Tin City Tinder (A Boone Childress Mystery) Read online

  “Thanks,” Cedar said after I put her on the car hood and softly kissed her goodnight. She still smelled like oranges, while I stank like old boots and hay.

  “Thanks for what?”

  “For not pushing me.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just the two of us under a blanket? Nobody watching? Making out during the slow scenes like something from a romantic comedy? It would’ve been really easy for you to ask for more.”

  “If we’re being honest.” I held her hands in mine to warm them. “It’s not like I didn’t want to.”

  “I know.” She kissed my cheek and slid off the hood. “That’s why it was special.”

  I opened her door.

  She slid in and started the engine. “Better get some rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow, and you don’t want to oversleep.”

  “I have a feeling,” I said, “that I’m going to rest pretty well tonight.”

  “On second thought, I’ll be here at 7AM to pick you up. Don’t make me drag you out of bed.”

  “You could never drag me out of bed.” I flashed a grin. “Or push me.”

  She put the car in gear. “Step back, before I run over your foot.”

  As she pulled out, I did as ordered. When the lights were out of sight, I turned toward the house, where Mom was standing on the porch.

  I snapped off a salute.

  She watched me for a moment, then went inside.

  FRIDAY

  1

  The next morning in bio lab, Luigi was squinting at the workstation computer screen.

  “What happened to your specs?” I asked him while stretching to work out the intense soreness in his ribs.

  “Specs?”

  “Eyeglasses.”

  “They are broken.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Ronald Reagan broke them with a plastic bat.”

  Ronald Reagan, aka, Dewayne Loach, was sitting in his usual spot on the opposite side of the classroom.

  “You have a backup pair, right?” I asked. “Your mother would never let you travel six thousand miles with only one pair of glasses.”

  “Hai, hai.” He leaned into the screen and sucked in air. I wasn’t the only one with sore ribs. “I have an up back.”

  “Back up. Where are they?”

  “I prefer not to wear them.”

  “Why?”

  “I believe the term for them is Coke bottles. How will I win Gretchen Nunzi’s heart if I look like a gobber?”

  “You mean goober.”

  “That, too.”

  “Move over then,” I pushed Luigi out of the chair and took the seat himself. “I’m taking the comm, captain. I’m not such a great writer, but I’m faster than a half-blind Japanese guy typing in his second language.”

  “Third language.”

  “What’s your second language?”

  “Australian.”

  “Very funny.”

  Luigi laughed. “Got you. Spanish is my second language. It is very unusual in Japan. English. Mandarin, and Russian, these are common languages in our schools.”

  “Why take Spanish, then?”

  “Because it is so uncommon. A Japanese man who can speak English and Spanish can do well in the Western Hemisphere, no?”

  “Hang on to that thought while I clean up these data tables. Did Cedar do this? She calculated to wrong decimal point.”

  “I will tell her.”

  “Stow that,” I said. “Never tell Cedar her math is wrong.”

  Luigi didn’t answer. He had drifted away to talk to Dr. K. He said something about needing some advice for his research project, and she whisked him over to confer with Gretchen.

  “Hi,” came two voices in tandem behind him.

  I saw the girls’ faces reflected in the computer monitor.“I’ll be finished with the machine in about ten minutes,” I said.

  “No, silly, we wanted to talk to you. You’re the guy that like found the dead woman, right? That was totally cool.”

  I spun around. They both had blue eyes and wore thick mascara.

  “I’m Britney.”

  “I’m Heather.”

  “I’m Boone.”

  “We know.” Heather giggled. “The whole town’s talking about how you found that dead woman. Are you like a fireman or something?”

  “I’m a firefighter.”

  “Cool.” Britney twirled a sprig of blonde hair around her finger. “Everybody says the body was like a really big roasted marshmallow.”

  I was starting to see Mom’s point about treating the dead with dignity. “No, it wasn’t like that all. Human remains don’t just melt like a marshmallow.”

  “Cool,” Heather said. “Anybody tell you that you’re totally hot?

