Heaven's Fire (23 page)

"Neal is like a snake that's been caught under Martha's stiletto heel--or hoof, if you want to extend the ass metaphor--for years. He's figured out, at long last, how to turn and strike back."

Jake stopped at her doorway and raised one eyebrow. "So Neal's a snake and Martha's an ass?"

Bryan shrugged. "Strange bedfellows, no?"

He winked at her and hurried after Neal. Jake continued into her office. There was something lizard-like about Bryan winking. Like the eyelid stretched, but couldn’t quite close. Yuck.

Jake sat down at her desk and stared at her still-blank computer screen, ignoring the question of whether lizards actually
had
eyelids for the far larger one: was Bryan insinuating that Neal and Martha were lovers? Neal, the family man? Martha the...well, never mind. But then, Jake reminded herself, Bryan thought everyone was "doing" everyone, because
he
always was. In fact, the one he'd been doing fairly recently, according to station gossip, was Martha.

The snake, the ass and the lizard. They made quite the interesting menagerie
a trois
.

Kathy looked up and sniffed when Simon came in.
"
Lordy, you smell like a smoked salmon.
"
She got up and hugged him.

"
Thanks,
"
Simon said, flopping down in the chair next to her desk.
"
And is that ‘Eau d’ Pediatrician’ I smell emanating from you?
"

"
I think you had best mind your own business, Tex,
"
she said, eyebrows raised.
"
Which reminds me, where did
you
spend last night?
"

Simon turned red.
"
A friend’s house.
"

Simon? Blushing?
"
Must be a good friend,
"
she said, but didn’t inquire further for now. She'd nail him on it later, when he was feeling better. It would be more sporting and just as much fun.

"
Do you need somewhere to stay tonight?" she asked. "I’m sure Ned wouldn’t mind.
"
She knew Ned
would
mind, but that was just too bad.

"
No, I’m fine," Simon said, not sounding fine at all. And why should he? He'd just lost the only thing he loved. Well, almost the only thing.

"
Is Irish okay?"

Kathy had helped Simon pick out the setter puppy as a gift for What's-her-name, as she liked to call his ex. Simon had kept Irish after the divorce, since the woman couldn't be bothered with a dog anymore than she could with a husband.

"
Everybody's fine," Simon said. "The dog was outside when the fire started, fortunately for her.
"

"The luck of the Irish," Kathy offered automatically, but she was wondering who "everybody" was.

But Simon didn't explain, or even smile. He stood up.
"
You said the fire department called?
"

She handed him the message.
"
Call this guy back, and Collins wants to see you.
"

"
I figured.
"
He tapped the binders he had carried in. "Can you get the auditors to go over these?"

Kathy nodded.
"
Looking for something in particular?
"

"Anything irregular, funds diverted--you know the drill. And tell Collins I’ll be right in after I get out of these clothes.
"

Simon went into his office and closed the door behind him.

Kathy turned to her computer, typed in "depression +male" and clicked "Search."

*****

Simon took another shower and changed into his spare jeans and shirt. Stuffing his smoky sweats into a plastic grocery bag, he tied it shut and stashed it deep in the corner of the closet in his office. Even in the plastic bag, even with the door shut, he still could smell it. The smoke from the fire had seeped into his pores and permeated his nostrils, like a nauseating cologne you accidentally got on the tip of your nose. Simon knew from experience it would take hours, maybe days, for him to shake it, no matter how many showers he took.

Clean, if not exactly feeling fresh, Simon sat down to gather his thoughts before he went in to see Collins. As always, his desk was neat, probably because he spent very little time there. He was on the road nearly half the year. He kept a pad of yellow paper in the center of the desk and his in-and-out box in the upper right-hand corner. That was it.

He pulled the pad toward him. Then he sat and stared. Whether his mind was over-cluttered or absolutely empty, Simon couldn't seem to snag a coherent thought and put it down on paper.

A knock at the door interrupted his reverie, or lack thereof, and Collins stuck his head in.
"
Glad you’re okay. Got a minute?
"

"
Sure.
"
Simon stood up and followed his boss back to his office. Ed Collins was tall, broad-shouldered and good-looking, with dark hair and blue eyes. The day he had been introduced as the new RAC, Kathy had practically swooned. Since then Collins had grown progressively more rumpled. Simon suspected he regretted taking the promotion from field work to paperwork.

Unlike Simon’s desk, Collins’ desk was covered with stacks of files. He settled into his chair.
"
I was sorry to hear about your house. How much did you lose?
"

Simon shrugged.
"
Pretty much everything.
"

"Have they come up with a cause yet?"

"I have to call the department this morning. I've been doing a lot of remodeling, so there are all sorts of possibilities." Simon left it at that.

Collins pushed back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. "Speaking of possibilities, any chance someone with a grudge might have seen you on TV yesterday?"

So Collins had seen Malone's report, too. "I suppose it's possible, but why now? I haven't been undercover for years."

Collins shrugged. "Maybe it's been long enough that someone you took down is out on the streets again."

