Page 48 of Flame it Up

Mazie headed for the kitchen bench, finding a stack of pamphlets for the nearby restaurants. She decided that spoiling herself by ordering in was the best option, especially since she was in no mood to cook, even if she hadn’t been overwhelmed by the sight of Pyrus’s pantry.

She ordered a breakfast burrito from a place nearby. When she tried to pay, they told her that anything to Mr. Bloodmoon’s place would go on his account, and she didn’t have to pay.

Feeling very spoiled and cared for, Mazie called a famous bakery next. She ordered a box of mixed donuts and a very fancy coffee. Again, she was told that anyone from Mr. Bloodmoon’s address did not need to pay.

Once she’d ordered her food, Mazie took a walk around the condo. She’d seen most of it the night before, but not in any detail.

On the wall in a far corner of the living room, there was a large frame full of pinned photographs. Mazie paused in front of it, amazed that some very old, black and white pictures were in the collage. Pyrus was in some of them, and she realized these were literal snapshots from his entire life.

In the top corner was a stained sepia picture of Pyrus in old-fashioned britches holding the reins of a tall, noble-looking horse. Another black and white photo showed him on a bicycle … another in a very old-fashioned motorcar. It hit Mazie with a sudden bolt of knowledge that he might still own these antiques.

She let her eyes flow across the massive collage, picking out scenes of Pyrus in foreign cities, near landmarks, and in remote areas of wilderness. There were photographs of every age as if Pyrus had loved cameras since their invention and always made sure he had the most updated equipment.

She wandered down the hallway, feeling a bit lost in the face of so much personal history. There was so much of Pyrus that she didn’t know, and even seeing a brief snapshot of his history had been too much to take.

In a small nook down the hall was a display case of glass cubes. In one box was a bit from a horse’s bridle, old fashioned but highly polished. Mazie would have bet anything that it was the exact same one that had been on the horse in the picture. There were other strange items, like uncut opals, raw gems, and small pieces of twisted metal.

She couldn’t wait to ask Pyrus where these things were from and what they meant to him. Pyrus was definitely sentimental and had preserved these mementos so he could hold on to fragments of his past.

A very loud, sudden rap came from the front door. Mazie jumped, her hand going to her pocket. It had to be the food delivery, but it was odd that they hadn’t texted or called her first. She hurried for the door and undid the locks.

Her hand hovered on the chain, and at the last minute, she decided to leave it on. She peeked through the slit in the door and saw a very well-dressed tall man with a commanding presence. Behind him hovered a couple of tough guy goons with hard, impassive faces.

“What do you want?” she asked. “Who are you?”

The man’s face broke into an easy smile, and he pulled off his shades so he could give her a friendly look. Mazie wasn’t buying it … literally, because it looked like he was about to try and sell her something.

Fake smile, cool eyes, this guy makes a living out of fucking people over.

“Hello, my dear,” he said in a smooth, easy tone. “I’m Richard, and I’m a good friend of Pyrus’s. These are my business associates. We heard that Pyrus is back in town, and we were hoping to see him.”

Mazie frowned. She didn’t understand why they were here at Pyrus’s house if it was business. It would make more sense if they tracked him down at work. “He’s at work,” she said firmly. “I think you’d know that if you were in business with him.”

“Of course,” Richard said. His voice had turned slightly placating, and it was pissing her off, even though she was trying to be polite.

“Pyrus is very difficult to get a hold of,” Richard said. “We know he’ll be home before long and decided to come here to meet up with him. Our business is of a delicate nature.”

“Really,” Mazie said, glaring at him. The two goons behind him had barely moved, and with their dark shades still on, she had no idea what they were even looking at, let alone thinking.

“Really!” Richard said, laughing. It was as if he thought a little humor would help her to trust him. Instead, she felt like slamming the door on his self-satisfied grin.

“My dear,” Richard said, “won’t you invite us in? I really am an old friend of his. He won’t mind a bit if we wait here for him.”

Mazie clung to the door, peeking through the tiny crack. The strip of chain which held the door had seemed unbreakable when she left it hooked on, but now it looked as flimsy as spider silk. She knew they could push into the room in a blink if she pissed them off.

They might too. I’ve got serious bad vibes from these guys.

“No, sorry,” Mazie said. “I’m not letting you in. I suggest you call Pyrus and set up a meeting. Goodbye.”

“Wait, wait!” Richard said, his tone slightly alarmed. He raised a hand but didn’t touch the door. Mazie paused. She would have slammed it shut immediately if he’d made any kind of move for the door.

It was the change of posture and the troubled look on his face, as well as the fact he didn’t attempt to force the door, that made her pause. “What?” she muttered.

Richard shook his head. “I’m sorry. I wish it hadn’t come to this, really. I was hoping to spare you. Pyrus is involved in some bad stuff … and I mean really bad stuff.”

“What do you mean?” she asked softly.

Richard’s face was grim. “He’s been working with the mob. At first, it was just goods, cash, and drugs. Bad enough if you ask me. But now innocent people are getting hurt. He has to be stopped.”

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