Blue Smoke

think about it.”

14
    The fire started in the attic of a lovely old brownstone on Bolton Hill. The upscale neighborhood had pretty little parks, and leafy trees lining the streets.
    The occupants had lost the entire third story, most of the roof and portions of the second floor. As the fire had started mid-morning on a weekday, no one was home.
    An alert—or nosy—neighbor had spotted the smoke and flames and called the fire department.
    Reena read through the reports as they headed to the scene.
    “No signs of forced entry. Owners have a security system. Weekly housekeeper has the code. Fire inspector has the point of origin in the attic. Newspapers, the remains of a matchbook.”
    “Nice neighborhood,” O’Donnell commented.
    “Yeah. I poked around here a little when I was shopping for a house. Just kept winding back to the old neighborhood.”
    “Nothing wrong with that. Heard you’ve got an interesting neighbor.”
    Her eyes narrowed on his face. “How’d you hear about that?”
    “Maybe your father mentioned it to John, maybe John mentioned it to me.”
    “Maybe you all should find more interesting things to talk about than my boy next door.”

    “Got no criminal.”
    “You did a run on him? For God’s sake.”
    “Safety first.” O’Donnell winked at her, then slid into a parking spot at the curb. “Speeding ticket about six months ago.”
    “I don’t want to know.” She got out of the car, rounded to the back for her field kit.
    “Single, no marriage on record.”
    “Shut up, O’Donnell.”
    He got his own kit. “Got his business licenses for Baltimore and Prince Georges counties. Lists a PG County address for business. That’s his partner’s place. Your guy moves around a lot. Relocates about every six, eight months.”
    “This is so intrusive.”
    “Yeah.” O’Donnell had a spring to his step as he walked toward the house. “That’s what makes it fun. See, what he does is he and his partner buy buildings—houses mostly—then do the fixer-upper deal, turn them. Your boy—”
    “Not my boy.”
    “Your boy moves in, works from inside, gets the place tuned up, sells it, buys another, moves on. Been doing it last ten or twelve years, looks like.”
    “Good for him. Now maybe we could focus on the job instead of my life.”
    She studied the building first, the scorching on the brown brick, the angles of the roof collapse. She took pictures for the file. “Report says the attic door and window were open.”
    “Get some nice cross-ventilation going that way,” O’Donnell commented. “Stored stuff up there, like you do. Off-season clothes, holiday decorations. Good fuel.”
    “Neighbor’s coming out,” Reena said quietly as she lowered the camera. “I’ll take her.”
    “Get started then.” O’Donnell hefted his kit and started for the door.
    “Ma’am.” Reena drew her badge from her waistband. “I’m Detective Hale from the Baltimore City Police, Arson Unit.”

    “Arson. Well, well.” The woman was tiny, dark-skinned and neat as pressed linen.
    “My partner and I are doing a follow-up on the incident. Are you Mrs. Nichols? Shari Nichols?”
    “That’s right.”
    “You reported the fire.”
    “That I did. I was out in the back. I’ve got a little container garden out there. Smelled it first. The smoke.”
    “That was about eleven A . M .?”
    “About eleven-fifteen. I know because I was thinking my youngest would be home from kindergarten in about an hour, and that would be the end of the quiet.” She smiled a little. “She’s a hellion.”
    “How long had you been outside before you smelled smoke?”
    “Oh, an hour maybe, if that. And I went back in about quarter of for a few minutes because I’d forgotten to bring out the phone. The fire inspector, he already asked me if I saw anyone around. I didn’t.”
    She looked up at her neighbor’s house. “Damn shame. But thank God nobody was home, nobody was hurt. I can tell you it scared me, scared me good. The idea it could spread to my house.”
    She rubbed a hand over her throat as she looked up at the blistered trim, the soot-blackened bricks. “The fire department came quick. Gives you some peace of mind.”
    “Yes, ma’am. If you didn’t see anything, maybe you heard something.”
    “I heard the smoke alarms from inside the house. Didn’t notice them at first. I had music on. But once I smelled the smoke, looked around and saw it coming out of the window up in the attic, I heard