Hot, Shot, and Bothered

by Nora McFarland

  At the center of the blighted land sat a large, two-story house with all its lights on.

  We parked in front of the long front porch with several other cars. We pulled our handkerchiefs up over our noses and mouths and got out. I gagged, but then began adjusting to the smell of freshly cut timber and burnt grasses.

  I noticed for the first time that the driveway continued past the house and looped around to another structure some fifty yards away.

  Bell handed me a yellow firefighter’s jacket like the one she wore. “Put this on.”

  It was still early in the day and the temperature hadn’t risen, but the jacket looked bulky and hot. “I’d rather not.”

  As if on cue, a warm gust of air blew ash into our faces.

  “On second thought . . .” I put on the stiff fabric. It was a little big for me—the sleeves hung down to the tips of my fingers—but to my surprise the fabric was fairly light.

  Bell gestured to three fire engines in the distance. Work lights running off portable generators lit crews loading cut trees and other debris onto a huge truck. “I need to check in with the superintendent before I do anything else. I know you said the fire’s not your primary focus, but do you want to interview any of the crew?”

  I told her I doubted it, but wanted to keep my options open.

  After she left, I glanced up at the house. The white wood planks covering the house’s exterior were coated with ash and soot. I recognized a screened-in porch at one end of the house. Above it on the second floor was a glassed-in porch, which probably had spectacular views of the valley. The house itself was even bigger than the Fitzgeralds’ McMansion, but felt more personal. Above the front door was another wood sign, reading WELCOME TO BONNY HAZEL.

  I noticed an open trunk on a nearby Prius. I decided to take a quick look. It was full of plastic containers roughly the size of shoe boxes. Air holes were punched in the lids and each contained a lizard—I mean salamander. I felt a twinge of regret that Rod wasn’t with me.

  Only a tiny amount of ash had accumulated inside the trunk, so it probably hadn’t been left open for long.

  I heard a noise and then a woman walked around the side of the house.

  She crossed into the light coming from the front windows. She had long, wavy gray hair and carried more of the plastic boxes.

  I thought there was something familiar about the woman, so I stepped forward to intercept her. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

  “No.” She had a bohemian air, but still managed to look elegant in a long skirt and peasant blouse. “I don’t live here and I’m about to leave.” She continued past me to the Prius with the open trunk.

  “Season.” The cry came from a girl running out the front door and was directed at the woman. The girl had pronounced the name like the word season, but I remembered a more exotic spelling from the Green Seed website.

  The nonprofit’s former executive director had spelled her name Ceasonne. Even with the handkerchief covering most of her face, I now recognized her from one of the pictures I’d looked at online. She’d been wearing an orange sarong at a black-tie fund-raiser. Her husband, in a tuxedo, had been the one with his arm around Jessica.

  “I just checked my e-mail, and it’s horrible.” The girl who’d run out of the house had blond hair and wore shorts and a tank top.

  Ceasonne loaded the boxes into the trunk. “Cathy, I told you not to get on the Internet. You upset a lot of people and it’s going to take time to die down.”

  The girl came into the light. Cathy didn’t wear a handkerchief and I easily recognized her from Dennis’s video. Her sound bite had gone national, then viral. This was the girl who’d been cavalier about putting firefighters’ lives in danger.

  “But it’s so awful,” she said. “There’s even a Facebook page about how terrible I am, and it’s got over three hundred thousand fans.” She started crying. “And I clicked to look and my grandma is one of them.”

  Ceasonne made a few final adjustments to the boxes in the trunk. “That’s why I told you not to get on the Internet. Did you think I was making it up?”

  Two more young women had followed Cathy out of the house. One of them hurried to Cathy’s side. “I’m sorry about your grandma, but I’m sure it was an accident.”

  “That’s what my mom says.” Cathy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I guess Ma-Ma thought she was liking me, but instead she liked the page that hated me.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.” I took a few steps so I stood between Ceasonne and the girls. “But I really need to speak with you. It’s about a woman named Jessica Egan.”

