“I mean—radioactive. Looks like something blasted from a building. Steelwork and wiring. Balled up in the air and hurled out here.”
“Is it killing the men?” he asked.
Lenore chuckled and shook her hooded head. “No. They’d be safe even sitting on it, for a matter of a few hours. But I wouldn’t want it in my dining room for good.”
“Cigarette?” Lacey asked.
Lenore unzipped her transparent face protector. “I’d love one! Heaven knows when I had my last one, and I’ve got a list of calls to make”—she jerked her head toward her car—“as long as my arm.” She threw back her hood, inhaled, and said, “Thanks. You look spic and span, Lieutenant.”
Lacey grinned. “This is the third uniform I’ve had on tonight. First one caught fire.
Second one got—bloody….”
“Sorry.”
He said. “Sorry? The devil! Rugged night!”
Lenore took a long look at the seething fire storm. “It is that.”