“I really like what you’ve done with your greeting committee.” The angelic sound of Laurel’s voice temporarily erased all the frustrations of his day thus far. “Of course, he might’ve smelled the scones.”
“Scones?” Chase perked up. “What kind of scones?”
“Blueberry.”
His favorite. Though, they were most locals’ favorite because Bonita picked the blueberries herself. Every bakery item she sold was moan-worthy delicious, but her blueberry scones were on a level all their own. They could make a man forget his name, they werethatgood. “Pull up a seat.”
Laurel set the bag of scones on his desk and went for a chair. “You finish your report?”
“You’re the third person to ask me that today. Fourth if you count the adjuster bugging Glenn about it.” He watched Laurel break off a corner of her scone, jealous of the crumbs that grazed her lips. He wanted to forget about the report, about the scones, about reality, and draw her into his arms.
More than anything, he wanted their old life back the way it was before everything went south. They couldn’t recover their loss, but they could try again. He definitely wanted to try again.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she teased.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some kind of dessert.”
“You’re better than a dessert, sweetheart.”
He tucked his victorious smile out of sight at her blush and enlarged the scene photos on his monitor. “I’m getting more pressure to get this turned in. I shouldn’t be sharing these with you, but you’re the only one who thinks I’m onto something. Maybe you can spot something I missed.”
What he really wanted was an excuse for Laurel to scoot closer, and she did. But Zeus crawled awkwardly into her lap, wobbling a bit on his paws as he balanced his fifty-pound frame on her thighs until he curled into a steady ball, ignoring any objections from Chase about being a lap dog. Laurel didn’t mind a bit. Once settled, she stroked Zeus’ neck, leaning over him slightly to study the photos.
“I wish I knew what I was looking for.”
“Anything that jumps out. Anything that seems odd to you.” Their knees brushed, and Laurel didn’t pull away from his touch. He pretended not to notice as he leaned closer to the monitor, pointing out the different things he’d noted from the scene. They spent over an hour combing through photos, enlarging areas at times when she thought she caught a glimpse of something odd, but ultimately coming up empty.
“I don’t think you’re wrong,” Laurel said. “But I don’t know if you’re going to find anything to back you up. Whoever did this must’ve thought it through. Covered their tracks.”
“Tracks,” he muttered with an annoyed shake of his head. “The ground’s so dry up there that even the tracks from fighting the fire didn’t stick. I searched the woods nearby. Nothing. No tracks in there, no discarded kerosene containers. Not even any trash since the high school track team cleaned the area two weeks ago.”
“Guessing the fire burned everything inside the cabin, then?”
Chase reached for the Ziploc-bagged items on the opposite side of the monitor. “All I have are some scraps of paper so small I can’t tell what they’re from. And a lipstick case. Chief laughed himself hoarse over that one.”
Laurel took the clear bag with the black and silver lipstick dispenser in it, examining it closer. “This is expensive.”
A beacon of hope hit Chase squarely in the chest at Laurel’s interest, but he didn’t dare get too excited. “Expensive, how?”
“This black part, that’s crocodile leather.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Where did you find it, exactly?”
Chase zoomed in on one of the photos, pointing to the pile of rubble near where the only door in and out of the cabin used to be. “I figured it was far enough away from the hottest point of the fire to melt. But knowing it’s leather…it takes a lot to burn real leather. Crocodile, you said?” Throat dry from the scones, Chase reached for a mostly empty bottle of water, intending to drain it.
“Yeah. They make these in France, I think. I’ve never bought one myself. They’re like three hundred dollars.”
Chase nearly spit out his water, choking on the last bit of it. Zeus looked up in concern, whining softly and licking his hand until he got himself under control. “Threehundred, you said?”
“Yeah. See those double hearts? That’s the emblem for the brand. I can’t remember the name offhand, but I can look it up. I doubt a hitchhiker would’ve had this on them. You can’t resell it or anything. It’s lipstick.” Laurel made a gross face, causing him to chuckle. “Anyway, I think this is your important clue.”
His heavy sigh drew her full attention. “Anyone could’ve dropped that there in the last ten years.”
She lifted the bag, holding the silver bottom of the lipstick canister up for them to see together. “They usually inscribe the year—yep, there it is. This one was made thisyear.” The way Laurel lit up with excitement made him wish this piece of evidence was important. He didn’t want to rob her of that joy. “I guess you don’t have a way to see who purchased expensive lipstick, huh?”
