Child of Fire

pain. “Sorry, man,” I said. “No more jokes. I promise.”

He settled down. I went to the foot of his bed. There was a chart hanging there, just like they show on TV, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“How you doing?” Harlan rasped.

“How am I doing with my…” I almost said investigation, but that’s a cop’s word. I didn’t want to say it. “I’m further along,” I said, “but this town is a mess. And it’s scary. But I’ve got nothing to lose.”

And that was true. Harlan and I were both pretty close to death. Despite his injuries, I figured it was even money to see which of us would live longer.

“How long ago did this start?” I asked. “The kids, I mean.”

Harlan held up his hand in a peace sign. Two.

“Two months?” I asked. He frowned. “Two years?!” He relaxed. I’d gotten it right.

Two years. Christ.

“Did something else happen around then? Something that seemed strange or…” Harlan’s eyes grew dim. He was exhausted, and I had pushed him far enough. “Relax, dude,” I said. “And hold on. I’m going to need to ask you more questions when you’re better. I need your help, okay?”

He nodded faintly. I didn’t really think he could help me much more, but I wanted to give him a reason to hold on. I stood and left him lying there, alone. I heard him struggling to breathe.

Shireen had company with her in the waiting room. Standing beside her was a short, fat man in a stained polo shirt and brown shorts that reached just below his hairy knees. He held a tape recorder in his hand. I disliked him on sight.

“Come on, Shireen,” he said, his voice an annoying whine. “I’m going to find out…” Shireen’s face was set in a scowl. She was not about to answer anyone’s questions.

He glanced over at me, and his face lit up. He turned to me. “Hey! I’ve been trying to catch up with you for two days. I’m Peter Lemly with The Mallet. What’s your connection with Harlan Semple? Is it true that you’ve come to town to outsource some of the Hammer Bay manufacturing jobs?”

I stared at him. He stared back, holding the tape recorder out. I leaned toward the microphone and said, very clearly, “You’re just about as wide as you are tall, aren’t you?”

He yanked back the recorder, but he didn’t turn it off. He looked flustered and aggravated. “I know who you are,” he said, trying to make it sound like a threat.

“So does she.” I jerked my thumb at Shireen. “Now why don’t you go away so I can express my sympathies in private.”

“Are you a friend of the family, then?”

“Nope. Never met any of them before two days ago.”

“What about the jobs at the toy factory?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The rumor would work for us while it was a rumor. As soon as it appeared somewhere official, Able Katz could refute it and it would lose some of its power.

“Actually, I think you do. I’m the only media this town has, and I’m not going to be pushed around. I’m going to get some answers myself.” He turned to Shireen. “Do you hear what I’m saying? I’m going to find out.”

“I’m not going to talk to you, Peter.” She wouldn’t look at him. “I’m never going to talk to you. Now, excuse me, I think my visit is over.”

She turned to leave. Peter started to follow her, but I stepped in his path.

“The lady wants to leave,” I said. “Leave her be.”

“So macho,” he sneered. “So chivalrous. You have no idea who you’re protecting.”

“What story are you following?” If he had said missing children, I would have swallowed my bile and bought him a drink. With my last six bucks.

“Town corruption,” he said.

“You’re after…” I let the sentence trail off. Lemly was eager to finish it for me.

“The Dubois brothers. And the mayor, too, if he’s involved. And the town council. The whole town knows what’s going on, but no one will stand up to Emmett Dubois. Except me.”

“Good luck with that.” Shireen had already entered the elevator at the end of the hall. The doors closed over her unhappy face. I turned away from my companion.

“Wait!” He grabbed my elbow. “What are you doing in town? What have you come here to do?”

“Good luck with your story,” I said. “I hope you don’t get anyone killed.”

I turned my back on him and walked toward the elevator. He followed me, peppering me with questions. He wasn’t very good at it.

The elevator opened again. I stepped inside and shoved Peter away from me. He didn’t fall, but he did keep his distance while the doors closed.

I rode down the elevator, thinking about my own behavior in the last hour. I’d driven around in a stolen van, jumped into an SUV and menaced a woman, and shoved a guy in a hospital hallway.

I’d never been this reckless and aggressive, even back when I was part of Arne’s crew. I knew the cause of it, of course. I was a dead man. I had agreed to be cannon fodder for Annalise’s war. Despite her recent gestures of