Tin City Tinder (A Boone Childress Mystery)
Page 20
Outside, the courthouse green was in a state of bedlam. Tanker trucks from all over the county roared down the roads around the square. Firefighters ran toward the building while pulling on their turnouts.
People clustered around the bandstand. A bevy of debutantes clung to the back railing, trying to avoid Sheriff Hoyt as he was slapping the cuffs on G.D. Landis, who was seated in his wheelchair, screaming for his son.
“Up here!” I yelled. “Mayday! Mayday!”
“Boone-san!” Luigi ran toward the window. “The building is on fire!”
“I know that!” Smoke poured past me and out the open window. “We’re trapped! We need a ladder truck!”
“No time!” Cedar yelled. “The fire’s at our backs!”
The ladder truck was bulky and long. The trees, buses, and hundreds of chairs on the green would slow it down too much.
“Boone!” Abner yelled. “Stay there! They’re bringing a trampoline.”
A trampoline.
They wanted us to jump.
From a two story window.
“I don’t think I can do that, Boone!” Cedar yelled.
“Me, neither!”
“I have acrophobia!” she shouted.
“Me, too! Let’s take our chances with the fire!”
“I’m serious!”
“Me, too!”
Down below, the firefighters gathered. They stretched the trampoline ring out. Lamar was barking orders to the others, and I saw that the whole Allegheny squad had taken hold of the ring.
“Let’s go!” I yelled. “It’s now or never!”
Cedar looked down and froze.
She couldn’t move.
I pushed her off the windowsill.
As she fell, Cedar screamed, “You asshole!”
Her butt hit the center of the ring, and the trampoline collapsed inside, wrapping her safely like a cocoon.
“Your turn!” Lamar called up to me.
“I’m good!”
“Boone Childress,” Cedar yelled as they reset the trampoline for another go. “Jump down here this instant!”
I licked my lips nervously. They were chapped.
I had to jump.
No two ways about it.
I lifted a foot, bent my knees, and told myself to go.
My feet stayed stuck to the sill.
Behind the door, the receptionist’s counter exploded. The door flew open, and the super heated air rushed toward me. The force of the blast blew me off balance.
And out of the window.
I screamed like a little girl and landed in the trampoline with a huge humph of air.
At first, I saw only stars.
Then Cedar was leaning over me, smiling. The sky was a deep, rich blue, the color of a wide-open sea.
It felt like home.
Cedar cradled my head in her arms. “I love you, you big idiot.”
“I love you, too,” I said and pulled her onto to the trampoline as our lips met.
“Next time we're caught in a fire,” she said. “You better not push me.”
"Next time we're caught in a fire," I said. "Don't take so long to jump."
EPILOGUE
By the end of May, there was little evidence that the farm where Athena and Troy Blevins grew up ever existed. A bulldozer had swept away the bones of the fire that had destroyed it, along with shell of the heating oil tank that had been buried beneath it.
It was above that tank that Peter Mercer had placed a pot of thermite and then ignited it with a delay fuse like the one he had stuck into Cedar’s hands. The fuse lit the thermite, and the thermite burned white-hot straight into the tank, where it ignited a decade’s worth of sludge and leftover oil. The explosion unearthed the remains of Athena and Troy’s Great Aunt Ellen, who was buried closest to the house.
Now, the aunt was being re-interred, along with the rest of the bodies that had been removed by Stuart and Early. The man paying for the work was Trey Landis, who had donated the site to the Allegheny County Historical Society as an apology for the trouble his father had caused.
“Trouble he caused?” I asked Cedar.
We stood in the shade of live oak watching a crew of graduate students from Carolina Tech processing each set of remains.
“That’s how he’s phrasing it in the paper,” Cedar said. “Damage control.”
“Trouble is a pleasant euphemism for all the crap Landis did.”
The process had taken a day a half so far, and Abner expected at least two more days. Yesterday, Dr. K and Mr. Blevins had been on hand, along with Allegheny VFW and my family. A preacher had blessed the work before they started, and he would return later to bless the graves once the work was finished. Mr. Blevins had left right away. Dr. K had stayed most of the day, but when it came time to identify her own family, she was overcome and had to depart.
