"A trail of fuel leading back to the building," Pat explained. "There were several radiating out from the garage like spokes on a wheel. They set the flares to them."
"Then ran like hell," Lucky contributed from the adjacent playground, where he was sitting in a swing.
"Whoever did it was smart," said Pat, playing devil's advocate. "Apparently the perp shut off the ventilation system in the building first. The gasoline fumes collected like air inside a balloon. One spark introduced into those compressed fumes, and kablooy. You've got yourself an explosion hot enough to melt metal."
"Maybe we'll see something when we've gone over the material more carefully." Devon tried to inject some optimism into her voice, but Lucky knew that her hopes were as faint as his own. He rued the day he'd bought those flares, which the roughnecks sometimes used at night to mark the route to an out-of-the-way drilling site.
Pat finished his beer and conscientiously placed the empty bottle in the trash barrel.
"Guess I'd better get home. It's late. If y'all turn up anything, let me know. But for the love of God keep your investigation covert. Don't do anything conspicuous."
"Don't worry, Pat. If we're caught, your name would never enter into an explanation of how we got the crime report."
"You didn't have to tell me that," the older man said to Lucky. He doffed the brim of his hat to Devon and ambled off through the park toward his squad car.
"Ready?" Lucky asked.
Devon pocketed her glasses, picked up the stack of documents, and allowed him to hold her hand as they moved in the opposite direction from Pat, toward Lucky's Mustang. The house was dark when they arrived. Laurie had already gone to bed. A light shone from beneath Sage's door, and she had a radio on, but for all practical purposes she had retired to her room for the night, too.
At the door of the guest bedroom, which Laurie had hospitably prepared for her, Devon turned to Lucky. "Tomorrow we'll begin again, asking questions about anybody who might be harboring a grudge against you. One by one we'll eliminate them."
"Okay."
"Let me know if you think of anyone else, and I'll add him to my list."
"Okay."
"Are you listening?"
"Of course." Actually he wasn't. "You sleepy?"
"A little."
"I'm not. I've never been so keyed up."
"I started out this morning with a hundred-mile drive, remember?"
He nodded, but his eyes were fastened on her neck with the single-mindedness of a vampire. "Is, us, is the bedroom okay?" he asked, reluctant to leave her. "Is the bed comfy?"
"I haven't tried it yet, but I'm sure it will be fine."
"Is the room hot?"
"Not at all."
"Too cool?"
"It's just right, Lucky."
"Got everything you need?"
"Yes."
"Towels?"
"Yes."
"Soap?"