Page 49 of Hot Under the Collar

“March—what you doing back so soon? Aren’t you off shift today?”

“Yeah. Chief here?” Leo asked.

Mark pointed toward the common area. “Just went to grab more coffee. You okay, man? You look…” He cocked his head at Leo. “Not okay.”

“It’s those damn false alarms along Main again. Thanks, Mark.”

Chief Bob was sitting in one of the leather recliners, watching bad TV and slurping back a fresh mug of coffee when Leo tapped his shoulder. Bob jostled his mug enough to spill some on his lap. He cursed at the mess he’d made. “Wasn’t expecting you here, kid. What’s going on? Hey, grab me a paper towel. Will ya?”

Leo retrieved the paper towel roll as he spoke. “Can we talk? Those false alarms just happened again. Looks like you all weren’t even notified. I want to figure this thing out once and for all.”

Bob could see the determination on Leo’s face. He nodded at the rest of the crew and stood, wiped off his pants. “Sure. Let’s go to my office.”

Once they were inside, Bob put down his coffee mug and gave Leo his full attention. “You know something I don’t? Because we’ve been trying to figure this out for a while.”

“So hear me out. I have a theory. Alarm tripped at O’Donnell’s several minutes ago. Local only. No dispatch, no tones.”

The chief frowned. “It stopped on its own?”

“Yeah. People were already heading out when it went quiet.”

“Fireworks again?”

Leo shook his head. “Nope. The Mayor’s busy with other things, as far as I can tell. No fireworks, no kitchen mess, no heat. It just … went.”

The chief leaned back. “Hmm. So you think that block’s still tied together?”

“That’s what it looks like. Feels like a bleed-over—one detector sneezes and the rest catch a cold.”

The chief rubbed his jaw. “And it didn’t route to us.”

“Not even a blip.”

Bob sighed. “Christ. That could explain the randomness of it. Those panels should’ve been separated twenty years ago. Long before I was chief.” He stood. “I’ll call inspections. Have them start with the shared runs behind the apartments.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Good instincts,” Bob told him. “We don’t want to miss the day it isn’t a false alarm.”

They both went still.

Bob’s hand braced on the edge of the desk. “Wait. That building…”

Leo nodded. The memory rose before he could stop it—his dad, the fire, the questions he’d asked at ten years old that no one had been able to answer. Why didn’t they come sooner? Why hadn’t his dad gotten out?

The chief cleared his throat. When he looked back at Leo, his expression had shifted to resolve. “I’ll have inspections out there as soon as possible.”

“Today?” Leo pressed.

Bob met his eyes. “Let me go make that call right now.”

21

Lynne (Now)

It was after midnight when Lynne trudged back up the stairs to her apartment, and she was surprised to find Leo sitting on the couch, wide awake, television on. He was wringing his hands nervously, eyes focused straight ahead. He didn’t turn toward her when she closed the door. It was as if he hadn’t heard her arrive.

Twig was curled against his thigh, as still as could be.