This fire was intentional, and by god, I was going to prove it.

A car horn sounded. An ice blue BMW parked behind the fire trucks. A man of average height, dressed in a pinstriped gray suit, climbed out of the driver’s seat. He was tanned and fit, with a pile of dark hair swept back in a pompadour.

“Sheriff!” He removed a pair of sunglasses and flashed a bleached smile. “Good to see you. How are the kids? Saw that boy of yours did well in the swim meet this past week.”

“Kind of you to notice, Mr. Landis.” Hoyt’s face brightened, and he extended a beefy hand. “What brings you to the middle of nowhere?”

“Oh, Just in the area and saw the commotion. Mind if we take a walk? There’s a couple things I’d like to discuss.”

Hoyt followed Landis down the driveway. I tried to eavesdrop. Their voices were drowned out by the noise of the crews storing hose, releasing pressure valves, and making plans for where they would share their after-fire beer. It was a tradition for firefighters to toast one another’s hard work and good fortune after a call. It was also tradition for the rookie to buy.

That meant me.

Julia handed me a hooligan tool. “Don’t let Lamar see you left this behind. He’s real particular about tools. Especially when he made them himself.”

“Thanks. Who’s that?” I pointed to Landis. “The guy in the suit talking to Hoyt?”

Julia blew her nose into a handkerchief. The phlegm was coal black. “That would be Trey Landis. His family owns half the county and all the judges. You grew up here, and you never heard of him?”

“It’s been four years. You forget stuff,” I said. “Wonder why he’s here?”

“Trey’s a big siren chaser. They say he’s got a scanner stuck to his dashboard. His family’s real big contributors to the Fraternal Order of Police and the Fireman’s Beneficiary. They gave a thousand dollars last year.”

“That’s generous.”

“They’re millionaires. A thousand bucks’s chump change to them.”

“That’s what I took home every month.” I folded my turnouts and put them in the floorboard. “It’s all about scale.”

“Not the way I see it,” she said. "One time, Otto and me were passing the boot for a voile who died working a car fire. This one guy put a twenty in, and I know for a fact that it was the last twenty dollars he had on this earth. He said the widow needed it more than him. I knew the guy didn’t have a bite to eat in his house, and his truck was out of gas. For a solid week, he ate nothing but saltine crackers and walked everywhere he went. So when a man’s as rich as Landis, I ain’t so impressed by a thousand dollars.”

“I’d like the meet the man who did that.”

“You already have.” Julia winked. “It was Lamar.”

6

Barefoot Bonnie’s Pub was a stone’s throw from Red Fox Lake. It had a view of the waterway where sailboats inched through glass-calm waters. It was the perfect spot for rowdy volunteer firefighters to celebrate my first fire.

“A round of cold ones for my friends.” I stepped up to the bar. “And the rest of these losers, too.”

“You’re a firefighter?” The bartender and owner, Bonnie, was in her mid-forties. She wore a swim top and a lime green skirt. She was also barefoot. “How old are you, handsome?”

I flashed my military ID. “Old enough to pay for this bunch.”

“You have my sympathies.” Bonnie smiled with her eyes, which I noted were light blue. She drew a round from the keg. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just put out my first fire.”

“He sure did.” Julia threw an arm over my shoulder. “We busted his cherry real good.”

Bonnie cocked an eyebrow in that a catty, oh really, bitch way. She set the beers on the bar. “Why’s he buying?”

“Tradition.” Julia grabbed four mugs. “It’s a firefighter thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

She walked away toward the vollie’s table.

“Watch out for that one,” Bonnie said. “She’s trouble.”

I gathered the remaining mugs. “How so?”

“You haven’t even slept with her, and she’s already marking her territory. Her cards are on the table for everybody to see.”

“Thanks.” I dropped a five in the jar. “I appreciate the tip.”

“If you ever need advice, there’s more where that came from.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am.”

“It’s Bonnie to you.”

I saluted with a mug. “Yes, ma’am.”

Julia and I delivered the beers. The crew stood and raised their glasses.

“To my stepson,” Lamar began, “who worked as a team member this morning. For probably the first time in his life. Welcome to the club.”

“Cheers!” they all shouted and clinked their glasses together.

“Speech!” Julia yelled.

“Short speech!” Otto said.

“Very short speech!”

I stood and raised my own glass. “Um. Thanks? I’m not much for this kind of thing, so I’ll just say, appreciate y’all putting up with me and sorry you’ll have to put up with me on a permanent basis now.”

“Cheers!”

They drained their mugs and sat down.

“Bonnie!” Otto yelled. “Another round!”

“Aw,” Julia said, “that speech was awful. Sweet, but awful.”

“What can I say?” I said. “I gave fair warning.”

“That’s okay.” Julia grabbed my knee. “You just need some extra training.”

“I’m already house broken.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Yeah, I thought, I know exactly what you meant. “Lamar.” I turned to my stepfather. “I was thinking of asking Abner to look over the fire site. There’s something hinky about it.”

“No,” Lamar said. “Your granddaddy’s retired. Leave him to his fishing hole, where he can’t cause trouble.”

“What’s wrong with causing a little trouble?”

“With Abner, it’s never a little trouble.” Lamar emptied his beer. “That’s it for me, boys—and girl. Got to get back to work. Boone, don’t you have class?”

The toughest thing about coming home was dealing with Lamar and Mom. They insisted on parenting me, even though I was twenty-three and had a uniform full of chest candy. At first, I let it slide, but it was really starting to grind my nerves.

With a chorus of boos, the crew downed their beers and rose from the table. I dropped another tip for the busboy and took the last sip of beer.

“That was a nice tip,” Julia took my arm and steered me outside. “Are you always that generous?”

“Servers worked hard. You give a little, you get a lot back.”

She opened her car door. “I’ll keep that in mind. Just in case.”

“Um. Yeah.” My cell rang. Cedar’s name popped up. “Got to take this. Catch you later.”

“Later.” She gunned her engine. “‘Mater.”

“Hey, Cedar.” I stuffed a finger in my ear to block the noise. “What’s up?”

“Good news,” she said. “I’ve got Luigi’s notes from the lab, and Dr. K is letting you make up the missed time.”

“Really? That’s awesome.” I jumped away from Julia’s Mustang. She did a donut and roared out of the lot. “I really owe you.”

“Make up for it by buying me lunch,” she said, “and I’ll give you the details. Food court in an hour?”

“Got it.” I ended the call and scrolled through my contacts for the name Abner Zickafoose. The phone rang five times before going to message. “Hey, Doc, it’s Boone. Call me back. I’ve got some human remains that might interest you.”

7

It took more than an hour to change into a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt, drive to campus, find a parking place, and dash to the cafeteria. It took fifteen minutes longer to be exact, the number of minutes Cedar had been sitting alone at a table, pushing around her salad like Sisyphus rolling his stone.

Her yellow sundress was pretty easy to pick out of the crowd. When she stood, the pouring sunlight gave her an aura. I could see her legs right through the fabric.

Don’t be such a perv, I thought and looked at the ceiling.

Cedar greeted me with a friendly hug. “You smell like smoke and beer.”