Night Smoke

  * * *

  Compelled by a nagging sense of unrest, like an itch between his shoulder blades, Ry drove out to Natalie’s plant. He’d done a great deal of driving around since he left the station.

  It was after ten o’clock now, moonless, windless.

  He sat in his car, slumped behind the wheel, and tried not to think of her.

  Of course, he thought of her.

  She was probably wondering where he was, he figured. She’d assume he’d gotten a call. She’d wait up. Guilt worked at him again. It was his least favorite emotion. It wasn’t right to be inconsiderate, to worry her just because he’d had a scare.

  And maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe he was just hung up. A man could get hung up on a woman without wanting to slit his throat when she walked away. Couldn’t he?

  Disgusted, Ry reached for his car phone. The least he could do was call and tell her he was busy. It wasn’t like checking in, he assured himself. It was just being polite.

  And since when had he worried about manners?

  Cursing, he began to dial.

  But the itch came back. Slowly, his eyes scanning the dark, he replaced the phone. Had he heard something? A check of his watch told him the patrol he’d assigned would make their run by in another ten minutes.

  No harm, he decided, in taking a look around himself on foot in the meantime.

  He eased his door open and slipped out. He could hear nothing now but the faint swish of traffic two blocks away. Cautious, he reached back in the car for his flashlight, but he didn’t turn it on.

  Not yet, he thought. His eyes were accustomed enough to the dark for him to see where he was going.

  Instinct had him heading silently around the back.

  He’d already cased the plant himself, noting where the exits were located, the security, the fire doors. He’d make a circle, check each door and window on the main level himself.

  He heard it again, the scrape of a foot over gravel. Ry shifted the flashlight in his hand, holding it like a weapon now as he moved closer. Tensed, ready, he slipped through the shadows. If it was the security guard, Ry knew, he was about to give the man the fright of his life. Otherwise …

  A giggle. Faint and delighted. The slow, moaning whine of a metal door moving on its hinges.

  Ry flashed on his light, and spotlighted Clarence Jacoby.

  “How’s it going, Clarence?” Ry grinned as the man blinked against the glare. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Who’s that?” Clarence’s voice raced up a register. “Who’s that?”

  “Hey, I’m hurt.” Ry lowered the light out of Clarence’s eyes and stepped closer. “Don’t you recognize your old pal?”

  Squinting, Clarence separated the man from the shadows. In a moment, his baffled face exploded in a wide grin. “Piasecki. Hey, Ry Piasecki. How’s it going? You’re Inspector now, right? I hear you’re an inspector now.”

  “That’s right. I’ve been looking for you, Clarence.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Shyly Clarence dipped his head. “How come?”

  “I put out that little campfire you started the other night. You must be losing your touch, Clarence.”

  “Oh, hey …” Still grinning, Clarence spread his arms out. “I don’t know nothing about that. You remember when we got burned, Piasecki? Hell of a night, wasn’t it? That dragon was really big. Almost ate us up.”

  “I remember.”

  Clarence moistened his lips. “Scared you bad, too. I heard the nurses talking in the burn ward about the nightmares.”

  “I had a few of them.”

  “And you don’t fight fire no more, do you? Don’t want to slay the dragon now, do you?”

  “I like squashing little bugs like you better.” Ry swung his light down, shone it on the gas cans at Clarence’s feet. “What do you know, Clarence? You still use premium grade, too.”

  “I didn’t do nothing.” Clarence whirled to make a dash into the dark. Even as Ry leapt forward, the man jerked back, as if on a string.

  Staggered, Ry stared at the dark-clad arms that seemed to shoot straight out from the building’s wall and wrap around Clarence’s neck.

  Then it was a shadow flowing out of nothing. Then it was a man flowing out of the shadow.

  “I don’t believe the inspector was finished talking to you, Clarence.” Nemesis kept one arm hooked around Clarence’s neck as he faced Ry. “Were you, Inspector?”

  “No, I wasn’t.” Ry let out a long breath. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “It’s a ghost. A ghost’s got me.” Clarence’s eyes turned up, white, and he fainted dead away.

  “I imagine you could have handled him on your own.” Nemesis passed the limp body to Ry, waiting until Ry had hefted Clarence over his shoulder.

