Lemon Meringue Season (April) Part 4

 "I can't speak for whoever set this, but I can guess," Rick said. "It was supposed to look like you or Dennis was careless, Lisa. Your firewood was moved up to right against the side of the house. It wouldn't have fooled me. I know you better than that first, and second, there's a bare spot on the lawn that is so fresh it's obvious that the wood was just moved."

 "Right before he hit Ms. DiSanti," Autumn said, "the man was pouring gas where the woodpile used to be."

 "I think that's what woke me," Adrianna said. "Someone moving the woodpile." Greg gave her a look and she meekly put the mask back on her face. Lisa nodded.

 "I would never put wood right up against the house," she said. "It draws termites."

 "If someone would "accidentally" leave a chain saw and a gas can next to the wood pile, well, if there's a fire, maybe we would think that it was an accident. Even if the gasoline was used as an accelerant. Especially if the chain saw explodes -- that was the second explosion, I take it, from Pab's reaction. Now I'm positive I know who set this."

 Greg's two-way crackled.

 "Man down! Man down!" Greg and his partner pulled out another gurney from the ambulance and raced over to the side of the house. They returned a short time later bearing what looked like a fireman who had been through a shredder or attacked by a creature with very sharp claws. Lisa burst into tears again; Fabian held her tightly, tears in his own eyes. Adrianna screamed, the sound oddly muffled inside the oxygen mask, then she, too, burst into tears and struggled against the straps. The fireman on the gurney was Pablo. Several of the gashes in his sliced gear were oozing blood. His face mask was broken and he had another gash along his cheekbone. He came to just as they got him to the ambulance.

 "Ow," he said, wincing.

 "Wow, dude," Greg said, cutting Pablo's firefighter gear away and treating the gashes he could get to. "You're a mess!" Pablo laughed weakly.

 "Damn shrapnel," he said. "That saw exploded and the pieces just went everywhere! What evil genius thought that one up? I wish I'd remembered seeing it sooner." Chief Lange joined them.

 "You saved my life, Moreno," he said. "Thank you."

 "Good thing you had your mask down," Greg told Pablo. "Guess what? You get to take a little ride with Adrianna."

 "Probably a good idea. Ow."

 "Ow, he says," Greg teased. Adrianna reached for Pablo and he took her hand. Their eyes met and locked for a long time. Rick looked over at them.

 "Pab, Chief Taylor is no longer with us," he said, "but I'm sure he would take the opportunity right now to apologize to you. I'd like to do that now on his behalf. I'm sorry the police department thought you were setting fires all those years ago."

 "There was no harm done," Pablo said. "Really. All he did was ask me questions and seemed satisfied with my answers. It was the rumor brigade around town and I never really cared what they thought. I suspected who was really setting the fires back then, and I think Chief Taylor did, too. If I'd been seriously considered as a suspect, my family would have banished me to Texas or Mexico instead of sending me to college an hour away."

 "I thought of that," Rick said. "Your mother is fierce!"

 "You're telling me!" Pablo laughed, then looked at Adrianna again. "You okay?"

 "I'm good, thanks," she said. "Can we talk later?"

 "Any time."

 "You should look forward to it."

 "I do."

Carl I. Lange, 24, 210 Ireland Street, has been charged with arson in the first degree as the result of an incident at 510 Flax Street on April 28.

 "Hi, Dad." Carl managed to twist his swollen, stung face into a smile as his father came in. Chief Lange glared at him, disgusted.

 "It was you. All those years ago. It was you."

 "I don't know what you're talking about." Carl looked up at the television hanging from the wall. His father grabbed the remote and turned off the television, then placed the remote out of Carl's reach.

 "Those little fires that risked men and equipment. You were setting them. Why, Carl? Why?"

 "I don't know where you got that idea, Dad. Everyone knows it was Moreno."

 "Everyone except the person who took these." Chief Lange dropped a packet of photographs on the bed. Carl picked them up carefully and leafed through them. So that was how William Hornberger had known so much about his past. Somebody had been investigating him back then. Probably some relative of Moreno who wanted to clear him. He'd love to know how Hornberger wound up with these. He would pay for this, that was for sure. Carl schooled his face as best he could and put the pictures aside.

 "I got revenge on Moreno and you got to be a hero," he said. "Win win." He shrugged.

 "Win? What are you talking about?" The Chief was horrified. "Fire isn't a game!"

 "I was always so proud of you," Carl said. "From the time I was little. My dad was the fire chief. But you hardly had anything to do. Kids teased me -- they said all you did was hang out at the fire hall playing checkers. Or they sang that Smoking Walter the Fire Engine Guy to me. I started setting those fires because I knew my dad was a hero and I wanted them to know it, too. I stepped up for you. I didn't want anyone to know it was me -- that would defeat the purpose. Nobody was supposed to know I was showing you off. I decided to make it look like it was Moreno. He was a troublemaker anyway. Shame Moreno left town when he did. I had one more planned that would have put him away and ruined his life. I was a little ticked that I had to stop when he left for college."

 "What did Pablo Moreno ever do to you?" Chief Lange demanded.

 "He tried to take Lisa from me. And I wanted you to be a hero so that Lisa would notice me. She never laughed at me like the others, and was a friend like she was to Shelly. I wanted more from her than that. I decided that if Moreno was out of the way and you were a hero, she'd finally see me that way."

 The Chief looked at his son, repulsed, as more and more pieces of a very long puzzle fell into place.

 "You tried to set Fabian's vardo on fire."

 "If he didn't have that damned dog, he'd be roast pork right now," Carl complained. "Lisa is mine."