Twenty-two

Lionel scoped the room.His eyes settled on mine as he wrapped his arm around the bottle blonde next to him. No doubt the same blonde my father’d mentioned ogling at Lionel’s place. A gray-haired woman near the couple pointed at them. Then at me. A woman next to her clutched her chest and raced over to share the drama with a group near the stage. The Indian Falls gossip train was heading out of the station. Just what I needed to brighten my day.

The blond bimbo smiled up at Lionel and giggled. My stomach clenched. A simmering rage built in my chest. Most women I knew would have wanted to claw out the chick’s eyes in this situation. Not me. I wanted to punch Lionel square in the mouth. He had created this drama. The chick was blameless, even if her clothes were tacky. Lionel’s date had vacant eyes, big boobs, and a really short skirt. Not his type. Or was she? The way he smiled at her, I wasn’t sure.

With the hall buzzing about Lionel’s new love interest, I looked around for a safe haven. Jimmy Bakersfield gave me a thumbs-up from across the room. He was surrounded by half a dozen Senior Center women, who were all watching me with knowing smiles.

The mariachi band seemed to be missing in action, but Clayton Zimmerman had sidled up to the soda fountain and was talking to a couple of ladies. Hooking up with the new lawyer in town might help my bruised ego, but the memory of squirrel dust made me think twice.

Bingo. Walking in the door was Sean Holmes. He’d changed clothes since our adventure in the parking lot. Now he was sporting a white T-shirt, jeans, and a black leather jacket. A small bulge under the jacket made me smile. Only Sean would think it necessary to be armed at a dinner dance. I wondered if he’d lend me the gun. Lionel was giving blondie one of his lazy smiles. I decided death was too good for him, so I went with plan B.

Taking a cue from my grandfather’s act, I swung my hips into undulating action and crossed the room. I reached Sean, smiled, and pulled his head down for a kiss. It wasn’t a great kiss, but I couldn’t blame Sean for that. The guy was surprised as hell. So was Lionel. I could see his nostrils flaring when Sean and I came up for air. Score.

“Jailhouse Rock” boomed from the speakers as Pop bopped back out onto the stage. Behind him were three members of the mariachi band, equipped with tambourines, maracas, and castanets. The crowd went wild.

I yanked Sean onto the dance floor and started jiggling, hoping to entice him to play along. Sean gave me a goofy look, shrugged, and cut loose. Wow, could the guy dance. He spun, twirled, and dipped me without causing injury to either of us.

The song ended, and Pop and his backup band began playing “It’s Now or Never.” I wrapped my arms around Sean before he could bolt. Lionel and his date were still on the sidelines. Lionel looked furious. The girl looked hurt and confused. She was trying to talk to him but was receiving no response.

“So what’s the fight about?”

I looked up at Sean. “What fight?”

He laughed. “Doctor Doolittle has his arm around Betsy Moore, and you’re coming on to me. I don’t mind being used, but I like to know the pertinent facts.”

I snuggled closer for the pleasure of our viewing audience. “Lionel and I had a disagreement about my father today. Before we could talk it over, he shows up with what’s-her-name draped all over him. He did it to make me jealous. So I decided to return the favor.”

Sean cocked his head to the side and nodded. “Sounds about right.”

“Really?” I couldn’t tell if he was joking. Thank God Sean wasn’t in our poker group.

He shrugged. “You don’t sit around waiting for situations to resolve themselves. He should know that. Hell, the whole town knows it. It drives me nuts.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I’ve figured that out.” He gave me a half smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m ever going to like you poking into my cases. In fact, I’m surprised to see you here. Aren’t you supposed to be staking out nearby fields in case they explode?”

“Tomorrow,” I joked. “Tonight I’m doing the supportive family thing.”

“Maybe by tomorrow, you won’t have anything to stake out.”

I peered up at Sean’s knowing expression. “What does that mean? Did you find Sinbad’s car? Do you have a lead?”

Sean just gave me a smug smile, which I thought was pretty silly, considering my hand was inches from his gun. The song came to an end. Pop’s voice disappeared, and Sean pulled me close. He leaned down. His face closed in on mine. I could smell mint. He must have brushed his teeth before coming to the dance. His mouth stopped an inch from my lips, and he said, “I have an arrest to make. Don’t follow me, or I’ll shoot your tires.”

