Blue Smoke

for water, then frowned when the phone rang. “Who the hell’s calling me at one in the morning? Better not be Brad wanting me to bail him out of jail. Though to be fair that only happened once.”
    “Don’t answer it yet. Wait.” With her shirt half buttoned, she dashed to the phone, studied the readout. “Do you know this number?”
    “Not right off.” It clicked, she could see it on his face. “Shit. Shit. Do you think it’s him?”
    “Let me answer it.” She picked it up, said, “Yes?”
    “Ready for another surprise? I hate to repeat myself, but you gotta do what you gotta do.”
    She nodded at Bo, then gestured for him to get her paper and pen. “I wondered when you’d call again. How’d you know to reach me here?”
    “Because I know you’re a whore.”
    “Because I slept with you?” she asked, and began to write down the conversation.

    “Can you remember everybody you slept with, Reena?”
    “I’ve got a pretty good memory for that sort of thing. Why don’t you give me a name, or a place? Then we’ll see how memorable it was.”
    “Just think about it, you just think about it, about all the men you let fuck you. Right back to the first.”
    Her hand jerked. “A woman never forgets her first. That’s not you.”
    “We’re going to party, you and me. But right now, why don’t you take a little walk? See what I left for you.”
    The phone clicked. “Bastard,” she muttered, hunting up her cell phone. “He’s done something close, within walking distance. Don’t hang that up,” she added, then picked up her weapon, holstered it on as she dialed from her cell.
    “It’s Hale. I need you to triangulate this number.” She read it off. “It’s going to be a cell phone, and he’s probably mobile. I’m giving you the number he called, leaving that line open.” She rattled out Bo’s number as she walked out of the kitchen. “He may have set a fire in the vicinity of my house. I want a couple of patrols. I’m heading outside now to check it out. You can reach me . . . Son of a bitch!”
    She heard Bo curse behind her, then take off running back to the kitchen. “I’ve got a vehicle fire, this address. Bastard. Call it in!”
    Bo flew by her, armed with a fire extinguisher.
    The hood of the truck was up, the engine spitting out fire. Smoke billowed out of the bed, and beneath, pools of gas shimmered with flame. The tires were smoldering and the acrid stench of burning rubber soiled the air. More flames danced over the hood, along the roof of the cab, aided by the pleasant summer breeze.
    But fury turned to fear when she spotted the trailer of rags burning toward the open gas tank. Twisting out of the tank with them was a red linen napkin with the Sirico’s logo folded down at the corner.
    “Get back!” She leaped at Bo, yanked the extinguisher out of his hands. There was either enough left, or there wasn’t, she thought dully, and aimed at the tank.
    Foam spurted out. Smoke blinded her, choked her as the breeze wavedit in her face. The flavor of fire filled her mouth again as, along the ground, the streams of burning gas slid closer.
    “Forget the truck.” Bo grabbed her on the fly, dragged her with him as he sprinted across the street.
    The explosion shot the rear of the truck into the air, slammed it back down as the punch of it knocked them off their feet. There was a firestorm of blazing metal, hot shrapnel that rained onto the street, over other vehicles as he rolled with her under the cover of a parked car.
    “Are you hurt? Are you burned?”
    He shook his head, stared at the inferno that had been his truck. His ears rang, his eyes stung, and his arm felt flame kissed. When he ran his hand over it, it came away bloody.
    “I almost had it. Another few seconds—”
    “You almost got yourself blown up for a goddamn Chevy pickup.”
    “He played me. He timed it.” Fire danced in her eyes as she slammed her fist on the asphalt. “The engine, the bed, distractions. If I’d seen the fuse sooner . . . Jesus, Bo, you’re bleeding.”
    “Scraped up my arm some when we hit.”
    “Let me see it. Where’s my phone? Where’s my damn phone?” She crawled out, saw it lying broken on the street. “Here they come.” Sirens wailed, and people poured out of neighboring houses. “Sit down over here, let me look at your arm.”
    “It’s okay. Let’s both sit down a minute.”
    He wasn’t sure if he was shaking, or if she was. Maybe both of them, so he