Fire Works in the Hamptons : A Willow Tate Novel (9781101547649) (25 page)

He could torch my mother's house. Or my grandmother's. I sank to the floor and held Little Red with one hand and Elladaire with the other, the phone tucked against my shoulder. “How soon before you get here?”

CHAPTER 24

W
HILE I WAITED FOR PIET and the pizza, I thought about all the places Roy could hole up. Squatters—homeless, adventurous or cheap—were always building illegal tent sites in the woods, but we also had a lot of vacant houses and beach cottages now that the summer rentals were over. Neighbors were fewer, farther apart. A lot of boats sat empty and unattended at docks from here to Montauk, easy pickings for thieves and fugitives. The water was Roy's best bet for avoiding the roadblocks on the few roads leading out of the Harbor. Who knew what he was thinking, though? Trying to figure out the thought processes of a bitter, hate-filled, and vengeful man was a waste of time.

Time that the fireflies did not have. Could they survive the cooler nights? Were they finding food? How long before people realized they were out of this world, literally? No one else was going to help them. I understood that well enough. But how was I supposed to do it? I couldn't leave the house or Elladaire or my grandmother unprotected, but how could I let the Lucifers down? Maybe if they came to my backyard tonight, they'd give me better directions to whatever was stuck in a ditch. Maybe they could tell me why it—she—was so important. So far our communication had been in pictures and feelings and one word. I had to hope for more.

The more I thought about it, though, the less sense my staying here made. It was Piet who could protect my family's houses and the baby. On my own, I couldn't do anything but wait for a Molotov cocktail to come flying through a window or a murdered firefly to land on my wooden porch.

So once Piet came back here I could go to the salt marsh. By myself. At night. To look for a dangerous creature.

And pigs would fly.

 

I flew into Piet's arms when he drove up, almost squashing the pizza between us and imperiling the six-pack he had in his other hand.

“Now that's what I call a welcome. And here I thought I'd have to spend at least a couple of hours trying to change your mind.”

“I can't do it, not without you.”

“I sure hope not.”

I took the pizza from him. “I thought you were going to try to convince me to go alone.”

“Now where's the fun in that?” He set down the Sam Adams and opened a bottle. I disliked the smell of beer, and the grin on his face.

“Fun? Going into the marsh and the mud?”

The smile faded. “Is that what we're talking about? Hell, woman, do you think I'd let you go off by yourself into that no-man's land? What kind of guy have you been seeing? It's no wonder you're so skittish if that's how your boyfriends treat you.”

“Then what were you thinking—Oh. That.”

“I s'pose we could try it in the mud.”

“That's disgusting. Here you are, back from firefighting, facing a night of uncertainty, and you're thinking about dirty sex?”

He held up his bottle in a mock toast. “The finest kind. Maybe the only kind.” Then he took another swallow of beer. “Hey, I'm a guy. What else am I supposed to think about, especially after fighting a fire? Adrenaline is an aphrodisiac, you know.”

No, I didn't. Danger had me quaking and limp afterward. I was exhausted merely from worrying about him at the boat fire.

He wasn't finished. “And if the future is so uncertain, why not enjoy it while we can?”

He had a point and, for heaven's sake, a bulge in his jeans. “Not in front of the baby,” I whispered, as if Elladaire could understand sexual tension. She barely understood the danger of pulling a dog's tail.

“So far I'd guess her only view of an adult relationship was full of violence and cruelty. We better give her a better memory, before she gets ruined for life.”

Then he kissed me. He tasted of beer, which I did not like. He smelled of smoke and soap. He must have showered and changed his clothes at the firehouse, but the smoke stayed with him. I pulled back, very aware of the baby.

Both of us noticed she was playing with the spoons I'd given her, not watching.

“We better do it again.”

This time he pulled me closer so I could feel his hardness, feel his heat. His kiss was deep and long and suddenly it was like a conversation with the mayor. You forgot where you were and why you'd come there. I was here, in Piet's arms, and that's where I belonged, for now. What beer? What baby?

“Okay, she's seen enough,” he said. “The pizza's getting cold.”

Man, he really knew how to put out a fire.

“But we'll continue this after Edie goes to sleep.”

I was afraid we would. And afraid we wouldn't.

I slid pieces of pizza onto paper plates. It tasted better that way. “I thought we'd put her in the backpack carrier and kind of patrol the block together, in case Roy decides to take his revenge on the whole family, not just me.”

He chewed on a slice of pizza while I debated giving some to Elladaire. The sausage and peppers looked deadly, but the crust couldn't hurt her, could it?

“Not a bad idea, except you need to have a talk with the flying matchsticks. I'll make the circuits of the houses. You set up your teleconferencing in the backyard.”

“What about the baby? If Roy gets her . . .” That was too terrible to contemplate.

“He won't. Everyone knows what he looks like, so the cops should have him in custody soon. Unless Rick gets hold of him, or Danvers from the bowling alley. His chances of seeing a jail cell sounded pretty slim to me from what I heard. Meantime, Edie goes with me.”

Lucky kid. I got to hang out with alien insects. She got a piggyback ride.

 

Plans changed, right in the middle of the pizza.

We got company. It wasn't Roy Ruskin, but the unexpected guests were almost as dangerous.

I'd forgotten my friend Ellen was coming back out to Paumanok Harbor on the weekend to spend more time with Martin, the science teacher. I'd forgotten it was Friday, besides.

