Why would Marie think...? Then it dawned on me.“You mean Imogen?”“The pretty redhead you’re always with? She’s your girlfriend, right?”“...ctually, no. She’s not.”“Oh. Right. Okay. I just assumed...” She was smiling again. And she sounded brighter than she usually did. Mind you, that wasn’t hard. She usually sounded like a miserable bitch. “Anyway, Mom said that I’m to tell you that since you’re such a good customer, the coffee is on the house from now on. And free refills. As much as you can. “Damn, what next?” I mumbled. Well, I wasn’t about to take the time to fix it so I ran back inside and grabbed the keys to Sheri’s car.I knew exactly where the fire was from the address so I put my foot to the floor and was doing about seventy-five when I saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror. By now I was getting down-right aggravated. We all had signs saying, “Press,” in the rear window of our cars. Rarely did the cops bother us when they knew there was a fire or bad accident—especially. More

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