Only one man in town could afford that suit. My suspicion was confirmed with the back of man’s head appeared, a coffered mop of hair trimmed right at the top of the collar.

But the hair was too silver.

His body was too thin and too short.

It wasn’t Trey Landis.

It was his father.

“Goddamn.”

The words escaped my lips before I could stop them.

Ahead, G.D. Landis stopped in his tracks. His head turned side to side as he listened.

“Idiot sheriff,” he murmured as he checked his watch. “The introduction wasn’t supposed to be for another two minutes. You’ve ruined my entrance.”

He stalked down the hallway and to the front door. He pulled a wheelchair out of a darkened alcove, sat down, then drove it to the door. Light flooded the building, and G.D. Landis rolled his electric wheelchair toward the handicapped ramp. If his head turned at that moment, he would have seen the peculiar sight of three college students and an elderly man in with long hair and a straggly beard all hunkered behind a potted plant.

“Mercer’s the arsonist!” I whispered after the door had closed and we were in shadow again. “He’s been working for Landis! The old man has been faking it all along!”

“I knew it!” Cedar said softly.

Luigi shrugged. “I did not.”

“Me, neither,” Abner added. “What’re they up to?”

“They’re going to destroy evidence of the cemetery,” I whispered. "And burn the Historical Society, too.”

“How are we going to stop them?” Cedar asked.

“Y’all three, take Landis. He’s announcing Miss Allegheny in a couple minutes. Keep an eye on him. I’ll try to record Mercer in the act of starting a fire.” I patted my pockets. “Where’s my cellphone?”

“I got a camera,” Cedar said.

“Let me borrow it?”

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

“It’s dangerous.”

“It’s my camera.”

Upstairs, there was a crash and the sound of cursing. Clearly, Mercer was a better arsonist than burglar.

“We’ll follow Landis.” Abner snagged Luigi by the sleeve. “You two take Mercer. Be careful! No telling what a cocky bastard like that is capable of.”

A few seconds later, the door opened, and they were outside. When the light faded again, Cedar and I dashed up the stairs.

We followed the sounds to the office of the Registrar. I had passed by it several times in the past. It was an old fashioned kind of door: Patterned glass with the names of the occupants hand-lettered in gold and black.

Before, the door had always been closed.

Now it stood ajar.

I bent down to one knee, pressed against the wall. With Cedar literally breathing down my neck, I peeked inside.

The front office was dim.

A receptionist counter separated it from three offices behind it. The middle door stood open, and light shone from the high open window. Mercer stood in front of the window, his body a hunched silhouette, as he flipped through the open drawer of a filing cabinet.

I crept in and stayed low.

Cedar followed me on hands and knees.

“Camera,” I whispered.

Cedar pulled it from a pocket then set the flash function to off. She set it in my palm and gave me the thumbs up.

Slowly, I worked my way down the counter.

The light behind Mercer made it hard to get a good shot. The deputy’s face was hidden in shadow.

I needed a better angle.

Hurry up! Cedar pantomimed to me.

I am! I mimed back.

I kept moving, the muscles in my thighs on fire. I wanted desperately to stand up, but doing so would alert Mercer. Near the copier at the end of the corner, I finally got the shot.

Mercer turned into the light. He pulled a packet of materials out of the drawer. I hit record on the video function and watched as the deputy stuffed the material into a manila folder. He slammed the drawer shut, then pulled the office door closed behind him.

I ducked and waved for Cedar to do the same.

Mercer crossed into the dim light and reached for the outer door as the camera reached its storage capacity and sounded a warning chime.

Mercer turned and saw Cedar hunched up against the reception counter, arms wrapped around her knees.

“Hi,” Cedar said. “Can you point me to the ladies room?”

“Ladies room, my ass.” Mercer pulled his gun. “Now what am I going to do with you, little miss nosey butt?”

Cedar puckered up. “Give me some sugar?”

The tips of Mercer’s lips curled up. “I got a better idea.”

14

Mercer shoved a plastic vial into Cedar’s hand. He tore strips of duct tape from the roll and wrapped them around her hand so that she couldn’t release the vial. Then he taped the hand to Cedar’s thigh.

I stayed behind the copier. It had been my hiding spot from the instant that Mercer had seen Cedar. I hid there the whole time that the deputy had Cedar up. It killed me to hold back, but I had to wait for an opening.

Never open fire when you’re outgunned.

Through the walls, I could hear Landis’ muffled voice on the PA system, announcing the runners up for Miss Allegheny.

Nervously, I stroked my chin and tapped my chest. The tips of my fingers touched the chest plate of Luigi’s listening device.

That’s it, I thought.

I detached the listening fork from the slot on the plate, pushed one of the buttons, and pointed the receptor at Mercer. The sound of his breathing filled the buds in my ears.

I jerked back, almost hitting the wall behind me.

Whew. The sound was coming in loud and clear. I hit another button on the device and waited.

“You know what that is, girl?” Mercer said.

Cedar shook her head, no, and I clicked a third button, directing my signal to override the wireless microphone that Landis was using on stage.

“Of course you don’t,” Mercer said. “Because you’ve never seen anything like it before. Invented it myself. It’s a sodium fuse, like the ones I used to burn down those houses for Landis. Want to know how it works?”

I eased an ear bud off and listened to the sound of the muffled voice on the PA.

Mercer’s voice was being piped to the whole town.

The crowd stopped applauding to listen.

“The sodium sits at the bottom of the plastic tube,” Mercer explained to Cedar. “The mineral oil’s in the middle. The water’s on top. All I do is pull this cork out of a little hole in the middle here, like this, and the oil drips out. When it’s gone, the water comes down, and boom! No more nosey little bitch.”

“Halt!” I stood up and pointed the listening fork at myself. “Deputy Mercer, I’m placing you under citizen’s arrest for arson, murder, and trying to blow up my girlfriend.”

“Citizen’s arrest?” Mercer pulled his gun. “Not in this lifetime. Tell you what, you sit right down next to your girl. She’s got something to show you. Believe me, boy, it burns a lot hotter than kerosene and barn straw.”

Mercer stepped out into the hallway. He slammed the door, and I heard the key turn in the lock.

I expected to hear footsteps, but instead, Mercer’s shadow crossed the space under the door.

He was making a run for it.

I yanked the duct tape off Cedar’s mouth. “You okay?”

“Stop up the hole! In the tube! Stopper it!”

The oil had almost dripped out of the plastic tube.

Only an eight of an inch remained.

I slapped a finger over the hole Mercer had uncovered. The water sloshed above the thin line of oil, coming perilously close to the sodium below.

“Hold it steady,” Cedar warned me. “Tilt that thing, and I lose my hand.”

“You’ll use a lot more than that.”

“Sodium’s not that reactive, Boone.”

“This isn’t sodium. It's cesium. Mercer doesn’t know his chemicals.”

“Wait! Cesium can—“

“Blow us to smithereens. Unless we find a way to get rid of all of the water first.”