Clarets of Fire

by Christine E. Blum

  We all applauded.

  “I couldn’t have done it without these wonderful folks,” Andrew said, and beamed as Enrico and Isabella Bruno approached. This was my first chance to get a good look at Malcolm’s second cousin, and though not so uncommon, Malcolm looked nothing like him. Andrew had shoulder-length, dark, wavy hair, about a three-days’ growth on his face, and I got the hint of a six-pack under his tight T-shirt.

  Me likey. What am I saying? I’m betrothed!

  “It sure smells like you’ve outdone yourselves again.” I turned to Enrico and Isabella. “And now you’ll be serving wine? Good luck getting me to go home.” I smiled.

  “Not just wine, but some of the winery’s precious, young clarets,” the precious, young Andrew corrected me.

  “You guys aren’t leaving, are you?” Peggy asked the Brunos.

  “Have a glass of wine at least,” Sally implored.

  “I’m afraid that we have to get back to the restaurant; this is a very busy time for us,” Enrico replied with a slight bow.

  Isabella followed suit, “Football season has started.” She gave a knowing head nod to us.

  Who says football is just a spectator sport? It takes work and finesse to eat pizza without burning the roof of your mouth.

  “Bye, Isabella. I’ll pop over in a bit to keep you company while you prepare for the dinner rush,” I said distracted by Bardot who had started whimpering and was looking agitated.

  “Bardot, what is it, honey?”

  “Maybe she’s tired of all this and wants to go home and take a nap,” Aimee suggested.

  “Have you met my dog? She would never leave a party early.”

  Bardot responded by shoving her nose into the palm of my hand persistently.

  “She really wants to show me something.” I reattached her leash. “I’d better find out what.”

  On cue she thrust her nose in the air again.

  “Does anybody else smell smoke?” Sally asked.

  We all took in lungfuls of air and hesitantly nodded. Except for Marisol who launched a police scanner app on her phone and listened to the dispatch calls.

  Eight-fifty-two, what’s your location?

  We’ve just arrived on the scene; fire appears to have fully engulfed the roofs of all the businesses in the strip mall. Need backup to help divert traffic from Centinela and Palms.

  “That’s where Rico’s Pizza is!” Peggy shouted loudly to be heard over the sounds of approaching sirens.

  Chapter Two

  I do my best to keep up with Bardot, who, thanks to Jack’s CARA training, was in full rescue mode running low to the ground and sweeping her nose left and right. We’d sped past the rest of the Wine Club, leaving them in our wake doing a full-on run up the hill of Rose Avenue. The smoke smell was getting intense. What I saw when we reached the top stopped me dead in my tracks.

  The street was a sea of red as fire trucks arrived and deployed first responders from every direction. Brown and orange billows of thick smoke were quickly erasing the blue sky in exchange for an eerie glow. A crowd had started to gather in front of the gas station across the street from the strip mall.

  Is that really a smart place to be spectating? Do they not remember the gas station scene in Hitchcock’s The Birds?

  Bardot had been equally stunned by the scene but was now back to her mission of pulling me closer to the scene and then around to the back of the fiery stores. When she settled on Rico’s Pizza, she launched into a ten-bark sequence, a CARA signal that she had found the target. My heart dropped to my feet as I wondered if Isabella was inside. But I heard my name called and spotted her and Rico watching with horror from the sidewalk. At that moment Bardot lunged toward the back door of the parlor and her leash slipped out of my hand. She disappeared through a wall of smoke.

  “Bardot, NO!”

  I had no choice but to go in after her. The firemen were all fighting the blaze from what looked like the origin point on the roof. I slid into the place on my belly, trying to stay as low as possible to the floor.

  “Bardot? Come!”

  Nothing. I heard an ax being driven into the ceiling above me as they worked on making an opening for ventilation. Once they cut through and let in the air, all hell is going to break loose as I recall from binge-watching Chicago Fire.

  “BARDOT!”

