They worked like that for the first hour, maintaining careful distance, both physical and emotional. Erin spread her updated technical analyses across Lena's desk while Lena pulled up the facial recognition software on her computer. The conversation stayed strictly professional, broaching topics about witness testimony review, sketch comparison protocols, and database searches.
But as the afternoon wore on, the space between them seemed to compress.
"The sketch is more detailed about his uniform than I’d have expected," Erin said, leaning across the desk to get a better look at Lena's monitor. Her shoulder brushed against Lena's as they both studied the composite image. "Abigail got a good look at how he presented himself."
Lena tried to focus on the screen instead of the familiar scent of Erin's perfume, the same one that had lingered on her sheets that morning. "She said he was carrying something—a bag or container. Something that looked professional."
"That matches what I found at the scene." Erin pulled out photos from the arts center fire. "The accelerant applicationwas too precise for amateur equipment. This person has professional-grade materials."
The facial recognition software churned through official databases while they reviewed Abigail's statement line by line. Middle-aged white male, average height, wearing work clothes that looked official—maintenance or inspection uniforms, she'd thought. Someone who looked like he belonged there.
"Run it against city employee databases," Erin suggested, moving around to Lena's side of the desk to better see the screen. "If he's wearing official-looking work clothes, maybe he actually works for the city."
Suddenly they were close enough that Lena could feel the heat radiating from Erin's body. She forced herself to focus on typing search parameters instead of remembering how those same hands had moved over her skin just last night.
"Building department, public works, utilities," Lena muttered, fingers moving across the keyboard. "Anyone with legitimate access to public buildings."
The first search came back with dozens of matches since the sketch was generic enough that it could describe half the middle-aged men in Phoenix Ridge's employ. But when Lena added the filter for employees with building access credentials, the list narrowed significantly.
"Cross-reference that list with anyone who's had access to Marcus Webb's inspection reports," Erin said, her voice steady but slightly lower than before. "Not just Webb himself, but supervisors, clerks, anyone in the department hierarchy."
Lena found herself watching Erin's reflection in her computer monitor as she worked, the way her brow furrowed in concentration. "The building commissioner's office would have access to all inspection reports. That includes administrative staff, supervisors..."
The refined search populated a list with thirty-four names. Thirty-four men who fit the physical description and had some level of access to Webb's inspection reports over the past three years.
"That's still too many," Lena muttered, scrolling through the list. "We need more specifics."
Erin leaned closer to see the screen, her shoulder brushing against Lena's. "Can you sort by employment status? Current versus former city employees?"
Lena's fingers hesitated over the keyboard, distracted by Erin's proximity and the now familiar scent of her perfume. She forced herself to focus, adding the employment filter. The list reorganized itself with eighteen current employees and sixteen former.
"Look at the termination dates for the former employees," Erin suggested, pointing to the screen. "Are there any patterns?"
Several names clustered around the same timeframe after budget cuts and restructuring from eighteen months ago when the new city administration took over. Others were scattered across different years for various reasons.
"We could start with the ones who left involuntarily," Lena said, highlighting several entries. "Forced resignations, budget eliminations, performance issues, things like that."
"And we can cross-reference their access logs with the fire scenes." Erin pulled out her tablet, her fingers deftly moving across the screen. "See if any of them pulled building reports for the targeted buildings."
They worked through the list methodically, but the database queries were slow and each search took several minutes to process. Around them, the police station grew quieter as the day shift ended and evening took over.
"This is going to take hours," Lena said, rubbing her eyes. They'd been at it for three hours now, coffee cups accumulatingon the desk and case files scattered across every available surface.
"We're making progress though." Erin stretched in her chair, the movement drawing Lena's attention to the curve of her neck. "We have a concrete direction now instead of chasing shadows."
Every time Erin leaned closer to see the screen and every accidental brush of fingers across papers sent heat through Lena. The careful professional distance they'd maintained all afternoon was eroding with the late hour and their increasing isolation in the building.
"We should probably call it a night," Lena said, though she made no move to close the files. "Pick this up tomorrow when we're fresh."
"Probably," Erin agreed, but she didn't start packing her things either.
Outside Lena's office, the station had emptied except for the skeleton night crew. Her door was closed, and they were alone in the pool of light from her desk lamp. The thirty-four names on the computer screen seemed both like progress and an insurmountable obstacle.
"At least we know we're looking in the right direction," Erin said, finally closing her tablet.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with implication. Lena could feel her pulse quickening.
Erin stood first, gathering her papers, but the movement brought her around to Lena's side of the desk again. "We'll figure it out," she said quietly. "We make a good team."