  Ceasonne froze, about to shut the trunk. For a moment everyone was silent, then she slammed it closed. “This isn’t the best time. Can I give you my business card?”

  “No. I’d really like to talk now.”

  “It’s terrible.” Cathy sounded emotional, but I wasn’t sure if that was sadness for Jessica or residue from Ma-Ma’ Facebook accident. “Farris told us what happened. I can’t believe it. I was just down at the lake taking samples on Tuesday.”

  I straightened. “Do the people who live here have access to a boat?”

  Cathy glanced at the others before answering. “Dr. Polignac keeps one. We use it to study the Terrill salamander.” She gestured away from the house. “The creek here used to be its only known habitat, but now it’s migrated to the lake.”

  I looked at the young women. All three were tall, thin, and blond. “And you all live here with Dr. Polignac?”

  They nodded. “We’re undergrads at UCLA,” one said. “But we’re doing internships this summer in molecular biology.”

  I looked at Ceasonne. “And you?”

  “I live in Los Angeles, where I’m going now.” She pointed to the girls. “Are your cars packed and ready?” All three said they were. “Then we need to get on the road.”

  “Wait, please,” I said to her. “I need to talk to you about Jessica.”

  Ceasonne reached into her car and pulled out a purse. She found a business card and walked back around to the rear to give it to me. “Call me, but if you’re looking for Jessica’s next of kin, I believe her father lives in Elizabeth. He’ probably the one you should talk to.”

  The business card said CEASONNE POLIGNAC, EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR, ART FOR LIFE. There was an L.A. address and phone number.

  I started to tell her I wasn’t with the police, but stopped myself. “Do you know if Jessica had a shoulder injury?”

  She walked back around to the driver’s side. “A bad one. Rotator cuff I think.”

  “Do you know if she still had the injury when she died?”

  “I assume so.” She pointed to the front door. The mad scientist rushed out with an armload of clear plastic boxes. “Ask my husband. He’s seen her much more recently.” Her tone implied he wouldn’t be her husband for much longer.

  FIFTEEN

  Friday, 6:27 a.m.

  The mad scientist hurried down the porch steps. “Ceasonne, wait.” He wore a lab coat, but his legs were bare. For a moment I feared he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Then the white fabric fluttered and I saw a pair of khaki shorts.

  Ceasonne pointed to the three girls. “We’re leaving.” She got in her car and slammed the door shut. Cathy hurried to a loaded Jeep while the other two girls got inside an SUV.

  “Wait.” The mad scientist ran around to Ceasonne’s window. Just like in Dennis’s video, his graying hair stood up in places. “Darling, I know you’re angry, but I can’t leave. I have to protect my research.”

  I had a hard time believing that the mad scientist, with his ridiculous accent and hysterical tone, was the same debonair man in a tuxedo who’d been in the photo with Ceasonne and Jessica.

  Ceasonne rolled down her window. “I’m not angry, dear. Do whatever you think is best.” She started to roll her window back up, but he tried to stop her.

  “Wait. I need you to take more samples with you.”

  “All ful
l, dear.” She finished raising the window and backed up.

  The mad scientist ran to the SUV. He was able to pass the boxes to the two girls. All three cars backed up in preparation to leave.

  I approached him. “Can I talk to you?”

  He looked at my yellow jacket. “I have rights. You can’t force a free man from his lawful property.” He stormed back into the house.

  I started to go after him, but stopped when I heard a voice.

  “Wait.” A young man ran around the side of the house chasing the departing cars. “Please, stop.”

  The final car’s red brake lights came on. The young man ran to catch up. Although he wore a handkerchief over his face, I recognized his ponytail and glasses.

  Cathy opened the driver’s-side door.

  “Can you take these for me?” He passed her two laptops. “Just leave them at the lab and I’ll pick them up later.”

  “Of course, but I don’t feel right leaving you here. Promise you won’t wait for Dr. Polignac.”

