Chapter Four

The fire was so large and sudden, it drew a crowd immediately. But the good people of Pigsend weren't the sort to sit back and let a building burn down. Anyone who was close grabbed a bucket, and they all formed a line to nearby Pigsend Creek. Bev joined the line, standing between Pip Norris and his wife Holly as she moved empty buckets one way and took full buckets the other.

But even as fast as everyone moved, the fire was too much for poor Earl's workshop, and before too long, it was nothing but a heap of burning ash.

"Oh, Earl," Bev said, putting her hand on his shoulder as he stoically stared at the embers. "I'm so sorry."

He wiped his face with his handkerchief, perhaps a few tears mixed with the sweat on his face. "It'll be fine. I can rebuild. That's what I do, you know? Fix things that are broken." He sniffed and rubbed his nose.

Bev was at a loss for how to comfort him. Earl had sprung into action when the front of Bev's inn had fallen into the sinkhole, and he'd rebuilt the Brewer twins' house, too. He was the go-to man in the town when something broke, and it just didn't seem fair he'd have to repair his own workshop.

"Just hate I lost all those chairs. Hendry's gonna be furious." He let out a watery chuckle.

"Hendry had better hold her tongue, or else," Ida said, coming to stand beside him. "Can't blame you for a freak fire in your workshop."

"Suppose not," he said, kicking a nearby black piece of wood. "Oh, what a mess."

Ida caught Bev's expression and nodded. "Don't you worry, Earl. We're going to help you clean all this up. And rebuild!"

"We are?" Vellora said. "Ida, you don't know the first thing about building—"

"I can carry wood, can't I?" Ida huffed. "Earl's been the backbone of this town for decades. It's the least we can do."

"Agreed." Bev nodded firmly.

"We're in, too." Shasta and Stella, the twins whose house was destroyed during the sinkhole fiasco, put down the half-empty bucket they'd been carrying and stood next to Ida. "Whatever you need, Earl."

"And me," Allen said.

"As much as I appreciate it," Earl said with a wet laugh, "I don't think any of you know how to swing a hammer or measure or cut or—"

"Then you can tell us what to do," Bev said. "Or maybe we'll just provide pastries and tea and muscle."

"I'm sure Etheldra will have to approve that," Earl said to Shasta, who worked at the tea shop.

"Approved." The old woman patted her dear friend on the shoulder before surveying the damage with a curious look. "Now what in the world happened here?"

"Clearly, a fire." Mayor Jo Hendry appeared out of the darkness, conveniently after all the work was done. She tutted sadly and took Earl's hands in hers. "My dear Earl, I'm devastated to hear about your workshop. So many beautiful items."

"Your chairs," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Well." She forced a smile, but there was tension behind it. "That's on me for not picking them up earlier. I suppose you'll just have to make them again."

"I think he'll probably focus on rebuilding his workshop first," Bev said.

"Of course, of course." She bristled. "But that'll take a day, right?"

"I don't—"

"I'll be in touch, Earl. Keep your chin up!" Hendry called, disappearing back into the darkness.

"I think the next election, someone else should run for her office," Vellora said.

"Good luck with that," Bev said. She had a sinking suspicion that if someone did want to run against Hendry, the beloved mayor might cast a spell to convince them it was a bad idea. Hendry seemed to have an uncanny ability to control a room—and people—though Bev wasn't quite sure what kind of magic she possessed.

"Suppose I should prioritize her chairs, hm?" Earl said. "She has been waiting."

"She can wait longer," Ida snapped. "You can't make chairs without a workshop. And all your tools…" She kicked a nearby ember. "I do hope we can find them in all this."

"Probably have to wait until the morning when it all cools off," Earl said. "Can't believe it burned down so quickly."

"Yes. It's strange," Etheldra said, turning to look at Bev.

"What is?"

"This fire." She slowly knelt near the embers. "Earl's careful with his flammables, aren't you, Earl?"

"Of course, but you know, accidents happen. Who's to say it was something in the shop?" Earl said. "Maybe a passing ember from a chimney or—"

"Or someone set the fire," Etheldra said, her gaze practically boring a hole into Bev.

"Oh, come now." Bev laughed, a little nervously. "Why are you looking at me? There's a sheriff in town who—"

"Rustin?" Ida scoffed. "He can barely investigate his way to his office each morning."

"Besides that, you're the resident mystery solver," Etheldra replied plainly. "And this is very clearly a mystery."

Bev opened her mouth to argue, but everyone in the group was looking the same way. She put her hands on her hips and scowled. "I'm not the resident mystery solver. I'm just… Things just happen to…" She couldn't quite form the words to argue. "Besides that, this isn't a mystery. It's one fire. If the whole town goes up in flames, I'll be sure to break out my glowing stick and investigate."

