Chapter 11By the time all the emergency vehicles had arrived, the warehouse was a smoking crater. The dark sky had been lit up for miles with the flames and smoke; even if the two of them had not managed to call 911, someone else surely would have. The firemen gave them blankets and oxygen, but they were uninjured. Scared as hell, especially as the police arrived to take their statements, but nothing seemed truly amiss.
The clowns were gone, too.
At least as far as the two of them could tell, there was not a single item in the warehouse that had survived the fire. Apparently, all the plastics used in the decorations were highly flammable. And the owner, with a sheet a mile long, had once been brought up on arson charges in the past. “We’re suspecting that this is an insurance scam,” the
