50 Harbor Street - Debbie Macomber [124]
Justine Gunderson stared at what had once been their restaurant, her arms tight around her son to ward off the cold wind gusting from the cove. Leif was peacefully asleep, thumb in his mouth. Seth stood a few feet apart from her, answering the fire chief’s questions. The stench of fire invaded her nostrils, clung to her clothes and hair. Smoke wafted up from the ashes of what had once been their dream—their restaurant, their investment and sole source of income. Even now, staring at the charred remains, it was hard to believe The Lighthouse was no more. All that survived of the structure was a blackened skeleton and a pile of rubble. With a jolt she recognized the twisted metal frame of a photograph—the picture Jon Bowman had given them when they opened the restaurant.
After a few minutes, Seth returned to her side and took Leif from her arms. Their son was still asleep so he’d be spared seeing this. Justine felt numb with shock. She couldn’t cry, could barely think.
“It was arson,” Seth whispered.
This was as unbelievable as the fire itself. “Who…who would do such a thing to us?”
Seth shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“How?”
“The fire chief says it was started near the kitchen. We were supposed to think it was a grease fire.”
This whole situation was becoming more unreal by the minute.
“Whoever did it was stupid,” he said grimly. “Or else they wanted to be caught.”
That, at least, was encouraging. Justine wanted whoever had done this to be caught, too. Wanted that person to face his—or her—day in court, to receive the maximum sentence.
“The fire chief asked if we had any disgruntled employees,” Seth murmured. He, too, seemed to be in shock.
“Do we?” Seth was the one who handled the hiring and firing, plus the scheduling of staff. Justine had enough to do working as a hostess and keeping their financial records straight.
“Anson Butler was pretty angry when I laid him off.” Seth’s voice was hoarse, and he hardly sounded like himself.
Justine remembered now that Seth had laid off two employees recently. “What about the other kid?”
“Tony Philpott,” Seth told her. “He seemed to take it in stride. I hear he’s already got another job.”
“Oh.”
“The police want to question Anson. He’s missing. They’re looking for him now.”
Justine leaned close to her husband. “I hope they find him.”
Seth nodded. He placed his free arm around her shoulders, and pulled her against him. “We’ll get through this.”
“Of course we will,” Justine said. She just didn’t know how.
Fifty
With a heavy heart, Maryellen set down the phone after talking to Kelly. She felt like weeping. Nothing was going right. Bedridden and miserable during this difficult pregnancy, she counted the days until she could get on with her life again.
With Maryellen unable to work and contribute to their finances, their budget was stretched to the breaking point. Jon was working as hard as he could to fill orders and make new photographs available. It was tax season, though, and sales of nonessential items were notoriously bad at this time of year.
When Jon wasn’t developing and printing his photographs, he’d been cooking whatever hours Seth Gunderson could give him at The Lighthouse. Until last weekend, when it burned to the ground in the biggest fire in Cedar Cove’s history. Everyone in town was sick about losing The Lighthouse. The money from Jon’s job at the restaurant was gone now, too. They were back to first base financially.
As it was, Jon was working constantly to support the family, plus taking care of her, Katie and the upkeep on the house. Her husband was worn out, and Maryellen didn’t know how much longer he could continue this killing pace. The baby, the fire and now this problem with her sister.
Kelly was pregnant, too, but unfortunately she’d been experiencing terrible bouts of morning sickness. She spent the first half of every day bent over a toilet. Paul had put his foot down; taking care of Katie was simply too much for