Alien Heat (14 page)

Arthur shrugged here.

Yes, she was coming to their hotel. But it was going to be a surprise. He was not to tell anybody about it.

Arthur picked at a hole in the bedspread. “I asked her to please come now, that night. She said could I hang on another day or two, and I said okay.”

“Anything else?” David asked.

Arthur shook his head.

“You've talked to her before, haven't you?”

“No, sir. Not since she went away.”

“You sure? Nobody's going to be mad at you.”

“No, sir. Just that night. I should have told her to come home.”

“Do you know where she was? Where she was staying?”

Arthur shook his head.

“Any background noises?”

“She said she was near a place that had great pancakes and hash browns. But then she laughed, so maybe she was kidding.”

“Do you think she was kidding?”

“No, sir. She really does like pancakes. Did, I mean.”

David put a hand on the boy's shoulder. He glanced at Teddy Blake. “Jenks. He know where Arthur is?”

“Yeah, but he ain't happy about it.” She punched Arthur in the shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. The worst is over, and Detective Silver didn't tear your head off.” She looked at David. “Thanks a whole lot for stopping by. Arthur was scared to come to your office.”

“I
was
not.” Arthur's voice cracked, ever changing.

“No trouble,” David said, though it was.

Teddy wiped chocolate from her hands on the bedspread. “Come on, Arthur, we'll miss our bus.”

David frowned. “This isn't the part of town to be taking buses.”

“We'll be okay.”

“I'll drop you.”

Arthur gave Teddy the anxious look of a boy who was often denied. She winked at him and shook her head at David.

“No, thanks.”

Something was up, between them.

“I insist.”

Teddy's smile faded. “What good's that do you? I appreciate your trouble, Detective, but Arthur and I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“It's no big deal. Arthur saw one of those carnival things and thought we might ride some rides, eat popcorn and greasy pork sandwiches. Maybe get our fortunes told.” She winked at David.

He thought suddenly what a kind woman she was, then remembered he did not like her. He wondered if she wore thong panties under the jeans.

“Want to come with us?” she asked, like a woman who knew better.

David looked at her. “Why not?”

TWENTY-THREE

David shoved his hands in his pockets, surprised to find himself whistling. Surprised to be standing in the middle of a carnival ground at the end of a working day playing hooky when the caseload was staggering. Surprised to be happy.

Arthur was eyeing the roller coaster, and David well knew who would be drafted to ride along if the boy headed that way. Teddy swore she got sick on the twisty rides.

“Another hot dog, Arthur?” David asked.

“No, sir.”

Teddy rolled her eyes. “Lord knows where he would put it. Would you
look
at that Ferris wheel?”

It glowed neon-blue in the dusky twilight, and the seats looked like silver-coated leather. All illusion, David thought, thinking of the ripped upholstery and stark grey metal under the hologram.

“Quit that,” Teddy said.

He looked at her, frowning. “I will if you will.”

Arthur looked from one to the other, only mildly curious, as if encoded adult conversation was an everyday part of his life.

“I'll try,” Teddy said. “But in return you have to ride the Ferris wheel with us.”

Arthur looked at him anxiously.

“It's a deal.”

They got stuck at the top, much to Arthur's delight, just as the brown haze of twilight drained away and the night turned black amid glowing carnival lights.

“Look, Arthur, there's that man with the dachshund, see him?”

David did not understand why Teddy and Arthur were so taken with the dachshund man, though it seemed to have something to do with an episode of “LaFarge and Groat.” He did not feel left out. He felt as if he had been asleep forever, and was wide awake for the first time in way too long.

It was breezy this high up, almost cool, and David liked the warm press of Teddy Blake's skin against his. He looked out at the people walking the hard-packed dirt and tufty grass between the rides and booths.

Arthur said something that made Teddy chuckle, and David realized that this woman laughed a lot. She clutched the safety bar, and he wondered if heights made her nervous. He took her hand and turned the palm up.

Her face was still soft, the way it got when she thought something was funny. “What?”

“Want me to tell your fortune?”

