Sandra Brown - Smoke Screen

“That’s what he said. He wanted to celebrate his rise from the ashes. I told him I couldn’t make it because of work, but Jay called me on the afternoon of the party. He said…”

“Don’t let me down, Raley. You gotta be there. How can I have a party without you?”

Raley sighed into the telephone. From second grade, when Jay had talked him into putting a cricket in their teacher’s desk drawer, he’d been wheedling Raley into doing things he didn’t want to do. When Jay set his mind to something, he was irrepressible, and he was determined to have Raley at his party.

“I’ve been working day and night, Jay.”

“So have I. That’s never stopped us from taking time off to party.”

“This is different. This investigation-”

“Will keep. For a few hours, anyway. Stop by long enough to have a beer. I’ve rented a frozen margarita machine, but for non-drinkers, I’ll have a keg.”

Raley laughed. “Jay, beer is an alcoholic beverage.”

“You’re kidding. It is?”

The two friends laughed, then Jay said, “It won’t be a party without you, buddy.”

Raley still hedged. His days were long. His nights were spent reviewing the information he gleaned during the days. Consequently, he was working around the clock.

He’d been appointed to assist the department’s senior arson investigator, a craggy middle-aged man named Teddy Brunner. Brunner was a veteran and probably knew more about fires than anyone else in the department. But it was Raley who put notices about seminars and conferences under the chief’s nose. When budget was the only thing preventing him from attending these conferences, he paid his own tuition, considering the out-of-pocket expense an investment in his future.

Although Brunner was the veteran, Raley had two college degrees to his credit, and advanced, scientific knowledge on firefighting. By pooling their resources, they made a good team. Raley didn’t flaunt his formal education because he respected the older fireman’s decades of experience.

Brunner was occasionally cantankerous and short with him. Raley realized he probably felt threatened by him and his better understanding of new technology, but he was also gradually winning Brunner’s respect. Raley tried hard to keep the working relationship on an even keel.

But any way you sliced it, being appointed Brunner’s apprentice on such an important investigation was an indication that he was being groomed to be the senior investigator’s successor whenever the older man chose to retire. It was an enormous opportunity. As important, it would signify a personal achievement, the culmination of years of study and hard work. Because such a critical career step was at stake, he didn’t want to risk any break in his concentration.

Jay could shatter a monk’s concentration. And he never took no for an answer. “Come on, Raley. Can I count on you to be there?”

Again Raley stalled by telling Jay that Hallie was out of town. “She’s on a business trip and won’t be back till tomorrow.”

“She doesn’t trust you to come stag? That’s an awfully short leash she’s got you on.”

Jay frequently gibed Raley about his upcoming marriage, reminding him of the pleasurable benefits to be had by staying romantically footloose. The teasing didn’t bother Raley. He looked forward to matrimony, monogamy, and spending the rest of his life with Hallie.

He also suspected that his friend was secretly jealous of his relationship with Hallie, the likes of which Jay had never shared with a woman, and that the taunting was a product of envy.

Jay often gazed moony-eyed at Hallie, saying, “I might consider marriage myself if I could have Hallie. You snared the last good woman, Raley, you lucky s.o.b.” Hallie laughed off his foolishness, as did Raley. Both knew that Jay wouldn’t trade bachelorhood for a relationship where fidelity was at least expected, if not required.

“She trusts me,” Raley said. “It’s just that it won’t be any fun to go to a party without her.”

“Bring Candy. She can be your date.”

Raley guffawed. Candy Orrin had grown up with them. She was several years younger, but over one summer, when she’d talked their coach into letting her be “ball boy” for their baseball team, she’d become their shadow.

She was a tomboy who could outrun, outhit, outshoot, outcuss, and when they were older, outdrink them. She was great fun and a good friend but hardly a substitute for Hallie, and he told Jay so.

Jay chuckled. “I hear you, man. Candy hasn’t got Hallie’s grace, charm, and beauty. By the way, have I told you I’m secretly in love with your woman?”

“About a hundred times.”

“I have? Well, just so you know. Where was I?”

“Candy hasn’t got-”

“Right. She’s as far from Hallie as, say, you are from me.”

“Ha-ha.”

“But you gotta admit that Candy’s good for laughs, she’s currently without a beau, and she says if she can’t scare up a date for my party she might skip it, too. Now, how can I celebrate my miraculous survival if my two best friends are no-shows?”

Raley had run out of excuses. The real reason he didn’t want to go was that for the last several days he’d been reviewing the autopsy reports of those who’d died in the fire. To Raley, the remains weren’t just so much charred tissue and bone fragments. Those unrecognizable human bodies had been people, and they’d suffered horrific deaths. His mind wouldn’t let him forget how terrifying their final minutes of life would have been. Thoughts of it kept him awake at night, and when he was able to sleep, he heard their screams in his nightmares. He wasn’t in a partying mood.

But to discuss that with Jay would be to remind him that, for all his heroism, he was unable to save those seven. He figured those souls haunted Jay, the same as they did him, but Jay’s way of coping was to throw a party.

Perhaps his friend’s way of dealing with despondency was the better one. Jay would say that no amount of regret or sorrow could bring back those seven. Bury the dead, life was for the living. And when you got right down to it, he was right.

“I could easily have died that day, you know,” he was saying now. “I suffer flashbacks to it, Raley. To the fire, to being inside that building. Can’t see a thing, choking on smoke, afraid the floor is about to fall out from under me. There were times when I thought, This is it. My time’s up. I’m going to die. If not for fate, I’d be history. This party could just as easily have been my wake instead of-”

“Oh, for godsake, bring on the fucking violins,” Raley groaned. “You’ll use any means of manipulation to get me there, won’t you?”

“I have no shame.”

“I believe it.”

Jay reminded him to call Candy and offer her a ride, then said, “Wait and see. You’ll have a good time in spite of your sorry-ass self.”

“One more thing,” Raley said, stopping him just before he hung up. “ Cleveland Jones. I still haven’t received all the paperwork on him.”

“Oh, shit. I forgot again, didn’t I?”

“I don’t see how you could. This is the third time I’ve asked for his arrest report.”

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll get it to you on Monday, first thing.”

“I’m holding you to that.” He hung up, disappointed that he wouldn’t have the arrest report over the weekend. He hated to keep harping on Jay about it, but that report was vital to his investigation.

Jay was distracted by his personal involvement and by the media, who continued to hound him for interviews. Not that he minded being in the spotlight, but being a celebrity was time-consuming.

With the exception of this last conversation, each time Raley phoned Jay, he seemed preoccupied and always in a rush to cut short the call. Any other time, Raley would feel like he was getting the brush-off, but Jay’s splintered attention was understandable. He, like every person in the CPD, was working overtime to recover from the disastrous fire. The entire department was in shambles, operating in a state of barely controlled chaos. Personnel were working out of temporary headquarters, trying to reorganize even as they went about their routine duties.