"I'll call," said Mrs. Anderson. The fire move up the side of the house to the top floor. "Qadira, are you in that house?"
"Where's the phone at in your house?" Brice asked. He would make the call to avoid Mrs. Anderson from adding the information of who started the fired. Crossing the street, he charged toward Mrs. Anderson's door and twisted the knob. He ransacked the living and dining room found no phone or cord to lead to one. Mrs. Anderson went into the kitchen, opened the oven door. Sliding the roast pan half out with a fork, she examined the meat then push it back into to the oven. Brice closed the oven door. Leaning over her, he noticed the spotless counters and floors. A phone cord ran from a padlock storage cabinet near the stairway to the basement. He yanked the lock.
"My husband did that for I wouldn't call the police about him cheating. She reached between her breasts and pulled the key out. "He doesn't know I have the second one, he thinks he lost it." She unlocked the door and step back.
Does Qadira's father have to go to these extremes to keep their family business quiet? He dialed emergency and returned the receiver to the phone. Finding a good spot at the dining room window, he contemplated whether he should popped Nachine in the face. She emerged from the house with a handgun by her side. She hid the gun in her duster pocket at the sound of sirens.
Arcadio came out. Brice lifted up the window and poke a hole in the screen. A quick shot at him and it will be over. They're nothing without him, Tattletale or Nachine.
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