"Yes, sir," I agreed. "You probably saw her on the billboard back at the crossroads in town. She's the owner, but I'm the resident therapist and one of three people managing the daily operations."
"Well, says here you have a set of cabins that are running on solar power. I need to make sure that this place is up to code."
I gestured down the hill. "Right this way."
He turned and looked, surveying the land before following me. "Is there a road down there?"
"No," I admitted. "There's a grade down by the gate that is big enough for a full-sized fire engine or an ambulance, but we do not want vehicles down there if we can help it. That's the sleeping area, sir. The former owner - now deceased - had crushed limestone spread to keep down the mud, and it works well enough to drive on, even if the grass covers it."
"I see," the fire marshal said, marking something on his paperwork. "Well, ease of access is important, so you'll need to put up markers for where the emergency vehicles can pass."
"Easy enough," I agreed.
But he kept looking. A few times, he made notes. From the scowl this man was wearing, I had a feeling they weren't the good kind. When we finally reached the cabins, he walked all the way around the first one, looking at every wire and cable attached to it. He tugged at the lines from the solar panels. He wiggled things on the air conditioners. Each time, he made more notes.
"And where are the batteries kept for the power?" he asked.
I gestured towards the front. "There's a well house up there for the water. It's a concrete building with a storage room on the side. All of the panels run back there, where the batteries are kept, and then back. The installer said something about using the power as it comes in, storing the excess, and sharing that between the buildings for when there's not enough power, like at night."
"Ah, so professionally installed." The man nodded. "What made you go with solar?"
"Well, sounds like the city's maxed out on available utilities," I said.
Then we stepped inside. Most of the cabins had been cleaned up. No, that didn't mean they were ready for kids, but they were now bare instead of abandoned. The walls had spots showing where we'd patched the drywall. There were no window treatments, nothing was painted, and all the furniture that couldn't be salvaged had been removed and stored in the mess hall. The hope was to have one of those big dumpsters brought in later.
The fire marshal cared about none of it. In truth, the lack of stuff meant he could look closer at the walls, switches, and wiring. Then he paused to inspect the ceiling. When he was done, I took him to the next cabin where we repeated the process. It was the third one when Violet finally reached us.
"Good afternoon," she said as she stepped in. "I was told I might need to be here?"
"Vi," I said, gesturing to the man, "this is the fire marshal, here to see if we pass code."
"Good," she said, flashing the man a smile. "It's a pleasure, Mr..."
"Kyle Armstrong," he said, while handing her a business card. "I'm the fire inspector for Fannin County, here to see if these buildings are up to code. We can't authorize their use unless they pass."
"Not a problem," Violet said. "If there are any problems, we're happy to fix them while we're still in the construction phase."
"Oh, you'll fix them regardless of what phase you're in," he assured her before turning for the door and heading to the next cabin.
I caught Violet's eye and shook my head before she could snap at the man. Instead, she pulled in a deep breath through her nose, lifted her head, and followed after him. While we walked, I reached up to rest my hand on the small of her back, hoping that would help her stay calm.
The fire marshal looked at each and every cabin. Then he went to the cottage and checked that. A few times, he grumbled under his breath before making notes. Over and over, the man made a point of grunting with disgust, wrinkling his nose showing his distaste, or even rolling his eyes at what he saw. It was as if he was doing his best to prove just how substandard he thought our set up was.
The more offended the fire marshal seemed, the sweeter Violet became. It was as if she turned her charm all the way up to max. She didn't flirt; it was more accurate to say that she treated this like a professional business meeting, and she was the one who had invited him. Violet made it clear that the contractors were hired for their expertise, that she was hoping to make the most of her business venture, and she wasn't afraid to hear bad news.
When we reached the mess hall, Mr. Armstrong pointed out all of the kitchen appliances, saying that they were outdated. Violet waved that off, letting him know that we were going to discard all of this anyway. She was still looking for a place to recycle them, but she wanted to upgrade to top-of-the-line stuff. Since everything had been pulled away from the walls, it was hard to deny her statement - but it made it easier for the fire marshal to check the gas lines.
Then we concluded the inspection by heading over to the well house so he could see the solar batteries. I wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, but evidently the modern power walls weren't it. Mr. Armstrong pulled out a flashlight so he could peer behind the large batteries. He measured the spacing, double checked the wires, and then seemed to simply give up.
"Miss Dawson," the fire marshal said as he turned to face Violet, "you have a lot of top-of-the-line equipment here, but it appears that you've missed the most important thing."
"What's that?" She asked, looking a little confused.
"None of those cabins have smoke detectors in them. I didn't see a single carbon monoxide detector. Your entire fire prevention system starts with those. It doesn't matter how expensive or fancy your electrical system is, if it fails, a smoke detector is your best defense. I will not be able to approve this until you fix that."
I couldn't help but butt in. "We do have an entire box of combination detectors that we're going to install before opening. I can show you, if you'd like?"
"Sir, they don't help if they're in a box. I cannot approve this property until they're installed and operational." The fire marshal looked between the two of us. "Once that's complete, give me a call, I'll get you on the schedule, and then I'll come back and do this again."
