The bell rang to end class. Dewayne was one of the first out the door. He gave me the finger as a parting gift.

“What was that all about?” Cedar said.

“Unfinished business.” The pager clipped to my belt went off. “Hang on a sec.”

A message from dispatch: A fire on the other side of the county near Black Oak Shelter, a United States government-owned stretch of swampland and scrub pines that had been used for munitions testing during the second World War, Korea, and Vietnam. If I weren’t on suspension, I would be running out the door. Now, I had to face the music, and the DJ was pissed.

“Don’t blow me off, Boone,” Cedar said. “What the hell was that all about?”

“Dewayne’s full of shit,” I said. “You know he’s just running his mouth.”

“That’s not the that I meant.” She pointed at Brit and Heather walking down the hallway. “That’s the that I meant!”

“Oh,” I said. “That.”

“Yes, them!”

“Is it them or that?”

She stepped toward me, seething. “Them! The hootchies!”

“That them means nothing to me.”

She punched my chest. “Then why were you flirting with them, jerk face?”

“They were flirting with me.”

“Same thing!”

“Not really.”

“Listen, Boone Childress.” She shook a finger under my nose. “When you’re dating me, you’re dating just me, not flirting with a couple of hootchies. Got that?”

“Who says we’re dating?”

“You did,” Cedar said, “when you kissed me on the lake.”

“Technically, I kissed you on the lips.”

“Don’t try to charm me with semantics, mister. And no flashing those cute dimples. I’m immune to it.”

“That’s good. I’d hate to think that I’d coerced you into not being mad at me, since I believe that males and females should be equal in any relationship, and in the future, I’ll make sure to ask your permission before—“

“Just shut up.” She threw her arms around my neck. “And kiss me again.”

I lifted her until she stood on tiptoes, then leaned in, my lips lightly brushing hers.

The kiss was as short as it was sweet. When I opened my eyes, Cedar was staring up at me.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“What have you got in mind?”

“Cedar-san!” Luigi said. “Are you ready to go?”

“Damn,” she whispered. “I forgot.”

“Forgot what?” I asked.

“Cedar has a lunch date with me,” Luigi said. “We are ordering food.”

I cocked an eyebrow at Cedar, as if to say WTF?

“It’s not a date,” she said. “Just helping him with conversational English.”

“You come along, too.” Luigi shook my shoulder. “We will make it a threesome.”

“A what?” Cedar cried.

“That one definitely gained something in translation.” I steered Luigi out of harm’s way. “How about lunch at Red Fox Java? My treat. I—“

I felt myself space out. Cedar was saying something, but my mind was replaying what Dewayne said in lab.

Risk your life for some old Mexican. The identity of the Nagswood fire victim hadn’t been released. “How did he know her race?” I wondered.

“What?” Cedar said. “Who is he?”

“Dewayne Loach. In class he asked me why I would risk my life for some old Mexican. How did he know the victim was Mexican?”

Cedar gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh my god. That means—“

“His brother knew she was in the house.” I took out my cell. “Meet you guys at the coffee house. I’ve got a few calls to make.”

2

“They didn’t believe you?” Cedar spooned Italian dressing onto her hoagie. “None of them?”

The afternoon sun shone down on Red Fox Java’s outdoor patio. The small coffee house was in a red brick building across from the Allegheny County Courthouse. Weekdays, the patio was a favorite gathering place for courthouse employees. Weekends, it was the mecca for band geeks and goth kids drinking the only double espressos to be had in town.

I sat with Luigi and Cedar. We were joined by Cedar’s beagle, Chigger, who lay under the table with his head resting on Cedar’s sneakers.

“Not a single, solitary word.” I summarizing my phone conversations. “Hoyt said his office was too busy to talk, much less go chasing shadows. Lamar said I have Eugene Loach on the brain.”

“What about your grandfather?” Luigi pushed his backup glasses up on his nose. They were thick plastic and rectangular. No wonder he didn’t wear them. “Did he doubt your story?”

“Couldn’t get in touch with him, either. His cell goes straight to voicemail. He’s out of touch. I don’t know if it’s intentional or not. He may be working behind the scenes, or he may be in a hammock on his sleeping porch.”

“Let’s assume he’s working behind the scenes.” Cedar rewarded Chigger with a bite of ham. “What would he be working on?”

“The case.”

“Well, yes, the case,” she said. “What do you know, exactly?”

“I know this,” I said. “We have three suspicious fires. The first was in Duck. Then the Tin City fire, where Stumpy found a finger. The third was Nagswood, where the woman was killed. All three were abandoned farm houses.”

“Do you think the events are related in some way?” Luigi said.

“I think there’s a serial arsonist on the loose,” I said. “And I want to catch him.”

“So what’s next?” Cedar said through a bite of her sub.

Good question. What was next? With the cops stonewalling me, all I could do was cool my jets until something broke. “I don’t know. Wait? The gears are turning without me, and if I interfere, I’ll never make it back on the Allegheny VFD. Which leaves me to do what? Help with your research project?”

“Music to my ears.” Cedar launched into a long, involved explanation of her project. Something to do with her beagle, circuit boards, terrorists, luggage, and a device that worked like a microphone for the nose.

The details were lost on me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t understand the concept of Cedar’s project, but my attention was drawn to the courthouse green. A crew of county workers was raising a cherry picker up to a streetlight. They were hanging flags for YamFest, the festival that Allegheny County held every year to celebrate itself.

“YamFest,” I said. “Isn’t that the same weekend as the Olympiad?”

“You mean the Olympiad you’re supposed to be helping me with?” Cedar said.

“Boone-san has problems with his ear holes.” Luigi dropped fries into his mouth. Two of them missed and fell to the ground.

Chigger wolfed them down before Cedar could stop him.

“Bad boy!" she said. "French-fries give you gas.”

“Me?” I said. “I tolerate potatoes just fine.”

“I meant the dog.” Cedar patted her leg, and Chigger returned to his spot. “But yes, as a matter of a fact, you are a bad boy.”

I looked at Luigi with my arms raised, as if to say, Who? Me?

“Don’t try to play it off, Boone. You’re a really smart guy, but you’ve got the attention span of a gnat. Focus!”

She smacked my forehead. Her palm made a huge pop.

I lolled my head and pretended to be hurt.

Cedar blushed. She covered her mouth. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

I grinned. “Psyche!”

Pop!

Cedar smacked me again.

“Ow!” I grabbed my sprained neck. “That stung!”

“Serves you right, jerk face.”

I pressed my iced tea on my neck. “Is it swelling? I think it’s swelling.”

“No, it's not.” Cedar pulled the glass away. “It’s fine. Stop being such a wuss.”

Under the table Chigger let out a short growl. I watched him stand, his tail stuck straight out. He jumped over our feet, then bounded out to the sidewalk. He sniffed the air, turned, and sniffed again. His back arched, and he pointed toward at the courthouse green.

“What’s he doing?” I asked.