Page 26 of Burning Caine
Lucy nodded. “Who get by on their charm?”
Quinn pointed at her. “Precisely. Tell them what you found.”
“The owner, Parker, is the curator’s ex-husband. Divorced—”
“Fifteen years,” added Quinn.
“Right. She’s trying to bolster his business. The work was alright, but not up to our standards. Ferraro’s remains our recommended restoration company.”
“That in mind—” It was like Quinn and Harry shared a brain, the way they went back and forth, finishing each other’s sentences. “—like Harry said, watch them on the one-month contract. Proving the painting’s the real one or a fake should be straight-forward, given the supporting evidence we have, so Ferraro’s Restoration just needs to do its job.”
Harry clicked his pen a few more times at me. “I talked to a friend on the force. Said they expect their case will close quickly and the fire will be ruled accidental. What did you see when you were in the house? Did it feel accidental to you?”
I looked from Harry to Quinn and back again. My opinion on this didn’t matter; it was up to the authorities.
Harry turned to Lucy. “Can you give us about ten minutes?”
Lucy furrowed her brow and checked with me. At my nod, she got up and left. What was going on?
Quinn rolled her chair closer and leaned forward, voice down. “Sam, you spot fraud like it’s second nature to you. You’ve barely been here a month, and you’ve already caught five. Some adjusters go years before that happens. So, either you’re involved in them, it’s a coincidence, or there’s more to you than meets the eye.”
I tapped my finger on the table and crossed my legs. “So, you did a little digging?” My focus turned to Harry, who picked up their verbal tennis match.
“You have a masters in Criminal Justice and speak at least five languages I’m aware of. The FBI assigned you to a high-profile art crimes case in Boston. And yet—”
“Poof.” Quinn flicked her fingers open. “You left to become a property claims adjuster?”
They both stared at me like I was supposed to answer—provide clarification—but it was none of their business. “You don’t like not knowing things, do you?”
They both grinned.
“What’s the actual question?”
“Well, hun, I’d love to pick your brain sometime. But I don’t talk about my past, either, so I understand. So here it is. One, you can stop by to discuss any theories or doubts on any claim you have. Anytime. Two, I want you working with us—”
“Quinn, no recruiting.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Three, the system only put one red flag on this artwork claim, for its value. One flag means the adjuster needs to be cautious. We think there should have been more, but the FNOL wasn’t entered correctly. The property claim listed the fatality, but the artwork claim didn’t. That would have been a second flag.”
Harry said, “Two flags requires Roger’s approval prior to payment.”
They rolled their chairs closer, in unison, Harry lowering his voice further. “Three flags would have sent it straight to us. Any thoughts on what the third flag should have been?”
I tapped my fingers on my mouth, speaking out loud as I went through possibilities. “Life insurance isn’t with us. No recent mid-term changes to the policy to inflate its value. Total loss could have been it? Hard to prove the authenticity of a painting which was completely burned.”
Quinn winked at me and sat back. “That’s one, and—”
“There’s one more. Check in when you figure it out.” Harry rolled back to his desk. “You’ve got this, Sam. We have confidence in your work. Keep us in the loop, either in person or with your claim notes.”
I nodded and stood. “Thanks for your help.”
Quinn tapped me on the arm before I could leave. “And Sam, keep those claim notes private, alright?”
Private? Was someone at Foster under suspicion? “Including from Lucy?”
Lucy rounded the corner. “Ten minutes are up! Did I miss anything interesting?”