Fire Works in the Hamptons : A Willow Tate Novel (9781101547649) by Celia Jerome

left quickly.
    â€œNormal, huh?”
    â€œBut not dull.”
    Outside again, a cold drizzle turned the town gray and dreary, so we halted the tour and got back in the car. Piet wanted to see the sites of the recent fires, following the list Mac at the firehouse gave him.
    We saw scorched trash cans in the center of town, but everything in or around them had been swept up and sanitized days ago. A few of the torched mailboxes on the side streets still waited for repairs. Ignoring the rain, Piet got out and touched and smelled and walked around six of them.
    He did the same at the charred old shed behind the bowling alley while Elladaire and I read the new books. The Wheels on the Bus book had wheels that turned! What would they think of next?
    Piet came back with a handful of dirt or leaves that he wanted to examine later. I found my mother’s stash of pooper-scooper bags under the backseat for him. He stuffed some in his pockets while I drove out to the demolished beach cottage.
    You could smell soot, even with the rain and the distance from the house where I had to park the car. A narrow crushed-shell path led down to the ruins on the shore, but you couldn’t see much from here.
    â€œDo you have to go? It’s awfully far away. And I think it’s raining harder.”
    â€œI have my rain poncho.”
    â€œThe county arson squad’s been here, and the insurance inspectors. None of them found anything. Big Eddie sniffed for accelerants, anything suspicious. I thought the cause of a fire was not your field of expertise.”
    He was pulling the plastic raincoat on over his head. “I’ve seen a lot of fires,” was all he said.
    â€œBut you won’t see Elladaire from there.” That was my main concern, of course, not that he’d get wet or waste his time. “The building could be out of your range.” He’d said his extinguishing distance varied with weather and terrain.
    â€œYou want me to take her out in the storm?”
    The baby’s lip was quivering already, and her eyes started to fill with tears. Her Pipi was leaving. “Do you want her to cry in a closed car when you’re gone?”
    â€œDamn. How far is it to the house?”
    â€œHow should I know? I’ve never been down that path.”
    â€œIt can’t be too far. People have to carry groceries and get fuel deliveries.”
    â€œIt’s a beach cottage. Sorry, it was a beach cottage. I think they said there was no furnace to malfunction, only a fireplace and an electric heater. Neither used recently. The place didn’t rent this summer, with the poor economy.” I gave Elladaire a dog squeaky toy I found under the seat when I looked for the poop bags. She put it into her mouth. Oh, hell. But she stopped crying. “What if you’re not looking at her?”
    â€œI’ll walk backward, okay?”
    Down the steep path? “Don’t be absurd. Go. Listen if I call.”
    â€œYou really are a worrier, aren’t you?”
    â€œWorld-class. It runs in my family, on my father’s side. I’m sorry; I don’t mean to be a nag. That’s from my mother’s side.”
    â€œDon’t apologize. It’s kind of cute.”
    Cute? I’m waiting to be turned into a charcoal briquette and he thinks it’s cute? “Are you sure your thing will still work if you’re out of sight?”
    â€œMy thing is working fine.” He gave a devil’s grin. “My fireproofing works unless I’m unconscious. That’s the only way to turn it off. A doctor from DUE tested when I was a kid having my tonsils out. They checked again during the last surgery. Not in the OR, of course. But one of their agents tried to use a cigarette lighter before I recovered from the anesthesia. The lighter worked.” He got out of the car. “I’m wide awake now. You and Edie will be fine. Trust me.”
    I did, except. Except Elladaire was