Flashover (A Sean McGhee Mystery Book 2) Read online

“We should get up,” she murmured, her eyes still closed.

  “We don’t have to.”

  “Maybe you don’t, but I do.”

  She groaned and stretched, her fingers and toes splayed, before she rolled to her hip and sat up on the edge of the bed. She sat for a moment then stumbled to her feet. He smiled as she staggered into the bathroom. Even sleep tossed, she was lovely.

  He checked his phone for the time, his eyes opening slightly wider. 9:26. They’d slept late. When he heard the toilet flush he realized that he also had to relieve himself. He’d just stepped into the bathroom when Maggie started the shower.

  “Need some help?” he asked with grin.

  She smiled, looking slightly more awake now than she had a moment before. “No, but I’d like the company.”

  He paused long enough to give her a passing kiss. “Be there in a moment.”

  After they were chased from the shower by the water turning cold, Sean spent a couple of hours mowing Maggie’s yard while she shucked corn, marinated the steaks and chicken, and prepared side dishes.

  When he’d first volunteered to mow her yard she’d refused, contending she was responsible for her yard and he shouldn’t feel obligated. He’d finally won her over by admitting he was volunteering because he wanted to drive her mower. She’d relented with a shake of her head and a giggle, and he’d been mowing since.

  The first time he mowed it looked like a drunkard had been at the controls, the cut path left by the mower a meandering line across her yard. To compensate for his lack of skill, he used only a little over half the width of the deck on each pass so he didn’t miss any spots. It had taken him a couple weekends before he became comfortable with the machine, having never driven a riding mower before, and especially not a zero-turn mower that you steered with levers.

  Now that he was more proficient with the machine, he could mow much faster and with far less overlap. He could also get in closer to trees and landscaping so he didn’t have to use the string trimmer on as large an area, and had worked out the most efficient pattern to follow. What had taken nearly three hours the first time he could now do in just under two.

  Maggie had warned him that mowing a large lawn got tiresome, but he felt like he’d entered his second childhood every time he sat down in the operator’s seat. The only problem was the heat. Unknown to her, he’d addressed that issue already by ordering a sunshade for her mower, and he was just waiting for it to arrive.

  Yard work finished, he showered again and changed into clean clothes. It was nearly one before he stepped back into the kitchen.

  “You want something for lunch or do you want to have an early dinner?” Maggie asked.

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I had an orange and a couple of the boiled eggs I used to make the deviled eggs.”

  He thought a moment. “I’ll just grab a snack,” he finally said as he picked an orange from the fruit bowl and began peeling.

  “What do you think? Is it going to rain?” Maggie asked, looking at the building clouds through the kitchen window.

  “Not supposed to rain until late tonight,” he said before popping an orange slice into his mouth.

  “I hope you’re right. I haven’t seen the fireworks in years, and I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

  He sat the orange aside, held both hands up, arms outstretched with palms toward the window, and made a deep humming sound as his face became a mask of intense concentration.

  He picked up his orange and resumed peeling. “Done,” he said, using the same matter of fact tone he would have used to tell her he’d taken out the trash. “No rain until after the fireworks.”

  She snickered. “If that works, you’re in the wrong business.”

  His lips twitched into a grin. “It won’t rain, you’ll see.”

  “Uh-huh,” she grunted with a smile of her own.

  He finished his orange, and then they puttered around the house while waiting for the sun to move enough for the house to shade the patio. He’d had enough sun for today, and it was too hot to be grilling in the direct sun anyway.

  As the shadow from her house crept across her paver stone patio, Sean prepared the grill while Maggie added generous pats of butter to the corn, sprinkled them with sea salt, and rolled the ears in pieces of husk and aluminum foil. She prepared the potato salad next, dicing red potatoes, adding oil, powered soup mix and red wine vinegar before double sealing the mixture in foil.

  By the time the corn and potatoes were ready for the grill, he was distributing the hot coals. He carefully placed the two packages of potatoes and six ears of corn on the grill, then added the meat in waves, steaks first, then chicken, burgers and finally hot dogs, taking each up as they finished cooking. The potatoes and corn came off the grill with the hot dogs, and as he brought the last of the food in from the grill, Maggie had the table prepared.

  “That smells amazing,” she said, waving her hands over the plate of meat to draw the smell to her.

  “Yes, it does,” he agreed as he sat the plate on the table, placing the platter of corn and potatoes next to it.

  They settled into their traditional places as Maggie hot-fingered the potatoes open and sat an ear of corn on his plate and then hers. As he sliced a steak in half, then in half again, she divided a helping of potatoes between them. He repeated the procedure with a piece of chicken, then placed a portion from each on her plate.

  “Oh my God, that’s fantastic!” Sean groaned as he sampled the potato salad.

  She took a dainty bite of potato, her face lighting up. “Oh yeah,” she purred.

  He’d never had grilled corn before, but the slight smoky flavor from the grill gave the kernels an interesting twist on a familiar theme.

  He ate until he was stuffed, surprising himself that he ate more of the corn, potatoes, and deviled eggs than he did the meat.

