Bubbles Ablaze (28 page)

“I figured you'd be on the road by now, LuLu,” Donohue said. “Didn't I give you until sundown to get out of town?”

“You said I could stay until the Hoagie Ho.” Mama fingered her dog collar, which was hidden among the folds of her neck. “Perhaps so we could meet again?”

Donohue looked confused and, may I add, rightly so. Before Mama humiliated herself further, I asked if Sasha was okay.

Again Donohue looked confused. “Pardon?”

“Chrissy Price's daughter. We were talking about her this morning in this very room. You said you pitied the kid.”

Donohue blinked. “Why would I know what Chrissy Price's daughter was up to?”

I felt that same cold pit in my stomach, the one that ached when I learned Stiletto was AWOL. “Because my daughter's boyfriend said he was pulled over while driving Sasha back to the inn. A cop insisted that she get in the back of the cruiser and they supposedly returned to the station.”

“Wasn't me. Maybe one of my men.” Donohue yanked the walkie-talkie out of his belt buckle. “You have a description of the officer?”

“White hair. Older, G said.”

Donohue frowned. “I'm the only one that'd meet that description. Unless, the officer was from another jurisdiction.”

What other jurisdiction would take a seventeen-year-old girl? I wished G were here so he could clarify whether the cop was from Slagville or not. “My daughter's boyfriend is on his way back to Lehigh, otherwise I'd have him talk to you.”

“Lehigh, huh?” Donohue was about to radio in when he caught sight of Roxanne. “Whaddya know,” he said.

Roxanne was making her way across the room, her rhinestones glowing as much as her expression. Dangy. Now that questions had been raised about Sasha, I was eager to stick by Donohue until he sorted out what had happened to her. Never rains but it pours.

“Hello there, Chief,” Roxanne cooed. “Beautiful evening, isn't it?”

“You awful dolled up there for a simple potluck, Roxanne,” Donohue said. “You got a special evening planned?”

She brushed back a strand of hair. “Can't expect me to sit at home and mope because my old man up and ran off, now can you?”

“Did he run off, Roxanne?”

She stared at him dead-on straight. “He did, Chief. I've given up. On him at least. Not on men.”

I found myself holding my breath as Donohue considered this. Finally he said, “Good for you. You're a decent woman, Roxanne. You deserve better.”

“Thank you, Chief.” Turning to me she said, “By the way, Bub, you didn't happen to bring a curling iron with you?”

Ohmigod. She'd found Stinky. I dipped into my purse. “Have one right here,” I said, pulling out the travel iron.

“Great. I need to touch up a tendril. I hope you'll excuse me.”

Donohue tipped his hat.

“You want to come with, Bubbles?” Roxanne asked casually.

“Sure,” I said. “You don't mind, Mama? You won't be lonely?”

“With this manly man?” She boldly reached up and linked her arm in his. “No way.”

Donohue didn't say a word. He set his mouth and glowered, gripping his radio so hard it should have shattered.

“You think we convinced him?” Roxanne said as she steered me toward the ladies room.

“We won't know until this night's over. Where is Stinky?”

“I'll show you.” Roxanne led me down the hall to a door with a padlock that wasn't really locked. She undid the padlock. The door opened to a hot stairway lined by cement blocks. A furnace rumbled below.

“The furnace room? He's been hiding out in the furnace room?”

Roxanne put her finger to her lips and led me down two flights
of stairs. We landed on a cement floor next to three big boilers. A bare light bulb swung from the ceiling.

“Carl?” she called softly. “It's okay. It's me and Bubbles.”

Stinky emerged from a door under the stairs. The first thing I noticed about him was how tidy he was for a man who'd been on the lam and hiding out in a boiler room. He wore a dark green cardigan over a spotless white shirt that was tucked neatly into his khakis. His thinning brown hair was combed without the flecks of dandruff scattered about like there used to be and he was wearing contacts. He was almost bearable.

And not a squirting corsage on him.

“I'm sorry you got involved in this,” were the first words out of his mouth.

“What am I involved in?” I asked, opening my purse and pulling out my reporter's notebook.

Stinky shook his head. “Trust me. It started out as a good deed. What I designed was going to save my town, save everyone.”

“Your eavesdropping device?” Roxy asked innocently.

“His fire extinguisher,” I said. “To douse the fire under Limbo.”

“What fire extinguisher?” Roxanne wanted to know.

Stinky was clearly shocked that I had discovered his invention. “How'd you find out?”

“Long story.” I held up my reporter's notebook. “This okay?”

Stinky glanced at Roxanne. “Can you take notes now and then contact me when you're going to print the story? I'm not in hiding for nothing.”

“Sure,” I said, opening the notebook. “What I want to know is if the fire extinguisher works.”

Stinky hitched up his pants in excitement. “Well, yeah. Of course it works. It worked when I presented it to Hugh McMullen months ago.”

“Why didn't he use it? He could have made a mint.”

“Really?” said Roxy, flummoxed by the revelation that her
husband had invented a mint-producing extinguisher. “How come you never told me about this, Stink?”

“It was supposed to be top secret until we had the patent,” Stinky said. “But we were delayed because McMullen wanted me to make it fool-proof to avoid lawsuits. It worked perfectly on the tiny fires I was setting in the lab and spreading with the hairdryers. Nevertheless, McMullen demanded one-hundred percent assurance it would douse the mine fire in Limbo.”

“That's what all that equipment was that I found in the basement—to put out the Limbo mine fire?” Roxanne said. “And there I went and ripped it all out. Oh, what an idiot I was.”

“I had to move the equipment to the basement after I quit McMullen Coal. Too bad, because Mr. McMullen had provided me with my own lab and lots of cash. I miss that cash.”

