replied with interest. Maybe sheâd find out the answers to some of her questions, after all. Not wanting to appear too eager, though, she waited.
âIt was a real tragedy,â he said, shaking his head at the memory. âYou say youâre interviewing Mrs. Hobbs for a project?â
âYes,â answered Allie.
âThen you should probably know this. Her husband and child died in that fire. Someone else, too, as I recall. Iâm sure you donât want to bring up painful memories or ask her any awkward questions.â
Too late for that, thought Allie. I already asked her about her family, and she got so mad she set fire to the cafeteria. She didnât say anything, though, hoping Chief Rasmussen would say more about the âsomeone elseâ who had died.
âThe poor woman,â said Allieâs father, sounding horrified.
âWorst thing Iâve seen in all my years on the job,â the chief said sadly.
âBy the way,â he added to Allie, âIâm sure glad you got out of the glen safely. According to the newspaper, you were quite the hero that day.â
Allie smiled and shrugged, feeling embarrassed at the word âhero.â
Her father and the chief talked for a few more moments. Then the chief left, saying again, âSorry to have bothered you folks.â
Allie was glad Chief Rasmussen had realized she wasnât a mentally deranged kid with a fire-starting fixation. But she knew her troubles were far from over.
Sure enough, her father turned to her with a look of exasperation. âAllie, what in Sam Hill is going on?â
It was one of her fatherâs favorite expressions. Allie had often meant to ask him who Sam Hill was, anyway, but she didnât think this was the proper moment.
âFirst the cafeteria lady from your school, Mrs. Hobbs, comes here and scares Michael half to death, and next thing I know, the fire chief is here, asking questions as if he thinks youâre a pyromaniac!â
Allie was still trying to take in the bizarre notionthat Mrs. Hobbs had actually come here, to her house.
âDad, I have no idea what happened at the library. The microfilm just started to melt. It was really weird. Even Mrs. Harris said theyâve never had that problem before. And then, because there was a fire at school, too, and I happened to be in both places, the chief decided maybe I was some kind of creepy fire nut.â She looked at her father beseechingly.
âWell, I think we got that straightened out,â said Mr. Nichols. âAt least, I hope so. But this visit from Mrs. Hobbs . . . Why do you think she came here? You havenât been bothering that poor woman, have you?â
Poor woman! Allie thought. âNo!â she cried. âI asked if I could interview her and she said yes, only we got interrupted by the fire in the cafeteria. What was she doing here?â
Her father handed Allie a piece of folded paper. âWhen I told her you werenât home, she asked if she could leave a message.â
âFor me?â Allie asked with amazement.
Her father nodded, watching her curiously. Allie was curious, too, but mostly she felt bewildered andâyes, she admitted to herselfâscared. She held the message gingerly between two fingertips, as if it were a poisonous snake or a ticking bomb. Feeling her fatherâs eyes on her, she wished she could read itin the privacy of her room. But what excuse could she give for that?
Slowly, she unfolded the paper and gasped as she read the scribbled words:
Â
Be careful.
Youâre playing with fire.
Â
âWhat?â asked her father, his voice filled with concern. âLet me see that.â He read the message and gave a low whistle. âWhat does she mean?â
âI donât know,â Allie whispered, staring at the paper in horror.
âAllie,â her father said, reaching out to touch her face, âyou arenât