  “I can’t!” he moaned when Maggie pulled a pie from the refrigerator.

  “Are you sure? It’s caramel.”

  He groaned. He had a weakness for caramel. “I can’t. Maybe after the fireworks.”

  “I made it just for you,” she said, her voice dripping teasing disappointment.

  “You want me to puke on your floor?”

  She giggled. “Okay. I’m too full to eat a piece now myself,” she said as she slid the pie back into the ‘fridge. She looked over the table. “Well, we won’t have to cook for a few days.”

  “Ugh. I may never eat again.”

  “Not even a piece of pie?”

  “Okay, maybe a small piece, when we get back. Maybe.”

  He helped her clean the table, putting leftovers in containers as she rinsed dishes and loaded the dishwasher. One nice thing about grilling is it didn’t make a mess of the kitchen.

  Once the dishwasher was whispering, he returned to the grill and scrubbed the grate before closing the vents to kill the fire. By morning it should be cool enough to be covered and tucked back up close to the house.

  The sun was just touching the tops of the trees when he threw a folded sheet into the back of his cruiser and held the front door open for her. The fireworks were scheduled to start at nine-thirty, but by leaving now they could stop and feed Marmalade, and still get to the park with plenty of time to find a place to sit before the show started.

  They drove back into town, talking about nothing and everything, and enjoying each other’s company. Maggie had been to his place enough to know where everything was, so it took only minutes for Maggie to feed Marmalade while Sean cleaned the cat’s litter box.

  With Marmalade taken care of, they returned to his car and made their way to Brunswick City Park. The closer to the park they got, the more cars there were parked on the edge of the road with groups of people clustered around them.

  “Hey, chief,” Fish said as Sean eased to a stop beside him. He bent over and looked inside the car. “Maggie.”

  “Any place for me to park in there?” Sean asked as Maggie waggled her finger at
Fish in a wave.

  Fish smiled. “I think we can find you a place. The lots are full, and we’re not letting anymore cars in, so you can leave the car right here behind mine.”

  Fish moved aside a barricade that prevented cars from entering the park. Sean crept through and stopped behind Fish’s cruiser.

  “The keys are in it if you need to move it,” Sean said as they stepped out of the car.

  He didn’t worry about anyone stealing it with Fish right there, and they’d be back to the car before he finished directing traffic.

  “It’ll be fine right where it is. Enjoy the display.”

  “Where?” Sean asked Maggie as he tucked the sheet under his arm.

  “Let’s try over by the duck pond.”

  She took him by the arm and dragged him across the grassy area that surrounded the ball fields. The outfields, along with the ground surrounding the four ball fields, were littered with people, some sitting, some standing, some lying on blankets and sheets, but all talking excitedly while waiting for the display to start.

  He could hear music blaring in the distance. The fireworks were going to be launched from the big parking lot around the recreation center, but they were heading away from that toward one of the farthest corners of the park.

  They followed a paved but dark and tree covered path, using the flashlights on their phones to light their way, until they popped out in another grassy area dotted with picnic pavilions and the pond.

  Like the other fields, there were plenty of people gathered about, but they weren’t as tightly packed as the ball fields that shared parking with the rec center.

  “The show is going to start any minute,” Maggie said as she stopped and looked back in the direction of the music. “How about here?”

  Most of the people had clustered around the pavilions and the outcropping of large rocks, so they’d have a place to sit, leaving the grassy field around the pond lightly populated enough that they found a small area where they would have a bit of privacy.

  “Looks good to me,” he said as he flipped the sheet out on the grass.

  They sat and he took her hand. They were close enough they could easily hear the patriotic music without it being deafening, yet far enough away the fireworks wouldn’t be directly overhead.

  They’d barely gotten settled when the first rocket went off with a chest thumping boom. He grinned and pulled her down to lie on their backs. The fireworks might not be directly overhead, but lying down saved them from having to crane their necks so sharply upwards.

  As the Star-Spangled Banner, God Bless the U.S.A., and The Thunderer, among others, played, the sky was rocked with thudding booms and illuminated with brilliant showers of red, blue, green and white. It had cooled considerably and Maggie snuggled in, her head resting on his arm as the heavens popped and sizzled.

  He glanced at her a couple of times, the flashes lighting her face enough for him to see the faint smile on her lips. Boston might have a more spectacular fireworks display, and of course the taped music couldn’t compete with the Boston Pops, but Brunswick had Maggie, and no fireworks display or live performance could top that. As the sky roared and thudded with the grand finale, he couldn’t remember enjoying a fireworks display more.

  When all that remained of the show was the lingering smell of burned gunpowder, the crowd began to cheer. Maggie rolled over and smiled down at him.

  “It worked. No rain.” She gave a grazing kiss. “Thank you for saving the show for everyone, and for bringing me. I had a great time.”

  He smiled back at her as they sat up. “So did I.”

  “Ready to go? There’s pie at home.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Just a small piece?”

  “Okay. A small piece.”