“Me, too,” she added.

I jotted down notes. “Why did you quit McMullen Coal?”

Roxanne threw up her hands. “Because of the maps, remember? We've been over that, Bubbles. Let's get to Price's murder and why Stinky's Lexus was at the scene.”

“Please, Stinky. From the beginning,” I said.

Stinky nodded. “After I showed Mr. McMullen the prototype of my fire extinguisher, he treated me like royalty. Bought me two new cars, quadrupled my salary and took me out of the mapping division so I could devote all my energy to perfecting my invention.”

“How did you find out about the maps?” I asked.

“One night this spring, after work was done for the day, I went into the Number Nine mine to test the extinguisher. That mine was perfect for what I wanted because it bordered the Dead Zone and was abandoned. Or so I thought. Once I got down there, though, I saw right away what had been going on. They must have been mining a good three hundred feet into that buffer area.”

I wrote this as fast as I could. “Did you tell McMullen?”

“I called him in Pittsburgh, since he was never around, and
told him what had happened. He said he had had no idea and he'd get right on it. A few months later I went into the map room for some of my old supplies and decided to take a look at the maps of the Number Nine mine, out of curiosity.”

“They were unchanged, right?” added Roxanne, eager to move the topic along.

Stinky kissed her quick. “Right, pumpkin. Not one map noted that the mine had been reactivated. I decided to check out the mine again. I thought maybe they had filled it in, though that's a very costly process. I waited until a day when the mines were closed and went down to the same spot in the Number Nine mine. Damned if they'd dug even further under the Dead Zone. That's when I got really mad.”

“Because miners lives were at risk?” I asked, pausing from note taking.

“Not just the miners,” Stinky exclaimed. “Everyone. Do you know what would have happened if they'd dug through to the mine fire? Kaboom!”

“Shhh,” Roxanne scolded him. “People will hear.”

“Did you call McMullen again?”

“I did. It was Labor Day, so I expected him to tell me it could wait until Tuesday. Instead, he rushed right up here and we met in his office.”

“Labor Day, huh?” I thought of Louise Lamporini whose holiday had been ruined because McMullen had called her into work on Labor Day.

“And that's when I got really scared for my life.” Stinky lowered his voice and glanced around the room, as though there might be spies hidden behind the boilers. “Mr. McMullen looked awful. His hair was on end and he was chain-smoking. He told me to snap my trap about the maps and get that fire extinguisher finished. He said he had a lot riding on it and he couldn't keep bankrolling me.”

“I'm sort of amazed he could bankroll you to begin with,” I said. “From what all my sources told me, he was strapped.”

“That crossed my mind, too. I told him he could shove the project and I quit on the spot. I didn't want to be part of an organization that tinkered with human life. The next day, McMullen filed those restraining orders and sent letters to every mining company in the state saying that I was a dangerous individual. I started getting nervous that maybe I'd have no credibility left. That's why I pestered Sommerville at PMS—”

“PMS?” No. It was too coincidental to the bogus slug I'd tacked onto the mining story.

Stinky smiled. “Sorry. That's kind of industry shorthand. We call the Pennsylvania Bureau of Mine Safety, PMS.”

Imagine.

“I didn't mean ill will against Hugh McMullen. I just don't think he understood the gravity of the situation. And he had so many personal problems.”

“Then why did you go into hiding?” Roxanne asked. “Why did you leave me? Because I accused you of eavesdropping?”

“Because I hadn't been eavesdropping. Because someone was spreading that rumor to ruin your business, Roxanne. I didn't want you to get hurt, too, so I left and went into hiding. Figured it'd be safer for you if everyone thought we split.”

“Awww,” Roxanne said, blinking back tears.

But I was now really confused. If Stinky hadn't blackmailed Roxanne's clients, then who had?

People were talking upstairs. We listened for a bit, trying to determine whether or not they were coming down the stairs.

“I better go,” Roxanne said. “Chief Donohue will search the building if one of us doesn't return to that hall soon.” She planted a big smooch on Stinky's lips and then hightailed it up the stairs. “Don't go anywhere, hon.”

When she was gone, Stinky's whole body language drooped. “How could I have done this to Roxanne? She's married to the Slagville boogieman now. A boogieman who lives in a hole and spends his life on the run.”

“I think Donohue just wants to question you,” I said. “He's
already told the press that McMullen killed Price using a family pistol.”

“I'm not talking about Donohue wanting me.” Stinky bit his nail.

“Oh?”

“I know you're going to say I'm paranoid, just like Roxanne's always telling me, but honestly, Bubbles, I've had a lot of time to dissect this and I am convinced someone else was pushing Hugh McMullen. He was completely irrational during our last meeting.”

“His father, maybe?” I thought of what Louise Lamporini had said about Senior McMullen calling up his son and reaming him out.

Stinky dismissed this. “Senior McMullen is almost comatose. But you're right in that it's probably someone wealthy and someone with authority over Hugh. You also hit it on the head when you said Hugh McMullen was strapped. He would never have been able to afford the cars and the high-tech lab on his own. The company was in the red. Almost bleeding.”

“And then when you didn't produce the perfect fire extinguisher, the honcho controlling McMullen put the pressure on. That's why Hugh was so hysterical when you confronted him about the mine maps.”

“That's why Hugh did what he did,” Stinky said. “That's why he killed Price.”

There was a clanging upstairs of the padlock on the door and footsteps running overhead. Then Roxanne's voice protesting frantically.

“I've got to get out of here,” Stinky said, opening his door. “This leads to the outside, by the dugout in the Union Hall's softball field. I'll need a head start.”