  “Only when I’m putting out fires.”

  “Huh?” Britney said.

  “But you make fireman stuff totally like interesting and stuff.” Heather pulled up a chair and wiggled close to me. “What else can you teach us?”

  “Were you really in the hospital?” Britney said. “Some kids said you almost died from breathing smoke.”

  “Smoke kill a trained firefighter?” I said. “Not likely.”

  “Maybe smoke can’t.” Cedar’s arms were crossed. She was giving the girls a look hot enough to fry bacon. “But I can think of a few other things that could.”

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey yourself,” Cedar said. “Heather, Britney, don’t y’all have somebody else to do?”

  “You mean something else to do,” Heather said.

  “I said it right the first time.”

  “Huh?” Britney said.

  “Come on, Brit.” Heather grabbed her friend. “Looks like this cat’s got her claws out.”

  I watched them go for a second, then turned back to Cedar. “Hey. Didn’t know you were here. Lucky for me you came along.”

  “Lucky?” She folded her arms. Her mouth was a straight, flat line of fury. “Is that the word for it?”

  “You don’t think I’d go for that?” I pointed at the two other girls. “I’m not interested in their kind of lucky.”

  Cedar was about to say something else when Dr. K called her over.

  “Can you give me a hand, please?” the professor said.

  “Don’t think this gets you off the hook, mister. Coming, Dr. K!”

  "Off the hook for what?" I turned back to Luigi’s document. Another face appeared in the monitor.

  “Yeah, you’re lucky,” Dewayne Loach said. “Lucky my brother pulled your ass out of a burning building. But did you thank him? No, all you do is act like you’re the big hero and treat him like a piece of crap.”

  “He didn’t rescue me,” I said. “He was too big of a coward to help with the rescue.”

  “What rescue? She’s dead, ain’t she? You call that a rescue?”

  “Know what I call it?” I rose from the computer chair. “I call it murder.”

  Murder.

  The word murmured through the lab.

  The sound caught Dr. K’s attention. She lifted her head from the catalog she was showing Cedar. “Back to work, people. Those lab reports aren’t going to write themselves.”

  Dewayne wasn’t listening. He bumped his chest into my ribs and grinned when I winced. “Careful what you say. Might come back to bite you in the ass.”

  “The thought of your teeth near my ass is very scary.”

  “I’m promising you, Childress. You want to risk your life for some old Mexican, go ahead on. But don’t be stupid enough to get on my brother’s bad side.”

  The bell rang to end class. Dewayne was one of the first out the door. He gave me the finger as a parting gift.

  “What was that all about?” Cedar said.

  “Unfinished business.” The pager clipped to my belt went off. “Hang on a sec.”

  A message from dispatch: A fire on the other side of the county near Black Oak Shelter, a United States government-owned stretch of swampland and scrub pin
es that had been used for munitions testing during the second World War, Korea, and Vietnam. If I weren’t on suspension, I would be running out the door. Now, I had to face the music, and the DJ was pissed.

  “Don’t blow me off, Boone,” Cedar said. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “Dewayne’s full of shit,” I said. “You know he’s just running his mouth.”

  “That’s not the that I meant.” She pointed at Brit and Heather walking down the hallway. “That’s the that I meant!”

  “Oh,” I said. “That.”

  “Yes, them!”

  “Is it them or that?”

  She stepped toward me, seething. “Them! The hootchies!”

  “That them means nothing to me.”

  She punched my chest. “Then why were you flirting with them, jerk face?”

  “They were flirting with me.”

  “Same thing!”

  “Not really.”

  “Listen, Boone Childress.” She shook a finger under my nose. “When you’re dating me, you’re dating just me, not flirting with a couple of hootchies. Got that?”

  “Who says we’re dating?”

  “You did,” Cedar said, “when you kissed me on the lake.”

  “Technically, I kissed you on the lips.”

  “Don’t try to charm me with semantics, mister. And no flashing those cute dimples. I’m immune to it.”

