Page 53 of Playing With Fire

Ricky cleared his throat. “So, in my view, the best way forward is to warn whoever is out there that fire and chemicals don’t mix. I’ve got The Monitor on board. And in the meantime, keep working through the evidence from all the fires...”

Leroy’s fist slammed the desk. His face was pink.

“Is that your opinion Mr. New York Fire Department Lieutenant? You never seen the wind change...” Leroy snapped his fingers, “just like that, never seen a few sparks turn into an inferno in the space of a few seconds? You ever think about the crap that might be in those trash bins, accelerants or flammables that can explode and blow off a child’s fingers?”

Ricky flushed.

“I agree Chief,” he said tightly. “And I’ve seen all those things happen.” He pushed aside the chilling images. “But we need more evidence that Joshua and Judah are responsible. Evidence that won’t get shot down by a lawyer or thrown out of court. And whether this is an acceleration or something new, we got to find them fast.”

The muffled sounds of the busy street outside; a honking car, a burst of laughter, a distant ambulance siren—only added to Ricky’s growing sense of urgency. He was getting up to leave when Browning’s parting shot pulled him up short.

“And you keep your eyes on Ms. Ruskin and your hands off her. This is Temple Mountain, son. You can’t do a thing without the whole place knowing.” Browning smirked. “Oldest trick in the book, cozying up to a powerful man to sweet talk him into spilling the beans.”

Ricky’s face was taut with anger.

“Jodi Ruskin is a professional, and I’m willing to put my career on the line to vouch for her integrity,” he said through stiff lips. “Keeping the media informed and on our side is being smart.”

He was about to add something to the tune of and-mind-your-own-fucking-business, but managed to clamp his mouth shut.

Leroy chuckled.

“Your call then, son.” The Chief’s tone blended affability with threat. “That sweet girl has your career in her hands—and don’t think for a minute that conduct unbecoming can be left behind here in little old Temple Mountain. I got plenty of friends in New York City.”

Chapter Eight

Lottie answered the door. She looked pleased to see Jodi, which was a nice change from the last hour door-knocking opposite the park near the basketball courts.

All Jodi had learned was that most people were too busy keeping an eye on their own children when they went to the park to watch out for people behaving suspiciously around the trash cans.

One person offered, as a well-known fact, that bikers from Rochester had been sighted last summer sitting on the picnic tables eating fast food and drinking cans of beer, and that the town council ought to round ’em up like mustangs and send them to boot camp to get a dose of discipline.

Another had noticed a suspicious man hanging around the trash bins for days at a time. That information had gotten Jodi’s pulse firing, until she realized that the neighbor had spotted Ricky on the job.

“Are you here for Ricky?”

Jodi nodded. She thought about explaining that they were working together, and that she was simply picking him up for a quick meeting. At her place.

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