by T. F. Walsh
“Yeah, hydroponics is perfectly legal. But we try to keep the pot growers honest with our constant presence.” Byron gave a frustrated sigh. “Just do a quick look for the last name Xiang. The other name, Smith, is probably an alias.”
Lu scanned the files using a ruler to keep her eyes focused. She stifled a yawn as she finally got to the last page. “Nope. No Xiang or Smith for love or ready money.”
“Huh?”
“A paraphrase from Oscar Wilde. Your guys aren’t in here.”
“Okay, that’s it, we’re done.” He stood up and stretched. “Do you have any plans for the night?”
“I’m going to go spy on my friend Susan’s daughter,” Lu answered grumpily. Oh shit! Was he going to ask me out and I just blew it? “What about you?”
“I’ve got some bloody fundraiser thing.” He grimaced. “Why don’t we swap? I’ll spy and you eat the rubber chicken and laugh at politicians’ lame jokes.”
“I wish. I’ll see ya tomorrow?” It was hard to tell if he was going to ask her out, or if he just wanted to complain. Reynolds often bitched about functions to show off how connected he was, but Byron usually downplayed that sort of thing.
“You bet.”
CHAPTER 8
Lu shivered and tried once again to force the damn car window to go up. Shit. And where the hell was she? Somewhere back in cul-de-sac hell, probably not far from the Baker Street fire. She’d been so intent on following Kaitlynn’s boyfriend’s car that she hadn’t been able to get her bearings.
Lu fiddled with the Chevy’s heater knobs. The heat didn’t kick in and the door didn’t open. She glared at the door of the oversized, boxy house.
The stupid kid was still in there. It’d seemed so easy when Susan had asked her to check up on Kaitlynn, but Kaitlynn had come barreling out of Ross’s townhouse, met up with some skinny tattooed freak, and sped off in a beat-up muscle car.
Lu rubbed the space between her brows. Great, the kid’ll drive me to Botox. And what the hell could she tell Susan? Obviously Kaitlynn was here to buy drugs. It wasn’t a rave or kid’s party. And why was it taking so long? Give them the money and they give you the drugs.
A scream pierced the air and then abruptly stopped.
Lu scrambled to open her car door, her mind immediately flashing back to the woman in the fire on Baker Street. A side door crashed open and Kaitlynn ran outside. Her shirt was ripped. Before Lu could even yell to her, a huge bald guy grabbed the girl and dragged her back inside.
Lu dove back into the car for her phone. She started to dial and then wondered again where the hell they were. She punched 911 and screamed inwardly when the automated voice told her, “This number cannot — ”. Shit, they wouldn’t get here in time anyway. She sure as hell couldn’t take on a guy that big. And what’d happened to the sleazy boyfriend? She had to do something and quick. The telltale pounding in her head began and Lu automatically began counting back from ten with deep breaths. With a jolt she stopped. Instead of trying to stop her fire headache, what would happen if she tried to start a fire? Maybe it would save Kaitlynn.
Lu focused on the building, on her anger, the pain. Shit, what if she couldn’t start fires on purpose? Concentrate! Frustration, fear, agony. Tears streamed down her face and her head felt like it was being crushed in a vice. God, please …
A loud crashing noise pulled her out of her pain and she looked up to see a window shattering. A fireball flared into the fresh air. The explosions were deafening as more windows shattered almost joyfully in the black night. Then people in the house came careening out the door.
Through the smoke and confusion, she saw Kaitlynn stumbling outside. Lu ran out, grabbed the girl’s arm, and pulled her to the car. Turning the ignition, Lu noticed a strange man staring at her. Strange because, unlike the others, he wasn’t panicking. He reached inside his jacket and a chill raced through her. Thankfully, her little car didn’t stall when she floored the gas and sped off.
“Duck!” Lu shoved Kaitlynn’s head down while trying to figure out how to exit the bloody winding streets. Her eyes diverted, she sailed haphazardly over the curb, her right wheels tilting dangerously. Her poor car crash-landed on its front end, shattering her lights and showering sparks. Wrenching the car back under control, Lu pushed the car to its limit until she got to a street she recognized. A quick glance in the rearview mirror assured her they hadn’t been followed. And they hadn’t been shot at, she realized belatedly.