“You got the wrong hand.”

“No commentary, I'm doing this.” He studied her pink palm, frowned, pursed his lips, said “ummm” three times.

“Well?”

“You're afraid of heights.”

“Nope. I'm afraid of two things—escalators and North Carolina. Nothing else scares me.”

“Not even cynical cops?”

“Nah, cynical cops are some of my favorite people. Tell me something I don't know.”

“Patience. I see … I see a man in your future. A dark-haired man, a man with brown eyes.”

She looked at his brown eyes and black hair. She did not pull her hand away. David thought that if Arthur had not been there, he would have kissed her.

But Arthur was there. The boy swung his legs, making the seat sway back and forth. Teddy squeezed David's hand before she pulled hers away, and then she clutched her stomach.

“Arthur, cut it out!”

Arthur laughed and stopped, and the seat rocked gently. The wind blew Teddy's hair into David's face, and he looked down at the Ferris wheel, seeing neon-blue and silver, thinking he had never seen a ride so beautiful.

The temptation to ignore his radio when it went off was almost more than he could bear. Teddy's face took on a closed and wary look, and Arthur ducked his head sideways, hunching his shoulders.

The dispatcher was tense. Bomb threat and arson, Cajun Supper Club, 1202 Ellington and Walford. Mel and String were on the way; he was to get there ASAP. Grids would be held open for emergency vehicles.

“What is it?” Teddy asked.

He saw it in their eyes, the same look of disappointment, of pleasures interrupted, that he saw in the faces of his children when yet another family excursion was derailed by work.

“Fire. Another supper club.”

Teddy clutched his arm. “You go on, we'll get home all right.”

Arthur grabbed his other arm. “Let us come.”

David shook his head.

“No, please, sir. I saw all those pictures before—there were all kinds of people helping. I promise not to get in the way, but I might be able to do something. Some little thing.”

“No dashing into burning buildings, Arthur. It's not like that.”

“I don't mean that, honest. I'm fourteen, for God's sake. I'm almost grown-up.”

David looked into the face of a boy who was always left behind for his own good, and found he could not say no.

“The most likely thing is you'll wind up waiting in the car. You understand that?”

“
Yes
, sir.”

David looked at Teddy, who nodded. They dropped their roller coaster tickets and went for the car. As they went, David heard the wail of concerted sirens. The all-city call had gone out.

TWENTY-FOUR

The fire was a thing of beauty, arcing through the roof, backlighting the
CAJUN SUPPER CLUB
sign with hot orange flares and columns of oily smoke. Flames shone bright and deadly behind windows that were ready to explode.

Teddy opened her door, and the safety kicked in, bringing the car to a halt in the grid.

She pointed. “See the window on the side? No, David, over there. There's a woman right by it. She can't find her way out because of the smoke, and she can hardly breathe.”

“How do you—”

“I
hear
her, David. In my head. Arthur, come on, I'm going to need you.”

The grids were giving trouble somewhere. David heard sirens, but counted only three fire vans, and a handful of uniformed officers. He clipped his ID to his belt. The scene was completely out of control, and all willing hands would be welcome. Ted was disappearing, Arthur at her heels. David ran after them.

Thick black smoke billowed from the main doorway. As far back as he was, David could feel the intensity of the heat. Teddy shouted and veered left, and David followed, chest aching. So much for Arthur staying in the car.

Why should he? David thought. Because his parents were rich?

A window blew out just as they rounded the corner, and a tornado of glass showered them with shards and slivers. David took a quick look at Arthur. The boy had a smear of blood across his shoulder and was white-faced, eyes dark and excited.

Teddy put her head through the window and shouted. David knocked the rest of the glass from the sill with the flat of his hand, got hold of an arm, and pulled. Whoever he had wasn't budging. He crowded Teddy sideways, his eyes tearing, blinded by smoke and heat.

At first glance, he thought the woman was enormously fat. He focused on the mound of belly and realized she was pregnant and unconscious. He called for Arthur, caught the woman under the arms, and pulled.

