Free Larceny and Lace by Annette Blair

on a sob as we parked at the far end of my parking lot. “"My building is next. Those flames, they’'re licking their way across the street. Look at them!”"
    “"Madeira,”" Werner said, a bit too gently for my comfort as he helped me from the squad car. “"At least two fire crews are hosing down the buildings around the playhouse. See?”"
    “"Mine will catch. It’'s old. I just got it, and I love it. And Dante, I mean, you know, it’'s like an inferno.”" I wiped my eyes in a bid for sympathy, though, truth to tell, I was scared shirtless about the very good chance that Vintage Magic, and Dante’'s essence, were both in danger of going up in flames.
    Where did ghosts go when the haunts their spirits were bound to disappeared?
    Werner helped Eve out, too, and slapped the squad car roof. The driver backed out and took off.
    “"Ms. Meyers, I just got confirmation that you’'ve been dating Vincent Carnevale for the past couple of weeks, so you didn’'t break any laws by using the key he gave you. The two of you are free to go.”"
    “"How did you find out so fast?”" I asked. “"It’'s the middle of the night.”"
    “"Mr. Carnevale is . . . known to us. I had the relationship confirmed at the station. I think you’'re well out of it, Ms. Meyers.”"
    “"Thank you, Detective,”" Eve said. “"I think you’'re right. Mad, I’'m going home. Are you okay to drive? Do you want me to take you home?”"
    “"Nah, but thanks. I’'m worried about my building. I’'m gonna stick around until I know it’'s safe. Are you okay to drive after finding Sampson and all?”"
    “"Yes. Call me craven but I want my mother. Oh, Mad, I’'m sorry.”"
    “"It’'s okay, sweetie. You’'re allowed.”" I hugged her. “"See you tomorrow.”"
    “"I can take you home, Madeira,”" Werner offered.
    “"I have to stay with my building. I’'m going upstairs. I’'ll be in the room facing the playhouse. You’'ll see the light. So before you leave, tell one of the firefighters that if my building does catch a spark, to come and get me, ’'kay? But tell them not to let it catch.”"
    “"I’'m not going anywhere,”" he said walking me to my door. I yawned. “"Maybe I’'ll see you when it’'s over, then.”" He scratched Chakra behind an ear and nodded.
    “"Chakra will protect me. Won’'t you, sweetie?”"
    I’'d seen a bit of a softish center beneath Werner’'s hard outer shell tonight. Not as soft as caramel, but nougat, maybe, the kind that looks soft but can pull your teeth out by the roots.
    Upstairs, I turned on the clickety light in the storage room and looked across the street at the playhouse, or what was left of it, through water-lashed windowpanes, thanks to our industrious firefighters.
    Werner used his hands as he spoke and seemed to be directing the firemen to hose down my building.
    The walls of Sampson’'s playhouse were falling in. No more top floor, and the main level didn’'t look like it would last much longer. For Tunney’'s sake, I hoped the local forensics team had come and gone before this second blaze.
    I saw huge sparks, flaming splinters of wood, actually, headed my way, but most of them dimmed and went out before they reached my windows. Not quite insurance, but reassurance. They might hit, but they could hardly smolder on a wet surface. Looking for something comfortable, like a padded chair, I went around behind the storage room hearse, a little smaller and a little older than the one Dad had hauled up from the first floor.
    I moved some jadeite lamps, a couple of tall flower stands, more spittoons—--clean, thank goodness—--and to my surprise, I found a dusty fainting couch in pretty good shape. I took the bric-a-brac off of it and pushed it over to the window. Then I took the tuxes from the closet and used them like a sheet.
    “"The couch was a cared-for treasure,”" Dante said. “"It doesn’'t have cooties.”"
    “"I have allergies,”" I said, quoting him.
    He chuckled. “"Are