Page 51 of A Spot of Trouble
Griff shrugged. “It’s one of the ladies from the senior center. She asked for you personally—something to do with the sprinkler system.”
Sam relaxed ever so slightly. “I’ve got it, thanks.”
“Sure thing,” Griff said.
Sam picked up the phone and punched the button with the blinking red light. “Sam Nash.”
“Hi, Marshal Nash. This is Ethel Banks. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m one of the residents at the senior center.”
“I remember,” Sam said. If memory served, Ethel was one of Violet’s trio of friends…not that Sam was thinking about Violet. “Is everything okay down there, Mrs. Banks?”
“Oh, dear. You can call me Ethel. Everyone does,” she tittered.
Sam leaned forward and planted his elbows on his desk. “Okay, then, Ethel. What can I do for you this morning?”
“It’s the fire sprinklers. They need to be inspected.” Ethel cleared her throat. “Right now.”
Sam frowned to himself. She needed an emergency sprinkler inspection? Something didn’t sound quite right. “Are the sprinklers going off right now?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” She paused for a beat. “I’m not sure exactly. But you should probably get down here immediately. You’re coming, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said. He’d wanted to keep busy, hadn’t he?Be careful what you wish for.“I’ll be right there.”
“Perfect. Oh, and Sam?”
“Yes?”
“Make sure you bring that sweet spotted dog of yours,” she said. “And hurry!”
Now Sam was really confused. Why would it be necessary for Cinder to accompany him on an emergency sprinkler inspection?
Never mind. He wasn’t even going to ask. What difference did it make? He never went anywhere without his dog.
“Will do.”
Sam hung up, grimacing at the phone. He’d wanted to keep busy, but this felt strange. No matter, at least it would get him out of the firehouse for a bit.
“Come on, Cinder.” He pushed his chair back from his desk and stood. “Let’s go see what’s really going on down there.”
What was going on down at the senior center had little or nothing to do with the fire sprinklers. That was how things looked at first glance, anyway. Sam entered the building to find fifteen or so retirees in wobbly downward dog positions on colorful yoga mats lined up on the lobby floor.
Violet’s gentle yoga class was in session. Super.
Sprinkles eyed Sam from a yoga mat situated right beside Violet’s. Cinder let out a delighted little snort. The Dalmatians were clearly happy to see each other.
Sam awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying his best not to stare at Violet’s willowy form clad in skintight leggings. He looked anywhere and everywhere until his eyes met Ethel Banks’s, who was casting him an upside-down grin from her yoga position.
“Cinder,” he muttered, “why do I get the feeling we’ve been lured here for purposes unrelated to sprinklers?”
“Sam. What are you doing here?” Violet shimmied to her feet, and Sam couldn’t help but notice that her cute little toenails were painted the same shade of blue as the famous little boxes from the jewelry store in the famous Audrey Hepburn movie. Just like her charming vintage bicycle.
Attraction percolated between them. Sam could feel it from clear across the crowded lobby. All thoughts of avoiding distraction went right out the window.
“Look, everyone! It’s Marshal Sam,” one of the residents said. “Are you here for yoga?”
Cinder’s tail wagged against Sam’s leg.
“I’m afraid not.” He twirled his pointer finger overhead in the direction of one of the sprinkler heads on the ceiling. “We’re responding to a call about the sprinkler system.”
