Page 121 of Fire and Bones

“Concerning the fires.”

“There you have it.”

Deery cocked a questioning brow.

“Roy referred to buildings burning down. How did he know there was more than one? Your use of the singular was brilliant.”

Deery neither confirmed nor denied it had been intentional. “Why would they lie?”

“I have no idea.” I considered mentioning the peculiar text. Decided it wasn’t a good time. “Now what?”

“Most would have missed that,” Deery mumbled.

Omygod. Was that a compliment?

“GrammaSue is their alibi,” I said, buoyed by what I chose to interpret as positive feedback. “It’s time to visit Granny.”

“The woman is eighty-eight and most likely asleep.”

“Good point. So where do we go from here?”

“You go home.”

“What?”

Deery placed a large foot on the brake pedal, pushed the ignition button, then carefully shifted into gear. Judiciously applying pressure to the gas, he eased the Durango out onto Willard.

Knowing argument would be futile, I leaned back in my seat, formulating a plan.

The house was lit like a discount mall at Christmas.

I smelled nothing to indicate action at the stove. Remembered that Lan had Sundays off.

“Ivy?” I called out.

No response.

Dropping my purse on the sideboard, I headed for the kitchen, hoping to find the makings for a sandwich.

A pink paper had been folded in half and taped to the fridge. My name was written on the front flap.

The wording was disjointed, suggesting a message typed in great haste.

Tempe:

Sorry. Rushed. Tried to call, no answer.

Urgent assignment. Flying to West Virginia STAT. Kid in a mine shaft. Whole country losing its shit.

Hate to ask. Can you look after the chinch?

Food and instructions by cage in my bathroom. Zanetti OOT with client until Wednesday. (Plus, freaking allergies!)

Forever in your debt.

Will call if I have signal out in Deliverance Land. (If I never return, take the Blahnik pumps.)

Ivy