Trick or Treat Murder by Leslie Meier Read Free Book Online
Authors: Leslie Meier
first fire. This time, firemen were unable to save the building.
"The structure was fully involved when we arrived," Fire Chief Stanley Pulaski was quoted as saying. "A decision was made not to put any of our personnel at risk, our objective was simply to confine the fire and let it burn itself out."
In other words, thought Lucy, they watched it burn. Again, there was no hint that the fire might have been deliberately set. Spontaneous combustion of new hay was given as the likely cause.
The third fire occurred only a month later, in late September. Fortunately, when the old powder house went up in flames it was quickly discovered, and the antique building, which dated from the Revolutionary War was saved. As Barney suggested, this fire was blamed on youthful vandals.
"I want to make one thing absolutely clear," warned Police Chief Oswald Crowley. "This sort of destructive behavior will not be tolerated in Tinker's Cove."
His warning went unheeded, thought Lucy, grimly noting that the Homestead burned barely three weeks later. This time there was no doubt that the fire was set. ARSON CLAIMS LIFE! declared the headline of the most recent issue. The headline was printed above a stark photo of the Homestead chimney, all that was left after the fire.
The story went on to say that fire officials were now taking a second look at the earlier fires, which seemed in retrospect to be the handiwork of the same deranged individual. "We're determined to catch this perpetrator before he takes any more lives," proclaimed Chief Pulaski.
A related story chronicled the amazing feats of Sparky, the accelerant-sniffing dog. "He's not just my pet," his handler was quoted as saying. "He's my partner."
As she replaced the papers in a neat pile, Lucy recited the dates of the fires. July 5. August 28. September 26. October 19. There didn't seem to be a pattern to the fires, except for the fact that they were coming closer together.
Leaving the workroom, Lucy wandered over to the nonfiction section. There, among the self-help books she found a thick volume on abnormal psychology. A glance at the index revealed an entire chapter devoted to "Pyromania and Related Disorders."
Bitsy smiled brightly as Lucy approached the desk.
"That's really heavy reading," she joked, taking the hefty volume. "Sure I can't interest you in something lighter? We have some brand new mysteries."
"I don't have much time to read anymore with the baby. I'm just doing a bit of research."
"We have some excellent material on postpartum depression," offered Bitsy, determined to be helpful.
"I'm fine, really," said Lucy. "Just curious about something."
Bitsy couldn't resist. "Curiosity killed the cat. Now, why do people say that? Curiosity is wonderful, isn't it?"
"Sometimes. Sometimes it gets you in trouble." Lucy took the book and tucked it under her arm. She knew from experience that asking questions could be dangerous.
Not this time, she thought, as she left the library and headed for Sue's house. She was determined to find out who was setting the fires, but, she promised herself, she was going to be careful. Very careful.
Besides, she didn't really have enough time to get into too much trouble. Before she started investigating, she had to bake some cupcakes. How many had she promised Sue? Two dozen?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Twelve dozen? I said I'd bake twelve dozen cupcakes? I must have been out of my mind." Lucy was sitting at the huge scrubbed pine harvest table in Sue's kitchen. Sue was always remodeling her kitchen—it had gone from cluttered country to fifties kitsch and now had a definite English accent. A plate rack hung near the sink, a Welsh cupboard hugged one wall, and a cobalt blue Aga stove was her pride and joy.
"You were kind of distracted," admitted Sue. "Forget it. Two dozen will be fine."
"Oh, no," said Lucy. "I'll manage." She knew she owed Sue a favor for taking care of Zoe, and she wanted to even the score as soon as possible.
"The structure was fully involved when we arrived," Fire Chief Stanley Pulaski was quoted as saying. "A decision was made not to put any of our personnel at risk, our objective was simply to confine the fire and let it burn itself out."
In other words, thought Lucy, they watched it burn. Again, there was no hint that the fire might have been deliberately set. Spontaneous combustion of new hay was given as the likely cause.
The third fire occurred only a month later, in late September. Fortunately, when the old powder house went up in flames it was quickly discovered, and the antique building, which dated from the Revolutionary War was saved. As Barney suggested, this fire was blamed on youthful vandals.
"I want to make one thing absolutely clear," warned Police Chief Oswald Crowley. "This sort of destructive behavior will not be tolerated in Tinker's Cove."
His warning went unheeded, thought Lucy, grimly noting that the Homestead burned barely three weeks later. This time there was no doubt that the fire was set. ARSON CLAIMS LIFE! declared the headline of the most recent issue. The headline was printed above a stark photo of the Homestead chimney, all that was left after the fire.
The story went on to say that fire officials were now taking a second look at the earlier fires, which seemed in retrospect to be the handiwork of the same deranged individual. "We're determined to catch this perpetrator before he takes any more lives," proclaimed Chief Pulaski.
A related story chronicled the amazing feats of Sparky, the accelerant-sniffing dog. "He's not just my pet," his handler was quoted as saying. "He's my partner."
As she replaced the papers in a neat pile, Lucy recited the dates of the fires. July 5. August 28. September 26. October 19. There didn't seem to be a pattern to the fires, except for the fact that they were coming closer together.
Leaving the workroom, Lucy wandered over to the nonfiction section. There, among the self-help books she found a thick volume on abnormal psychology. A glance at the index revealed an entire chapter devoted to "Pyromania and Related Disorders."
Bitsy smiled brightly as Lucy approached the desk.
"That's really heavy reading," she joked, taking the hefty volume. "Sure I can't interest you in something lighter? We have some brand new mysteries."
"I don't have much time to read anymore with the baby. I'm just doing a bit of research."
"We have some excellent material on postpartum depression," offered Bitsy, determined to be helpful.
"I'm fine, really," said Lucy. "Just curious about something."
Bitsy couldn't resist. "Curiosity killed the cat. Now, why do people say that? Curiosity is wonderful, isn't it?"
"Sometimes. Sometimes it gets you in trouble." Lucy took the book and tucked it under her arm. She knew from experience that asking questions could be dangerous.
Not this time, she thought, as she left the library and headed for Sue's house. She was determined to find out who was setting the fires, but, she promised herself, she was going to be careful. Very careful.
Besides, she didn't really have enough time to get into too much trouble. Before she started investigating, she had to bake some cupcakes. How many had she promised Sue? Two dozen?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Twelve dozen? I said I'd bake twelve dozen cupcakes? I must have been out of my mind." Lucy was sitting at the huge scrubbed pine harvest table in Sue's kitchen. Sue was always remodeling her kitchen—it had gone from cluttered country to fifties kitsch and now had a definite English accent. A plate rack hung near the sink, a Welsh cupboard hugged one wall, and a cobalt blue Aga stove was her pride and joy.
"You were kind of distracted," admitted Sue. "Forget it. Two dozen will be fine."
"Oh, no," said Lucy. "I'll manage." She knew she owed Sue a favor for taking care of Zoe, and she wanted to even the score as soon as possible.
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