The next thing I knew, the man was across the room and out the door.

Sean had to have known he couldn’t drop a bomb like that and expect me to stay put. He’d just finished telling me as much. It had to be a dare. One I accepted.

A few people tried to engage me in conversation as I made my way to the exit, but I was on a mission. Sean thought he’d solved the car theft case before I could. A part of me hoped he hadn’t. Call me crazy, but it was my case. If I was finally selling the rink and leaving town, I wanted to do it in a blaze of glory.

My feet hit the hallway as “Viva Las Vegas” blasted through the center. I was almost to the front door when an arm grabbed me.

“Becky, what the hell was that?” Lionel’s green eyes blazed in the fluorescent light.

“What was what?” I could see Sean’s police cruiser turning from the parking lot onto the street.

“The number you did with Sean Holmes. You hate the guy.”

“Hate is a strong word.” I watched the car turn left and strained to see it as it disappeared out of sight. Drat. Looking up at Lionel, I said, “You’re right. Sean and I don’t always see eye-to-eye. Today we do.”

“What’s so different today?”

My first answer was a D-cup blonde in a miniskirt. I went with my second choice. “Until today, I was involved with you. Now that we aren’t dating, I thought I’d give Sean a whirl before I leave town.”

Lionel dropped my arm as if scalded. “You’re really leaving town.” It wasn’t a question. He was pronouncing a death sentence.

“We close on the rink next Friday,” I said, trying to ignore the sick feeling I got when talking about the sale. “As soon as I pack up the apartment, I’m off to Chicago. Then you won’t have to worry about my getting in the way of you and your blond girlfriend.”

“Well then, I guess I should give you something to remember me by when you’re gone.”

Lionel moved quickly. One minute, he was standing three feet away; the next, his mouth was on mine. For a minute, I tried to stay uninvolved, but his mouth was deliciously insistent and was causing tiny goose bumps to sprout up and down my spine. So I caved. Yeah, I was pissed at him for trotting out the resident blonde. And I hated that he’d kept my father’s whereabouts a secret. But damn, the man could kiss. I wrapped my arms around him as my body tightened and tugged in response while striving for more.

“See, honey, Lionel and Rebecca are still together. I knew you got it wrong.”

I blinked as Lionel’s warm body stepped away from mine. Beaming at us were Doc Truman and his wife.

“Hi,” I said, trying inconspicuously to assess whether my garments were all in the right place. “I didn’t see the two of you at the dance.”

“You were both busy,” Mrs. Truman tittered. She was a birdlike woman with sparkly eyes that matched her disposition. Tittering worked for Mrs. Truman.

Doc smiled down at his tiny blond wife. “Mary came early with the Ladies’ Guild. I had to make a trip to the hospital. At least I made it in time for ‘Viva Las Vegas.’”

“Hospital?” An image of a trembling Max sprang to mind. “Who’s in the hospital?”

Doc waved off my concern. “One of the Finn kids fell off his bike and broke his wrist. He’ll be good as new in six weeks.”

“You sounded concerned, dear.” Mary Truman gave my arm a little pat. “Is there someone you’re worried about?”

“My rink manager, Max, went home from work sick. When I stopped to see him earlier today, he was pale and unsteady. I told him to give Doc a call.” I turned to the source and asked, “Did he?”

Doc shook his head. “Sinbad’s boy? Can’t say he did. Eleanor might have answered the phone, but she would have told me about it. I’ll drop by his house tomorrow and check on him, if it’ll make you feel better.”

Small-town hospitality at its finest. It put the big city I loved to shame.

“That’s okay. His mother is probably stuffing him with chicken soup and taking his temperature every five minutes.”

Doc shrugged. “Well, I’ll have Eleanor give his mother a call and see what’s what. If the flu is going around, it’s best to be prepared. Now, the two of you enjoy your evening and I’ll see you both for our game tomorrow.”

Hand in hand, Doc and his wife strolled out of the center, leaving Lionel and me alone.

