Chapter 18

“OH, shiznit!” said Carmela, anxious to get a closer look at the postcards. “We’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Ava twirled her cape as they walked to Carmela’s car. “Kind of crazy, seeing those postcards, huh?”

“I never thought to look at where they came from,” said Carmela. “If they were printed locally or what.”

“Maybe only a couple of shops carry them,” suggested Ava. She climbed in and pulled her seat belt across. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. So maybe if you check with the clerks, they might remember who they sold them to.”

“It’s possible, because the postcards don’t seem like they’d be that popular.” Carmela turned the key in the ignition, checked the street, and pulled out. “I mean, who would want cemetery postcards?”

“Actually,” said Ava, “lots of people probably would. That’s why they come to New Orleans. To drink our booze, eat our fattening food, and get their pants scared off when they wander our cemeteries.”

“And they come for the music,” added Carmela.

“Absolutely, the music,” said Ava. “Zydeco, jazz, blues.”

“Plus Caribbean.”

“Love it,” said Ava. As they zoomed down Burgundy Street, she scrunched down in the seat and let loose a big yawn.

“It’s been a crazy week,” said Carmela. She cut across a lane of traffic, turned onto Bienville, then bumped down the narrow alley adjacent to her apartment. “With the three biggest days of Mardi Gras still to come . . .”

Ava suddenly sat bolt upright, like an alert prairie dog sniffing the air for danger. “Do you smell something?”

Carmela coasted into her garage and they both scrambled out of the car.

“Fire?” said Carmela. There was a hint of something burning in the air and the atmosphere seemed a little hazy.

Bonfire? Outdoor grill?

But deep inside her chest, Carmela’s heart did a slow flip-flop.

Fire around here? On our block?

“Criminy!” Ava whooped, as she took off running. “I hope it’s not my freakin’ shop!”

Carmela was right behind Ava, running an all-out sprint, trying to keep pace with her friend’s longer strides. But when she followed Ava through the porte cochere into their shared courtyard, she was shocked beyond belief to see clouds of gray smoke pouring from her apartment!

“Ava!” Carmela’s scream was shrill and piercing. “The dogs are in there!” She whipped her head back and forth frantically. “Oh, dear Lord, they’re trapped! You call 911, I’m going in!”

Ava caught her arm. “You can’t go in there! That place is smoking like a chimney! You’ll die of smoke inhalation!”

Carmela shook her off roughly. “I have to save them!”

Crashing through the front door, Carmela hesitated for all of two seconds and grabbed a damp towel off her kitchen counter. She pressed it to her mouth, then plunged headlong into the smoke, crying, “Boo! Poobah! Come on kids, Momma’s here!”

Poobah came running to her immediately, eyes rolling wildly, looking terrified. “Good boy!” she crooned. Then, grabbing him by the collar, she dragged him to the front door.

“I called 911!” cried Ava, who was pacing in the courtyard along with three other curious but worried neighbors. “Fire department’s on its way!”

Carmela handed Poobah off to Ava. “I’m going back for Boo!” Carmela shrilled.

“You can’t!” Ava called back. “Too dangerous!” But Carmela had already disappeared.

This time, the smoke was thicker and more acrid, and Carmela stumbled when she was barely ten feet in.

Where to go? Where would Boo go to seek refuge? Bedroom. She’s gotta be in my bedroom.

Carmela crouched low where the smoke wasn’t as thick and pushed forward.

Boo was curled up in a tight little ball in the middle of Carmela’s bed, panting hard, eyes closed tight, looking severely stressed.

Carmela didn’t hesitate for a second. She swooped down and picked up the chunky little dog in her arms. Boo resisted for a moment, then seemed to go limp.

Now to get out of here!

The smoke had gotten much worse and Carmela began to cough. Thankfully, she knew her apartment like the back of her hand. Bending low, cradling Boo, she fought her way to the door. But with her breathing compromised, every step was an exertion. She could barely see and, weighing in at forty-five pounds, her dog was deadweight.

Stumbling across her living room, Carmela banged her knee on the sharp corner of the coffee table.

At least I know where I am! Just go straight ahead and then I can breathe again. We can both breathe again.

A half-dozen steps from the door, still carrying Boo, Carmela inadvertently drew a deep breath and felt her lungs fill with noxious fumes.

Not now! Not when I’m this close!

Carmela faltered. Her eyes burned, her shoulders ached, and she suddenly felt light-headed and stupid. But as her eyes still searched for what she hoped was the doorway, Carmela dropped to her knees. Panic suddenly filled her brain like a wildfire gone rampant.

Now what? Can I crawl and drag Boo at the same time? Do I save myself and leave her?

Her dog was motionless now. Passed out? Overcome with smoke?

No, I can’t leave her behind. That’s not an option.

Carmela gritted her teeth and fought hard to pull herself to her feet. Her knees felt like lead; she barely made it. But finally she was up.

Just one step. One step at a time.

Carmela took one faltering step and knew she was a goner. Her head was spinning, she was about to pass out. She let loose a growl of anger and frustration. If she could only see . . .

Suddenly, out of the darkness, a hand appeared. Then a complete arm stretched out to her. She batted at it frantically, not knowing who it was, what it was . . .

Then a dark, shadowy figure wearing an enormous coat and respirator appeared in the swirl of darkness and smoke and wrapped a strong arm around her. Still hanging on to Boo, she was suddenly grabbed, steadied, and yanked outside.

Into blessed, breathable, fresh cool air. Bending over, coughing, fighting to clear her throat, Carmela strained to take some fresh air into her lungs.

