Page 128 of Burn It Down

“Well, I have something to say to you.”God, I wish I had a voice for this.

He furrows his brows and jerks his head back. “Jacob, what’s wrong with your voice?” He sounds annoyed that he can’t hear me more than concerned for my condition.

“Cut the shit. Don’t act like you don’t know about the fire. You really expect me to believe Cora did that on her own?”

Martin opens the door wider, bracing himself on it.

“Jacob, what are you talking about? What about Cora? She left for the airport two days ago, trying to put the pieces of her life back together.”

“She wasn’t on a plane two days ago. The day before yesterday, she was committing arson and attempting murder.”

Martin studies my face. “Jacob, are you on something?”

“Where is Cora?” In my head it’s a bellow. In reality, it’s a whimper.

“I already told you, she’s gone.”

“Fuck.”I call Lieutenant Stewart right there in front of Martin. “She’s gone. Her father said she left for the U.K two days ago. She must’ve taken a flight right after the fire.”

“Jacob, what are you doing with the governor?”

“Please, just check the passenger manifests or something.Find her.” I beg. Forcing my voice causes me to taste the tang of blood.

Even if she was coerced, she can’t just get away. Yes, I fucked up. I messed around with Dylan while she and I were “together”, but that doesn’t excuse her attempt to burn him alive.

Lieutenant Stewart tells me to be careful and that he’s sending an officer to Governor Cosey’s before ending the call.

Martin reaches out and grasps the lapel of my jacket, hauling me over the threshold into his house.

“Jacob, what the hell is going on? Who were you just talking to and why are you sending them after Cora?”

“I have to hand it to you, Governor, this is quite the convincing display of ignorance.”

“What are you talking about?!”he roars, shaking me violently by my shoulders.

I decide to play along and gauge his reactions. “Someone torched Dylan’s shop two nights ago.” My throat is screaming at me. Begging me to shut the hell up before I cause permanent damage, but even if I’m never able to speak again, by God, I’ll make it through this.

“And you think it was Cora?”

I reach in my coat pocket for my phone and pull up the images from the camera feed Dylan sent me, less concerned about recording him and more concerned about gauging his reaction to the evidence.

“Tell me, Martin, what do you see?”

I pause and zoom in on the frame with Cora’s necklace. My heart hammers in my chest as I watch the color drain from his face. He takes one step backward and falls to the couch.

“Cora did this? I don’t understand.” His eyes stay glued to my screen as they alternate between narrowing and widening in disbelief.

I don’t think Martin is this good of an actor, especially when he leans forward and vomits on the Persian rug beneath his feet.

“Tell me about your properties.” I refuse to believe he isn’t involvedsomehow, even if he didn’t know about the fire. He can’t even raise his head, but doesn’t argue when I bring him a glass of water from the kitchen. Staring at his mess on the floor, he begins talking.

“What do you want to know, Jacob? You’ve seen everything. The closing documents were all included in the paperwork I gave you.”

“What about the property with my dad?” I’m too keyed up to sit so I pace, trying to get my mind to stay focused.

“We bought it back in the early spring. He had ideas to gentrify the area. Of course, you can’ttellpeople that’s what you’re doing, it just has to happen over a period of time. When he went for the second property, he told me…”

“He told youwhat?”

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