She tried to call, Ellen said, but the answering machine didn't pick up. I must have been on the phone with my mother or father and didn't hear the call-waiting beep. So she and Martin decided to come by and see if I wanted to go out to dinner with them.

I pointed to the baby and the pizza, two easy outs. Piet offered them beers, though, so they sat down. Martin took a slice of pizza and a beer, but Ellen leaned close to me and whispered that she was embarrassed for intruding, but they'd thought Barry would be here.

“Not a chance,” I told her. “He lied about his name and his job and his reasons for being here.”

“But you have so much in common, your writing and all. And he's gorgeous.”

So was Piet, in his own, better way. After sharing his beer, he ignored the company and concentrated on feeding Edie tiny slivers of pizza she could chew or gum. She loved it.

I hated having to explain about Barry to Ellen, one of my oldest friends, without telling her how threatening he was to Paumanok Harbor.

She shrugged. “This new guy isn't half as hot.”

She'd never guess how hot.

“He's real quiet, too, and not as friendly as Barry. He's a fireman, for Pete's sake. You have nothing in common with him.”

She'd never guess how much we shared, either, not that I cared. I forgot how much of a snob Ellen was, when it came to men. I tried to keep the sharpness out of my voice when I told her, “Barry was using us. Piet is helping.”

She should have noticed the pizza getting cold, Martin having another beer, the baby getting tired, and me getting snippy, but she didn't. Or that I didn't offer coffee or dessert.

Instead they got down to the real reason for the visit, not my company, not my pizza: Martin wanted my bugs.

“I know you were offering a reward for them,” he said. “I'll double it.”

“I stopped doing that. They were getting hurt. People were getting hurt. You saw what happened to Barry when he swatted at one. Their, ah, bites are poisonous.”

“I can be careful. I have nets and jars in the car, along with thick gloves and a beekeeper's head cover. If that works, I thought I'd bring my science class here to gather some. Word is they like your neighborhood.”

Ellen started to say how she'd bring a couple of her own honors science students next weekend, so they had the same experience.

Piet slammed his bottle down.

I shouted, “No.”

They both looked surprised. “Why not? They're disturbing the village and causing fires.”

“They wouldn't if people left them alone.” Speaking of leaving alone, Piet got up and took Edie away for her bath and pajamas. Feet of clay, fire boy, I muttered to myself.

Martin was adamant, enthused, excited. “But they are obviously a new species. Someone needs to do research on them. It's a great opportunity for my students. Think of the discovery!”

“And think of you getting your name in some journal?”

Martin was oblivious, but Ellen got offended. “Willy, that's mean. Science is all about uncovering new things. Why are you being so defensive anyway? They are beetles that could prove valuable.”

“Exactly. They are too valuable to endanger in any way.”

Ellen leaned forward. “But we wouldn't want to harm them, just see how they can be used.”

I leaned back. “Used?”

Now Martin took over. “Think about it. Cheap cook fires for undeveloped countries, instead of chopping down every tree. Portable heat for cold climates. Why, it's the renewable energy everyone's been searching for. If we can breed them and harness their capability to create a spark, we can eliminate the dependency on foreign oil, on polluting coal, on nuclear reactors with disposal issues.”

Ellen added, “Once we establish their breeding habits and a suitable controlled environment, we can have an unlimited supply.”

Captive breeding in a laboratory? For the creatures who could make an aurora borealis? “You don't know anything about the bugs!”

“I know they are neither flies nor bugs,” Martin said in condescending tones, while he reached for another bottle of beer.

“I know what they are. They are beetles, which have hard outer wings.” Except mine had gossamer wings. “They are still called fireflies or lightning bugs.”

“But different, larger, out of season, burning stuff, which is all the more reason to gather some up and examine them, to see how they create heat and fire.”

I was horrified. “They don't make fires unless they're hurt! You'd be torturing innocent creatures!”

Martin dismissed my argument with a tutting sound. “To serve mankind. That's what we do, what we've always done.”

Ellen looked at the sausage on the pizza. “You eat meat, don't you? And fish and chicken.”

Not anymore, I didn't.

“We wear wool and leather. Where do you think they come from if not innocent creatures. It's the way of the world.”

I was an instant vegetarian. And I'd wear—yeck—polyester if I had to.

Martin's face turned red, and the comb-over came loose as he insisted: “You cannot withhold such a discovery from the world, from science. Just think, if we're the first to study them, we'll be famous. Why, we can patent them.”

If I were drawing Martin, I'd put dollar signs in his eyes. “But they—” How could I say they were from another world? “They communicate.”

Martin went tut-tut again. I wanted to smack his patronizing puss. “We know certain insects communicate with each other, but that's limited to finding mates and food. They have no intelligence.”

My insects—beetles—did! More than these two imbeciles hiding greed in the name of science. “You've seen them, Ellen, at the fireworks, how they formed patterns and pictures.”

“I saw abnormally big and bright lightning bugs gather in a swarm and mimic some of the rockets.”

“What if they weren't imitating what they saw, but planning new designs? What if they have the intelligence of a dolphin? We don't eat them, do we?”

“Some people do, hungry people. And our government has been known to train them as weapons bearers or weapons detectors. To say nothing of how many are captured for marine shows. Because they are intelligent and can be trained to perform. For people.”

“And these are just beetles, Willy,” my former friend Ellen said. “You hate all bugs. Remember how you left the dorm when a wasp made its nest outside our window? And screamed every time a daddy longlegs got in the shower?”