  “I appreciate it, anyway.”

  There was a quick flash of teeth as Nemesis smiled. “I like your style, Inspector.”

  “Same goes. You want to explain that little trick when you came out of the wall?” Ry began, but he was talking to air before the sentence was finished. “Not bad,” he muttered, and was shaking his head as he carted Clarence to the car. “Not bad at all.”

  * * *

  The phone awakened Natalie from where she’d dozed off on the couch. Groggy, she stumbled toward it, trying to read the time on her watch.

  “Yes, hello?”

  “It’s Ry.”

  “Oh.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “It’s after one. I was—”

  “Sorry to wake you.”

  “No, it’s not that. I just—”

  “We’ve got him.”

  “What?” Her irritation that he had yet to let her finish a sentence sharpened the word.

  “Clarence. I picked him up tonight. I thought you’d want to know.”

  Now her head was reeling. “Yes, of course. That’s wonderful. But when—?”

  “I’m tied up here, Natalie. I’ll get back to you when I can.”

  “All right, but—” She took the receiver away from her ear and glared at the dial tone. “Congratulations, Inspector,” she muttered, and hung up.

  With her hands on her hips, she took several deep breaths to calm herself, and to clear her head.

  She’d been worried sick. Her own fault, she admitted. Ry was certainly under no obligation to come to her after work, or to call. Even if he had been doing just that for days. And even if she had waited by the phone for hours until simple fatigue spared her the continued humiliation.

  Put that aside, she ordered herself. The important matter here was that Clarence Jacoby was in custody. There would be no more fires—no more incidents.

  And in the morning, she promised herself as she stomped bad-temperedly off to the bedroom, she’d track Ry down and get the whole story.

  In the meantime, she thought as she slipped out of her robe, all she had to do was teach herself to sleep alone again.

  Even as she settled onto the pillow, she knew it was going to be a very long night.

  Chapter 9

  Since there seemed little point in going home after he’d finished at the police station, Ry dropped down on the sagging sofa in his office and caught three hours’ sleep before the sirens awakened him.

  Following old habit, his feet hit the floor before he remembered he didn’t have to answer the bell any longer. Years of training would have allowed him to simply roll over and go back to sleep. Instead, he staggered, bleary-eyed, toward the coffeepot, measuring, flipping switches. His only goal at the moment was to take a giant mug of coffee to the showers with him, and to stay there for an hour.

  He lit a cigarette, scowling at the pot as it filled, drop by stingy drop.

  The brisk knock on his door only made his scowl deepen. Turning, he aimed his bad temper at Natalie.

  “Your secretary isn’t in.”

  “Too early,” he mumbled, and rubbed a hand over his face. Why in hell did she always have to look so perfect? “Go away, Natalie. I’m not a
wake yet.”

  “I won’t go away.” Struggling not to be hurt, she set her briefcase down, put her hands on her hips. Obviously, she told herself, he’d had little or no sleep. She’d be patient. “Ry, I need to know what happened last night, so I can plan what steps need to be taken.”

  “I told you what happened.”

  “You weren’t very generous with details.”

  Muttering, he snatched up a mug and poured the miserly half cup that had brewed. “We got your torch. He’s in custody. He won’t be lighting any fires for a while.”

  Patience, Natalie reminded herself and took a seat. “Clarence Jacoby?”

  “Yeah.” He looked at her. What choice did he have? She was there, stunning and polished and perfect. “Why don’t you go to work, let me pull it together here? I’ll have a report for you.”

  Nerves jittered up her spine, and down again. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m tired,” he snapped. “I can’t get a decent cup of coffee, and I need a shower. And I want you to stop breathing down my neck.”

  Surprise registered first, then retreated behind hurt. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice cool and stiff, as she rose. “I was concerned about what happened last night. And I wanted to make sure you were all right. Since I can see that you are fine …” She picked up her briefcase. “And since you haven’t had time to put your report together, I’ll get out of your way.”

  He swore, dragging a hand through his hair. “Natalie, sit down. Please,” he added, when she just stood aloofly in the doorway. “I’m sorry. I’m feeling a little raw this morning, and you made the mistake of being the first person in the line of fire.”

  “I was worried about you.” She said it quietly, but didn’t step back into the room.

