The Arsonist Read Online Free

she’d been in elementary school.
    Mrs. Sampson sighed. “He quit about six months ago.”
    There was a time when she’d known everything about the Varsity. Now she was the outsider. “Everything all right with him?”
    She stood a little straighter. “He just wanted more money than we could pay.”
    “That doesn’t sound like Dave.” The tall, lean man always enjoyed a good joke and kept Eskimo Pies for Darcy in the freezer.
    “People change.”
    The tone in her mother’s voice told her not to push. “Okay. Where is Trevor? I tried him on his cell phone earlier but he didn’t pick up.”
    “Your brother is getting supplies for the dinner crowd. We ran short on a few things.”
    “How’s he doing?”
    Mrs. Sampson started to wipe the cooktop with a rag. “He’s doing just fine. The tavern has never been busier. Thank God, I have him.”
    Darcy didn’t miss the hidden meaning. Trevor was the golden child. “Good.”
    “Well, you better get to work,” her mother said. “That trash won’t take itself out.”
    Darcy glanced at the trash can overflowing with debris. She visualized the story she was going to write and the awards she was going to win.
    “Will do.” Darcy sealed up the green bag lining the wheeled plastic trash can.
    “And when you’re done with that, get this kitchen cleaned.”
    “Right.”
    Darcy pushed up the sleeves of her suit and tried to pull the bag out. It was heavier than she realized. Deciding to keep the trash bag in the can, she tipped the can back on its wheels and started to pull it outside.
    “Darcy?” Her mother looked as if she had something else to say.
    “Yeah?”
    As their gazes met, her mother frowned, seeming to change her mind. “Never mind.”
    “Okay.” Drawing in a deep breath, Darcy yanked at the can again and slowly started to drag it to the back alley behind the Varsity.
    The alley was lined with pitted asphalt and wide enough for cars to drive through. The Varsity, flanked by a bridal shop and a drugstore, was located in middle of the block. The battered blue Dumpster, shared by all three businesses, was tucked in a nook by the drugstore.
    Darcy pulled the trash can down the two steps by the back door, wincing as it banged hard with each drop. Her ankles wobbled as her high heeled boots caught between two of the cobblestones. Cursing, she yanked it free, and in the process, ripped the leather from one heel.
    She stared at the torn Italian leather. The three-hundred-dollar boots had been a Christmas gift from Stephen two years ago. She suspected this was fate’s retribution for the lies she’d told her mother.
    Tracking down the real Nero was worth it, she reminded herself.
    Standing taller, she gripped the handle of the trash can and started down the alley. “I’m not going to quit. I’m not. I will get through this.”
    The heavy can rumbled over the uneven asphalt as she headed toward the Dumpster. She opened the side door of the Dumpster and tugged on the green trash bag three times but couldn’t get it free.
    “You are a stupid trash bag,” she said gritting her teeth. “And you aren’t going to win.” Determined, she jerked the bag. Her fitted jacket strained against her back and she pulled and pulled until finally the garbage bag wiggled free. She dumped the bag into the Dumpster.
    Taking out the trash was hardly a moment to be celebrated, but she did feel a little pang of pride as she brushed her hands together. Tenacity. It had won out over the trash and it would find Nero.
    Her shoulders back, she started to drag the can back to the kitchen. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear the roar of the motorcycle zooming down the alley until it was almost too late.
    The driver hit the brakes and narrowly swerved around her as she looked up. Shocked, she stumbled back.
    Her heart hammering in her chest, she went from fear to anger in a split second. Without thinking, she flipped the Motorcycle Man the bird. “What is the