  They stood, popped the sheet a couple of times to remove any clinging grass, and then folded it as a team.

  “Can you stay tonight?” she asked.

  “I think that can be arranged.”

  “Good.”

  She tucked her arm inside his as they made their way back toward his car, again using their phones for light.

  They’d almost reached his car with he saw the first flickers of lightening and heard the distant rumble of thunder. He looked at the weather radar on his phone. It appeared they were going to get another light and sound show sometime in the next thirty minutes to an hour. If they hurried they might get home before the rain started.

  That suited him fine. They may even have to skip the pie. He couldn’t explain why, but he’d discovered he enjoyed making love to Maggie during a thunderstorm. There was something about the lightning and thunder outside the window that made the experience much more intense, and she seemed to feel it too. The more violent the storm, the more passionate their love making seemed to be.

  “It’s going to storm,” he said softly.

  “I saw.” She smiled at him. “We may have to save the pie until tomorrow.”

  He chuckled but said nothing. That wasn’t the first time she seemed to be able to tell what he was thinking, and he still wasn’t sure he liked her reading his mind.

  Fifteen

  Wednesday morning Sean was sitting at his desk entering his employment information into PISTOL, changing the configuration of the software as he stumbled across things that didn’t apply to Brunswick or that he wanted to work another way.

  He’d started with his personnel file because it was the thinnest, and if he screwed something up, it would be on his file, not one of his officers. He’d gotten only his name and badge number entered when he realized the requirement to assign an officer to a division and precinct was unnecessary. Brunswick was so small they didn’t need to divide their force up, and by tailoring the package to his smaller department, the software wouldn’t nag them to enter things that didn’t apply.

  Having been with the department only six months, it didn’t take him long to enter his information into the system. All the software really needed for case files was his name and badge number, but he was going to make use of the personnel module to keep track of commendations, reprimands, reviews, training, and all the other information related to his officers.

  Once he finished entering his employment information, he began inputting what little data he had for the arson case. Keying the file into the system was less about tracking the case than it was to see what other changes to the software’s configuration he wanted to make.

  Most of the software was fine with the defaults, but every now and again he found something he wanted to change. He was flipping through the configuration screens, looking for the check box to enable the linking of addresses to Google Maps, when Chips stuck his head into Sean’s office and rapped softly on the door frame.

  “Sean? I have someone here I think you want to talk to.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Sally.”

  “She’s from the Mills?”

  “Yeah. She’s a regular around here and has been for ages. If anyone knows who did it, she will.”

  “She say anything?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  He pushed back from his desk and followed Chips into the interrogation room. The moment he entered the room he recognized the woman as the one he’d chased off when they cleaned out Barns’ property.

  “Hello, Sally,” Sean said as he entered the room.

  She said nothing, staring at him with eyes full of distrust and malice. It was clear she remembered him as well.

  “I’m Chief McGhee, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.” She still said nothing. “The sooner you talk to us, the sooner you can go. Or I can have you sent over to County for…?” He paused and looked at Chips.

  “Loitering and public nuisance,” Chips supplied.

  Sean settled into the chair across from Sally, trying to appear less threatening. “You don’t want that, and I don’t want that. So just tell me what I want to know and you can go.”

  “I wasn’t doing nothin�
��,” she finally sneered.

  “My officer says otherwise.”

  “All you pigs can go fuck yourself.”

  Sean sighed in exaggerated disappointment and rose from his chair. “County it is. Put her in a cell and Mirandize her.”

  “Wait! What do you want to know?” she asked as she glared at him.

  He settled back into his chair. “Know anything about the fire where you were staying?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure? Nobody bragging about how they set fire to the buildings after we cleaned the place out? You know, to show us we can’t push them around?”

  “No. Nobody. Pisses me off they burned the place. It was a good place. Plenty of space so nobody gets in your shit or hassles you. Warm enough in the winter and cool enough in the summer. The pigs didn’t hassle us. It wasn’t any of us.”

  “You’re sure? How do you know?”

  “Why would we want to burn the place down? Except for that one time you came in there, nobody bothered us. In a few weeks, people would have forgotten and we could have moved back in. That’s the way it always is. People chase us off, then in a few weeks, they forget about us. We ain’t hurtin’ nobody there. We just want to be left alone. Now, you fucking pigs is hasslin’ us over shit. Why can’t people just leave us alone? We ain’t hurtin’ nobody.”

  “See anybody hanging around who didn’t belong? Anybody new staying there?”

  “No.”

  “Anyone talk to you or anyone else? Ask any questions?”

  “No. I told you, nobody hassled us there.”

  “How about when you’re out? Anyone talk to you then? Anyone asking questions about how many people staying there? Anything like that?”

  “No.”

  “So, you didn’t see anybody snooping around, nobody was asking questions, nobody new was staying there, but yet you say you’re sure it wasn’t any of the normal people? How do you explain that? Those fires didn’t start themselves.”

  “I don’t know! I’m just telling you what I seen.”

  “Where do you stay during the day?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Where do you spend most of your time? Is it out begging, in the mill buildings, where?”