  “I’m fine.” Turning away, he topped off his coffee. “Want some of this?”

  “No. I should have waited for you to contact me. I realize that.” It was, she thought, like suddenly walking on eggshells. One night apart shouldn’t make them so awkward with each other.

  “If you had, I’d have been worried about you.” He managed a smile. It was low, he decided, real low, to lash out at her because all at once he was deathly afraid of where they were heading. “Sit down. I’ll give you the highlights.”

  “All right.”

  While she did, he walked around his desk and kicked back in his chair. “I had an itch, a hunch. Whatever. I decided to take a run by your plant—take a look around, check the security myself.” He blew out a stream of smoke, smiled through it. “Somebody else had the same idea.”

  “Clarence.”

  “Yeah, he was there. It was a real party. He’d knocked out the alarm. Had himself a full set of keys to the rear door.”

  “Keys.” Eyes sharpening, Natalie leaned forward.

  “That’s right. Shiny new copies. The cops have them now. There wouldn’t have been any sign of break-in. He also had a couple of gallons of high-test gas, a few dozen matchbooks. So we started to have a little conversation. I guess Clarence didn’t like the way it was going, and he made a break for it.”

  Ry paused, drawing in smoke, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he murmured. “I’m still not sure I did see it.”

  “What?” Impatient, Natalie rapped a hand on his desk. “Did you chase him?”

  “Didn’t have to. Your pal took care of it.”

  “My pal?” Baffled she sat back again. “What pal?”

  “Nemesis.”

  Her eyes went wide and stunned. “You saw him? He was there?”

  “Yes and no. Or no and yes. I’m not sure which. He came out of the wall,” Ry said, half to himself. “He came out of the damn wall, like smoke. He wasn’t there, then he was. Then he wasn’t.”

  Natalie cocked a brow. “Ry, I really think you need some sleep.”

  “No question about that.” Rubbing the back of his stiff neck, he blew out a breath. “But that’s how it went. He came out of the wall. First his arms. I was standing a foot away, and I saw arms come out of the wall and grab Clarence. Then he was just there—Nemesis. Clarence took one look at him and fainted.” Enjoying the memory, Ry grinned. “Folded up like a deck chair. So Nemesis hands him over to me and I haul him over my shoulder. Then he’s gone.”

  “Clarence?”

  “Nemesis. Keep up.”

  She blinked, trying to. “He—Nemesis—just left?”

  “He just went. Back into the wall, into the air.” He flicked his fingers to demonstrate. “I don’t know. I probably stood there for five minutes with my mouth hanging open before I carried Clarence to the truck.”

  Brow knit, Natalie spoke slowly, carefully. “You’re telling me the man disappeared. In front of your eyes. Just vanished?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

  “Ry,” she said, still patient. “That’s not possible.”

  “I was there,” he reminded her. “You weren’t. Clarence came to and started babbling about ghosts. He was so spooked he tried to jump out of the car while I was driving.” Ry sipped at his coffee. “I had to knock him out.”

  “You … you knocked him out.”

  It was another memory he couldn’t help but relish. One short punch to that moon-shaped jaw. “He was better off. Anyway, he’s in custody now. He’s not talking, but I’m going to interview him in a couple hours and see if we can change that.”

  She sat silently for a moment, trying to absorb it all, and sort it out. The business with Nemesis was fascinating, and not so difficult to explain. It had been dark. Ry was a trained observer, but even he could make a mistake in the dark. People didn’t just vanish.

  Rather than argue with him about it, she focused on Clarence Jacoby. “He hasn’t said why, then? If he was hired, or by whom?”

  “Right now he’s claiming he was just out for a walk.”

  “With several gallons of gasoline?”

  “Oh, he says I must have brought the gas with me. I’m framing him because I got burned saving his worthless life.”

  Insulted, Natalie lunged to her feet. “No one believes that.”

  Her instant defense amused and touched him. “No, Legs, nobody’s buying it. We’ve got him cold on this one, and it shouldn’t take long for the cops to tie him in with the other fires. Once Clarence realizes he’s looking at a long stretch, he’s likely to sing a different tune. Nobody likes to go down alone.”

