The Beekeeper's Daughter

Will nodded. He’d have liked to get back in his van and head to town for a shower and a cold beer. Except the captain, directing the mop-up, kept glancing his way. He sighed. The evening wasn’t going to end any time soon.

But things moved quickly once the remaining embers had been doused. The firefighters worked silently as they put away their equipment. Will recalled all too well the mood after a fire. The first rush of anxiety on arrival at a blaze led rapidly to a routine polished by practice and real-life runs. Save lives, then save property. Afterward, the relief was always muted by the realization of loss and suffering.

The captain finished his conversation with Warren Lewis and his wife and headed in Will’s direction. He’d removed his helmet and the balaclava beneath it, his face and forehead slick with perspiration. He leaned against the tanker truck beside Will and, taking a handkerchief from his coat pocket, wiped his face. Then he withdrew a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Will.

“No thanks.”

Lighting up, the captain took a long draw, releasing the smoke slowly before speaking again. “I’m Scott Andrews, by the way.”

“Yeah. Warren told me.”

“Appreciate the help, Jennings. Especially manning the portatank.” He took another drag on his cigarette before adding, “Warren said you’re a firefighter.”

“Was,” Will corrected. “In New Jersey.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I gotta say, I figured you knew something about fires. Most civvies would’ve been trying to put out the barn with the garden hose.”

Will didn’t say anything.

“Sorry for the initial suspicion,” Andrews went on, “but we’ve had a few barn fires in the area lately. Any stranger needs checking out—especially one so conveniently on the scene.”

“I’d have done the same, in your place.”

Andrews looked at him. “On a leave of some kind?” His eyes flicked from Will’s eyes to his scar.

“Nope. Quit.”

“You get that in a fire?”

No beating around the bush with the guy. Still, his bluntness was refreshing. It reminded him of Annie’s question earlier in the day. He nodded. “Yeah.”

Andrews fell silent, finishing his cigarette. Will waited until the other man finally asked, “Where were you coming from? This road is hardly a main highway.”

“I was visiting Ambrosia Apiaries, not far from here. Then I went to some campsite—I don’t remember the name—to see if I could stay there for the night. No one was around so I was heading into Essex.” Will took a deep breath. “Mind if I go now? It’s getting late.”

“You a friend of the Collins family?”

Will sighed. The guy had obviously missed his calling. He should’ve been a cop. “I’m on a road trip and was driving through the valley when I saw the apiary sign. I was curious. I had a tour of the place and as I was leaving, Annie told me about the campsite.”

Andrews stared at him for a long tense moment. “Like I said, I appreciate your help. And so does Warren. He had an antique harvester in there. Good thing you were around to keep him from getting hurt going after it.”

The compliment must’ve meant he’d decided to accept his story. Will rubbed his face, wondering if it was as sooty as the captain’s. “Look, if you don’t mind, I should be finding a place for the night. Right now a shower and a cold beer are all I’m interested in.”

Andrews smiled. “You’n me both. As a matter of fact, one of my men owns that campsite. He’s at home sick today, but I can give him a call.”

Will considered the offer for a moment, but hot water and a frosty ale were too irresistible. “Thanks, but for tonight I’d rather be in town. Maybe I could get his name and number from you though, in case I decide to stick around?”

“Sure. Hang on for a sec. I need to talk to Warren.” He walked to where the couple stood staring at their ruined barn.

Will waited by his van. He was worn out. Just pumping out the tanker had left him exhausted—a sign he had yet to recoup his strength since the accident. He saw the captain gesture toward what was left of the barn as he spoke to Warren. No doubt the local fire marshal would have to come take a look, especially if there’d been an outbreak of fires in the area.

He frowned, thinking of Annie Collins running the apiary alone while her father was away. Then he shrugged the thought aside. Whatever was happening in Garden Valley was no business of his. Anyway, more than likely the perp was simply some troubled or bored teenager.

Andrews came back, a grim expression on his face. “Warren was just telling me he decided to drop the insurance on the barn a few months back. He was using it basically as a storage shed and the premiums were getting higher every year so…” He shook his head. “Damn bad luck.”

“So you think it was arson?”

“Oh yeah. One of my men found an empty gasoline canister in the bushes over there that Warren says isn’t his.”

“The same person who’s been setting the other fires?”

“We won’t know for sure till the marshal’s had a look around, but my guess is a yes. Why is another big question.”

“Someone obsessed with fires?”

“Possibly, but here? In Garden Valley?”

Maybe Andrews considered the valley some kind of Eden but personally, Will was a bit more skeptical. Life so far had convinced him paradise existed more in the imagination than the real world. “So what other reasons have you been tossing around?” he asked.