  I picked up the faint sound of shuffling over the noise from above and could swear that I heard a growl. I took off my T-shirt and wrapped it loosely around my nose and mouth before shimmying farther into the room. When a piece of the ceiling fell down on me and a ray of light was let in, I could make out something yellow coming toward me.

  More light flooded in and I realized that I was looking at the business end of Bardot and that she was backing out while dragging something with her.

  We had precious few seconds. I lunged up to her head and felt more than saw that she had the collar of a person’s shirt in her jaws. I found the person’s shoulders and then underarms and secured my hold.

  “One, two, three!”

  Bardot and I put our entire body weights into pulling the person to the door. We were close, and with one more countdown we were able to back into the parking lot. Sally had arrived and she brought reinforcements.

  Paramedics and firefighters rushed to carry us a safe distance away just before the oxygen from the vent in the roof gave the fire new life and flames licked out and up the exterior of the building. If we’d been a few seconds slower, we would have been toast. Literally.

  “Bardot?” I asked in a panic before I was muzzled by an oxygen mask.

  “She’s getting help too, honey, but she looks like she’ll be fine,” Sally assured me.

  For the first time I had a chance to look around and take in the scene. People in the work clothes of their various trades at the stricken mall looked on despondent and helpless as they watched their businesses turn to soot and ash. News vans were parked haphazardly along the side street and were dislodging reporters and photographers. The fire on the top of the mall was burning with intensity, releasing ebony smoke into the sky. But the venting had sent all the oxygen-seeking flames to the roof, and responders could now go into the stores and douse embers. I caught sight of Bardot and saw that she had a child’s breathing mask attached to her snout and was breathing and wagging her tail in three-four time. When I looked at her yummy paramedic, I completely understood her happy mood. It was then that I noticed that I was topless except for my bra, a nice pink and gray number with tea roses at the base of the straps. But still, even in this chaotic scene I stood out—attracting way too much attention.

  “Halsey? What the hell happened and why do I always find you in the middle of a crime scene?”

  Augie. Of course.

  At that moment the crowd that had been gathered around the body we’d pulled out of the parlor began to separate. Isabella and Enrico were among them. She was crying as he led her away. We exchanged a brief look of concern for each other and I nodded that I was okay. In the clearing I could just make out that the rescue victim was a guy, maybe twenty. When the ambulance driver pulled a sheet over him, I closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing. The mask was no longer necessary. What I needed now was my cozy bed and time to grieve.

  Bardot was delivered to me contained by a makeshift rope leash. We were both going to need a long shower, but she seemed content that she’d done her job today. I wished I could say that I’d done the same.

  “I’ve got a lot of questions for you, Halsey—is she cleared to talk now?” Augie asked my wonderful EMT, and he nodded and gave me a secret wink.

  “Ask away, Augie. If your plan is to deal me a good dressing down, then I’ve given you a head start.” I smiled sweetly at the EMT and the approaching firefighters.

  “Here’s a jacket for you, Miss . . . ?”

  “Halsey. You can just call me that.” I smiled up at the man in the helmet and red suspenders.

  “We will need a full name for the report, Hal
sey. I’m Fire Chief Adam Pasquale.” His premature gray hair and chiseled, kind face was sending me to my happy place. Until I remembered why I was here.

  “Chief, I saw them cover the man that we pulled out of the building. Is he really gone?” My voice cracked at the finality of it.

  “I’m afraid so, but you did everything that you could. And I’ll save the lecture, but what you two did”—he looked at Bardot who gave him her Hallmark Christmas card pose—“was a terrible risk and one that you will never do again, correct?”

  “Halsey!” Peggy screamed, running to me with Aimee and Marisol in tow.

  “She’s okay, they both are,” Sally assured everyone.

  “How’d you get here so fast, Sally? I know Halsey took the Bardot express, but what’s your secret?”

  “Peggy, you know that I speed-walk every morning, and in a day I average about ten thousand steps.”

