Page 45 of A Spot of Trouble
Griff glanced back and forth between Violet and Sam. “What exactly happened in here?”
Sam took a deep breath and then bent to pick something up off the floor—Violet’s little culinary torch, which had indeed turned out to be an incendiary device. He held it up and arched an accusatory brow.
A chorus of gasps followed, and only then did Violet notice the crowd of people hovering around the doorway. Senior citizens, sunburned tourists, and any and all manner of bingo enthusiasts gaped at Violet in abject horror. Ethel, Opal, and Mavis were right up front, shaking their heads in dismay.
“Violet, dear,” Mavis said, “might you have accidentally set Marshal Nash on fire?”
Violet’s throat went thick. Something told her there was definitely another pink citation coming her way.
***
An hour later—after Sam and Griff had cleaned every last trace of dry powder from the fire extinguisher out of Barbara Nichols’ office and after Hazel the librarian had offered to give Sam mouth-to-mouth even though he was fully upright and the only part of him that had been touched by fire had been his shirt sleeve—Sam sat alongside Griff at a worn wooden picnic table at the end of the Salty Dog Pier. A small cooler full of frosted bottles of beer sat between them, along with two brown paper bags containing Turtle Beach’s most treasured delicacy: boiled peanuts.
Frankly, damp nuts of any kind hadn’t sounded at all appetizing to Sam. But Griff wouldn’t take no for an answer. Crazily enough, he’d been right. They were delicious. Maybe there was hope for Sam becoming a true Turtle Beach local after all.
Did hewantto become an actual islander, though? Sam’s determination to start a new life in Turtle Beach was beginning to waver. Something about being set on fire at bingo night had given him serious pause.
“You sure you’re all right, bro?” Griff took a long pull from his beer.
“Fine. I told you, I’m not even burned,” Sam said.
He would, however, be pitching his uniform shirt in the trash. It was probably still wearable, but he didn’t particularly want a scorched reminder of his mortifying lapse of judgment.
What’s the worst that could happen?
He’d tempted fate by asking himself that very question. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine he’d end up in flames.
“You sure? I noticed you keep flexing your fist.” Griff waved a peanut shell in the direction of Sam’s right hand.
“Writer’s cramp,” Sam said through gritted teeth.
After the disastrous kiss he’d shared with Violet and the chaos that followed, bingo night had proceeded as usual. As the caller yelled out letter and number combinations, Sam had written out half a dozen additional citations to Violet. Overkill? Perhaps, according to Griff.
Sam disagreed. Vehemently. She’d set himon fire. If that wasn’t worthy of a stack of pink tickets and a few hefty fines, Sam didn’t know what was.
“Writer’s cramp.” Griff snorted. “That’s pretty funny.”
Sam wasn’t amused in the slightest. He sighed and tossed a peanut to one of the seagulls swooping and diving overhead.
“Don’t you think you were a little hard on her, though? I know she’s the one who started the fire, but she’s also the one who put it out.” Griff shot Sam a meaningful look.
He was right, of course—which was the most upsetting part of the entire ridiculous ordeal. Sam had been so caught up in their kiss that he hadn’t even noticed what was happening around him. Once he finally did, he’d just stood there. Paralyzed.
What the heck waswrongwith him?
Maybe he needed to talk to someone, like he had back in Chicago. Maybe moving to a desk job in a small town hadn’t been enough—maybe he should have left firefighting altogether and pursued something different. Something safe.
But what? Sam wouldn’t know what to do with a life that didn’t involve firefighting. Itmeantsomething to him. It always had.
“Yeah, she did,” Sam said.
“You know I would have done it, but she got to the fire extinguisher first.” Griff shook his head. “Who would have thought?”
Not Sam, that’s for sure.
Cinder leaned her warm, spotted form against his leg. Since they were off the clock, Sam offered her a peanut. Her black nose twitched, but she refused to take it.
She’s worried about me.Sam swallowed. Even his own dog knew he was in trouble.
