Page 7 of Betting on Lizzie

Maya looked at Lizzie. “Thank you,” she said. “I thought he just wanted to make out. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Let’s go,” Lizzie said. She loaded the girls into her car and took them back to her place. A stern lecture on the perils of underage drinking was in their immediate future. But tomorrow. It was too late tonight.

After making them each drink a bottle of water, she put them to bed in the guest room. Exhausted, she took a quick shower to wash away the day, then fell into bed.

She’d barely drifted off when “Red Red Wine” blaring from her phone woke her. The caller ID showed an unknown number.

“This better be good,” she mumbled.

“Elizabeth Parker?” a man’s voice asked.

“Yes.”

“You own The Drop on Main Street?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Who’s this?”

“New Bern FR. We need you to come down here right away.”

“Fire department? What’s going on?” she asked.

“Your bar’s on fire.”

She sat, suddenly wide awake. “I’ll be right there.”

After checking on Bella and her friend, she scribbled a note telling them she’d gone to the bar in case they woke up and realized she wasn’t there. Charlie barely budged from his bed in the living room as she slipped out the door.

By the time she arrived, the fire had been extinguished, but long trails of smoky gray lingered, drifting slowly into the air. Her dreams turned to rubble. She parked in the back alley next to a fire truck. The rear door had burned away, and the bricks around and above it dripped a wet, black sludge.

It was hard to evaluate with just one dull streetlight, but it looked like most of the damage had been contained to The Drop. The two offices that flanked Lizzie’s bar seemed relatively unscathed. Good news for her neighbors at least.

She gave her information to the firefighters, who told her she wouldn’t be allowed in until after the fire inspector did his thing and gave the all-clear.

“What could have caused it?” she asked. “Did we leave the grill on?”

“I’m not the final say,” the fireman said, “but it appears to have started at the bar itself and there’s evidence of an accelerant.”

“Wait. You mean someone set it? Used gas or something?” Lizzie gasped. Who would want to burn her bar?

The man shrugged. “There will be an investigation.”

That’s all he had to say? “How do you catch the person who did it? Won’t all the evidence be burned?”

“Up to the fire inspector to figure out. We’ll tape off the scene. No one in or out until he does his eval. It’s a weekend, but they’ll call him out in the morning. Better light once the sun comes up.”

“So, what do I do?”

“Go home. Get some sleep. Someone will call once you’re allowed in.”

Go home? And sleep? Not likely. She muttered her thanks and trudged back to her Jeep. It was almost five am by the time she climbed into bed again. She tried but failed to sleep. Near dawn, she realized it wasn’t happening and got up.

After amending her note to Bella, she left again, heading to The Drip 1.0. That way, once she was allowed into the bar, she’d be right across the street.

As soon as she thought her family might be awake, she announced the news in the family group chat. Which immediately and thoroughly blew up. Everyone texted at once, asking questions, demanding answers, and, of course, offering opinions and suggestions.

She parked herself at a table by the window, giving herself a perfect view of The Drop’s front door. As the sun came up, she sipped coffee, scrolled the internet for what to do after a fire, and kept an eye on her bar.

While the damage from the rear looked catastrophic, from the front entrance, there was hardly any indication there’d been a fire at all. Just faint black smudges above the door where smoke must have escaped.

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