Blue Smoke

Tony came out of the garage, calling her.
    “Ah, something else. Private.”
    “Sure. Be right with you,” she said to O’Donnell, and walked around the side of the building with Tony.
    “He really kill somebody?”
    “We’re looking at that.”
    “And you think he might try to hurt Tracey or the kid?”
    “He deals in payback, Tony. Right now he’s too busy to worry about you. But if we don’t get him, he may find the time. You’re going to want to stay out of his way, and contact me if he gets in touch.”
    “Yeah, I got that. I got a break when Tracey took a chance on me. I don’t risk that, not for anything or anyone. Listen.” He took his cap off again, ran his hand through what was left of his hair. “Um, when we were kids, before, well, before all hell broke loose on the block, he used to follow you.”
    “Follow me?”
    “He used to watch you around school, around the neighborhood. He’d, ah, sneak out at night and look in the windows of your house, maybe climb that tree in the back, try to see into your bedroom. I went with him sometimes.”
    “See anything interesting, Tony?”
    His gaze lowered to the toes of his boots. “He was going to rape you. He didn’t call it that, and I’m telling you straight, Reena, I didn’t think of it like that, either. I was twelve. He said he was going to do you, wantedme to come along for it. I didn’t want any part of that, and, besides, I thought he was just blowing smoke. Mostly I thought it was gross. But after, well, when everybody heard how he’d knocked you down and . . . I knew what he’d been trying. I didn’t say anything to anybody.”
    “You’re saying it now.”
    He looked back at her. “I’ve got a little girl. She’s just five. When I think . . . I’m sorry. I want to say I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to anyone before he tried to hurt you. I want you to know, you’ve got my word, if he gets in touch with me again, I won’t tell him you’re looking for him. And I’ll call you first thing.”
    “All right, Tony.” To seal it, she took his hand, shook it. “It’s nice you have a family now.”
    “Makes a difference.”
    “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
    W e have confirmation Joey P. was in the area at or around the time of Josh’s death, and of the vehicular fire of Luke’s car. We have confirmation he was in Baltimore two to three weeks ago.”
    Reena briefed the arson squad, Steve as fire inspector and members of the Crime Scene Unit.
    “He was reported to be driving a black Jeep Cherokee, possibly a ’ninety-three, when he left the residence of Tony Borelli. There is no vehicle registered in the name of Joseph Pastorelli, Junior. Or Senior. His mother doesn’t own a car. It’s possible the vehicle was borrowed from an acquaintance, or more likely stolen. We’re in the process of culling through reports of stolen Cherokees. Younger?”
    He shifted in his chair. “We’re still piecing things together, but it looks like the device placed in Goodnight’s gas tank was the same type used in the Chambers vehicular fire six years ago. Firecracker floating in a cup, soaked rags for a fuse. We’re looking at like crimes, pulling them in from New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and Pennsylvania. We’re also taking a closer look at the homicide and car torching in North Carolina thattook out Hugh Fitzgerald. And the case, deemed accidental death, of Joshua Bolton is now reopened.”
    One of the other detectives nodded toward the board where both Pastorellis’ mug shots were pinned, along with various crime-scene photos. “We’re going on the assumption that this guy’s been lighting fires for ten years or more, has killed at least two people, and never got smoke in his eyes before this?”
    “That’s right,” Reena said. “He’s careful, he’s good. It’s very possible he had some protection from the Carbionellis, has likely done some torch work for them. And the assumption continues that up until this point he had no motive to make himself known to me. What that motive is? He’s still the only one who knows it. But he keeps coming back here. He’s drawn back to Baltimore.”
    “You’re part of the reason why,” Steve pointed out.
    “Me,” she agreed, “his father and what happened during that August of ’eighty-five. He holds grudges, and he’s not afraid to hold them for a long time. Before this, as far as we know, he came in, took his shot, backed off. This time, he’s staying, he’s