Page 54 of Playing With Fire

“Well come on in. He’s—”

A dog barked. The timbre, pitch and volume were instantly familiar. Jodi turned on her heel.

Bubbles the Boodle, barely held back by a flustered Everett Thompson, strained joyously towards her new friend.

Another bark, surprisingly low-pitched for an animal which was any part poodle, was followed by a tail wag which nearly sent the small dumpy man flying.

Recognition dawned. Everett gave a stiff nod, every inch the dignified dog owner, and tried to haul Bubbles away.

“I’ll be back,” Jodi promised. She zipped up her coat and strode towards dog and man, now locked into a tug-of-war standoff. Bubbles appeared to be winning. Everett had given up wasting his breath on commands and was hanging on for dear life.

“Mr. Thompson,” said Jodi pleasantly. She waved a hand tentatively in the direction of the dog, who took this as an invitation to launch up on her hind legs towards Jodi.

“Sit!” roared Everett, shocking them all by the volume and ferocity of his voice.

Jodi’s legs wobbled as though her body was trying to join Bubbles, who was now slumped obediently in a tangle of limbs on the sidewalk, trapping Jodi’s foot underneath. The dog began worrying at Jodi’s boot laces, pausing to lick her ankle affectionately every now and then.

“Good dog,” said Jodi faintly.

“Miss,” said Everett frostily. “I take it that you are not seeking to reignite our previous contretemps. If you are considering action, either legal or some sort of public display on social media, which ought to be called antisocial media in my opinion, I must warn you that I will not yield to threats. Never have, never will.”

Jodi mustered her warmest smile.

“Of course not. A misunderstanding. I’m sure we can agree that tempers were...a little high.”

Everett made a harrumphing sound somewhere between a snort of derision and reluctant agreement.

“My thoughts exactly,” she continued smoothly, as though Everett had actually spoken. “But when I saw you just then, it occurred to me that you could be a valuable witness.”

One grey bushy eyebrow went up. Jodi hurried on before another harrumph could escape.

“Being a responsible dog owner, and someone who clearly takes their health seriously, I imagine that you walk in the park quite often.”

Everett inclined his head gravely. Yes, he was both those things.

“I am prepared to bet that you are observant.” Jodi watched Everett consider whether or not he had just been called a busybody.

She continued. “Most people aren’t, you know. Observant.”

The old man nodded agreement.

She hurried on. “It’s the firebug, you see. You will have read about the recent fires in trash bins and then the fire in the shed at the Temple Mountain Retirement Village?”

“Indeed. And I know who you are, Ms. Ruskin. Acting Editor for The Temple Mountain Monitor. I said down, Bubbles,” he added sharply.

The dog lowered her rump again with a deep sigh. Everett’s nostrils quivered.

“And you are hoping that I will tell you that I did happen to spot a shady character carrying a bag of matches and accelerants around public parks—and that, having spotted the culprit in action, I decided not to tell the authorities. Correct?”

Jodi felt her lungs deflate. When he put it like that...

“But cheer up, Ms. Ruskin.” There was an actual twinkle in his eyes. “It happens that I do have some information for you, or for young Mr. Sharp, who has the misfortune to be working for that fool Leroy Browning. I taught Leroy first year law at Rochester College, and the boy was always more interested in the opposite sex than in tort law.”

Bubbles, bored now that the shoelaces were in shreds, sat up, leaning hard against Jodi’s leg. Everett smiled benignly. Jodi wondered how long she could stay upright.

“I told you Bubbles is a sweetie,” said Everett.

Jodi considered risking a pat, but settled on a cheesy grin in the dog’s direction.

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