Meet Me On The Midway

“Yesterday,” Mel said. “Power went out on the second floor because kids plugged in too much stuff and blew a fuse.”

The three of them rode in silence on the low-speed road surrounding the Point.

“Dad was always afraid the summer employees were going to burn down that old barn someday,” Jack said.

Evie blew out a breath. “Any idea what Inspector Gotcha is writing on his clipboard?”

She pictured him, dark eyes drawn together in a scowl, taping off the doors of the dorm by order of the fire inspector. Her pulse quickened. He wouldn’t close the dorm, would he? Where would their employees go?

What if he found picky infractions as he had at the marina? Two of the three marina problems were already addressed and she had the asphalt truck on order to fix the fire lane. The giant old cottonwood tree that had shaded the marina area for a century was still an obstacle, but she was trying to find a way around it without sacrificing a piece of history.

Soon, her marina would open and she could move on to the hotel project.

If Scott approves my plans.

He had to approve them. Jack was panicking about the money she was investing in the capital improvement projects for the Point. The investment had to start paying off soon or they were all in trouble. Guilt nagged at her. How much was she motivated by planning the next century for Starlight Point and how much was her motivation driven by her own need to prove she was more than just an accountant and a little sister?

Like it or not, getting the exacting new fire inspector to endorse her plans was integral to the success of her project. Making an enemy of him over the employee housing wasn’t wise, and Evie had a lingering feeling that Inspector Scott Bennett was going to make this the most difficult summer of her life anyway.

* * *

SCOTT WAS STUNNED. He knew the former inspector was too friendly with local businesses. Too sloppy. Let too many things slide. Maybe the guy had never seen someone die in a fire that could and should have been prevented.

He took a deep breath and focused on the fire escape at the employee dorm. A lawn chair blocked the door at the top and someone had parked a barbecue grill at the bottom. It mirrored what he’d found inside the dorm when he’d walked through all three floors.

Fire doors propped open. Cooking devices that were illegal and asking for trouble. Posters and fabric decorations covering the walls and draped over lighting fixtures. A shirt hanger dangling off a smoke detector.

The attic spanning the length of the building was filled with flammable junk, probably items left from years of summer employees. Old mattresses. A dresser. Cardboard boxes filled with who knew what. All kindling in the worst case scenario.

If it were a modern building, there would be fire walls dividing the attic to prevent the spread of flames. But it wasn’t anywhere close to being modern. The employee dorm appeared to be almost as old as the Lake Breeze Hotel. The hotel was a different story, one he planned to dig his teeth into another day.

Scott lowered the tailgate on the fire department’s pickup truck. He sat on the tailgate, dangling his legs. It was sunny and the breeze off the nearby lake cooled his heated mind. He began to write the list of corrections that had to be made immediately or he would be forced by a combination of the law and his own conscience to close the dorm.

A blue truck pulled up and three people climbed out. Evie and Jack Hamilton and the head of maintenance, a man he’d already tangled with. Mel something.

Evie’s long hair was pulled back tight from her face. Her green eyes flashed in the bright sunlight.

Her brother was much taller but his grim expression matched hers.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Scott said, resolved to deliver the true but unpleasant news without dancing around it. “We can begin the twenty-four-hour notification period required in the event of closure and condemnation by the fire inspector.”

“Twenty-four hours?” Evie said. “Closure and condemnation?”

Her eyes were wide, mouth open in shock. Jack’s face registered closer to murderous. Mel and Jack stood shoulder-to-shoulder behind Evie, as if they were her enforcers.

Interesting. She appeared to be the youngest of the three, but she was in charge. He had no idea how the Hamiltons operated. He knew there was another sister, but he hadn’t met her yet.

“In the event of actual danger to life or property, I have the authority to close buildings, construction sites, parties and just about anything else,” Scott said. “Michigan law.”

“Is there actual danger here?” Evie asked. She stepped closer, her hip almost brushing the edge of the tailgate. Scott wished she wouldn’t stand so close.

“This place is five seconds from going up in flames. I wouldn’t sleep at night if I owned it or if anyone I cared about was staying in it.”

He saw the glance exchanged between Evie, her brother and her maintenance man. None of them looked surprised.

What was wrong with these people? Were they too busy adding up their cash to make potentially lifesaving upgrades?

Evie held out her hand for his clipboard. Her expression softened just a little. Not a smile. But perhaps an admission that he wasn’t the big bad wolf.

He handed her the clipboard and watched her read his neatly printed list of violations. She flipped to the next page and perused the diagram he’d drawn with marks indicating the locations of the infractions.

Her expression hardened as she read. Lines defined the set of her mouth. When she looked up at him, her eyes were narrowed, brows drawn together.

“These violations have nothing to do with the actual building,” she said.

Scott shrugged. “True. It’s the careless way your employees are living. Probably find the same things on a college campus.”

“But you’re holding us at fault and threatening to close our building.”

Obviously.

“Yes,” he said curtly. “It’s your building.” He took back his clipboard. “You,” he said, pointing to her and Jack, “are responsible for the people living in your dorm, like it or not.”

Evie slid onto the tailgate, only two feet away from him, swinging her long legs. Her skin was bare from her knee-length navy blue skirt to her low-heeled sandals. She had a small scar on the outside of her ankle and Scott was tempted to ask how she got it.

He shook off the thought and returned his attention to his clipboard.

“If we go through the dorm, knock on doors, educate our employees and remove hazards, would you be convinced to let this go?” Evie asked.

Scott glanced up at Jack and Mel, who were towering over him, arms crossed over their chests.

“I wouldn’t be letting it go,” Scott said. “The problem would be solved. And that’s what I want. It’s what you should want, too. Assuming you care about the lives of your employees.”

“Hey,” Jack said. He uncrossed his arms and took a step forward. “I’m not going to stand here and let you imply I don’t care about what happens around here. I care about every single thing that happens at Starlight Point. Maybe you don’t want to work for a guy like me if you don’t get that.”

Evie bounced off the tailgate and took Jack and Mel by the upper arms. She walked away with both of them and had a low-volume conversation. Scott couldn’t see their faces and was probably better off not knowing the direction their discussion took.

The two men got in the truck and left.

Evie turned around and walked straight up to Scott, stopping only when she was almost close enough to touch him. “If you’re willing to go through the dorm with me and set things straight, I’m all yours.”

CHAPTER FOUR (#uad0c0979-609f-5530-9a3c-8835618016cc)

CRISIS AVERTED, EVIE THOUGHT. But when would the next one come? The daily life of Starlight Point was madness. A beautiful madness that ran through her veins like sunshine. And sometimes rain.

The employee dorms would remain open, but she had no doubt Scott Bennett would sweep through with his book of fire codes whenever he thought their guard was down. Following him through the dorm, floor by floor and room by room, made for the most exhausting morning she could remember. With every door they knocked on, her spirits sank because she dreaded the tangle of extension cords they’d find. Or the doors half blocked with furniture. Or the furtive hot plates. Ashtrays. Candles.

It was a disaster waiting to happen.