Page 19 of Fire for Effect

We had always exchanged house keys when we were teammates. A habit we continued despite the night we could not talk about. Once a year, she promised to check that my DC condo hadn’t burned down, and that I hadn’t left some rotting food in the fridge. If she was being a smart ass, she’d tell me that she’d watered my plastic plants, and taken an upper decker in all the toilets.

Why did I have her keys? Well, because it was a safety precaution. She always sent me a copy of her keys with the numerous addresses she had had over the years.

How the fuck could she think that we were just friends?

“Tell me something fun,” I said, putting her on the spot, feeling the bitterness welling up inside me again, and needing to tamp it down.

“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. “Did you know it takes five pounds of C4 for every pound of body weight to atomize a person?”

I thought about that, trying to do the calculation. To atomize a body? As in split all it’s atoms? Carry the one… how many joules…?

“So, it’d take you 1000 pounds to atomize me? That’s like… 800 bricks of C4. That’s a wildly impractical way to dispose of incriminating evidence.”

“Right? Which leads me back to alligators as my favorite cadaver removal service.”

“You really hated the Florida phase of Ranger School, huh?” I said with a grin.

She hated humidity and water. She was all about fire and heat. If it wasn’t for finding an outlet as a pyrotechnic, or engineer, she’d probably be put away for arson.

“Didn’t you?” She chuckled, and it sounded like bells chiming; light and sweet. “Or are you a fan of swamp ass?”

“I like nut butter, too. I spready it on croissants,” I countered, trying to gross her out even though I knew she’d take it in stride. “And you’re disgusting.”

“I made you laugh.”

“Just because I’m laughing doesn’t mean I’m joking.”

There was shuffling on her end, and I wondered where the hell she was. Was she outside? In her trailer? Was she out and about? What was she wearing?

Sierra’s fist pounded on side of the van, warning me that my time was up.

“I gotta go,” I grumbled as Sierra’s scowling face appeared in the fucking window. God damn creep!

“Alright.”

I had to know if she was safe. At least for now, until I could get there. Matthews had very, very specifically mentioned her, and I had to be sure…

“What’s the security like around your house?” I asked, hoping she’d understand what I was asking.

“I’ve got motion detectors, cctv and an armory.”

The armory, of course, being her own little collection of pistols and rifles. Fucking hot.

Relief filled my chest. “Nothing unusual happening around you in the last few days, right?”

“Nothing but the coy-dogs and owls.”

“What’s a coy-dog?”

“A coyote-dog hybrid. They’re really cute.”

“Please tell me you didn’t adopt one.”

There was a brief silence, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. When her voice came over the speaker, she gave me the answer I already knew was coming.

“His name is Cody.”

“You sure it’s a he?”

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