Page 27 of Burning Caine

“Put this in the shredder.” Harry took the Parker’s Restoration card from Quinn and passed it to Lucy. “You talk a lot, Chapman. Make sure you keep your mouth shut on this claim unless Sam tells you it’s alright.”

Walking back to the Pit, Lucy whispered, “Kind of intense. What were you guys talking about?”

“The Chagall claim.” And so much more. I needed to mull it over and Lucy’s incessant chatter wouldn’t help. “How do you feel about heights?”

“Not good. I went bungee jumping once and thought about sky diving, but couldn’t do it. In the 2000s, there were about two deaths a year from sky diving, although that’s lower than—”

She kept going on skydiving fatality and injury data. The girl never met a statistic she didn’t like, nor apparently one she didn’t memorize.

When she took a breath, I interrupted, “I meant to get up on a house roof. Any problem with those heights?”

“Nah.”

“Do you have sturdy shoes or sneakers?”

“Lots.”

“Alright, focus on the BI system for the rest of the day and tomorrow. I’ll schedule some roof inspections for Thursday and show you the ropes.”

“What about Friday?” She waggled her eyebrows at me. “Can I come with you and learn from your…experience?”

I sighed, running a hand over my face. Two hours for a consult? What would I be doing? Watch him clean the painting? How boring. Or arousing. The way that shirt had circled his biceps had been amazing. And his dark, wavy hair I wanted to run my fingers through. And those jeans. I hadn’t gotten a good look from behind, but—

“You’re blushing!”

I nudged her. It was gentle, but her reflexes were awful, and she collided with one of the tall cubicle walls. She laughed, disarming the scowl I tried to give her.

Chapter 11

Samantha

Wednesdaywasslow.Likethe clock was ticking backwards slow. Two days until I’d see Dr. Antonio again, as long as the police released the Chagall to me. If they didn’t, I’d have to reschedule. Good thing or a bad thing?

When my phone rang, I startled. Those big brown eyes were still distracting me. “Samantha Caine speaking.”

“Heya, Sammy, it’s Jimmy calling. We’re done with your burned painting, so you can come and collect it anytime.”

“Great, I can be there in about an hour.”

He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Quick warning. You’ll have to sign it out from Janelle. She’s in a state over this fire and seeing you won’t help. You may want to send someone else.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” I could do this. Things hadn’t gone well with Janelle last week, but maybe I could make another attempt.

I needed to find a case to transport the Chagall but wasn’t sure where to find them. Lucy was working away on the BI system, but she probably wouldn’t know either. She had headphones in, bobbing her head and dancing in her seat as she typed.

None of the other adjusters were in the office, so I started dialing Hailey’s cell phone. She usually handled the artwork claims, so she was my best bet.

Before I was able to finish, in my computer monitor, I caught the reflection of a man entering the Pit. The man I’d been avoiding the past month. Matt Foster. My ex-husband.

Shit. There was a reason I usually did this work in my truck.

“Sam!”

I put the phone down, took one very deep breath and turned around with the most obviously forced smile I could manage. “Hi, Matt! Long time.”

He put out his arms for a hug, but I remained in my seat until he dropped them. “Where have you been?”

“Working.”