Olson began unbuckling his bulky coat. “Too soon for that.”
“What about the factory fire?” George asked. “There’s a rumor it was arson.”
Olson shot him a look, then yelled: “Blake!”
So much for covering Mac’s back. He’d already taken his coat off and was in the heavy pants, boots, suspenders and dark t-shirt which was stained with sweat as he talked to a younger firefighter, his brother Chris who looked just like him. Steam was rising from Mac’s body in the chill night air. He came hurrying over. “Captain?”
“You’ve been talking about the factory?” Olson asked him.
Mac took it straight on. “I mentioned it to Vince, Captain.”
Olson nodded. “Okay.” He faced George. “It’s likely, but I figure if it was, it was an accident. Some teenagers smoking dope or something. A one-off. But now? Two in a few months? That’s not good. I’ll double-check in the morning. But it’s likely someone started the fire out back. There are accelerant marks. I don’t suppose you have any firebugs in town that you know of?”
George looked grim. “If Mickey Pitts was around, I’d say him. He burnt down the damn church when he was a kid. But he’s in prison and that was long ago.”
The only Pitts I knew was Jim, a kid I was trying to help. And then it clicked. Jim’s father was in prison.
An interior wall of the museum fell in, sending sparks everywhere and Olson’s guys scrambling.
“Oh, hell,” George said, even though he must have known it was hopeless.
It was also Burney’s only tourist attraction, feeble though it was, so another blow to the town.
“I’m sorry, George,” I said and meant it.
“Bad news comes in threes,” George muttered.
“That’s an old wives’ tale,” I said.
“Old wives’ tales exist for a reason,” George said.
“I’ll coordinate with Olson when he’s done here,” I promised George. “Open a case file.”
George absently nodded, but he was staring at the wreckage and whatever energy my pep talk had given him earlier today, now yesterday, was gone.
TUESDAY
Posted on BurneyCommunityNews on Facebook, Tuesday 9AM:
Well, we’ve stopped the terrible posts thanks to the work of the computer class at Burney High School. Thank you, children, you truly are our future. Also, our Page Administrator, MaryLou Blue, has asked me to post that anyone wishing to donate to the legal defense fund of MaryLou Blue can go to her page at GoFundMe.
Thank you, Faye Blue, Page Administrator Pro Tem
Posted on BurneyCommunityNews on Facebook, Tuesday 9:15 AM
HAVE YOU HEARD ABOUT THE DEATHS OF THE BLUES?
The barely beating heart of what remains of Burney, the Cardboard Museum, has burned down in an obvious case of arson, nearly the last of what remains of Cleveland Blue, the Cardboard King. His abandoned factory burned, his son Navy died in an “accident” at the hairpin turn, and his daughter Lavender, newly married to Cash Porter, was “accidentally” murdered by her aunt, MaryLou Blue. Cleve’s brother Dayton is still with us, as are his two daughters, Molly and Liz, but all that’s left of Cleve is his little granddaughter, Periwinkle. All our sympathies to Cash on his loss, although it does mean that he can bail out the big Vermillion Inc. development with his inheritance from his slaughtered bride. Pretty good payoff there for four hours of marriage, Cash!
Stay tuned for the shocking answers and more thought-provoking questions. Go to BurneySecrets&Lies at ThomasThacker.online and pre-order the forthcoming tell-all e-book on Burney and all its dark secrets. You will not be disappointed.
Chapter Nine
“Somebody’s going to kill him,” I told Anemone the next morning.
I’d woken up alone at the Big Chef, got back to the Blue House in time to run my five miles past the burned-out Cardboard Museum which explained where Vince had gone, dialed upBurn Down This Townon the phone in honor of the museum to get back up that damn hill, showered, and then gone downstairs to the dining room to meet the new cook and check out her breakfast skills.
“They’re going to go for his throat.” I looked at Thacker’s post again. I was still damp from my shower because the Blue House was ridiculous, but it had fabulous bathrooms. I had to get Vince into that shower; it had so many different jets and functions, we’d be in there for days. “And what’s this Vermillion Inc. bit? I thought Cash was behind the offers being made.”