Andrews absently patted down his jacket pocket before pulling out his pack of cigarettes again. He offered one to Will, who shook his head. “Oh yeah, sorry. Forgot. I have to quit—so the doctor says. I’ve been having some angina.” He took a long draw, blowing out the smoke in a satisfied sigh. “I promised the wife this would be my last pack.”

“That you bought? Or borrowed?”

Andrews gave a sheepish grin. “Right. I’ve been working on that. Anyway, at first we thought the fires were part of some kind of insurance fraud thing. Couple of the farmers were really down and out—on the verge of bankruptcy. But then about a week ago, one of the most prosperous outfits in the area lost its hay barn.” He took another drag on the cigarette. A sprinkle of embers from its tip flew into the air with the evening breeze.

Will had a sudden vision of calling back the trucks, this time to put out a blaze started by the captain. “No pattern to the victims then?”

“None we can see. Except all of the barns and sheds have been used for storage or whatever. No animals.”

Interesting. The perp has a heart? “When did the fires begin?”

Andrews shrugged. “About three months ago. It took a while for us to realize we had a serial arsonist at work.”

“Serial arsonist? That doesn’t sound like teenagers.”

“Could be, though. You know—one with serious problems.” Andrews finished off the cigarette and carefully ground the butt into the earth with the heel of his boot. “You ever encountered a serial arsonist?’

“Can’t say I have. The only arsonists I’ve met were hired.”

“I thought of that, too, along with the possible insurance fraud. But the one thing every victim had in common was a different insurance company. Or, like poor Warren here, no insurance at all.”

“Poor guy,” Will muttered.

“No kidding. Anyway, knowing folks in the valley, there’ll be a barn-raising organized before the end of summer. Okay, that’s it for me,” said Andrews with a loud sigh. “I’m beat. You wanna follow me? There’s a pretty decent motel about five miles this side of Essex.”

“Sounds good,” Will said.

“Motel’s got a sports bar attached.”

“Better still.” He turned to open the van door, but caught Andrews’s appraising stare.

“Too bad you’re not planning on hanging around a bit. I could use some big-city expertise on this.”

This meaning the fires, Will assumed. How could he let the captain know fighting fires was the last thing he wanted to do? Did the man think the sheen of sweat on Will’s face had been put there by the fire’s heat?

Something in Will’s face must have been answer enough for Andrews. “Oh well, can’t blame a guy for trying.” He signaled to one of his men, who began to climb behind the wheel of the fire engine. “Give us a sec to turn the truck around and we’ll lead you right to Traveler’s Way Motel.”

Will could just as easily have found the motel himself, but the gesture was meant to be hospitable. He got into the van and watched the engine reverse until its nose was aimed toward the main road. As he followed, Will glanced in his rearview mirror. Warren Lewis and his wife were still standing arm in arm, staring at the black, crumbled beams and timbers that had once been their barn.

ANNIE’S RELIEF was palpable. Jack had just been wheeled out of surgery and everything had gone well.

“I know he’ll be asking me when you’re coming to visit,” Shirley said on the other end of the line. “Have you decided yet?”

“Soon,” Annie said. “I called Auntie Isobel after you left yesterday and I’m going to stay with her. Did the doctor mention how long Dad might be in the hospital?”

“There’s a rehabilitation center nearby that will have a bed for him in a couple of days. The doctor said maybe a few days there to get started on a program and then he’d be able to go home.” Shirley’s sigh resonated along the phone line.

“Are you worried if he comes home too soon, he’ll want to get right back to work?”

“Of course. You know how stubborn your father can be, Annie.”

Tell me about it. “I thought you planned to stay on a bit longer in Charlotte—to visit your cousins.”

“That was the plan but last night Jack was hinting quite strongly that he wanted to get back to Garden Valley as soon as possible.” Another sigh.

“He may not feel the same once he tries to get up on his feet. I’m sure you can persuade him to stay a few days after the rehab center.”

“I hope so. Anyway, dear, can I give him some kind of timeline?”

Annie hadn’t thought that far ahead. She had to call Danny McLean to let him know she’d be away and to discuss the work he’d be doing in her absence. “I’m not sure. I’ll call you later tonight or tomorrow morning to let you know. Give Dad a kiss for me, okay?”

After hanging up, Annie sat staring at the phone. Since receiving the letter yesterday, going to Charlotte had suddenly taken on a whole other meaning. Auntie Isobel would be expecting her to have made a decision about contacting the adoption agency while she was there. Her father likely wanted her to come as soon as possible, bringing mail as well as news about the business and Garden Valley. The walls were closing in.

She pushed her chair back and took her empty coffee cup to the sink. The day promised to be bright and sunny, but she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for it. She’d impulsively given herself a deadline of the next morning at the latest and saw no way out of it. Going to Charlotte also meant having to make a decision about her daughter.