“I thought you were dead!” Ava screamed, as she rushed up to her. “I though we’d lost you!” She was a crazed Medusa, her hair flying everywhere, her shrill voice piercing the night.

But Carmela, standing up straight again, was focused on only one thing now. Boo’s furry, limp body was lying on the brick patio. And it looked to her like her beloved little girl wasn’t breathing!

“Help her!” Carmela shrieked, starting to cry, clutching the arm of one of the firemen. “Do something!”

Another firefighter dashed forward with an oxygen tank. He knelt down and held a cone-shaped oxygen mask to Boo’s muzzle.

Tears streamed down Carmela’s face. “Please, oh, please,” she cried. She flung herself down and ruffled the soft fur on Boo’s shoulder. “Do you think . . . ?” she asked the fireman. “Do you think?”

“Sometimes, if they’ve inhaled a great deal of smoke it can take a little while to come around,” said the fireman. He had kind eyes and the nametag on his jacket read Jasper.

“Please keep trying,” Carmela pleaded as Ava stood behind her, kneading her shoulders.

Another firefighter came over to watch. Carmela saw only his boots.

“I don’t know . . .” said the owner of the boots.

He’s trying to tell me there’s no chance, Carmela thought to herself. That it’s hopeless. That she’s already . . .

Boo’s eyes suddenly fluttered.

“Hey, now,” said the fireman, Jasper, who was holding the oxygen mask to the dog’s muzzle.

Suddenly, Boo’s eyes flew open and she let loose a long wet snort. Then her chest began to move up and down in a rhythmic manner.

“She’s breathing!” Ava cried. “She’s okay!”

Wiping the tears from her face, Carmela bowed her head and whispered a prayer of thanks. Then she leaned over and hugged Jasper. Truly, this was a miracle.

* * *

SOME TEN MINUTES LATER BABCOCK SHOWED UP. Turns out Ava had called him the minute Carmela had dashed back in to grab Boo.

He was wild-eyed and pacing. Angry at Carmela for being so foolhardy, unnerved that someone had done this to her apartment. Babcock conferred with the firemen, even as he kept a constant eye on Carmela, who was huddled across the courtyard with Ava and the dogs. Finally, hands jammed into the pockets of his leather jacket, trying to manage a casual demeanor but really not pulling it off, he came over to talk to Carmela.

“It wasn’t a fire,” said Babcock. “It was a smoke bomb.”

“What?” Carmela was incredulous.

“Looks like someone pried open the side window and tossed it in,” said Babcock.

“Who would do that?” asked Ava, incredulous.

Babcock focused a penetrating stare on Carmela. “I don’t know, who do you think would do that?”

Carmela just shook her head.

“Maybe a better question,” said Babcock, “is why would someone do that?”

“I have no idea,” said Carmela, although now that the dogs were safe and the situation was under control, she was starting to turn the notion over in her mind. A random act, or was this quite deliberate?

But Babcock wasn’t finished. “Perhaps someone who wants to send you a message? Someone who thinks you’re involved in something you shouldn’t be?” His words were sharp and biting.

“Don’t threaten her like that,” said Ava, suddenly assuming a defensive posture.

Babcock pulled his hands from his pockets and spread them apart. “Who’s threatening?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” said Ava. “And if you’ve got a bone to pick with Carmela, this isn’t the time or the place. Look at our girl.” Ava reached over and tried to rub a smudge from Carmela’s cheek. “She’s been through hell, so she doesn’t need you harassing and haranguing her.”

Babcock’s eyes blazed and he looked like he was about to explode. Then he wrestled control of his raw emotions and said, “Fine. We’ll talk about this later.”

“You got that right,” said Ava.

Babcock sighed and said, “She can stay with you for the time being?”

Ava was still bristling. “She’s sure not going to stay with you.”

Carmela held up a hand. “I’m okay,” she said to Ava. To Babcock she said, “We will talk about this, but not tonight. Okay?” Her eyes sought out his, then went to Boo.

“Okay,” said Babcock. “You ladies need help with anything?”

“Just back off,” said Ava, as one of the firemen came over to talk to them.

“If you have to,” said the firefighter, giving Carmela an encouraging smile, “you can go inside for a couple of minutes. We’ve got your place all opened up and a lot of the smoke has pretty much gone. Some of your stuff’s still gonna smell smoky, though.”

Carmela got to her feet. “I’m going in,” she said. “I want to get a few things.”

“Just for a couple of minutes,” Babcock warned.

Carmela crossed the courtyard and stepped tentatively into her apartment. Just as the fireman had said, a lot of smoke had cleared out. It was bizarre, she thought, that just twenty minutes ago she’d been fighting for her life. And now the danger had passed. Just like that. Strange how things could turn on a dime.

After surveying some of the fire and water damage, Carmela took three minutes to grab some clothes, toiletries, and her laptop computer. As an afterthought, she grabbed the DVD that Raleigh had given her.

You never know.

When she emerged, Babcock was talking to a couple of firemen again. He said, “Earl here says it’s not such a big cleanup job after all.”

The fireman who’d resuscitated Boo said to her, “My brother-in-law owns a company that specializes in water and smoke damage recovery. If you want, we could probably get him to go in tomorrow.”

Ava came up to join the group. “Go for it, cher.”

“What would they do?” Carmela asked.

The fireman considered this. “Just suck out whatever smoke was left and set up a bunch of ion machines. Clean the carpets and upholstery if they need it. Your place should be good as new in a couple of days.”

“I think . . .” said Carmela, “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Just leave your house key with Detective Babcock here,” said the fireman, “so he can lock up. Then my brother-in-law can pick up the key from him in the morning.”

Carmela blushed furiously as she said in a small voice, “He already has one.”