Sirens wailed from several different directions and Lu pulled to the side as a cop car raced by. The car stalled and died. She checked for any more emergency vehicles, but from the sirens it sounded as though the fire fighters were coming from the other direction. Lu wondered who was on duty tonight. God help her if someone got hurt.
“What’re you doing here?” Kaitlynn’s quiet voice seemed both scared and defiant.
Lu had almost forgotten about the girl.
“Your mom is worried about you.” Okay, that was a lame opener. The car sputtered back to life after only a few turns of the key.
“How — how did you find me?”
“I followed your skuzzy boyfriend’s car.”
“He’s not skuzzy.” Kaitlynn’s defense was automatic.
“Right.” Lu eased up on the gas pedal. She had to concentrate to keep from speeding with all the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. “So what went down?”
“He — they … I can’t — ” Kaitlynn dissolved into a spasm of sobs.
Lu focused on driving. Damn, she couldn’t do this nurturing shit. She’d just drop the kid at her home. Lu shut down her brain and focused on the road. She pulled up in front of the house and cut the engine. Kaitlynn sat there, mute and frozen.
“This is your place, right?”
“Jason didn’t know they were gonna — you know he wouldn’ta …” Kaitlynn sounded like she was trying her defense out on Lu first.
“Uh-huh. Did he have money for them, or just you?”
“Well he — I mean — you don’t understand …” Kaitlynn’s voice turned into a high-pitched wail.
“It’s up to you, kid,” Lu told her matter-of-factly. “If you want to become a cheap hooker to feed your drug habit, you can. I mean if you enjoy having disgusting, filthy losers use your body in degrading ways, go for it. But don’t try to pretend it’s something else. You’re not that stupid and neither am I.”
“You don’t understand.” The girl sounded stronger, not exactly what Lu was going for.
“Whatever. Let’s go.” She got out of the car and waited while Kaitlynn fussed with the seatbelt. “Lock your door.”
“Yeah, like someone’ll steal this piece of crap.”
“I’d rather have this shit than some fancy car I sold my body to buy,” Lu shot back.
“Fuck off.” Kaitlynn ran ahead to her house and Lu followed with reluctance. Kaitlynn had unlocked the door, slipped inside, and closed it before Lu had gotten to the top step. The lock clicked loudly into place.
Okay … Should she knock on the door and insist on talking to Ross? Susan hadn’t wanted him to know she was checking up on Kaitlynn, but then again this was way beyond what either of them had worried about. Shit. Would Ross even listen to her? After a moment more of standing indecisively on the porch, Lu turned back to her car. She had to call Susan tonight and she really couldn’t deal with both the parents.
The last thing she needed was to get pulled over for the broken headlight, so she drove home through back streets and alleys. The trip took absolute ages and Lu heaved a sigh of relief when she finally pulled into her parking spot. She’d have to get her car to the garage tomorrow and maybe take a bus or cab to the cop shop. Hopefully Byron wouldn’t notice her lack of wheels. Entering her apartment, Lu could see the message light on her answering machine blinking imperiously. Probably Su
san, anxious for her report. Lu poured herself a glass of wine before pushing the damn button.
“Thursday, five fifteen, you have one new message. Beeeeep. ‘Dawson? Reynolds here. You’re on night shift tomorrow. See you at eighteen hundred.’” There was the sound of mumbling in the background, and then dial tone.
Oh fuck, what did that mean? Reynolds had called before the fire, so it had nothing to do with that. But Byron hadn’t said anything. Had he known? Lu could feel her brain scrambling in eight different directions. She closed her eyes, did ten slow breaths, and then dialed Susan.
CHAPTER 9
“You’re back!” Ace hollered, his face breaking into a broad grin. “And you missed one heck of a call last night. Another frigging mansion, but this one practically burned to the ground before we even got there. It musta been a bomb or something. Nothin’ goes up that fast without help.”
“Anyone hurt?” Lu asked, praying for the right answer.
