The other guests were sent back to bed, but Qwilleran stayed and helped serve coffee and sandwiches to the sooty-faced volunteers, who reported to the inn in shifts to take a breather. Some would stay on duty all night, watching for hot spots. He talked to the chief and then phoned the night desk of the Moose County Something.
"Reporting fire at Pear Island resort. Discovered at one-fifty-five A.M. Confined to one cottage at Domino Inn on West Beach Road. Occupant removed by volunteer rescue squad and airlifted to mainland. Check Pickax hospital for condition. Adult female. Check sheriff for release of name. Got it? ... Ten volunteer firefighters, one tanker, and one pumper responded. No injuries. Water pumped from lake. Calm atmosphere averted forest fire and damage to other buildings. Probable cause of fire: smoking in bed, according to fire chief. Got it? ... Okay, now listen here: If the victim dies, police will withhold her name temporarily, but I can tell you that she was Dr. June Halliburton, head of music for Moose County schools. Check Lyle Compton for bio. She was also summer director of entertainment for the Pear Island Hotel. Check Don Exbridge of XYZ Enterprises for comments ... Okay?"
As he hung up, Qwilleran said to himself, Lyle will be shocked! So will Dwight. So will the Rikers. And there goes Derek's job as assistant director—if such a job ever existed.
Lori was finally persuaded to get some rest, but Qwilleran was still manning the coffeemaker at six A.M., when the news was broadcast by WPKX:
"A fire in a cottage on Pear Island claimed the life of one person early this morning. Volunteer firefighters responded to the alarm and were able to contain the blaze that originated in a smoldering mattress. Cause of death was asphyxiation resulting from smoke inhalation. The victim, an adult female from the Pickax area, was airlifted from the island by sheriff's helicopter but was dead on arrival at Pickax General Hospital. The name is withheld pending notification of relatives."
After a few hours of sleep Qwilleran was roused by the yowling of two Siamese, who wanted their breakfast, fire or no fire. He ventured down the lane and salvaged a can of red salmon from Four Pips. The family in Two Pips was packing up and leaving, and most of the guests in the inn were checking out. They said the continuous thunder made them nervous. According to weather reports, the storm would reach Moose County and environs in twenty-four hours.
A pale and weary Lori was serving scrambled eggs and toast, that was all, and when Qwilleran inquired about Nick, she said, "He took the kids and cats to the mainland at eight o'clock this morning. He's dropping them at his mother's house—nine cats, including the new kittens. Then he'll come right back. There's a lot of cleanup to do, as well as securing everything against the storm. High winds and thunderstorms are predicted. That means shuttering windows and removing anything that could blow away."
"I'll help, if someone will tell me what to do."
"First, you might bring all your belongings from Four Pips," she said. "And now that our cats have gone, yours can have the run of the inn."
"But not until I can supervise them," Qwilleran stipulated.
There was no fire damage at Four Pips, but the acrid smell of smoke and a mustiness from the drenching of the roof had permeated everything, including his clothing. Once more he bundled shirts, pants, and socks into pillow cases and carried them to the Vacation Helpers.
Wordlessly he tossed the bundles on the reception table.
"Oh, no! Not again!" said Shelley.
"How fast can you have it ready?"
"Two hours. Is it smoke damage? I heard about the fire. Too bad about the woman who died. Did you know her? Was she young?" In a high state of excitement induced by the approaching storm, Shelley talked nonstop, asking questions without waiting for answers. "Did you hear the storm warning on the radio? Did you see the ladders out in front? Some of our roomers are shuttering the windows. Mr. Ex wants all hotel employees to leave the island, but some of us are going to ride it out. We'll have plenty of beer and meatloaf sandwiches, and we'll have a ball! They predict gale winds or worse, but this building is good and solid. If there's high water, it'll be bad for the hotel. We're on a higher elevation, so I don't worry, do you? Have you ever gone through a hurricane?"
On the way out, Qwilleran encountered Derek Cuttle-brink, leaving with a duffelbag, and he asked the young man, "Are you one of the rats deserting a sinking ship?"
"Yeah ... well ... I'm laid off—for how long, I don't know—so I might as well go home and see my girl. How d'you like this thunder? It hasn't stopped since yesterday noon. It spooks me!"
"The ancient gods of the island are having a bowling tournament," Qwilleran said, adding in a lower voice, "Did Merrio come up with any more information? Let's walk down to the beach."
