Page 60 of Playing With Fire

Her eyes skipped past the descriptions of the effects of milkshake on fires and newsprint.

She froze.

“Oh no,” she said softly.

Fire Chief Leroy Browning at first dismissed any link between the widely condemned fires last year and the current trash can conflagrations, describing it as “fanciful b*** from folks who should know better”. When pressed by this intrepid reporter, the Chief said that he would follow up the matter with his temporary assistant, former New York firefighter Ricky Sharp, and that “heads would roll if there had been a foul-up in the investigation”.

Jodi closed her eyes briefly and thought about going back to bed.

She opened her eyes. She was the Acting Editor. And as Harry S. Truman had noted, The Buck Stops Here.

And Dougie got full marks for thoroughness. Not only had he contacted previous witnesses and victims, the keen reporter had asked them to speculate about the new fires. All this at a time when most folks in Temple Mountain were watching contestants on reality shows being yelled at by Special Forces instructors, music celebrities wearing dreadful clothes, or cooking show judges rolling their eyes at sunken soufflés.

In other words, a time when people were all fired up and keen to get back to the television to witness the inevitable walk of shame.

“Speculation. The reporter’s worst enemy and the libel lawyer’s best friend,” muttered Jodi. She braced herself.

“Why is the county using Temple Mountain as a dumping ground for feral kids straight out of New York City?” asked the head coach, who said she was “personally sick of trying to control these children, though of course one felt sympathy for their situation, and [that] local parents ought to be warned when the county dumped these hard-cases in the community.”

Nuff said, thought Jodi wearily. As far as Temple Mountain was concerned, Joshua and Judah were guilty as charged.

The Chief’s Assistant Ricky Sharp (who must have been hauled out of bed at dawn by the super-keen Dougie) had declined to comment on the specifics of the investigation, Jodi learned, warning folks not to jump to conclusions and adding he was not yet convinced that the cases were linked.

Chief Browning however, told The Monitor that an early arrest was expected, and that judgement would be swift. When asked about rumors that his daughter Bonnie Browning, Manager at Temple Mountain Retirement Village, knew the suspects, the Chief expressed frustration at “those media people who don’t abide by the standards of decency and the right to privacy that the Constitution entitles every American to”.

Jodi barely noticed the hanging preposition.

Further, the Chief said he would “support an investigation into whether The Temple Mountain Monitor had withheld important information about the arson”.

“Thanks Dougie,” said Jodi. Sympathetic as she was to the plight of Skippy the Kangaroo and the vanishing beaches in the South Pacific, she wished their local champion had never taken up the banner of journalistic justice.

She forced herself to finish.

While Chief Browning would not comment on whether he will run for the office of mayor when the current incumbent retires next summer, he did suggest that the Fire Department would soon be looking to recruit new staff to bring a fresh vision of how the department could best serve the Temple Mountain community.

Jodi closed the screen. Numb, she scrolled back through the messages on her phone, seeking the one name that wasn’t there.

Ricky Sharp.

***

“I warned you against talking to Jodi Ruskin, son. I’ve been in this game for a long time, and I know exactly how those high and mighty busybodies work. They target the weakest link, pretend to be your best buddy, promise confidentiality. And then they cut your legs out from underneath quick as can be.”

Hours later Chief Leroy Browning’s words were still ringing in Ricky’s ears. Enduring overloaded metaphors and an unlovely description of Jodi at the unsociable hour of 7:30 in the morning had been enough of a trial without Ricky’s suspicion that the old guy had a point.

But Ricky knew that his own drama, the sense of personal betrayal that had lodged in his chest like a chunk of stone, would have to wait.

“Your job is on the line here,” Browning had continued, “and I can tell you without a doubt that failing to bring these boys in when there’s a threat to the public will kill your career. You are already on ‘special leave’, which is shorthand for ‘unreliable’ in my book. So quit pussyfooting around, son, and bring those boys in here for questioning. I want them shaking in their boots so they understand that this is the big league now. No more kiddie court.”

The Chief had paused for breath, his high color reflecting his agitation.

“I know there’ll be a shitload of objections and special arrangements because those little thugs are underage, but do what you have to.”

Browning had stomped out, and now Ricky stared at his laptop, grateful for the silence and pondering his next steps.

In a town as small as Temple Mountain, Dougie had served up Joshua and Judah as the most likely culprits for both past and current arson investigations. The story also had put both Ricky and Jodi’s future on the line.

Ricky checked his cell again. Jodi had sent a single message.

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