“I should probably get going.” I inched closer to the front door. “And you should get back to your date. She’s going to be wondering what happened to you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Lionel’s mouth. “I doubt it. When I left, Betsy was flirting with some new lawyer in town. Guess she figured out I was more interested in the floor show than in her.”

Something told me Betsy was exactly the welcoming committee Clayton was looking for. I just hoped she had a fondness for stuffed wildlife. Still, as fascinating as Betsy’s love life was, I had to get going.

“Look, I’m sorry about tonight. My maturity level hit a new low.” Lionel looked ready to delve into deep conversation, so I quickly added, “I really have to go. During my trip through high school behavior, Sean said he was off to arrest someone for the arsons and murder. I don’t have an idea where he went, but—”

“You want to find him.”

I bit my lip and nodded.

Lionel looked like he was torn between murdering me and giving me a patronizing pat. Before he had to choose, though, his phone buzzed. He looked down at the screen. “Sean is at the firehouse. Come on. I’ll drive.”

*   *   *

Sure enough, Sean’s cruiser, its red and blue lights blazing, was parked behind the building. And chaos was raging inside.

“You are not going to arrest Kevin. If you try, you’re going to have to go through me.” Fire Chief Chuck was standing in front of an angry-looking surfer guy, whom I vaguely recognized as Kevin. Behind him, rookie Robbie was flexing his muscles and trying to look intimidating.

Sean had his back to us. For the second time tonight, he was brandishing his gun. “Look, let’s take this down to the station, where we can talk quietly. I just want to ask Kevin a few questions.”

Chuck wasn’t buying it. “It’s quiet enough here. Ask your questions and Kevin will answer them.” Chuck added, “If I think you have cause to arrest Kevin, I’ll take him down to the station myself.”

That did it. Sean heaved a big sigh and holstered his gun. “We’ll do it your way, then.”

Chuck stepped aside with a nod. Robbie looked downright disappointed. Kevin ran his hand through his blond mop of hair and asked, “What do you want to know?”

Sean got out his little cop book. He noticed me out of the corner of his eye and smiled. Yep, Sean had wanted me to witness his triumph. “Where were you last Tuesday between seven and nine in the evening?”

Kevin swallowed hard and shot a look at Chuck. He had Guilty stamped across his face, which he was. This was the guy who’d been ditching a night at the in-laws. He was busted.

Sweating, Kevin admitted, “I was at Chuck’s house, watching the Cubs game.”

Sean’s eyebrows rose. He looked at Chuck with a scowl, as if daring him to alibi a guy who was so obviously guilty.

“My wife and son can vouch for him if you need other witnesses.” Chuck was all authority. “We got the call about the fire and drove here together.”

“Really?” A flush of anger traveled up Sean’s neck. “Then why do I have proof that Kevin ordered Safety Zone fire retardant and had it delivered to his house two weeks ago? The same fire retardant used at the site of both car arsons.” Sean looked over at me and winked.

I was impressed. This time, Sean had actually done his homework before arresting a suspect. Too bad it was once again the wrong person.

The guilty look left Kevin’s face. Now he looked baffled. “You think I bought that stuff so I could set fire to a couple of cars? You’re crazy.”

“I’m crazy?” Sean’s hand reached for his handcuffs. “You’re the one who’s crazy around here.”

“My son had to do a volcano project for summer school, and I wanted to keep my backyard from catching on fire.” Kevin’s face turned as red as Sean’s. “Two jugs of Safety Zone wouldn’t have kept those fields from catching. Hell, for the amount the arsonist used, my son and I could have built a volcano like the one in Dante’s Peak.”

Sean said something. Kevin said something else. I didn’t hear any of it.

A lightbulb was flickering in my head. A movie. Holy crap! Suddenly, everything made sense. The stolen cars with insurance policies to cover the damage. The care with which the arsonist protected the fields around the fire. The missing rink key. The dead community theater tech guy in a burned-out car. And the tiny gray sponge I’d found in the field. It was a wind protector for a microphone.

