“So you’re friends with Stumpy?”

“Not really.” She removed the sunglasses. She’d been crying. “Henry Meeks is my brother, and I’m here to see me through this ordeal. We Blevinses always stick together.”

“Wait,” I said. “His last name is Meeks.”

“Henry is my half-brother,” she said and excused herself.

As we walked across the parking lot, my mind reeled with the implications of what my science professor had just revealed. If she and Stumpy were half brothers, then so were Stumpy and Mr. Blevins. That meant that Stumpy had an interest in the same property that Blevins had sold to Landis.

Funny, Stumpy didn’t look like someone who had recently inherited valuable property.

“That was interesting,” I said as we climbed into Abner’s Range Rover.

“Downright peculiar,” Abner agreed. “But it does make your job easier.”

“How so?”

“There’s no reason for you to interview the band teacher. I just found out all I needed to know.”

“Great. Now, I can go after Loach.”

“No, leave Loach to the—“

“Experts. I know.”

Luckily, the US Government and the United States Navy both thought I was an expert at gathering intelligence.

I had the service medal to prove it.

7

“You need to borrow my what?” Cedar asked me a few hours later.

We were on the courthouse green, where volunteers were setting up tents for the YamFest vendor fair. My mom had reserved three booths for the fair—one for her vet practice, one for Lamar’s business, and one for the Allegheny County Historical Society. The Society had launched a petition against the Tin City development, and they were hoping to collect hundreds of signatures to stop the re-interment of the cemetery.

“Your nose.”

Cedar clapped a hand over her face. “No way.”

“Not your nose, you’re N.O.S.E. Your device for detecting smells. I need it to gather evidence against Eugene Loach.”

“Just teasing.” She said. “I knew what you meant. But seriously? You’ve got Loach on the brain.”

“What if I told you that he is a serial arsonist and that I need to find traces of alkali metals on his person to prove it?”

“Alkali? That’s like sodium and lithium.”

“And potassium, rubidium, cesium, except for francium.”

“Which hardly exists on Earth. I know. So you’re looking for all of them?”

“Sodium, definitely. Maybe others. The chemicals in the school lab.”

“The one’s that were stolen?”

“Bingo.”

“You think Eugene Loach stole them?”

“Bingo.”

“And you think Eugene Loach is suddenly smart enough to use alkali metals without blowing himself up?” she asked. “If you say bingo, I’m never kissing you again.”

“Bin—“

“Boone!”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself. No, Loach isn’t smart enough. Stumpy admitted that he himself stole the chemicals and left them for someone else to pick up.”

“And based on this crackpot theory, you’d like to borrow my research experiment, a project that I’ve worked on for months, for hundreds of hours developing the software, the N.O.S.E device, calibrating data, and crunching numbers?”

“Yes?

“No.”

“No?”

“No. Absolutely not. You’re not holding it up to a redneck version of Bigfoot and risk getting it crushed. Besides, it’s too unwieldy. I use a shopping cart to transport it.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I do have another idea.”

“Oh?”

She whistled. “Chigger! Here, boy!”

The beagle bounded out of her VW, which was parked on the green near the stature of General Allegheny. He raced across the grass, zigzagging through the rows of metal folding chairs, until he reached us.

“Here,” Cedar said, rubbing the dog’s ears, “is your answer.”

“Chigger?”

“Hello? Five million scent receptors and trained by US Customs to detect bombs.”

“Chigger flunked out of bomb sniffing school.”

“Only because he was too aggressive around men,” she said. “Don’t besmirch the name of my dog.”

“Besmirch?”

“Didn’t you get the memo? Girls with extensive vocabularies are hot.”

Okay, what signal was she sending? Play it cool? Be open and honest with my feelings? Just blurt it out? Yeah, that had worked so well before. “Cedar, about the other night. When I said…that thing.”

“What about the other night?” she said with a straight face.

So that’s how we’re going to play it? At least she was still speaking to me, instead of giving me the heave-ho.

“Chigger will be great,” I said, changing the subject. “Thanks for the offer. Really. I’ll be glad to have him.”

“You should act quickly, then, Bonne-san.” Luigi walked up to the booth, wearing oversized earphones. He carried an object shaped like a tuning fork in one hand and an ergonomic mouse in the other. “I heard your discussion and thought that I could aid you.”

“You heard us?” I said. “Where were you?”

“At Red Fox Java enjoying an iced milk and tea.” He raised the tuning fork. “I listened to you with this.”

“What is this, exactly?” Cedar asked.

“It’s his research project.”

“Hai, hai,” Luigi said. “A small part of it. It allows me to isolate conversations from hundreds of meters away. I am awesome at dropping eaves.”

“Eavesdropping” I said. “Wait, I have an idea.” I pointed to the corner were Eugene Loach had gathered with Atamasco Company for the parade. “Can you hear those guys talking?”

Luigi pushed his glasses up with his middle finger. “Just like standing next to them.”

“Perfect!” I said. “Okay, here’s the plan.”

8

The YamFest parade was a big deal. Over two hundred organizations, clubs, businesses, departments, and schools marched the route. There were so many people involved, I wondered how there was anyone left in town to watch it. The streets of Galax were virtually deserted, so Cedar and I had no trouble running parallel with the parade.

We trotted at first, and the beagle pulled Cedar along. We lengthened our strides and turned on Fremont to cross ahead of the parade. As we crossed on the WALK sign, the dog padded along, his attention focused on the yummy smells that decorated the sidewalks.

The Atamasco VFW was number three in line for the parade, while the Allegheny house was near the end, number one hundred seventy three. As we ran with Chigger to catch up with the Atamasco firefighters, we passed several vollies from my own firehouse.

“Time to get into position,” I told Cedar. “You and Chigger stay here. Wait for Luigi’s order.”

“Yes sir!” She saluted as Chigger pulled on the leash. He wanted to keep running. “Behave!”

“He’ll do great!”

“I meant you, not the dog!”

Turning the corner of Third and Palmetto, the Atamasco VFW, came into view. There were nineteen firefighters in brown and yellow turnouts lead by the fire captain’s yellow truck. The parade led them down the rivulet of Third Street to the wide channels of downtown.

The parade turned the corner onto Palmetto Street. The tanker truck sounded its siren. On the corner of Second Street, we passed the public library building and neared the green.

“Luigi,” I said into my mic, “tell Cedar to cross the street.”

Through the ear bud Luigi had given us, I heard him give the order.

Cedar acknowledged it.

I blew my nose into my handkerchief.

It was the signal.

“Let’s go, Chigger,” Cedar said, her voice coming into my ear bud.

Minutes later, Eugene Loach’s company marched past the public library. Loach was turned waving to the crowd when Cedar crashed into his hip, knocking him flat on the pavement.

Cedar dropped knees-first on top of Eugene, pinning him to the ground.

“Get off me!” Eugene bellowed. “You crazy bitch!”

“Sorry,” Cedar said, “trying to catch my dog. Chigger!”

“Lucky you’re a girl,” he said. “Or there’d be some ass kicking right here.”