  “That’s good. I’d hate to think that I’d coerced you into not being mad at me, since I believe that males and females should be equal in any relationship, and in the future, I’ll make sure to ask your permission before—“

  “Just shut up.” She threw her arms around my neck. “And kiss me again.”

  I lifted her until she stood on tiptoes, then leaned in, my lips lightly brushing hers.

  The kiss was as short as it was sweet. When I opened my eyes, Cedar was staring up at me.

  “I’m still mad at you,” she said.

  “Let me make it up to you.”

  “What have you got in mind?”

  “Cedar-san!” Luigi said. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Damn,” she whispered. “I forgot.”

  “Forgot what?” I asked.

  “Cedar has a lunch date with me,” Luigi said. “We are ordering food.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at Cedar, as if to say WTF?

  “It’s not a date,” she said. “Just helping him with conversational English.”

  “You come along, too.” Luigi shook my shoulder. “We will make it a threesome.”

  “A what?” Cedar cried.

  “That one definitely gained something in translation.” I steered Luigi out of harm’s way. “How about lunch at Red Fox Java? My treat. I—“

  I felt myself space out. Cedar was saying something, but my mind was replaying what Dewayne said in lab.

  Risk your life for some old Mexican. The identity of the Nagswood fire victim hadn’t been released. “How did he know her race?” I wondered.

  “What?” Cedar said. “Who is he?”

  “Dewayne Loach. In class he asked me why I would risk my life for some old Mexican. How did he know the victim was Mexican?”

  Cedar gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh my god. That means—“

  “His brother knew she was in the house.” I took out my cell. “Meet you guys at the coffee house. I’ve got a few calls to make.”

  2

  “They didn’t believe you?” Cedar spooned Italian dressing onto her hoagie. “None of them?”

  The afternoon sun shone down on Red Fox Java’s outdoor patio. The small coffee house was in a red brick building across from the Allegheny County Courthouse. Weekdays, the patio was a favorite gathering place for courthouse employees. Weekends, it was the mecca for band geeks and goth kids drinking the only double espressos to be had in town.

  I sat with Luigi and Cedar. We were joined by Cedar’s beagle, Chigger, who lay under the table with his head resting on Cedar’s sneakers.

  “Not a single, solitary word.” I summarizing my phone conversations. “Hoyt said his office was too busy to talk, much less go chasing shadows. Lamar said I have Eugene Loach on the brain.”

  “What about your grandfather?” Luigi pushed his backup glasses up on his nose. They were thick plastic and rectangular. No wonder he didn’t wear them. “Did he doubt your story?”

  “Couldn’t get in touch with him, either. His cell goes straight to voicemail. He’s out of touch. I don’t know if it’s intentional or not. He may be working behind the scenes, or he may be in a hammock on his sleeping porch.”

  “Let’s assume he’s working behind the scenes.” Cedar rewarded Chigger with a bite of ham. “What would he be working on?”

  “The case.”

  “Well, yes, the case,” she said. “What do you know, exactly?”

  “I know this,” I said. “We have three suspicious fires. The first was in Duck. Then the Tin City fire, where Stumpy found a finger. The third was Nagswood, where the woman was killed. All three were abandoned farm houses.”

  “Do you think the events are related in some way?” Luigi said.

  “I think there’s a serial arsonist on the loose,” I said. “And I want to catch him.”

  “So what’s next?” Cedar said through a bite of her sub.

  Good question. What was next? With the cops stonewalling me, all I could do was cool my jets until something broke. “I don’t know. Wait? The gears are turning without me, and if I interfere, I’ll never make it back on the Allegheny VFD. Which leaves me to do what? Help with your research project?”

  “Music to my ears.” Cedar launched into a long, involved explanation of her project. Something to do with her beagle, circuit boards, terrorists, luggage, and a device that worked like a microphone for the nose.

  The details were lost on me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t understand the concept of Cedar’s project, but my attention was drawn to the courthouse green. A crew of county workers was raising a cherry picker up to a streetlight. They were hanging flags for YamFest, the festival that Allegheny County held every year to celebrate itself.

