Book Five
Liar, Liar House On Fire
Liar, LIAR HOUSE ON FIRE
Posted 9/1/2009
CHAPTER ONE
The sixty-year old frame farmhouse that had served well was dying fast. Sounds like firecrackers popping and tree limbs snapping, orchestrated by flames that exploded through glass windows in search for more oxygen. The flames reached high above the roof, at the midnight hour and illuminated the surrounding area as bright as day.
Buddy Bodie slid out of his vehicle in the driveway. His gaze transfixed on the blazing inferno while reaching for his mike. He stood and stretched his full five foot-eleven inches. The inside of his driver’s open door creaked when he leaned against it. With a raised hand in front of his face, he blocked the intense heat and pressed the push-to-send button.
“Dispatch, Fire One here, we have a ‘316’ at
The Buford County Public Safety Dispatcher immediately began pushing the recall buttons for the volunteer firefighters. The first to respond would meet at the fire station and man the trucks and equipment. The remainder of the responding crew would go directly to the fire.
In response to the sound of heavy coughing, Buddy looked over at the north side of the house. Two figures, one in a nightgown and the other in pajamas staggered away from the house.
“Dispatch, we’re also going to need Early Response as well. We have two smoke victims.”
A full moon illuminated the scene like a celestial spot light. Dark smoke rose in the night air, with sounds and smells all too familiar to the Buford County Fire Chief. Without waiting for the dispatcher’s response, he tossed the mike back onto the car seat and ran for the couple, who were on their hands and knees. The gray haired, frail female struggled. She braced herself with one arm and reached out with the other as he approached.
“Ma’am was there anyone else in the house?” Buddy asked and helped her to her feet.
She feebly shook her head. “No.” She attempted to walk but her legs buckled beneath her.
Lifting her in his arms, he carried her back to his vehicle and sat her in the passenger’s seat with her legs dangling outside of the vehicle. He returned quickly for her husband who was back on his feet but staggering severely. Arriving in time to keep him from falling, Buddy placed his arm around the old man’s waist and helped him over to the vehicle.
After placing the husband in the back seat, he opened the back of the white Jeep Grand Cherokee and pulled out blankets. Even though days often reached temperatures in the 90’s, nights dropped to the low 60’s. However, he felt the couple’s shivering, in all probability resulted from shock instead of the temperature. Heat from the blaze grew hotter by the minute.
In between his coughing and wheezing, the elderly gentlemen attempted to tell what happened. “Like I had just gotten to sleep when a noise of some kind, I didn’t know what it was, woke me up. A few seconds later, I smelled smoke. I woke Ma and told her to get up, then I went out to see what it was and I saw the front room wall totally a fire. The floor was burning something fierce too. I run and got Ma and by the time me and her got to the hallway the fire had taken hold there too. We turned around, run back in the bedroom, and hunkered down close to the floor because of the smoke and hightailed it to the window and crawled out.”
The deputy sheriff on duty monitored the transmission and advised that he was in route. The dispatcher notified the sheriff. Five-minutes later, Sheriff Johnson notified the dispatcher that he was in service and in route
The EMT medics of the early response team arrived first on the scene. They gathered up the elderly couple, provided them with oxygen and placed them in the ambulance. Then with red lights flashing and siren blaring they headed to the medical facility in Calico Rock. “Calico, we’re in bound with two inhalation victims, ETA twenty-five minutes.”
Buddy directed the equipment as it arrived and didn’t notice the arrival of the sheriff or his deputy. A tap on his shoulder startled him. He turned to see Sheriff Bradley ‘Tater’ Johnson standing there.
“Hey there Buddy, any injuries or fatalities?” asked the sheriff with his head cocked to the side with a casual facial expression, and pointing his arm in the direction of the fire.
“Just the usual smoke inhalation. They’re on their way to the facility in Calico now. The house, as you can see, is gone, but we contained the fire. The field and woods are pretty dry this time of year.”
“Buddy, how is it you came across this fire? I mean this is the second one you reported in just a week’s time. I can’t help but be a little suspicious of you being out in this neighborhood at this time of night and all.” The middle-aged sheriff stretched his five-foot, three inches, with his head still cocked to the side.
“Damn it Tater, I received a call that someone had information on the origin of the Madden fire last week. They said they would meet me here at the Smith place. I came as soon as I could and found this place going up in flames.”
“You know, old buddy, that sounds a lot like the same story you told me on the Madden fire just last week.” Johnson stood straight with his white shirt stretched over the belly that hung over his belt and pushed his hat up a little on his forehead.
Buddy placed both hands on his hips. “I told you someone called me and wanted to give me some information about arson activity in the county. They wanted to meet me there, and when I arrived the place was already on fire. Of course I reported it; what do you think I was supposed to do, keep it a secret?” Buddy turned his back on the sheriff and waved at one of the firemen to move the force of the spray further down the wood line.
“I’m just saying that I think we should get together and talk more about this. Don’t seem right, you being at both places when the fires started.” The sheriff’s eyes narrowed.
Buddy spun around, almost nose-to-nose with Sheriff Johnson. “Tater are you deft or just not right bright?” His voice rose with each word. “The fires were already full bore when I arrived.”
“Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t.” Johnson took a step back. “It don’t matter none to me, we‘re still going to talk about it tomorrow.”
“Maybe we will and maybe we won’t. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. You and the rest of the crooks that work for you are not going to set me up. You’re not going to take over the fire department. And you sure as shootin’ aren’t going to hang an arson charge on me. You got that?”
“Maybe we will and maybe we won’t,” replied the sheriff with sneer. “But you’ve got to admit it’s looking good for us. The sheriff nodded to Buddy and moved over to his deputy.
Buddy watched him walk away. Why is the sheriff so sure these two fires are arson? I haven’t given him my report on the Madden fire yet. Granted, it was arson, but I haven’t told him. Buddy shook his head and returned to his firemen.
The sun popped up over the trees and reflected off the water into the house on the western shore of King Lake. Only 8:30 a.m. and already 86 degrees. Buddy sat on his deck looking at the house on the other side of the lake, thankful his eastside home still had shade. This August day was sure to reach 100-degrees. He figured the Smith house had cooled down sufficiently by this time that he could begin his investigation. But, first, he had an important phone call to make before he did anything else.