“I don’t know, Sherlock.”
“What?”
“You finished solving this case for me, yet?”
“Now who’s being a smartass?”
“Can you think of any reason he was dressed and staged to look like Jefferson Davis?”
“Confederate sympathizers?” I asked with a shrug. “I really have no idea.”
Calvin picked up his pen again. “You told the fire inspector last night that you didn’t smell smoke or gas before the explosion. Are you certain?”
“Yeah.”
Calvin nodded and wrote. “I got a call while you were in the shower. Gas company confirms it wasn’t a leak. The inspectors believe some sort of homemade device set off the explosion.”
“A bomb?”
“Yes. Three bodies were recovered,” Calvin said. “It’s a homicide case now.”
“Jesus.” I put a hand over my mouth.
“I have to confirm now if the bodies found were all tenants or if one was your intruder.”
I nodded weakly. Sally and I had walked away. We were still breathing. We still had lives to live, people to love, jobs to work. “I think it came from around my floor or the fourth,” I whispered. “When I—I was in the hallway and I heard my neighbor, so I went to help, and I could feel cold air.”
Calvin only nodded in agreement. “Do you need a glass of water?” he asked after a beat.
I shook my head. “I’m okay.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me that might help?”
I started to say no but stopped.
The note.
“Shit. The note. There was another note,” I said quickly. “The same paper and handwriting as the two I got at the Emporium.”
Without moving a muscle, Calvin’s entire demeanor changed. “What did it say?”
“Umm…. ‘It started with a fire.’”
“Did you keep the note?”
“No. Sorry. I dropped it.”
“But you have the other two?”
“Yes.”
“‘I know you like mysteries.’ That was the first, correct?” Calvin asked.
“And the second said, ‘Curious?’”
Calvin rubbed his jaw. “I need you to do something for me, Seb, and don’t argue.”
“I can’t promise the second one.”
