The Cool Room by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 51

The interview was not as long as Frank had assumed it might be, and after making a quick phone call stood outside the police station, waiting for a ride back. Sitting on a nearby bench, he gave thought to how to deal with what was clearly a threat. If he didn’t cooperate, his house—and his livelihood – could very well go up in flames. But he did, he faced the potential of serving time for the commission of what would be several felonies. What was worse was that Jonathan and Emily might go down with him. Certainly, his reputation would die at the same time. He considered going back to the bar and confronting the dealer, but given the circumstances, his concern was that he might react violently, and the one thing he didn’t want to do was make things worse.

As his mind searched for a solution, his train of thought was disrupted by the sound of a car horn as Jonathan pulled up. Getting in, Frank buckled himself into the passenger’s seat and, closing the door, stared ahead as he became lost in the question of what to do. He had never faced circumstances such as this and was unable to decide if he was angry at the person responsible or terrified at what that person might do next. What he did expect were questions from both Jonathan and Emily. They deserved an explanation. But what would he say? ‘Hey, guys. Listen, a drug dealer wants to use the funeral home as ground zero for drug distribution. You’re okay with that, right?’ Frank was truly at a loss.

The drive back was tense and silent. Jonathan was not just curious, but frightened that the fire may have been set. Over time, the town had become plunged into the darkness of crime and economic destitution. This led him to believe that sometimes a crime is committed out of boredom – generally by teenagers looking for a bit of pointless fun. But where the loss of life or property damage was concerned, the crime in question could no longer be seen as recreational but the act of a sociopath. They were only a few blocks from the funeral home when Jonathan decided to break the tension and start asking questions.

“Frank,” he said. “What did they say?” There was only one way to answer the question. Any other answer would be an obvious lie. “They said it was set,” Frank replied. A moment of silence went by as both men let the words sink in. How could a funeral home be the victim of arson? Jonathan was lost for an answer. But on a positive note, there was one thing he could say.

“Well,” he said. “At least it wasn’t the house.” Perhaps the saying of a silver lining is true. But silver tarnishes, and by comparison, both men suspected that another act of arson could involve the house, and with Frank living there, the threat was even more real.

“Yeah,” Frank replied. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

Pulling up in front of the house, Frank posed only one question.

“How’s Emily doing?”

Jonathan paused as he prepared himself to give Frank an honest answer.

“Well,” he began. “She’s terrified. But she seems to be hiding it well. She’s not really saying much, though. I guess some people hide from their emotions when they’re too afraid to face them.” Frank understood this far too well, as he had lived in hiding from his own emotions for the last few months.

“So,” Jonathan continued. “What are you going to tell her?”

Frank wanted to be honest, yet not too honest. He certainly didn’t want to tell them that a drug dealer was trying to push him into becoming a trafficker. “I’m going to tell her the same thing I’m telling you,” he replied. “The hearse was set on fire intentionally, and the police are conducting an investigation. And they’re not telling me a fucking thing.”

Jonathan nodded his head – satisfied with Frank’s answer. There would soon have to be a group conversation in order to settle everyone’s fears and to make sure all three were on the same page of whatever information was being provided.

Walking up the steps, they were met by Emily, who bore an expression of deep concern. Seeing Frank's face and a gesture of quiet from Jonathan, she decided to hold her questions for a more appropriate time. She held the door open as both men walked in, but before closing it, glanced around the immediate neighborhood. From several windows she noticed curtains had been pulled open with eyes investigating the scene, wondering what had happened. She knew that people were prone to forming their own ideas and judgments yet could not imagine what they were thinking. How could a hearse catch fire? The idea that someone intentionally started it had likely occurred to some of them. To others of more rational mind, it could have been an electrical problem – a problem that could have existed during its manufacturing. Maybe Frank had simply bought a lemon. For them, it was not something to worry about, as long as no one was hurt.

Once inside, Frank directed Jonathan and Emily to the nearest viewing room, and pulling up three chairs, asked them to sit. This wasn’t normal for Frank. He had never conducted such a meeting, and this made Jonathan and Emily nervous, thinking that the expense of a new hearse would result in one of them being let go. And in that case, the last in was generally first out.

“Alright, guys,” he began. “I’m sure you know about the fire. So far, the police think it was set. They don’t have a suspect and said that only forty percent of all crimes are solved. But it’s a small town, so I’m sure they’ll find some leads.” Frank’s speech did nothing to dissipate the fear that Jonathan and Emily felt, and it showed. Jonathan stared at the floor, trying to absorb what had happened, while Emily unsuccessfully attempted to hold back a torrent of tears. Seeing their reactions led Frank into a deep pit of guilt. Knowing that had he not started using cocaine, his business would not be under threat and his small staff would not be at the edge of hysteria. This was his responsibility.