  Natalie nodded. She didn’t believe in honor among thieves. “If and when he does name someone, I’ll need to know right away. I’m limited as to the steps I can take in the meantime.”

  Ry rapped his fingers on the desk. He didn’t like the possibility that someone in her organization, someone who might be close to her, could be behind the fires. “If Clarence points the finger at one of your people, the cops take the steps. And they’re going to be a lot tougher on them than just firing them or taking away their dental plan.”

  “I’m aware of that. I’m also aware that even though the man who held the match has been caught and my property is safe, it’s not over.” But the tension that had knotted her shoulders was smoothing away. “I appreciate you looking out for what’s mine, Inspector.”

  “That’s what your tax dollars are for.” He studied her over the rim of his cup. “I missed being with you last night,” he said, before he could stop himself.

  Her lips curved slowly. “Good. Because I missed being with you. We could make up for it tonight. Celebrate seeing my tax dollars at work.”

  “Yeah.” If he was sinking, Ry thought, he just didn’t have the energy to fight going under for the third time. “Why don’t we do that?”

  “I’ll let you get that shower.” She bent down for her briefcase. “Will you let me know what happens when you talk to Clarence?”

  “Sure. I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’m going to plan on getting home early,” she said as she headed for the door.

  “Good plan,” he murmured when the door shut behi
nd her. Third time, hell, he thought. He’d drowned days ago, and hadn’t even noticed.

  * * *

  Natalie arrived at work with a spring in her step, and called a staff meeting. By ten she was seated at the head of the table in the boardroom, her department heads lining both sides of the polished mahogany.

  “I’m pleased to announce that the national grand opening of Lady’s Choice will remain, as scheduled, for this coming Saturday.”

  As expected, there were polite applause and congratulatory murmurs.

  “I’d like to take this opportunity,” she continued, “to thank you all for your hard work and dedication. Launching a new company of this size takes teamwork, long hours, and constant innovation. I’m grateful to all of you for giving me your best. I particularly appreciate all of your help in the past couple of weeks, when the company faced such unexpected difficulties.”

  She waited until the murmurs about the fires had died down.

  “I’m aware that our budget is stretched, but I’m also aware that we wouldn’t be on schedule without the extra effort each one of you, and your staff, have given. Therefore, Lady’s Choice is pleased to present bonuses to each and every employee on the first of next month.”

  This announcement was greeted with a great deal of enthusiasm. Only Deirdre winced and rolled her eyes. Natalie flashed a grin at her that held more pleasure than apology.

  “We still have a great deal of work ahead of us,” Natalie went on. “I’m sure Deirdre will tell you that I’ve given her an enormous headache, rather than a bonus.” Natalie waited for the laughter to subside. “I have faith in her, and in Lady’s Choice warranting it. In addition …” She paused, the smile still in place, her gaze sweeping from face to face. “I want to ease everyone’s mind. Last night the arsonist was apprehended. He’s now in police custody.”

  There was applause, a barrage of questions. Natalie sat with her hands folded on the table, watching for, waiting for, some sign that would tell her if one of the people sitting with her had begun to sweat.

  “I don’t have all the details,” she said, holding up a hand for quiet. “Only that Inspector Piasecki apprehended the man outside our plant. I expect a full report within forty-eight hours. In the meantime, we can all thank the diligence of the fire and police departments, and get on with our jobs.”

  “Was there a fire at the plant?” Donald wanted to know. “Was anything damaged?”

  “No. I do know that the suspect was caught before he entered the building.”

  “Are they sure it’s the same one who started the fires at the warehouse and the flagship?” Brow furrowed, Melvin tugged at his bow tie.

  Natalie smiled. “As a sister of a police captain, I’m certain the authorities won’t make a statement like that until they have absolute proof. But that’s the way it looks.”

  “Who is he?” Donald demanded. “Why did he do it?”

  “Again, I don’t have all the details. He’s a known arsonist. A professional, I believe. I’m sure the motive will come to light before too long.”

  * * *

  Ry wasn’t nearly as certain. By noon, he’d been with Jacoby for an hour, covering the same ground. The interrogation room was typically dull. Beige walls, beige linoleum, the wide mirror that everyone knew was two-way glass. He sat on a rock-hard chair, leaning against the single table, smoking lazily, while Clarence