  “YamFest,” I said. “Isn’t that the same weekend as the Olympiad?”

  “You mean the Olympiad you’re supposed to be helping me with?” Cedar said.

  “Boone-san has problems with his ear holes.” Luigi dropped fries into his mouth. Two of them missed and fell to the ground.

  Chigger wolfed them down before Cedar could stop him.

  “Bad boy!" she said. "French-fries give you gas.”

  “Me?” I said. “I tolerate potatoes just fine.”

  “I meant the dog.” Cedar patted her leg, and Chigger returned to his spot. “But yes, as a matter of a fact, you are a bad boy.”

  I looked at Luigi with my arms raised, as if to say, Who? Me?

  “Don’t try to play it off, Boone. You’re a really smart guy, but you’ve got the attention span of a gnat. Focus!”

  She smacked my forehead. Her palm made a huge pop.

  I lolled my head and pretended to be hurt.

  Cedar blushed. She covered her mouth. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

  I grinned. “Psyche!”

  Pop!

  Cedar smacked me again.

  “Ow!” I grabbed my sprained neck. “That stung!”

  “Serves you right, jerk face.”

  I pressed my iced tea on my neck. “Is it swelling? I think it’s swelling.”

  “No, it's not.” Cedar pulled the glass away. “It’s fine. Stop being such a wuss.”

  Under the table Chigger let out a short growl. I watched him stand, his tail stuck straight out. He jumped over our feet, then bounded out to the sidewalk. He sniffed the air, turned, and sniffed again. His back arched, and he pointed toward at the courthouse green.

  “What’s he doing?” I asked.

  “Just remembering his old life.” Cedar scooted her chair back. “Customs trained him to signal when he sme
lled certain chemicals. It used to happen all of the time. I’ll get him.”

  “Wait.” I reached out to stop her, but she’d already scooped the dog.

  “Fish sticks,” she said.

  The dog relaxed.

  Chigger looked surprised to see her. He applied a sloppy tongue to the corner of her mouth, where she had missed some Italian dressing with her napkin.

  “Silly doggy,” she said and set him in her lap.

  “You stopped him. I wanted to see what he did next.”

  “That’s all he does. He’s not an attack dog, you know. That’s why US Customs uses beagles in airports, so they don’t scare the people….” Her voice trailed away. Her gaze focused behind me. “Uh oh.”

  I turned and was greeted by Deputy Mercer.

  His ticket book was open. “Whose dog is that?”

  She rubbed Chigger behind the ears. “Mine, officer.”

  “ID, miss.”

  “What’s this about?” Cedar wasn’t cowed by a cocky little man in a khaki uniform. “Have I broken a law?”

  “I’ll ask the questions,” Mercer said. “Show me some ID.”

  Cedar fished her license out. “Here you go.”

  “There’s a law against bringing pets inside a restaurant, missy.”

  “We’re outside,” I said.

  Mercer jabbed his pen behind his ear. “Food’s being consumed.”

  “Food is consumed outside all of the time.” I leaned toward Mercer. “Take the YamFest. There will be vendors all around town square, and they have a Frisbee contest for dogs right there on the green. Are you going to ticket all of those owners, too?”

  Mercer bent down so that he was eye level with me. “Watch your mouth, sailor boy. You’re already walking on thin ice.”

  I stared right back at him.

  When Mercer didn’t get a rise, he pushed himself back up. He mimed, I got my eye on you. He slapped a ticket on the table, then stalked off toward the courthouse.

  “What an asshole.” Cedar picked Chigger up and rubbed his belly. “He gave my puppy a ticket!”

  I read the name on the paper. “Technically, he gave it to you.”

  Cedar stabbed the ticket with her fork. She ripped it from the tines, folded it into a square, and stuck it into the small pocket with her license. “I’m not paying this. It’s so unfair. Deputy Doofus thinks I won’t show up for court, but I’m definitely going to show.”