Trial by Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

with your tea,” she said, flashing me a smile.
    I read the article while I waited. It was from the local paper, and it didn’t tell
me anything I didn’t already know. Sharon brought my iced tea, took the article from
me and reposted it on the bulletin board. I sat back and sipped my tea. I couldn’t
help overhearing the people around me.
    “If he lives, he’ll clear out for sure.” That came from a middle-aged woman at the
next table. Was she talking about Mr. Goran?
    “If he lives, that will just get Ted more riled up,” said her companion, another
middle-aged woman.
    The first woman caught me listening and fixed me with a stern look. “Can I help you
with something?” Her tone made it clear that helping me was the last thing she intended
to do.
    I shook my head and turned back to my newspaper, my cheeks burning. The two women
lowered their voices. I finished my iced tea quickly and took my bill to the cash
register. While I waited for Sharon to appear, I glanced at the bulletin board. All
the newspaper articles that had been tacked up had to do with Mr. Goran. The oldest
one, yellowed and curling at the corners, was headed Foreign owner buys Winters farm
at auction. Another much smaller one was from the weekly crime roundup: Vandalism
at local farm. Someone had scrawled under it, Not enough. Not enough what? Not enough
vandalism? There were several articles about the fire besides the one with my picture.
    “Looks like the fire was big news,” I said when Sharon came out of the kitchen, wiping
her hands on her apron.
    “Let’s just say people have an interest.” She took my money. “Don’t let anyone give
you a hard time for what you did. It’s not your fault you live next door.”
    I wanted to ask her what she meant, but another cry of “Order’s up” sent her scurrying
away.

    I spotted a florist shop—Carol’s Flowers for All Occasions—on a side street, and
I went inside.
    “Can I help you?” A woman in a green apron appeared from the back room in response
to a jingling bell above the door. The rose-shaped pin on her apron bib identified
her as Carol.
    “I want some flowers, but I’m not sure what to get.”
    “What’s the occasion?”
    “It’s for someone in the hospital.”
    “Happy occasion? Hopeful occasion? Sad occasion?”
    Happy occasion? In a hospital ?
    “Did she just have a baby?” Carol asked, reading my mind. “Or is it someone recovering
from an operation? Or someone who got bad news?”
    I wasn’t even sure Mr. Goran was going to know the flowers were there, but I decided
to stay hopeful, because I hoped he was going to be okay. Carol showed me a selection
of bright, long-lasting flowers. After I made my selection, she asked if I wanted
them delivered or if I preferred to take them myself.
    “I’ll take them myself.” While she wrapped the flowers, I asked if she knew Mr. Goran.
    “The man who burned down his own barn?” She shook her head. “He never came in here.
Are the flowers for him?”
    “He’s my next-door neighbor.”
    “Ah,” she said, nodding as if I had just answered an important question. “I thought
I recognized you. You’re the girl from the paper. Well, he’s lucky to have you for
a neighbor.”
    That was the second time I had heard that today. “What do you mean?”
    She shook her head as if she was sorry she had spoken.
    “My aunt and I are new in town,” I told her. “Is there something wrong with Mr. Goran?”
    “Well…” She glanced around, even though we were alone. “As I said, I don’t know him.
But I guess you could say he hasn’t made himself popular. I’ve lived here for ten
years, and by and large the people are nice. But there are plenty of them who, if
they’d been in your shoes that night, might not have made that call.”
    She had to be kidding. “Why not?”
    The bell above the door jingled. Two women came in. Carol handed me my flowers and
said she hoped my friend would get better soon.
    I put the flowers in