  “I’m impressed,” the chief complimented her, and then turned his attention to Augie. “And you, sir, are you part of this fascinating group?”

  “Only when they break the law.” He showed the chief his badge.

  “Oh, Augie, you know you love us.” That was the cue that Bardot needed to jump on him with her wet paws and beg for some loving. For some reason Bardot is a fan of Augie. I keep trying to explain to her the importance of making the right choices.

  “Get off me,” he yelled at her, but it was too late. His white shirt was already emblazoned with two perfect, sooty pawprints.

  “Bardot, come stand with me, honey. You can lick my hands; they smell of pizza,” Aimee coaxed her.

  “Augie, you know how this fire started?” Mayor Marisol was on the case.

  I watched Augie’s face flush a crimson red from his neck to his forehead in the span of three seconds. The firefighters took in the diminutive Rose Avenue menace and, I’m guessing, tried to figure out what kind of hold she had on Augie.

  “Marisol—”

  She gave Augie a death stare.

  “Er, Auntie, I am only here to offer assistance to the firefighters. This is their scene and we should let them get back to work.”

  Marisol gave him the kind of blank stare that the kids in a Peanuts cartoon give their scolding teachers.

  “Chief, the captain from ACTS has arrived with his team, and they are standing by for a briefing.”

  Another cute firefighter. I’ve got to find the fountain from whence these guys spring.

  “I’ll be right there, thanks. Halsey, I’m going to send someone over to take your statement and get all your information.” The chief gave my shoulder a squeeze.

  “Someone with ACTS?” Augie asked, still looking like a paw-printed fish out of water.

  The chief nodded and gave us a salute and a smile.

  Where do I go to volunteer?

  “Augie, they’re sending someone over with an ax?” Marisol was trying to wipe his shirt with her sweater, and even I was beginning to feel sorry for him.

  “ACTS, Auntie. It’s an acronym for Arson/CounterTerrorism Section.”

  “Arson. Interesting.” Peggy’s mind was off to the races.

  “There’s a terrorist on the loose? Go catch him, Augie!” Marisol pointed in a random direction.

  “I’m on it, Auntie, and Halsey, I’ll talk to you later.” His voice trailed away as he worked to put as much distance as possible between himself and Marisol.

  * * *

  We’d moved to a makeshift command center in the parking lot with chairs and a table set up under a pop-up canopy. Bardot and I had been given water, and Sally had stayed with me for moral support. Heaven knows where Marisol was, probably dressing for combat. Enrico and Isabella were huddled in another corner of the shelter and were speaking with an investigator. I wanted to go over and hug Isabella tightly; she and Enrico had just lost their entire livelihood. One they worked so hard to establish. How do they pick up the pieces and rebuild?

  “Hi, I’m Inspector Mason, and you are Halsey?” he assumed by the soot and loaner jacket that I was wearing.

  “Yes, hi. This is my friend Sally, and the one with the fur pants is Bardot.”

  He didn’t crack a smile. Not a good sign.

  “Maybe Sally could take your dog home; they really don’t need to be here.”

  I looked at Sally while his words hung in the air. Finally, I nodded.

  “I’ll be close by.” Sally waved her cell phone at me.

  “While you fill out some basic information on this form, I’m just going to take a couple photos of you for our records.”

  I looked at him in horror. I could only imagine what this frightening ordeal had done to my usually pleasant comportment.

  He went to town with a camera app, and I could tell that this man knew nothing of proper photographic composition and lighting. As I went through the fields on the form—name, address, driver’s license number, and so forth—I caught sight of the shadow of a person pacing on the other side of the canopy flap. Occasionally it would get real close, and the side turn of the head suggested that someone was trying to eavesdrop. I had a pretty good guess of who that “someone” could be.

  I finished the last line and handed the sheet back to Inspector Mason. I was tired, hot, more than a little achy, and feeling a growing crank surface.

  “Either go away or come inside; you keep standing out there you’ll collapse from heat stroke. The paramedics have enough on their hands.”

