Page 73 of Playing With Fire

“Can I come out to the retirement village with you? Gramps says it’s still got police tape around the shed.”

He shook his head. “No, sorry. It would be worth my job if anyone, aka Bonnie Browning, sees you inspecting the site with me in tow. And I’m not done here just yet.”

Jodi tapped her nails on the table. She thought about work and the growing list of chores waiting at the office. The newspaper owners, not surprisingly, needed to be reassured that the city wasn’t about to sue the shirts off their backs, and a couple of regular advertisers were grumbling about bad publicity.

And yet this was the biggest story in town since the pandemic. And, as Dougie had misquoted, sometimes you had to publish and be damned.

“How about I turn up unexpectedly after you’ve done your fire investigator thing?” she suggested. “The local reporter taking photos and looking for comment. It would be weird if I didn’t.”

“True.” There was a definite twinkle in Ricky’s eyes. “I know it’s the weekend, but with the Chief hauling the boys in on Monday, I need anything I can find right now.”

Jodi nodded. “That’s perfect. I normally visit Gramps Saturday morning and bring his shopping.” Memory nudged her, and she pulled out her phone.

“I’ve got Alma this weekend too. Saturday is her play therapy with her mom and the family counsellor, and I promised she could help me do the shopping afterwards. My grandfather is teaching her to play chess.”

Jodi pulled up a photo from her phone, showing the elderly minister and the slightly built child leaning over the chess board.

“You will both miss Alma when she goes.” Ricky’s voice was gentle.

Jodi’s eyes prickled.

“Yes,” she said finally. “That little girl has had a tough life, and she’s flourished with the Beechams.” Jodi’s voice turned wistful. “Sometimes I wonder why the county can’t simply let things be. Surely that...woman, her mom... has lost her chance at being a mother. It’s none of my business, but...Alma was as happy as pie at the rectory, and then her mom decides she wants her child back. Like a blood link is stronger than the loving family Alma has found.”

Ricky grunted. There was a faraway look in his eye.

“What does Alma want? Does she get a say?”

Jodi took a deep breath.

“Of course she does,” she said ruefully, meeting his eyes. “She wants her mom.”

Chapter Twelve

Jodi checked Alma’s seat belt and then the contents of her bulging tote. Camera, plastic gloves, Ziploc plastic bags, her tattered notebook, water bottles, a spare jacket for Alma, new library books for Gramps, plus some homemade cookies which Dougie had surprised her by leaving on her desk.

Jodi figured it was either guilt or a bribe. And if the home baking was supposed to impress her with Dougie’s diverse talents, then she counted herself as impressed.

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