“Not at all.” She pulled the door wide. “The kitchen is at the end of the hall, in the back of the house.”
A faint haze hung below the ceiling as he walked down the corridor, and the scent of smoke intensified the closer he got to the kitchen.
He paused in the doorway to survey the scene.
The wall above the trash can was scorched, as was the ceramic tile underneath—or what he could see of it beneath the residue from the fire extinguisher. But the damage appeared to be confined to that one area.
“It could have been much worse.” Natalie spoke behind him.
“Yes, it could. Opening windows will help the smoke smell dissipate.” He crossed to the back wall and raised the two closest to the location of the fire.
“Natalie, would you like me to open a few throughout the house?” Cara touched her arm.
The older woman patted her hand. “I’d appreciate that, my dear. You’ll get the job done much faster than I would, and the smell is very annoying.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Cara disappeared down the hall.
Shaking her head, Natalie surveyed the kitchen. “What a mess.”
“I can get you the name of a fire remediation company if you like.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t know if it will be necessary. Micah may be able to handle this. Let me ask him first.” She motioned to the kitchen table. “Do you mind if I sit?”
“Not at all.” He walked over and pulled out a chair for her.
“Thank you.” She lowered herself into it, lines of weariness etching her features. “There has been altogether too much excitement around here of late.”
“I hear you.” He took a seat at the table. “My deputy says the fire crew thinks a potholder may be the culprit in tonight’s incident.”
Her brow crinkled. “They told me that too, and it doesn’t make sense. I didn’t burn a potholder, and I certainly didn’t throw one in the trash.”
“Is there anyone else who could have done that?”
“I can’t imagine who. No one other than me had any reason to use a potholder today.” She sighed. “This is most bizarre.”
“Yes, it is.”
She lasered him with a shrewd look. “You’re thinking I did it and don’t remember. Like everyone else here tonight, you’re assuming I’m forgetful because I’m in my eighties.”
That was true—and it wasn’t fair. From what he could tell, Natalie’s mental acuity hadn’t dimmed with age.
He shifted in his seat and backtracked. “I’m sorry if I implied that. The truth is, anyone can have an occasional lapse in memory.”
“Admirable attempt at a save.” Her mouth curved into a wry twist. “But I know what everyone is thinking. And I’m telling you I did not burn a potholder, and I didn’t put one in the trash.”
“Then how do you explain the fire?”
“I can’t. I’m not a detective. Solving puzzles is your job.”
Cara reappeared in the doorway but stopped on thethreshold. “I opened the windows in the living room and study, Natalie. That should be enough to create cross ventilation and move the smell and lingering smoke out.”
“Thank you.”
“Why don’t you join us, Professor Tucker?” Brad stood and motioned to the chair beside Natalie.
After a tiny hesitation, she complied. “Cara is fine. I only use my title on campus, with students.”