Together, we walked over to a tent that had been set up as a break area. There were four colors filled with ice and drinks and another loaded with snacks. Two platters of cookies were stacked on one of the folding tables, still covered in plastic wrap. Barefoot Bennie’s catered in breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Except for the cookies.
I made those.
“The headstones came in this morning,” I said as I grabbed a beer for myself.
“I saw them. They look nice.” Cedar pressed the icy bottle on the back of her neck. She was wearing a bikini top and shorts, and I watched a stream of condensation roll down the full length of her sun-kissed spine. “Did you try your cookies yet?”
“I’m afraid to.”
“How will you know if they’re edible?” she asked.
“I could feed them to the graduate students.”
“That bunch of vultures?” Cedar sat on the table. “They think Barefoot Bennie’s is fine dining.”
I laughed.
But I didn’t try the cookies.
A lot had changed. Stumpy Meeks was still living in a trailer, but it was on Dr. K’s property, and he was getting treatment for diabetes. The county courthouse was undergoing repairs for the fire and water damage. The preservation efforts were being led by Mrs. Yarbrough, who wanted the building renovated, not just fixed. She would probably get her way. Lamar had let me back on the Allegheny VFD, and after two calls, I hadn’t been kicked off. G.D. Landis and Pete Mercer were locked away.
“Wish your mom could see this,” Cedar said.
“She was out here yesterday with Lamar. They’re coming back this evening when Mom gets off work. It’s probably better if she doesn’t hang around. Abner gets kind of squirrely when she starts butting in.”
“Heard anything more about old man Landis?”
“Nothing that’s not in the paper.”
Because the arrest of G.D. Landis took place in front of roughly half the town of Galax, it took only nanoseconds for the rest of the county to find out about it. By the time he was booked and processed through the Allegheny County jail, there was an old-fashioned mob outside the jailhouse. There was also a team of attorneys from Raleigh, the advance guard for a group that would soon include over a dozen high-powered and high-priced lawyers.
G.D. spent almost no time in jail. A judge who was presiding at the festival convened a special session in the courthouse annex as the volunteer firefighters knocked down the fire and were using foam on the Class D metals fire. He set Landis’ bond at two million dollars, and the old man was free. Free until Trey had him committed to a hospital in Raleigh for psychiatric treatment. Conventional wisdom said that he would die before the case ever came to trial.
For his part, Trey claimed no knowledge of his father’s arson for hire spree, and he had no idea that Autumn Hills was being created as a white man’s utopia. He cancelled the project and started trying to clean up the mess. Last I heard, he had sold his home and was moving to New York to pursue a career in art.
Pete Mercer wasn’t so lucky. After his arrest, he was housed in the drunk tank, which had not been cleaned since the last two occupants. He w
as being held without bond for murder, arson, kidnapping, assault, and lying on my employment application. A public defender had been appointed for him, but Mercer fired him and demanded to act as his own attorney. His trial was months away still, and no one expected him to go quietly.
Eugene Loach and the twins were dismissed from the Atamasco VFD, along with the captain of the station. Eugene closed the family store on the highway, and no one had heard from him or Dewayne since. I sometimes worried what they were up to.
Cedar took a long drink of her beer, tilting her head back so that her neck stretched out, tanned, long, and delicate.
“Cedar,” he began after clearing my throat.
“Yes?”
“I was thinking.”
“Thinking about what?”
“About fall semester and where we would both be.”
“Funny,” she said, “I was a lot more interested in the summer than the fall.”
She threaded her fingers through my and stood on tiptoe for a kiss, which was immediately interrupted by the sound of a car horn. A Chevy Suburban bounced over the rough group, coming too fast. I recognized the truck.
It was Gretchen’s.
But Gretchen was in the passenger’s seat.
“Oh hell. Luigi’s driving.” I started waving frantically. “Hit the brakes! Hit the brakes!”
“Oh my god,” Cedar said.