If she started down that path this early, she’d never get through the day. There was shopping to do in town and she wanted to check on the new hive she’d set up in the Vanderhoff orchard yesterday.

Was it only yesterday that the firefighter from New Jersey had arrived on her doorstep? She smiled to herself. Will Jennings had flashed across her mind enough last night to make her want answers to several questions.

Such as, what was her attraction to a quiet, almost solemn man with a scarred face and an obviously traumatic past? Was her life so empty that she was compelled to fill it with some crush on a complete stranger? Annie grimaced. She had no answer for the first question but the second—well, how much longer could she delude herself about the so-called life she’d had since returning to Garden Valley?

In the beginning, the plan had been to stay long enough for her father to find a replacement worker for Pete, the hired hand who’d retired. Annie had been grateful for the excuse. It sounded a whole lot better than admitting to friends and colleagues in New York that her fiancé had jilted her. In fact, she’d quickly come up with the line that her wedding to Jim had to be postponed because of family reasons. And Annie knew the very best place to recuperate from the pain of the breakup was Garden Valley.

What she hadn’t realized until she’d come home, was how badly her father needed help. She still couldn’t believe how quickly a few weeks had rolled into a year. Her life in New York—teaching, her friends and even Jim—was now a distant memory.

Inexplicably, and against all reason, she hoped Will Jennings had stayed. Seeing him one more time just might guarantee a better day.

CHAPTER FIVE

ANNIE WAS ABOUT TO climb back into the cab of the pickup when Marge Vanderhoff’s voice halted her midstep.

“Heard that friend of yours helped save Warren Lewis’s farm last night.” At the farmhouse back door, Marge loomed on the other side of the screen mesh.

“Huh?” Annie asked, her eyebrows raised.

“That fella who came with you yesterday to get the bees.”

She was talking about Will? “What happened?”

Marge stepped out onto the small porch. “Fern Lewis said the fella—what was his name again?”

“Will Jennings.”

“Seems he told Captain Andrews that he’d been visiting the apiary, so when I heard that, I put two and two together and figured it must’ve been him they were talking about. Anyhow,” Marge went on, “this Will Jennings was driving by the Lewis place when he noticed smoke coming from the barn.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“No, thank heavens. The fella told Warren he was a real firefighter and Captain Andrews said he did all the right things.”

What must it have been like for him to have to deal with another fire? She glanced up, realizing that Marge was waiting for her to respond. “Does the captain think it’s the same person who’s been setting the other fires in the valley?”

“Word’s out until the fire marshal investigates.”

The idea of someone creeping about the valley setting fires unnerved Annie. This blaze was too close to home. It wasn’t the best time to leave the apiary untended.

“By the way,” Marge said, “have you had news of your father yet?”

“I talked to Shirley about half an hour ago. He’s fine. Everything went well.”

“That’s great. Any idea when he’ll be coming home?”

“Tomorrow, if he had his way.”

Marge laughed. “That’d be your dad all right. But they don’t keep them in the hospital long anymore, do they?”

“No. Shirley’s hoping she can persuade him to take some vacation time in Charlotte.”

Marge’s laugh deepened. “Good luck to her!”

Annie’s smile felt forced. She pictured herself and her father driving back together, while Shirley stayed in Charlotte. If he got wind of this latest fire, so close to the apiary, he wouldn’t even consider recuperating longer.

Marge must have made a similar connection. Suddenly sober she asked, “You going to be okay staying at the apiary on your own?”

Annie gave a dismissive wave. “Of course. Besides, the thing with all of these fires is that no people or animals have been hurt.” She paused, adding, “It’s almost as if the places have been chosen for that very reason.”

“Still, accidents can happen.”

“Hmm,” Annie murmured, thinking of Will. “Look, I have to go into town. Want me to pick up anything for you?”

“Thanks, dear, but I have to go in later myself. You take care and give our love to your daddy when you’re talking to him.”

Annie promised and climbed into the truck. As she turned over the engine, she realized she hadn’t mentioned she might be seeing her father in a day or two. If she had to leave the apiary, it would be good to have the Vanderhoffs keep an eye on it. On the other hand, it might also be better if no one knew she was away and the apiary untended.

On her way into town, it occurred to her that if Will had spotted the fire, he must’ve been heading away from the campsite. Presumably he’d decided not to stay there after all.

No doubt Will Jennings was driving out of the valley at that very moment and that was a good thing. Wasn’t it?

THE CAMPER VAN stuck out like a parent at a high school prom. It sat in a far corner of the parking lot behind the Red and White Grocery Store, surrounded by an assortment of cars, SUVs and pickup trucks. Annie spotted it as soon as she turned into the lot and almost sideswiped an exiting car. Her heart rate surged, which she blamed on the near accident rather than the sight of Will Jennings’ van.

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