The deadweight was impossible. He was aware of sirens, fire fighters, and police officers. His world narrowed to the smoke, the heat, and the weight of the woman.

And then she budged. Teddy had one leg, and Arthur had one arm, and it took all three of them to pull her out.

David checked, saw the woman was breathing. She was young, dark-haired, soot-stained—too young for the sleazy supper club, a child bearing a child. Her face was pretty and pale. David saw that she wore a stained apron. Worked there, then. Hell of a place for a young mother.

He put a hand on the firm belly, hoping to feel the movement of the child within. Her muscles tightened beneath his palm; one hellacious contraction.

He crooked a finger at Arthur. “Grab a medic, quick, she's in hard labor.”

Arthur's eyes widened. He jumped to his feet and ran directly into the path of a police car, stopping just in time. David winced, and the boy was gone.

He turned, saw that Teddy was half in and half out of the window, tugging an Elaki out. It rolled into David's lap, surprisingly heavy, and David nudged it into the soft grass.

Teddy put a hand on the woman's belly. “Don't be scared. Help's coming.” She looked up at David. “Baby's in distress.”

“How would you—”

“Who do you think I've been listening to?”

David looked at her black-streaked face, at the line of blood running down her temple and thought, my God, this woman's for real.

“Hold my shirttail, David, there's eight people in there, every one of them close, but they can't see to get out.”

There was no time for careful rescue. They cycled people through like fishermen with incredible luck, piling one almost on top of the last. People and Elaki rolled or crawled sideways away from the smoke.

David held Teddy's shirt, then the back of her jeans as she tipped forward. Behind him, the sirens were louder. On some level he knew when the paramedics arrived and carted the pregnant woman away. He knew Arthur left, manning the stretcher.

Teddy went slack, suddenly, and slumped down by the window.

“Any more?” David asked.

“Not here.”

“You hear anybody else?”

He looked at her face, saw the tear tracks moving through sweat, blood, and soot.

“I hear everybody.”

TWENTY-FIVE

This time the fire department ignored the bomb threat. There had been over two hundred people in the Cajun Supper Club, and the death toll stood at eight—six civilians dead of smoke inhalation, one cop dead of heat exhaustion, and a fire fighter who drowned when he stumbled into an uncovered sump in the darkness.

David heard the drip of water, the beat of media choppers, hoarse shouts from people in charge who knew the worst was over but still had a lot to do before they could call it a day.

He put a hand on his chest where the scar throbbed, noticed a gluey blue stickiness on the cuffs of his pants—likely it would be thick on the bottom of his shoes. Fire gel was harder to get out of clothes than the smell of smoke.

Teddy sat quietly beside Arthur. Her braid had come completely loose, and her sweat-damp hair clung to her neck and back. A dried trail of blood snaked down her cheek.

“
There
he is, I thought that was the car.”

David looked up, saw Clements and Warden. A man in a crumpled business suit was wedged between them. He had a forlorn look. He was red-faced, hair blond and wispy, and he moved languidly, as if in shock.

“Ah, Detective Sssilver is not to be hurt so badly?” Warden skittered close and peered at David's hand.

“Very minor,” David said.

The Elaki had lost a patch of scales, and his eye stalks were caked with soot. Blue gel gummed the bottom of his fringe.

Clements waved a hand. “Detective Silver, I want you to meet Mr. Cromwell. Give him your sympathy, David. Mr. Cromwell owns this place.”

Cromwell hung his head. His eyes were blue and red-rimmed, teary. David assumed the tears were from the smoke.

Clements put a hand on her hip. “David, Mr. Cromwell has a storage unit over on Abner—could you drive us over? Van's blocked in by a fire jeep and an arson chief, or I'd do it myself. That way, Mr. Cromwell can get some idea of what's actually in storage, and not in the club. Help him file his claim.”

David wondered what Clements was up to.

Cromwell took a step backward. “Really, this isn't necessary.”

“No, no, no, Mr. Cromwell. Unless you object? I mean, if you got some
reason
—”