"vehicular arson is not the answer"
;keaton st. james sentences
“Red is a fire color. Why’d he get it in red if I’m not supposed to set it on fire?” Ordo studied the car through Mereel’s binoculars, purchased for hiking trips, not for spying on the neighbors. “Besides, I can’t get it towed. It’s legally parked, surprisingly.”
The car wasn’t a neighbor’s, however. It was his father’s. A pricey luxury model vehicle that screamed mid-life crisis. Complete in an obnoxious shade of solid cherry red, visible even from two blocks away.
“It’s definitely his. I recognize the plate number.” He offered the binoculars to Etain. The car blazed, figuratively, ruining the otherwise uneventful view from his balcony—a warning.
He chewed his lip.
“You don’t think he’s figured out Mereel and I live here, do you?”