Earl's mournful sigh softened her stance. "I know it's not your thing, Bev, but it would mean a lot if you could… Maybe it'll help me sleep better at night knowin' it was just an accident, and not someone…"

"Oh, all right," Bev said. "Why don't I come by tomorrow morning?"

~

Bev went to bed convinced she was going to talk with Earl about hypotheticals and walk away with him understanding that accidents happen. But as she lay awake with Biscuit snoring between her calves, she couldn't help but remember something odd about how he'd asked to speak with her privately. Something unreadable in the old man's face.

And perhaps he wanted to speak with her in private not because he was tired, but because he had information he didn't want shared with the wider group.

Either way, Bev rose and did her chores, setting aside a second tea mug and putting on the kettle. She kept an ear out for the grannies upstairs and for Earl or Allen at the front door while Biscuit watched her with wary golden eyes.

"Not sleeping this morning?" Bev asked the laelaps while she worked her rosemary bread dough. "Is something magical afoot?"

He let out a low sniff.

"Hm." Bev slowed her kneading. "Well, let's see what Earl has to say."

At a quarter past seven, Allen arrived with cream-filled pastries dusted with candied orange peel, and, like the day before, the moment he walked into the inn, the upstairs floorboards started creaking.

"Hope you didn't bring the whole batch this time," Bev said with a chuckle.

"Made double this morning and left half back in the bakery." He winked. "But I will say, the ladies were so nice yesterday. Came by mid-afternoon just as I was about to close up and paid me three gold coins."

"Really?" Bev's brows rose. "That's awful kind of them."

"We actually sat around the table and had a cuppa. They wanted to know all about my mom and how long we'd had the bakery." He sighed happily. "First time I've really been able to talk about her at length."

Bev glanced at the top of the stairs, and not having heard the doors open yet, asked him, "They weren't wandering around Earl's workshop, were they?"

He shook his head. "No. Why?" He frowned. "Oh, Bev, you don't think… It was an accident, wasn't it?"

"Well, considering the culprits usually end up sleeping in my inn…" She shrugged. "They're almost a little too nice, you know?"

"How can someone be too nice, Bev?" Allen said. "You sound like Etheldra."

Before she could answer, the doors upstairs opened, and the three grannies came rushing down. They barely said hello to Allen before devouring the orange pastries, and it wasn't until they'd scarfed the last one that Bev realized she hadn't gotten one herself.

"That poor carpenter," Rita tutted.

"Does he need help rebuilding his workshop?" Janet asked.

Gladys dabbed her handkerchief against her lips. "We'd be happy to help."

"Oh, I'm sure he's got it," Bev said. If Earl didn't want the townsfolk helping him rebuild, he definitely didn't want these sweet, well-meaning ladies around.

"Nonsense, we're quite handy."

"Built a lot of workshops in my day."

"Why don't we pop over?"

"I really don't—" But before Bev could finish, the grannies were already halfway out the door. Bev let out a sigh. She had to see Earl anyway.

"See you later, Bev," Allen said, waving as Bev marched out the door, Biscuit happily trotting at her heels.

~

The grannies were nearly to the town square by the time Bev caught up with them. They didn't seem winded by their quick pace, either, which was surprising for a group their age.

"I know you guys mean well," Bev said, as she caught up with them. "Earl will have his shop rebuilt in a few weeks or so—"

"Then we'll expedite the process."

"Really, don't worry."

"Promise we know what we're doing."

"I'm sure you do, but you know how old carpenters are," Bev said, curious how the grannies knew which street to turn on to get to Earl's. "They're finicky."

"Oh, he'll just be happy it's done."

"They grouse, but they're grateful for the help."

"Don't worry, Bev, dear."

Despite Bev's best efforts, the grannies walked right up to the remains of Earl's workshop and started discussing how they'd rebuild it.

"What in the…" Earl had been on his back porch, stacking pieces of wood. "What are they doing here?"

"These ladies insisted on coming to see if they could help," Bev said, throwing her hands out apologetically. "I tried to stop them."

"No need to stop us, Bev," Janet said, picking up a nearby shovel and scooping up a large pile of ash. "We'll just get to work!"

"No time like the present," Gladys replied, bending over. "Oh, look. I found a piece of a hammer!"

"And I found a saw!" Rita said, waving the handle-less blade in the air.