Could be, Simon thought, perking up. Having a murderous freak trying to exact revenge was so much more palatable than being a stupid fuck.

"Think about it," Collins said, "and if the locals turn up arson, we'll take over the investigation."

Simon nodded.

"
In the meantime, let me know if there’s anything I can do.
"

Collins pulled his feet off the desk and leaned forward to pick up the phone. "Anything on the Lake Days explosion?" he asked as Simon got up to leave.

Simon hesitated. The sand, the lift charge, Ray, the still-to-be analyzed financial records--all of it seemed too nebulous to explain right now. Besides, Simon had learned not to share theories with his RAC until all the facts were in. That way Collins couldn't latch onto a favorite. It was tough to run an investigation when your boss has already decided what the outcome should be.

"Nothing definitive," Simon hedged. "I'll keep you up to speed, though." The "up to speed" was Collin's favorite line, and Simon threw it in as a bone.

But Collins was already dialing. "Great. Keep me up to speed,
"
he said absently as Simon left.

Simon shook his head and went back to his office. It would take a while for the auditors to analyze the Firenze’s financial records. In the meantime, he might as well check out some other possibilities.

Pat had said that rival fireworks companies were cherry-picking their accounts. Simon wondered if the fireworks business was lucrative enough to make putting a competitor out of business worth the risk. He reached for the phone.

"
Calling the fire department?
"
Kathy was at his office door.

Simon felt a twinge of irritation at her and set down the phone.
"
I will, but I have some other things to do first.
"

"
Are you going out there? See what you can salvage?
"

The thought of pawing through what was left of his life made him sick.

Kathy read his expression and gave him a sympathetic smile.
"
I understand, Tex, but plug your nose and do it. Let me know if I can help.
"
She turned to leave.

Damn, the woman knew him better than he knew himself.
"
Kath?
"

She turned back.

"
I love you, you know.
"

She gave him a dirty grin and a Mae West voice.
"
Keep the pistol in your pocket, Tex. I’m spoken for.
"

The remark reminded him of Jake. He cracked a small smile and picked up the phone again.

*****

"
Jake!"

Only Luis’s head was visible in the doorway of Jake‘s office, the rest of his body apparently idling like an Indy car on the other side of the wall.
"
You got the master of the tape I shot on the barge? We still can't find the close-up on the dupe.
"

"
It's here somewhere," Jake said, playing for time or postponing the inevitable, depending on how you looked at it. "Congratulations on your reporting assignment. Was that a surprise?
"
She gestured for him to come in and sit down.

He came in, but didn‘t sit. He could barely stand still, in fact.
"
Not really. I had talked to Gwen and Bill about it. I mean with all the interest from the networks and stuff, I figured this was my chance to move up. You gotta strike while the fire’s hot, you know?
"

Yeah, and the early bird catches the germ. Jake hoped Luis would be scripted on the air, though she had always suspected the kid was shrewder than he let on. Witness the fact that he had been smart enough to run tape so he could keep shooting when the truck went down.

"
The networks are interested in what? The footage or you?
"
As she spoke, she pulled the master tape from the hundreds on the metal shelves next to her desk.

"
The tape first,
"
he said, grabbing it out of her hand.
"
Then CNN wanted an interview and MSNBC and, well, I guess I came off pretty good. All of a sudden, I’m a reporter.
"
He smiled delightedly, and Jake found herself smiling back. Sucker.

The cameraman-cum-reporter held up the tape.
"
Gwen’s letting me put together a package about the explosion--what it was like to be out in the middle of it.
"

Jake knew about the two-minute package from the morning meeting.
"
Not quite in the middle of it, thankfully, or you could have ended up like Pasquale or Ray Guida.
"

Luis was already backing out of the room.
"
Yeah, but the camera really did put me right there with Firenze when he got it.
"

He stopped at the door and held up the tape.
"
You know, I was kind of pissed you didn’t show that close-up footage more, but now I’m glad. I mean, I can do it as part of my package and it will have more...
"
He hesitated, searching for the word he wanted.
"
Dramatic impact. Yeah, that’s it.
"

He grinned again and was gone.

Jake wondered what the
"
dramatic impact
"
would be of Luis’s finding that the close-up of Pasquale had been replaced with ninety seconds of a two-year-old Tornado Safety Special. If he had been
"
pissed
"
when she hadn’t run the footage, just wait until he found out it no longer existed.

Jake leaned back in her chair, imagining how Richard Nixon must have felt after he erased his tapes. And knew he was about to be found out.

*****

When Simon pulled up to his house, there was a red Chevy with official plates in the drive. Evidently someone else already was pawing through the ashes of his life.

He walked down the driveway and around to the lake side, bypassing the door in the front facade of the house. And facade it was: why go through the front door when the entire back of the house was gone?

Stepping over the shattered glass of what had been the window wall into the den, he heard sounds from below. The floor boards of the study were burned right through in places, so all he had to do was look down to see the fire investigator picking through the rubble in the basement.