She hopped from the table, then grabbed my shirt and pulled me back. They stumbled through the row of plastic chairs as the brakes on the Suburban squealed, and the front bumper knocked into the first cooler, spilling ice and beer on the ground.
“My bad!” Luigi hopped out of the truck. “That is correct slang, no?”
“Yes, very correct. I think you’re getting the hang of idioms.”
“My bad luck.” He snapped his fingers. “Just in time to leaf.”
“That’s leave.”
He grinned. “I know!”
"Are you insane?" Cedar ran up to Gretchen. “You let Luigi drive?”
“Wasn’t he cool?” Her face was glowing. “I was taking him to the airport? And he says, I have only one regret about America, and I say what? And he says, I have not learned to drive a car. So I was like, I’ll teach you. So I let him drive from my house to say goodbye to you guys. Très cool, huh?”
“Gretchen,” Cedar said through clenched teeth, “You think it was cool that he almost ran over us?”
“Very!” Gretchen laughed and ran to the driver’s side. “Hurry up and say bye, honey-kin.”
“Honey-kin?” I turned to Luigi. “You let her call you that?”
Luigi shrugged. “How can I stop her? She is like the breeze though my bushes.”
“You mean the wind through the trees.”
“That, too.” Luigi stuck out my hand. “This is sayonara, Boone-san. Thank you for being my friend.”
“Uh.” I shook my hand. “Uh. Well. Sure. I—“
Luigi laughed. “Ah, you know so many words in class, but with friends, not so much. You must work on that.”
Gretchen honked the horn. “You’re going to miss your flight!”
Luigi hugged Cedar, then jogged back to the Suburban. “Boone-san! Do not forget the exchange program application. The deadline is soon. You must come Osaka. Visit me on my grass!”
“Turf!” Cedar and I both yelled.
Gretchen put the truck in reverse as Luigi closed the door. She whipped through a three-point turn and floored it, throwing mud behind her.
“I’m sad,” I said.
Cedar turned to me. She set a tender hand over mine. “It’s okay to miss your friend, Boone. I know you military types aren’t good at expressing emotions.”
“No, not that.” I removed the wrap from a tray of cookies. “I wanted Luigi to try my snickerdoodles.”
“You jerk face!”
I stuffed a cookie in her mouth.
“Mmm,” she said, taking a bite and chewing. “These are terrific. How did you make them?”
“Mom taught me.” I scooped up one and took a bite. Buttery, just the way he liked them. “You know, spending time in the kitchen with someone is a bonding experience? You talk about all sorts of things. And not just recipes.”
“Mm-hmm,” Cedar said, taking another bite of snickerdoodle. “Like what?”
“Like, you know, stuff.” I moved closer. “Like how sometimes, you can see all of the dots, but for some reason you can’t see to connect them. Know what I mean?”
She reached for another cookie. “Nope.”
I caught her hand. “I was just thinking.”
“What about?”
“That you have crumb on the side of your mouth.”
“Oh?” Cedar smiled. “Want to help me out with that, sailor?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
I bent down and touched my lips to hers. I traced the edge of her lips and felt the heat from her mouth as her breath caught, and I held there, feeling her skin against mine and thinking that she tasted way better than any cookie ever could.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
INFO
TIN CITY TINDER
Copyright © 2014 David Macinnis Gill
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the publisher in writing.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
David Macinnis Gill has been a house painter, cafeteria manager, bookstore schleper, high school teacher, and college professor. He now lives on the Carolina coast with his family and a rescued dog who thinks he’s a cat.
OTHER WORKS BY DAVID MACINNIS GILL
For Adults
Tin City Tinder, a Boone Childress Mystery
Ironville Inferno, a Boone Childress Mystery
Broken Circles & Other Stories
For Young Adults
Stand-Alones
Soul Enchilada
The Black Hole Sun Series
Black Hole Sun
Invisible Sun
Shadow on the Sun
Rising Sun, a novella
Short Stories
“Broken Circles”
“Cut Bait”
“Eating Dirt”
“Going for Broke”
“A Pale Heart”
“People’s Song”
“The Scent of Apples”
If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a review on Amazon.com or Amazon UK.
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