"Er…" Earl rubbed the back of his head. "I suppose that's good. I'd borrowed some tools from folks in town, but nice to know my old pieces are still around. I'll need to get them down to the blacksmith to make new handles, I suppose, but…"

"Why don't we have that chat first, hm?" Bev said. "Then I can get these grannies back to the inn and out of your hair."

Bev followed Earl into his small house, which was just a single room. His twin bed was in the corner, and there was a small hearth with a kettle hanging over the fire. Bev could see why he always came to the Weary Dragon for dinner; there wasn't even a kitchen table.

Bev looked around. For a man who made chairs, there was a severe lack of them in his house—she spotted just one. "Um, where should I…?"

"Right there," he said, pointing at the lone seat. "I'll stand."

Bev plopped down as he handed her the tea. "Thanks."

"I don't have much in the way of food," he said apologetically. "Was just getting ready to come see you, actually."

"Not much in the way of food at the inn right now, either," Bev said. "Those ladies have some…uh…hearty appetites. Ate all Allen's pastries within a few minutes."

"I'm sure." He clasped his hands in front of him. "I'm glad you stopped by. What I want to say, I don't know… I just don't want it getting around until I know for sure."

"So you don't think it was an accident?" She took a hesitant sip of the tea. Still too hot. "What do your neighbors say? Did they hear that explosion?"

He nodded. "Pip said he was in bed with the missus when he heard a loud bang. Gilda wasn't home yet, but her younger sister was—scared the poor dear half to death. She was white and shaking when I saw her."

"Valta?" Bev furrowed her brow. "She was just in my kitchen yesterday. Got into a scrap with Pip's boy and Vicky's brother. They had to clean flour out of my whole kitchen."

"Oh, that's who that third boy was, then. Vicky's brother," Earl said. "Thought he looked familiar but couldn't place him. The three of them were skulking around." He wiped his nose. "That's why I didn't want to say anything last night. I know Vicky and Allen are, well, not sure what to call them, exactly."

"Very good friends," Bev said. "I'm sure Allen wouldn't… if you saw them there…"

"I didn't see them there, exactly," Earl said. "I think they were over in Pip's yard, but they were close. I just wanted to mention it on the off chance… I'm sure they're good kids." He dropped his gaze, perhaps hoping Bev would fill in the blanks.

Bev wasn't in the habit of throwing around accusations, especially toward children. "Earl, I'm not sure…" she said after a long pause. "Even if they are responsible, it was probably an accident."

"Fires like that…" He cleared his throat. "I had a lot of wood in there, but as fast as it burned? That's not normal." He pushed the cup between his hands. "Now, I'm not saying it was those kids, but…"

"But?"

"But I had a few jugs of spirits in the shop." He held up his hands before Bev could react. "Not to drink, of course. I dissolve resin pieces in it to make varnish for the furniture. Now, I may be old, and my mind may be going a bit, but I do know there've been a few times when I've picked up one of the jugs and they've been a little lighter than usual. Can't say it was the kids, but…" He cleared his throat. "I've had to run them out of my shop a few times. Maybe been a bit too ornery with them. After a hard day's work, you get a little grumpy, too, I'd bet."

Bev wasn't sure she'd ever seen the old carpenter "grumpy."

"So you want me to talk with them?" she said with a heavy sigh.

"You said they'd gotten in trouble, right?" Earl said. "Maybe going to talk with their parents, you could… I don't know…" He lifted a shoulder. "See what they say?"

That was the last thing Bev wanted to do. People were funny about their kids, and Earl's suspicions were pretty light. But she'd told Earl she'd look into it.

"All right," she said. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Bev. I know this isn't what you signed up for, but you seem to be the only one in town who figures these things out." He rose with her and walked her to the door. "I'll see ol' Rustin, I'm sure. But…"

"Yeah, I know." Bev gave him the briefest of smiles. "Can't promise anything, but I'll do my best to—"

Her eyes widened as Earl opened the door. In the few minutes Bev and Earl had been talking, the grannies had cleaned up the rest of the ashy debris and set up a basic frame for the new workshop.

"What the…" Earl followed her outside, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "How did you…?"

"I told you," Rita appeared from behind the shop with Earl's hammerhead in her hand. "We're quite good at rebuilding."

"Do it a lot," Janet said, walking out from the inside.

"We can't replace the woodworking, though," Gladys said. "So sorry you lost it all."

"But maybe you can get back to it sooner," Rita finished.

Janet nodded. "You're so talented."

Earl walked forward, still in shock. Bev, however, kept her wary eyes on the grannies, wondering if maybe they were so adept at rebuilding because they were responsible for burning it down.

But she had no proof, other than a hunch, so with a groan, she turned on her heel and made her way toward Pip Norris's house.