Agent Aaron jotted a few more notes. “Oh, insurance companies are famous for holding things up if a member of the staff was involved in the claim.” My stomach rolled. Aaron must have noticed my discomfort, because he added, “Don’t worry. Deputy Holmes told me your manager already confessed to stealing the key from your grandfather.”

I thanked the agent, watched him walk away, and heard a throat clear behind me. Sean.

Lionel was leaning against a holeless part of the rink, a small smile on his face. Perfect.

“I know you’re tired, but I need to get your statement. Do you want to do this inside?”

Sean was back to his nice-cop routine today.

“Here is fine.” Getting it over with was better. I walked Sean through the events of the week, finishing with last night’s explosion. He asked a couple of questions but mainly let me do the talking. When I was done, I asked, “Was Max in the diner the night my father came to town? None of the people I talked to mentioned having seen him.”

“He was there to order takeout but never got around to it. Your dad started talking about his car, and Max headed for the door.”

Made sense. Clayton had mentioned a guy waiting behind him for takeout. It must have been Max. I didn’t know why, but I felt better tying up that loose end. I also learned the rest of the crew had been camping out ten miles outside of town, which was why none of the gossips had reported seeing them.

“How’s Max holding up?” Pop asked. “The kid is completely unhinged, but he was fun to hang out with.”

Sean shrugged. “Max is fine. He’s made a full confession, and his dad is talking to some new lawyer in town, hoping the guy will represent him. The fact that Max verified that all cars were insured before he blew them up might help him get a lighter sentence. You never know.”

“Will you charge him with Kurt Bachman’s murder? I heard Doc thought Kurt was knocked unconscious before the car was engulfed in flames.” I left Eleanor’s name out of it. Protecting my sources was important to me.

“It wasn’t murder. Turned out the guy had a bad heart. According to Max, Kurt was supposed to light a fuse, then get out, so he could be filmed running away from the car as the car exploded. The fuse must have been shorter than the one that Max and Kurt used for the practice explosion.”

Ah, that explained the dummy in the car. They’d only been practicing the first time. Too bad for everyone that practice in this case didn’t make perfect.

“Doc figures Kurt panicked when the car exploded early. His blood pressure shot up and he knocked his head on the steering wheel when he lost consciousness. Max and his two cameramen might have figured that out if they’d actually checked the car, but they panicked when Kurt didn’t get out of the car as planned.”

Made sense. Except for one thing. “I never saw Max and the crew.”

“You were probably too busy looking at the fire to notice them driving off in the vans they had parked at the other end of the field. Max said they parked far away from the site to keep the scene free of unnecessary obstructions. He didn’t want to take the chance of ruining the shot, since they had only one take to get it right.”

A man was still dead, but hearing it was an accident made me feel better. It was nice to know I hadn’t hired a murderer.

“Oh, Max wanted me to remind you to keep his film safe until he gets out.” Sean snapped his book shut and shot a strange, almost confrontational look at Lionel. “I’ll drop by a copy of this later after Roxy types it up. Let me know if you need anything. I’d be happy to keep an eye on the place tonight. Don’t want looters to take advantage.”

“Already got that covered.” Pop gave me a big grin. “Jimmy and a couple of the guys are bringing their lawn chairs and a cooler. They’ll keep an eye out until the hole gets boarded up. Jimmy figures he owes you for finding his car.”

If Pop was looking for another explosion, he was going to be disappointed. Sean didn’t take the bait. He just gave my arm a squeeze and said a pleasant good-bye.

Pop slapped his hands together. “Well, I gotta get going. I promised to drop by the center. The talent agent from last night is stopping by to talk to me and the band about setting up some gigs.”

I winced. “You’re taking the band from your garage?”

“God no. They were awful. No, I’m playing with Hermanos Mariachi now. Their instruments arrived COD this morning. Stan moved heaven and earth to get them here and then didn’t have the cash to foot the bill. Since they’re my band now, I fronted the money.”

I groaned. “Are you sure that was a good idea? How do you know Stan isn’t going to skip town?”

“He doesn’t have a car.” Pop flashed a big grin. “I made him agree to be the band’s tour manager. I get his cut of the profits for as long as it takes to get the loan paid off. Then he’ll start making money. He’s a pretty good salesman, and he’s motivated. Oh, and he’s moving back in with me so I can keep an eye on him. That man needs supervision.”

Pop strutted away singing “Viva Las Vegas,” leaving me staring after him, stunned.

Lionel pushed away from the wall. He crossed over to me, leaned down, and lightly touched his lips to mine. I had unresolved anger issues with him, but right now there were too many other problems for those to really matter. Tomorrow would be another story.

Hand in hand, we walked to the front of the rink.

“Rebecca!” Danielle’s voice rang out. “I just heard about the rink.”

The minute I spotted her walking down the sidewalk, I knew why she hadn’t heard the explosion last night. Danielle was wearing a lovely summer dress with a modest neckline and calf-length hem, along with tiny heels. A large diamond ring sparkled on her left hand.

“You and Rich got engaged?”

She nodded, and I gave her an enthusiastic hug.

“What happened? You were getting ready to break up with him.”

Her cheeks colored. She shot a look at Lionel, as if assessing how much to say. “Right. Well, last night I finally asked Rich if he was attracted to me. I said I didn’t want to be in a relationship where the attraction was only one-sided. That’s when he popped the question and begged me to marry him before he burned in hell for impure thoughts! Getting close to me was making it hard for him to feel virtuous on Sundays. So he was keeping me at arm’s length until he could make a romantic proposal. Guess I blew that.”

Danielle looked so proud, I had to laugh. “When’s the wedding?”

“Soon. Very soon.”

“Rebecca! Yoo hoo!”

Crap. I turned to see Doreen getting out of her car.

“Your grandfather told me I’d find you here. I’m so sorry about the rink, dear. To think your rink manager was to blame for the damage. It’s such a shame.”

Shame wasn’t the word I’d have used. “Did you need to talk about something?”

“Well, I don’t know how to say this, but I talked to the buyer this morning. I had to tell him about the little problem you had last night. I felt terrible because my loyalty is to you and your mother, but…”

A dull ache began to build behind my eyes. “I understand, Doreen. You were doing your job.”

Doreen sighed. “There’s no good way to say this. With a hole in the rink and your manager in jail, well, the buyer has pulled out of the deal. I tried to talk him out of it, but there was nothing I could do.”

I waited for a wave of panic to hit, for that feeling like the walls were closing in. Nothing. Huh. Maybe I’d been expecting the news. Then again, it could just be that I was on overload. I was sure I’d hit the roof and start cursing the fates when the shock wore off.

“Rebecca?” Danielle said softly. “This might not be the right thing for me to say. But since you’re going to be in town awhile longer, would you be my maid of honor?”

I looked at the rink. A family of five came out of the front doors, smiling. Because of the rink’s new window, I could hear the sounds of the Hokey Pokey playing from inside. I looked at Danielle, who was oozing happiness out of every pore. Lionel stood behind her, studying me with look that said he’d be happy to forget our fight and get right to the making-up part.

Maybe the explosion had been a message. Maybe I was supposed to think about keeping the rink and staying in Indian Falls.

I shook off the thought with a laugh. “Sure, I’d love to be your maid of honor.”

Danielle was a great friend. Besides, until the rink got fixed and I could sell it, what else was I going to do?