It's Murder at the Buy-Right

35

 Richmond Eades' patrol car was in Deke's driveway. After the call came in, it took Monroe over twenty minutes to reach the location.

He bolted from the car, his hand lightly touching the hood of Eades' cruiser. It was still warm.

Monroe stood and watched the orange and yellow flames lick the night sky.

"Where you been?" Eades asked.

As Monroe looked on, orange and yellow shadows danced over his face.

"Sorry," Eades said. "You're uncle's had a run of pretty bad luck, lately."

You didn't need to be a fireman to know that the place was a total loss. The trucks were pouring all they had into the blaze, but it burned with the fervor of a rabid animal devouring itself.

"How long's she been going?" Monroe asked a volunteer fire fighter.

"Don't know," he said. "The whole place was engulfed when I got here."

Hours later, the scene was a smoldering ruin of black char and acrid smoke.

"Sorry, Willis," the chief said. "We couldn't save anything."

"You heard about the trouble at the store, didn't you?" Eades asked.

Monroe said nothing.

"Group was marching for Albion. Somebody decided to test their pitching arm with a brick. Busted up that plate glass window pretty good. Guess they don't like Albion. Who does?"

"Anybody hurt?" Monroe asked.

"Nah," Eades laughed.

"Know who did it?"

"Are you kidding? You should'da heard the witness descriptions! Talk about all over the barnyard!"

Some of the neighbors were still milling about. The chief assured everyone that it was safe to go back inside their houses.

The crew looked like he felt – worn out. Monroe glanced at his watch. His shift was over thirty minutes ago.

Off the clock.

A free man.

He felt for the keys in his right pant's pocket. He cranked the cruiser and drove straight to Daisy Ann's house.