Chapter 13 - The Fire on Main Street
Four days after Julian Vance's arrest, a different kind of crisis struck Bellamy Falls.
It was a bitter cold Tuesday night, with temperatures dropping well below zero. At two o'clock in the morning, the town's emergency fire sirens began to wail, their shrill cry tearing through the silent night air.
Henry awoke instantly in his bed on Elm Street. He threw on his heavy coat and walked to the window. In the distance, over the center of town, a thick column of black smoke rolled into the moonlit sky, illuminated by a terrifying orange glow.
His heart plummeted into his stomach.
The fire was on Main Street.
Within ten minutes, Henry, Mara, and Evan drove as close to Main Street as the police barricades would allow. The street was packed with fire trucks, pulsing red lights, and shouting firefighters dragging heavy hoses across the frozen pavement.
Henry rushed past the crowd, his eyes wide with horror.
The fire had started in the vacant commercial building owned by Arthur Vance—a building that sat directly adjacent to Rowan & Bell Jewelers. The roaring flames were already leaping from the roof of Vance's building, black smoke pouring toward Henry’s shop.
"Henry! Hold back!" George Miller shouted, grabbing Henry’s arm as he tried to break through the police line.
"My store, George!" Henry yelled frantically, pointing at the glowing embers falling onto his wooden roof. "Fifty years of work! My workbench! The antique clocks!"
"The firefighters are working on it, Henry! You can't go in there! The smoke will kill you!" George urged, holding his old friend tight.
Mara ran up, grabbing Henry’s other arm, her eyes filled with fear. "Dad, no! Don't go near it! It's just a building!"
"It's not just a building, Mara!" Henry choked out, tears stinging his eyes as he watched sparks fly against the historic brick walls. "It's your grandfather's legacy! It's where I engraved your locket! Everything I built is in there!"
Suddenly, a firefighter ran up to the fire chief, shouting over the roar of the flames. "Chief! The fire was set deliberately! We found three gasoline cans in the basement of Vance's building!"
Henry froze. Arson.
Standing at the edge of the police barricade, wearing an expensive cashmere coat, was Arthur Vance. He stood alone in the cold, watching his building burn with a cold, unreadable expression. His real estate empire was facing total bankruptcy due to tax fraud investigations, and burning his insured commercial properties was his final, desperate bid to claim millions in insurance money before the state seized everything.
Henry turned toward Arthur Vance, a terrifying rage boiling in his veins. He broke free from George’s grip and walked straight toward the wealthy developer.
"You set this fire, Vance!" Henry roared, pointing a trembling finger at Arthur's face. "You burned your own building to collect the insurance money, and you didn't give a damn if you burned my shop to the ground with it!"
Arthur looked at Henry with cold, dead eyes, offering a sickeningly arrogant smirk. "You have no proof, Rowan. It was an unfortunate electrical accident."
"We found the accelerant, Mr. Vance," Fire Chief O'Connor declared, stepping up beside Henry, accompanied by two police officers. "And our thermal cameras caught your car leaving the alley ten minutes before the alarms sounded."
Arthur’s arrogant smirk instantly vanished.
"Arthur Vance," Chief O'Connor said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "You are under arrest for first-degree arson, insurance fraud, and reckless endangerment."
As the police officers pinned Arthur’s arms behind his back and slapped the cold metal cuffs onto his wrists, the powerful developer looked at Henry with pure, defeated malice.
"You ruined me, Rowan," Arthur spat out as he was shoved into the back of a police cruiser.
"You ruined yourself, Vance," Henry said coldly, watching the police car drive away into the night.
Henry turned back to his shop. The firefighters had managed to contain the blaze, dousing the roof of Rowan & Bell Jewelers with heavy streams of water. The building had survived, but the water damage and smoke were extensive.
Mara walked up beside her father, slipping her arm through his. Evan took his grandfather's hand.
"We can rebuild it, Dad," Mara said softly, looking at the charred brick facade. "We'll clean the smoke, replace the roof, and polish the wood. Together."
May you like
Henry looked at his daughter and grandson, the orange glow of the dying fire reflecting in his eyes.
"Yes," Henry whispered, feeling a profound sense of peace settle over his soul despite the destruction. "We will rebuild it. Because gold isn't made in the sunshine, Mara. Gold is refined in the fire."
