Blue Smoke

stripping.”
    “Because?”
    “Too violent, too thorough. Plus, you’ve got high-end tires, and he didn’t take them. And he knew what he was doing, John. We’ve got soot and pyrolysis product on what’s left of the window glass, which indicate ventilation. Without it, most vehicular fires fizzle out. Cars are fairly airtight when the doors and windows are shut. He wanted a fast fire, and added the accelerant to the already rich fuel load of the vehicle. He probably had flashover in under two minutes.”
    “Working theory?”
    “Vengeance fire. The guy wanted that car toasted. He puts a soaked rag trailer in the gas tank. What it’s looking like is he floated a plastic cup with a firecracker in it. Simple, efficient. And again thorough. Multiple points of origin—under the driver’s seat, in the trunk. Couple of what the lab’s identified as potato chip bags, probably used as trailers in the interior. They’re a good one. Give off plenty of heat, burn away to nearly unrecognizable carbonaceous ash, and the oils give you a nice, prolonged fire—enough to engage the upholstery, so if something goes wrong with the device in the tank, the vehicle’s still toast. Torch used basic household items to do the job, and knew what he was doing.”
    “High-end car, all the trimmings. But you don’t figure somebody wanted a pricey car stereo and a little fire fun?”
    “No, I figure it was personal, and the stereo was just a little cake. It was a straight job, not just a little extra fun. The arson was the point.”

    With a nod, John sat back, picked up his beer. “Not much left for me to tell you then. Got your prints, the owner’s. Valet’s at the restaurant where you ate prior to the incident. The mechanic’s from the owner’s garage.” He eyed her as he sipped his beer. “How’s the face?”
    A couple of days—and a lot of ice—had dulled the ache. But she knew her face sported several unattractive colors as it healed. “Looks worse than it is.”
    He leaned forward, lowered his voice. “Tell me this. Did you call anybody but Gina after he slugged you?”
    “No. I gave assent to having my phone records checked.”
    “Did she call anyone? Tell anybody?”
    “No. Well, Steve. But nobody’s looking at him, John. The guys who caught the case talked to all three of us. We’re keeping this up front all the way. I called Gina because I was pissed off, and because I wanted some sympathy. She came over because she was pissed off, and wanted to give some sympathy.”
    She glanced over to make sure none of her family or any neighbors were within earshot. “The fact is, John, getting popped by a guy you’re sleeping with isn’t something a woman likes to spread around. I’d hoped to keep this under the radar, more or less. I don’t know anybody who’d do something like this on my behalf.”
    “You weren’t seeing anybody besides this character?”
    “No. John, I know the timing points to it being connected to me, or at least to the dustup I had with Luke, but I’ve thought about it, I’ve gone over and over it. I can’t see it’s anything but coincidence. You look at the statements.” She tapped the file. “Luke wasn’t Mr. Popularity among his coworkers, his former relationships. Still, none of them look any better for it than I do, at this point. What it looks like is somebody hired a torch. Hell, I’d say the son of a bitch hired one himself to slap back at me, but the timing’s too tight for that to fly.”
    “Pretty tight,” John agreed. “But it’s an angle—the hiring a torch to slap at you. Maybe you ought to think of somebody you might’ve ticked off lately.”

    “Cops are always ticking somebody off,” she muttered.
    “Ain’t that the truth?” He eased back, smiled when Fran brought their pizza to the table. “How’s it going, sweetie?”
    “It’s going good.” But her hand moved over to rub at Reena’s shoulder. “Now, make my baby sister put that work away and eat something.”
    “See what I can do. Put it away,” John advised when Fran walked off. “You’ll handle any heat that comes your way on this. Unofficially, nobody’s looking at you. You’ve got a solid record because you earned it, and your alibi holds. Set it aside, let the system work.”
    “Yeah. You know, John, I don’t know if I chose my career or it chose me. Fire seems to follow me around. Sirico’s, the first boy I really cared about, Hugh. Now this.”
    He slid a slice of pizza