Die in Plain Sight
Die in Plain Sight
“Coffee steamed in front of him, black as hell but a lot better tasting. The weather outside was the other half of January in southern California—sunny, with a warm Santa Ana wind from the desert, and blue sky forever, or until the smog crept back over the land as soon as the inland wind stopped blowing.
He drank more coffee, glanced up, and saw Dick Merle approaching. He looked like a vampire in need of a quart of blood, and was the chief arson investigator for Newport Beach Fire Department.
Rory stood and held out his hand. “Morning, Dick. I want to thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule for me.”
Merle shook hands and grinned wearily. “Man’s gotta eat,” he said. “Since Moreno County is buying, I’m one hungry son of a bitch. I’ve been working most of the last three weeks.”
“Yeah, we’ve been watching the string of arsons you’ve had in Orange County. Bad news. Hope you catch him soon.”
Merle sat down with a heaviness that told its own story of too much work and not enough sleep.
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