  “I promise.” He gestured to the Hotshots working nearby. “I honestly never thought he’d hold out this long. It’s crazy.”

  Cathy glanced ahead. The other two cars were already gone. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  They said good-bye and she drove away.

  The young man was walking back when I intercepted him. “Are you Farris?”

  He stopped. “Yes?”

  “Are you also an intern here?”

  “No. I’m a doctoral candidate at UCLA.” He looked offended. “I have a paid fellowship with Dr. Polignac.”

  “Is Green Seed sponsoring your research?”

  He gestured to the house. “Only in that they’re letting us use this property. We get logistical support from the University of California and are funded by private donors.” He looked at my yellow jacket. “Are you with the Forest Service or the local fire department?”

  “Neither.” I didn’t pause to elaborate. “Did you go to Fitzgerald’s in Tilly Heights yesterday evening and ask about Jessica Egan?”

  He continued to look confused for a few moments longer, but then nodded. “Is that why you’re here? I still can’t believe she’s dead. It’s so sudden.” He glanced toward the house. “Do you mind if we talk while I pack. I still have a lot to do before I can leave.”

  I looked for Bell in the distance, but didn’t see her.

  Farris didn’t wait for my answer. He jumped up the steps to the porch and entered the house. I followed. By the time I’d shut the door behind us, he was halfway up the stairs to the second floor.

  I glanced into the dining room as I followed. A dirty plate and utensils from a hastily abandoned breakfast sat at the head of a long table. Next to it was a rifle.

  I continued up the stairs. “Why is there a gun on the dining room table?”

  “That’s just Dr. Polignac being melodramatic.” Farris went down a hallway and into a room on the right. “He wants to prove he can defend the house if the authorities try to force us to leave. Don’t worry. It’s not loaded.”

  I followed him into the bedroom. The room had nice pine floors, but the generic furniture looked as if it had come from a dorm. Farris had lowered the handkerchief and was in the middle of redoing his ponytail.

  “Are you the only grad student here?”

  “The other two evacuated yesterday, and you just saw the interns make their escape.” He finished the ponytail and crossed to a wood dresser. He opened the top drawer and carried an armload of clothing to a large, open suitcase on the bed.

  “Who here has access to the boat down at the lake?”

  He paused on his way back to the dresser, glanced at me, then continued. “I guess we all do. The key is in a drawer downstairs. Why on earth do you want to know that?”

  “Did anyone use it a couple hours ago? Maybe between one thirty and two thirty in the morning?”

  “We were all asleep.”

  “Could someone have snuck out?”

  “I suppose so. But why on earth would they?” He looked genuinely baffled, but I kept thinking about the predatory glance he’d given Cathy in the viral video. There was clearly more to him than the nice-guy image he projected.

  “When did you last talk to Jessica?” I said.

  He returned to the dresser and emptied another drawer. “I called her Wednesday morning because Dr. Polignac was refusing to evacuate.”

  “Why didn’t you call his wife in L.A.?”

  “I did, but Ceasonne said telling him to leave would only make him dig in further. She wanted us to pretend like we didn’t care.” The suitcase was full, so he zipped it up. “She refused to drive up so I called Jessica instead.”

  I remembered the way Polignac had his hand on Jessica’s back in the photo. “Were they particularly close?”

  “Dr. Polignac’s heavily involved with Green Seed and Jessica worked there.” Farris added a laptop bag to the pile of things by the door.

  I noticed a sketchpad sitting on the desk. The light coming from a desk lamp highlighted it. The pad was open to a pencil drawing of the famed Terrill salamander. For the first time I didn’t think it looked creepy.

  “Did you do this?”

  “Uh-huh.” He continued to pack. “I got my undergraduate degree in biology with a minor in scientific illustration. I try to keep it up.”

  I leaned in. The salamander’s eyes appeared thoughtful and wise. Its body, which I usually thought of as slithery, looked regal as it rested on four short legs. “Wow, you’re really good.”

