Free Perfect Crime by Jack Parker

leapt to their feet.
    “Kitchen,” Scott ordered, perhaps understanding they shouldn’t use the front door. No telling what might be waiting outside.
    Tessa grabbed the Bible and notepad before Scott took her wrist and pulled her toward the exit. Phone still in hand, she was dialing 9-1-1 as Scott pushed open the sliding glass door. He sprinted out into the courtyard and headed to the fence. Hearing the squealing tires, he took a few good jumps, his blond head bobbing above the barrier, trying to catch a glimpse of the street.
    The avenue was now empty. “Damn it,” he shouted, running back towards the townhouse.
    Standing in the cold night air, Tessa barely had time to say, “Where are you…?” before he brushed past her, disappearing back inside.
    Dealing with the emergency operator, she waited for Scott. Her heart was beating hard; ticking off each second. He finally emerged, carrying a black leather laptop case. Maybe he’d saved a few small mementos as well, but he didn’t offer that information as he came to stand beside her.
    Tessa hung up the phone. “Fire department is on its way.”
    Together they warned the neighbors, but the sound of sirens came faster than she thought possible. Within minutes, two fire trucks and the police were busy with their flashing lights, hoses, and questions.
    Scott had so little furniture in the front room that the fire appeared to have confined itself to the window and front wall, and yet the two reporters weren’t allowed back in, right away. The fire crew urged everyone to cross to the other side of the street, and sent one of their own in to secure the premises.
    The two stood stiff, like toy soldiers, each alone with their own thoughts. “Just remember, it was your idea to stick together,” she mumbled.
    He nodded, looking at the wreckage. “In a way, it’s almost satisfying. Now I know I’m on the right track.” He patted the side of the computer bag as he spoke; an absent-minded touch, like a father burping a child.
    Scott’s tone was unemotional, but it didn’t make Tessa feel any better. She debated offering some sort of apology. “Before I hung up, G.J. warned me….”
    A man in a raincoat seemed to pick Scott out of the onlookers. He didn’t appear in a hurry as he walked over, but his dark eyes were intense; his expression almost daring them to move before he stood alongside them. Tessa kept the rest of her phone conversation recap to herself, reluctant to be overheard by the newcomer.
    Scott pasted on his cocky grin. “Ah, Detective Blaine. In the neighborhood, were you?”
    Nodding towards the smoldering townhouse, the policeman said, “I see you’ve been busy making friends, Mr. Crawford.”
    “What can I say?” Scott replied with a casual shrug.
    “I would have hoped for some sort of theory.”
    “Well, you already know how much Barton Malone loves me.”
    The detective laughed. “This doesn’t feel like our esteemed councilman. If all you’ve done is poke him with questions, then I’d have to say this is a little bit over the top for a reply. Agree?”
    He waited a moment, perhaps suspecting Scott had done more than corner the man at the press conference. When Scott admitted nothing beyond his smile, the detective added, “That’s not to say that others on the CPEA aren’t less refined. Anyone threaten you?”
    Scott glanced to the side at Tessa’s profile, before he answered, “Nope.”
    The detective’s eyes followed the betraying glance. “And you would be…?”
    “Tessa Morgan.” The redhead offered a hand to shake. “Detective Blaine, was it?”
    He nodded. “I do wish the circumstances were a little less suspect. I did warn your boy about his attitude.”
    “He doesn’t listen so well.” Tessa reached for humor to dull the fear. She forced herself to breathe normally. Like the other two, the falsely cheerful expression remained on her face.
    “So I’ve noticed. And do you work at the Tribune too?”
    “As it were, I