“No, thank God. The place was deserted, although I think the cops arrested someone running from the scene.”
“Really? And what did — ?”
“Listen up.” Reynolds walked into the middle of the room. “Today’s crew was busy with truck maintenance and cleaning after the big call last night, so take care of any housekeeping things you notice, and we should be back to regular schedule tomorrow.” He looked over at Lu and smiled. “I told Ralph we needed our full team and he agreed. So Dawson’s back. The cops’ll have to poach from someone else for a while.” Reynolds had a self-satisfied smirk as he added, “Maybe they can get some teachers or nurses to help them out.”
After the outgoing team’s report, Lu slunk away to the kitchen for coffee. She’d only been back at the fire hall for twenty minutes and she already felt restless. How was she going to feel after fourteen hours? Ace caught up to her again in the kitchen.
Ace pointed at the brewing coffee. “It’s espresso roast. Laurel Ann swears it’s the best.”
“Sounds good. So how’s it going with her?”
“She’s great. We’re going to the auto show next week. Then I got her tickets for the Mariners’ home game for her birthday in June.”
“Oh man.” Marcus walked in and stood behind Lu as they waited for the coffee to finish dripping. “Are you yammering on about Laurel Ann, again?”
“She asked.” Ace pointed his thumb at Lu. “You’re just jealous.”
“Right,” Marcus mumbled. He poured his coffee and sat down at the Formica topped table. “Anyone for cards?”
“Only if it’s a freebie game,” Lu said. “I can’t afford your poker stakes.”
“Sure.” Marcus didn’t look happy, but without Red working, he wasn’t going to get enough takers for Texas Hold ’Em anyway. He rifled the deck like a Vegas dealer. “How ’bout you, Ace?”
“Okay, for a while.” Ace slumped into a chair. “Whatcha dealing?”
“Rags to Riches. Cut for high.” Marcus drew a ten.
Lu settled into her chair and cut a three. Good, she didn’t have to call trump. Hopefully the game would last until Reynolds took off for bed. If they looked occupied, even in a stupid game, then Reynolds would be more likely to assign whatever crap duty was left over from the day shift to Gord. The only thing more boring than night shift would be night shift with cleaning.
Ace turned to Lu while Marcus dealt. “Did you and Morgan catch any arsonists? It seems like last night was probably the same guys, huh?”
“I dunno,” Lu answered. “Was it a grow-op?”
“Oh yeah. The Bellevue kid was sniffing around the building after, trying to get a contact high.” Ace laughed. “Man, I’m glad you’re back. That kid was a pain.” He sorted his cards and then added. “He was so full of himself. It was better when we didn’t hire those overeducated college kids.”
“He wasn’t so bad,” Marcus said. “Probably after a few calls he’ll calm down and stop trying to prove himself. Spades are trump.”
Ace groaned loudly. “How do you always pick my worst suit?”
“It’s only the first hand,” Marcus reminded him. “Lead, already.”
After only a few hands, Lu remembered why she didn’t enjoy playing cards with Marcus and Ace. Even when it wasn’t for money, they both took the game too seriously.
There was a familiar buzz in her pocket. Lu pulled her phone out and checked the display. If it was Susan she wasn’t going to answer. They’d talked until 4 A.M. last night and, much as Lu felt sorry for Susan, she couldn’t stand listening for another five hours tonight.
Byron’s name flashed on the display. How’d he get her cell number? Was she supposed to have called him this morning?
She hit the answer button and said, “Lu speaking.”
“Hey Lu.” Byron’s deep voice sent a shiver down her back, even over the phone. “Is this a bad time to call?”
“Nope, I’m just hard at work playing cards.” Lu stepped away from the table with an apologetic wave at Ace and Marcus.
“I figured Josh would’ve pulled you back for something important like that.” He chuckled. “Are you winning?”
“No.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind the interruption. Did you hear about the fire last night?”
“A little. Ace was on it.” Good response, she congratulated herself. Then if she said something she shouldn’t know, he’d assume Ace told her. “Do you think it’s the same guys?”
“The M.O. was different — faster timing. They hadn’t harvested yet and the fire spread quicker. But the rest of the operation matches up.”
