Blue Smoke

curtains, deal with the floors, probably start shopping for new furniture. Then I’m going to have workers underfoot, probably for weeks at a time.”
    “Gets old,” Sam agreed.
    “But if you’re going to live there, you might as well have what you want.” Reena smiled at Sarah as she said it.
    “Well, it’s your home.” Sarah pressed her lips together, avoiding meeting Reena’s gaze.
    “Don’t get her started,” Sam said with a laugh, and leaned over to kiss her cheek.
    “I’m going to have to get some estimates, I suppose, at least for things I can’t handle myself.” Reena kept her tone casual, conversational. “Like the plumbing, some carpentry. The kitchen. I’m told the kitchen’s usually the biggest chunk in the budget. What kind of bids did you all get for yours?”
    “Got one two weeks ago. Twenty-five thousand.” Sam shook his head. “You go custom cabinets, solid surface, and that can double. It’s ridiculous.” He waved a hand. “Don’t get me started.”
    “It must be hard, Mrs. Greene, to have most of your house done up just as you want it, and have an old, outdated kitchen. Sore thumb.”
    “I guess it’s going to get done now,” Sam put in. He wrapped an arm around Sarah. “Triumph through tragedy. Insurance will cover a lot of it.Not worth Sarah getting hurt.” He lifted her injured hand gently at the wrist, kissed the bandage. And she began to cry again.
    “Come on, baby, it’s not so bad. Don’t cry. Does it still hurt?”
    “If you don’t make the claim, Sarah,” Reena said gently, “this can go away. We can make this go away, but not if you put in an insurance claim. Then it’s fraud. Then it’s arson. It’s a crime.”
    “What are you talking about?” There was anger topping off Sam’s question. “What the hell is this? Fraud? Arson? Is this how you treat people when they’re hurt, when they’re in trouble?”
    “We’re trying to make this easy on you,” O’Donnell told him. “On both of you. We have reason to believe the fire didn’t start exactly the way you’ve stated, Mrs. Greene. This goes to the next step, to your insurance company, we’re not going to be able to help you.”
    “I want you to leave. My wife was hurt. You’re sitting here trying to say she did this on purpose. You’re out of your mind.”
    “I didn’t mean it.”
    “Of course you didn’t, honey.”
    “I just wanted a new kitchen.”
    Reena took tissues from her purse, passed them over. “So you started the fire.”
    “She didn’t—”
    “I was mad,” she interrupted, and turned to her husband’s stunned face. “I was just so mad at you, Sam. I hated cooking in there, or having our friends over. I told you, but you kept saying it was too much right now, and we’d have to wait, and you were sick of having the house torn up.”
    “Oh my God, Sarah.”
    “I didn’t think it would be like this. I’m so sorry. And after I did it, it was so awful, and I was so scared. I really did panic,” she said to Reena. “I thought it would burn the curtains, and some of the counter, but it got so much so fast, and I just panicked. And when I picked up the skillet the second time, after I put it on the counter, it was so hot, and it burned my hands. I was afraid the house would burn down, and I ran out, ran next door. I was so scared. I’m so sorry.”

    “Sarah, you could’ve been killed. You could’ve . . . over a kitchen?” He gathered her in when she began to sob, looked at Reena over his wife’s head. “We won’t put a claim in. Please, you don’t have to charge her, do you?”
    “It’s your home, Mr. Greene.” O’Donnell got to his feet. “As long as there’s no attempt to defraud, there’s no crime.”
    “Sarah, people do stupid things.” Reena touched her shoulder. “But fire’s very unforgiving. You don’t want to test it again.” She took out a card, set it on the coffee table. “You can call me if you have any questions, or need to talk about this. Ah, it’s probably none of my business, but when you’re ready to deal with the repairs, I know somebody who might give you a lower bid.”
    P eople,” O’Donnell said as they walked to the car.
    “I felt a little like I was poking at a puppy with a stick.” She glanced back at the house. “They’ll either be able to make a joke out of this—tragedy plus time equals comedy. Oh yeah, we love these countertops. We got them because Sarah torched the old ones. Or they’ll be