  Suddenly he was standing behind me. “I do my best. It’s important not to let your own ego get in the way. You have to bring out the soul of the animal. It’s really important to try and connect on a spiritual level with nature.”

  He reached around me so he could gesture to the sketchpad. His body came into contact with mine—separated by lots of clothing, but nonetheless, ick. “I can see you must have a deep connection yourself.”

  “Are you hitting on me?” It seemed impossible given how rough I must have looked after my dive in the lake, but that had definitely been the vibe.

  He jumped back. His face flushed as he straightened his glasses. “No. Why would you say that?”

  “Because it seemed like you were hitting on me.” I set the sketchpad back down. “Did you ever sleep with Jessica Egan?”

  “What?” His mouth gaped. “I mean, no. Of course not.”

  “What about Dr. Polignac? Did they have a relationship?”

  “Why would you even ask that?”

  “It’s a simple question. If you have to think about it, then the answer is probably yes.”

  “The answer is no.” He opened the closet. “Dr. Polignac is a shameless flirt, but he loves Ceasonne.”

  “Then why has Jessica visited Bonny Hazel so much this past year?”

  He shook his head. “She didn’t. I’ve had the fellowship for ten months and Jessica only visited once.” He added a guitar case to the pile. “And she was abrasive and unpleasant on that visit. She threatened to kick us out if we damaged the house or trespassed outside of this small area designated for research. . . . Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Because Jessica was seen shopping with members of your group.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  “Could she have been visiting and you didn’t know? Maybe she was spending time with a member of your group and keeping it secret.”

  “Dr. Polignac and I are the only two men here.” He hesitated. “Although he sleeps out in his motor home, so I suppose I don’t know what he’s doing at night.” Farris disappeared into the closet. “The only thing I really know absolutely is that I wasn’t sleeping with Jessica.” I couldn’t see him, but his voice sounded snide. “Jessica wasn’t my type.”

  “Why not?”

  He emerged with an armload of camping equipment. “I volunteered at the Green Seed offices in Venice. I thought it might give me an edge for gettin
g the fellowship.”

  He slung a collapsed tent over his shoulder by a carrying strap. “I saw Jessica a couple times a week around the building. She was obsessed with her job. No time for fun.” He grinned. “Not my type.” He picked up the suitcase and sleeping bag, then exited.

  I grabbed the guitar case and followed. “Are Cathy and the other interns more your type?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He paused on the steps and looked back.

  “They’re all young, pretty, blond, and stupid. Whoever is selecting the interns isn’t being very subtle about their preferences.”

  “It’s Dr. Polignac, but regardless of how it looked in that TV clip, Cathy’s not stupid. She scored a perfect 2400 on her SATs and she’s at UCLA on a full scholarship.” He turned and continued down the steps.

  I followed him outside and raised the handkerchief back over my face. It was still mostly dark, but the coming sunrise had begun to lighten the sky.

  Farris was opening the trunk of his own Prius when Bell approached.

  “Lilly, the superintendent is cleared to go on camera, if you would like to interview him.” She recognized Farris. “Good to see you again. I’m glad you’ve changed your mind and decided to evacuate.” She continued past. “I’m going to talk with your professor and see if I can convince him to evacuate as well.”

  After she’d gone around the side of the building, Farris looked at me. “Wait a minute. She was the one escorting the photographer yesterday.”

  I set down the guitar case. “There’s been a misunderstanding.” I lifted my official press pass from where it hung around my neck. I angled it so light from the house would hit it. “I’m a photographer from KJAY in Bakersfield.”

  He stepped back. “So that’s why you asked about Jessica’s sex life. You’re doing some sort of sleazy tabloid story.”

  “Not at all. If I were doing a sleazy piece I’d have sandbagged you on camera.” I laughed. “Surprising someone while they’re on camera is the only way to be sleazy. Warning them in advance ruins it.”

  “Well, whatever you have planned, leave us out of it.” He started back into the house.