“Maybe someone else set the fire before the owners were ready.”
“Or it could’ve been an accident.” There was silence. Then he added, “I know you’re not working for me anymore, but could I buy you dinner some night and get your thoughts on this case?”
“Sure. I can be bribed with food any time.” Lu turned so Ace and Marcus couldn’t see the smile that crept up on her face. Was he asking her on a date? Sort of?
“Great. How about tomorrow, Saturday, or Sunday?” Again that raspy chuckle. “Not that I’m rushing you, or anything.”
“Hmm, I should pretend to check my busy social calendar, but actually I’m pretty open.”
“I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow at six-thirty?”
“Sure.” Lu gave him the address and hung up. She put on her poker face and sat back at the table.
“Who was that, Lu?” Ace asked. “Hot date?”
“Only kind for a fire fighter,” she quipped. “Now whose play is it?”
“Yours. That’s my jack, spades are trump, and you need five tricks.”
“Thanks.” Lu put down her queen.
“Darn,” Ace grumbled.
“So when you guys did the overhaul, did it look like the same set up as the Baker Street fire?”
“I wasn’t on last night,” Marcus said, holding his hands up in defense.
“The shelving looked the same,” Ace said. “But obviously the house set up was different with people upstairs and the growing downstairs in the basement. Oh yeah, and there were a couple of computers.”
“Similar ventilation system?” Lu led her ace and took another trick.
“I guess.” Ace looked at her suspiciously. “Hey, you still investigating? Are you a whatchamacallit, a double agent?”
“Yeah, and I’m curious. We did so much snooping around, but I got pulled off before we got any answers.”
“Bummer,” Ace commiserated. “Do ya think Morgan’ll call you when he cracks the case?”
“Maybe.” Lu hoped she wasn’t blushing. Just discussing Byron with Ace made her feel guilty and a little embarrassed. What if it actually did turn into a relationship? She needed to work on concealing her emotions.
Reynold
s poked his head into the kitchen but, as hoped, left when he realized they were in the middle of a game. Gord was around somewhere. He’d get roped into whatever housekeeping chore had been neglected. Odds were, it’d be the bathroom — it was always done last in the hopes that something else would come up.
• • •
Driving her replacement car home at eight-thirty in the morning, Lu was both relieved and bothered by how quiet the night had been. After the insane night before, first dealing with Kaitlynn and the fire, and then with Susan sorting out the aftermath, she had dreaded a stressful shift. On the other hand, the lack of distractions had left her mind free to rehash all her worries. She’d spent much of the night blindly staring at the ceiling and chewing her thumbnail — a habit she’d given up ages ago. Maybe she needed to buy some sort of adult teether to save her nails. Or start chewing the ends of pens again.
Her brain hurt from juggling all her new anxieties. Byron was now investigating the fire that she’d actually started. Unless the cop car speeding by had noted her car, there wasn’t anything to link her to the fire. But with Byron, she couldn’t be positive he wouldn’t find something. And then that cold-looking oriental guy had gotten a good look at her and her car, the one she’d thought was going to shoot her. Would he assume she was somehow involved with either the fire or the cops? Or Kaitlynn? Shit, what about the girl? How addicted was she? Was she in love with the skuzz-bucket? Teen girls were crazy when their hormones were in overdrive.
Thinking of hormones brought Lu back to Byron. Should she be helping Byron when his solving the case could lock her up? But could she be found guilty of starting a fire when science didn’t even believe her abilities existed? And could she stay away from him? His voice on the phone had definitely sounded warmer. And this was a man who already set her libido on fire just with “Hello.”
Oh, fuck, now she was sounding like some stupid chick-flick bimbo.
Lu parked in her stall behind her apartment building and checked that she’d turned everything off. After so many years with her Chevy, this new vehicle, a 2001 Corolla, felt like a spaceship with all the extra electric gadgets. At least the guy at the garage said it should be quick to fix her car. She hoped he was honest since she hadn’t dared asked anyone at work about mechanics. Last thing she needed was someone wondering how she’d mangled her car.