  The inspector gave me a wide-eyed, stern look like I’d just become the host body for the devil. He turned to follow my stare, and slowly the flap parted and Augie entered the covered area.

  “Who are you?” The inspector demanded.

  Augie gave him his credentials.

  “Halsey lives in my jurisdiction and we’ve had a few, let’s say, encounters in the past.”

  “She has a record?” Mason asked.

  “Augie, how dare you! Of course I don’t have a record. This neighborhood detective seems to have trouble detecting crimes, and so he takes the easy route and blames me first. Ultimately, I have to point him in the right direction.”

  I knew that I was being a bit harsh in front of another serve and protector, but I’d had enough of today, and Augie’s implication was just going to make the interrogation, as it now appeared to be, last longer.

  “I won’t interfere, Inspector, I’ll just listen in. Either way I have to take her statement, so why not do this once for both departments?”

  Mason appeared to think about that for a minute. The canopy was now filled with ash particles in the air that emitted an acrid, caustic sweet smell. No one was happy to be here, and I was thankful that Sally and Bardot were not breathing this into their lungs. I coughed and felt a burning in my throat.

  “The faster you clear up my questions, Ms. Hall, the faster this will be over.” Mason had decided to ignore Augie, I guess.

  He had me run through the sequence of events from the start of the block party until the present. He asked few questions but listened intently. He seemed to be focused on the timeline of my account. Ultimately, he drew it out on a piece of paper and had me estimate as close as possible the minutes at which each event occurred. My head was pounding and my crank had boiled into a full-on combustible temper. I noticed Isabella and Rico stand, and I waved them over.

  “Are you guys okay?”

  “As well as can be expected.” Enrico looked shaky. “We are worried about you. What you did to try and save Roberto, it was, well, the kindness and bravery we have come to admire in you, Halsey.”

  “Roberto? That sweet guy who worked for you?” I asked, paying no attention to steam rising from Mason’s head.

  “He was our delivery driver,” Isabella explained. “But we had no idea that he was in the building . . . his shift didn’t start until five. So, so sad.”

  She resumed her weeping into Enrico’s shoulder. She was about a foot taller than he was.

  “They questioned you for quite a while, what was that all about
? They can’t possibly think that you had anything to do with this. You were with us delivering pizza to our party and visiting with friends.” I joined Isabella for a group hug.

  “That’s what we explained, when we got back here everything was already in flames!”

  “Enrico, calm down or you’ll give yourself a heart attack.” Isabella fixed his thick, dark hair from his eyes and fanned his face with her hand.

  “Is that what this little drawing is about, Inspector? Are you trying to get me to say that they’d left the party before the fire broke out? Well my dog’s nose says differently!”

  “Hah!” Augie suddenly came to life.

  “Enough. You two need to leave and let me finish my interview. I’m sure we’ll contact you for a follow-up,” Mason said to the Brunos, and waited until they’d left the tent.

  “Now, let’s resume,” he said to me, turning his attention to the timeline again.

  “No! I am done. You people have had me here for two hours in the heat and toxic air. And this is after I rescued a victim from a burning building, something that is your job. My throat is burning, and I can feel my lungs tightening. I could be facing a chronic breathing condition, and that will be on you, Inspector Mason.”

  I got up from the table.

  As I pulled open the canopy flap, I heard Augie say, “We’re going to need to question your dog’s nose.”

  “You think this is funny, Augie? Someone died today.”

  “No, it’s not funny.” He looked contrite. I guess my reprimand had knocked some sense into him.

  I turned back to leave and ran right into Marisol. Now I understand Augie’s change in demeanor.

  “Bardie’s nose knows,” she pronounced.

  “What have I told you about calling Bardot by her full name?” I asked Marisol as we headed back to Rose Avenue.

  “I dunno.”

  Chapter Three

  As we reached our side-by-side houses, I saw Sally and Bardot perched on my front stoop talking to Jack.

  “Halsey! Are you okay, babe?” he asked, scooping me up in his arms.