Page 92 of Playing With Fire

“What the blazes?”

Chief Browning walked in. His beautifully cut and pressed uniform was crumpled, and his thin hair had been flattened by his hat.

His eyes flicked across the group; first at his daughter, furious and sullen behind her desk, and then at Jodi, who met his gaze with a cool stare of her own. And finally, his employee.

The Chief looked at the open cupboard, and the tangle of sleeping bags which had tumbled to the floor. A soda can lay on its side, dribbling pink liquid onto the carpet, and there was a strong smell of pizza and unwashed teenager.

Browning inhaled deeply. He swiveled to Jodi and pointed a large stubby finger. “This conversation is private and personal, Ms. Acting Editor. One word, and you’ll never crawl out from under the lawsuits.”

Ricky stiffened. He opened his mouth to give Browning a piece of his mind but felt Jodi press her hand gently on his arm. She threw the Chief a calm, measured look that made the large man pause.

The Chief’s eyes narrowed. His breath whistled through his nostrils as he fought for control.

Ricky sighed. At this minute, he was still an officer of the Temple Mountain Fire Department and this man was his boss.

“Here’s what I think happened,” Ricky said carefully. “Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, Bonnie.”

Bonnie’s eyes were chips of ice. She wasn’t giving out a thing.

“Joshua and Judah spent a lot of time out here at the retirement village. In fact, they spent more hours outdoors roaming around the town parks than they spent indoors or at school. Maybe it’s because the twins feel safer outside, considering how they grew up. And they did set those fires last year.”

Chief Browning gave a huff of satisfaction. “Like I said—”

“—and I think that Bonnie here caught them at it one time. Gave them a piece of her mind like a good citizen,” Ricky continued smoothly. “Made the boys empty their pockets and then confiscated their matchbooks too.”

The small room had begun to feel close, stuffy. The crackle of tension was almost audible. Both Brownings glared at him.

Ricky kept going. “And then Bonnie had the brilliant idea that these apprentice firebugs would create a perfect public safety issue for her father’s election campaign.”

“What!” The Chief’s outraged voice bounced off the walls. His face turned an alarming shade of puce. “What the f—, I mean, goddamned blazes do you mean by that? You think that my daughter encouraged those boys to light fires in trash bins and then...” His voice went up a notch. “Stood by and watched as they lit a fire right here in the village, with all these old folks around? I ought to horsewhip you son!”

“No, I don’t think that.” Ricky’s words took all the steam out of the older man.

Leroy Browning’s mouth dropped open. He glanced at Bonnie, who was staring at a mediocre print of Washington Crossing the Delaware as though skeptical of the general’s chances of success.

“This next bit is a guess,” said Ricky. Jodi sat silently at his shoulder, her coat smelling of damp wool in the warm air. The twig was still tangled in her scarf.

“The boys refused, so you did it yourself. You knew they would keep their mouths shut, whatever happened. It’s not hard. There’s nothing you can’t find on the internet, right Bonnie?”

She shrugged. “A couple of pizza boxes, a bit of smoke. Anyone could have done it. Nothing to say it was me.” Her smile was sly.

Her father jerked back to life. “That’s enough Bonnie. Not a single word more.”

Ricky could almost see the calculations running through the Chief’s mind.

“I’ve heard enough of your bullshit, Sharp.” His tone dropped. “I’m not surprised that your employers sent you on compassionate leave. You lost the plot in New York, son. And now you’re done in Temple Mountain too.”

Browning marched to the door and wrenched it open.

Ricky rose to his feet. He held out a hand to Jodi. Pale and composed, she slipped her hand into his. He encased her long pale fingers in his scarred palm and turned back to Bonnie.

Her face wore the smooth, satisfied expression of a person whose cleverness remains unsurpassed.

“Would you like to know how we knew that Joshua and Judah hadn’t torched the old shed?” he asked conversationally.

Bonnie shrugged. Ricky took a small step towards the desk, still gripping Jodie’s hand.

“Because that was the boys’ secret place, their bolt hole. The place they stored their backpacks, a few supplies in case their father finally tracked them down and they had to run. The man who had abused and neglected them. There is no way they would burn that stuff.”

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