I knew who had set the fires. It was someone who had told his crew to look for warehouse space to film scenes. Someone making an action movie. Someone I’d thought was sick, but who was trembling and sad because he had killed a friend. Someone who yelled at a roller derby team about responsibility with stunts because he had failed at one.

Someone named Max.

If I remembered correctly, he was finishing filming his movie this week. My bet was on tonight, which meant Sinbad’s car was about to blow. I needed to stop Max before he had the chance.

Sean, Chuck, and Kevin were yelling at one another. Robbie was jumping from foot to foot, as if debating whether to enter the fray. None of them had noticed my Sherlock Holmes moment. I nudged Lionel and hooked my finger toward the door.

We hit the night air, and I started running for Lionel’s monster truck.

“What’s going on?”

“Sean has the wrong guy, and it’s going to take too long to convince him. We don’t have the time.” I climbed into the truck and strapped in as Lionel swung into the driver’s seat. “The right one is going to blow up his father’s car tonight. We have to get to the rink. Fast.”

“Why the rink?”

“I think Max has been using the rink as a soundstage. The farmers are on the lookout for anything suspicious. So is everyone else. Where is the one place Max can walk around doing whatever he wants without looking out of place?” No one would question why my rink manager was at the rink so late. People would just think he was trying to do a good job. And if he had friends with him, so what? He was a college grad just blowing off steam. It was a perfect cover.

Lionel pulled into the rink’s side parking lot, and I hopped down from the truck. All was quiet. Maybe I had misjudged Max. Maybe he wasn’t using the rink for his movie.

“All right, everyone. We have only one shot at this. The dance will be over soon. Let’s make Kurt proud.”

Max.

I took off toward the front of the rink. I could hear Lionel running beside me. Nobody was in the front lot, but I could see some kind of lights glowing on the other side. My heel caught in a pothole, and I stumbled. Lionel’s quick hands saved my butt from meeting the ground, and we kept running.

“Action.”

We turned the corner and ran into a blinding wave of light coming from the vacant lot between the rink and the neighboring antiques store down the road.

“Stop, Willard. Don’t make me shoot you,” a chick’s voice yelled.

My eyes adjusted to the light. A brunette woman wearing black leather pants, a T-shirt, and a black leather vest was brandishing a gun. A scruffy guy with something clutched in his fist was yelling back. Next to the scruffy guy, looking bright and shiny, was Sinbad’s car. A couple of other people scurried around the fringes of the scene, doing God only knows what.

“I can’t stop now. I’ve sacrificed everything for this. My family. My friends. You won’t take this from me, too.”

“Please, Willard. Don’t throw what we have away. I’ll make sure you get a fair shake.”

Hello, melodrama. I looked around for Max. Squinting, I spotted him far in the distance. He was way in the back of the vacant lot, stationed next to a guy holding a camera.

“Come on.” I grabbed Lionel and circled around the now-embracing actors. Either Max had a camera with a great zoom lens or this was a really wide-angle shot. I’d never made a movie, but it seemed to me he should really be closer to the action to be able to hear what was going on. We had to be well over a hundred feet away.

I stepped behind Max and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned.

“Rebecca,” Max whispered, casting a nervous look at the camera. “I thought you’d be at the dance with everyone else in town. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I thought you were home sick,” I said, not caring if my annoyance was recorded for posterity. “I guess both of us were wrong. You need to turn yourself in to the police. They’ll go easier on you that way.” I pulled my phone out of my purse and hit Sean’s speed-dial number.

“And now!” someone to our right yelled.

Now what?

A car door slammed. I looked back to the set, where a guy was frantically sprinting away from Sinbad’s car. The next thing I knew, I was flat on my butt. The car had exploded.

Flames lit the sky. Tires exploded, sending sparks and flaming rubber everywhere. Kaboom. Another explosion hit, louder and brighter than the first one. Set lights blew, the crew started screaming, and smoke filled the air.

“Cut and print,” Max yelled.

Lionel helped me off the ground. I took a step forward as I peered through the flame-lit haze. Sinbad’s car was toast. I hoped he had good insurance.

I took a couple of steps toward the fire, and then I saw it. I couldn’t breathe. It was as if someone had just sucker punched me.

Max had blown a hole in my rink.