Page 30 of Burning Caine
Samantha
Atthepolicestation,I showed my identification and sat on one of the rigid plastic chairs to wait for Janelle.
I ran both hands over my face and leaned forward. My brain was running on overdrive. This Chagall claim was the most interesting thing I’d dealt with in years. Four red flags on the claim. Two days since seeing Antonio and two days until I saw him again. One stressful visit with Matt.
A few deep breaths to put it all aside and review my conversation with Janelle at the house. This one would go better. There was a chance for us to restart our friendship.
Good thing I’d left Lucy at the office.
“Heya, Sammy!”
I sat up with a start. “Jimmy? I thought I was seeing Janelle?”
“You will. I figured I’d come along as a buffer.”
“She’s that upset?” I stood, grabbed the transport case, and followed him through the secure door out of the waiting room.
He gave an ironic laugh. “You know her. If she’s not upset, she’s dead.”
“She wasn’t always like that.”
“I remember. The job’s jading her, I think.” He led me down a short hallway to a small meeting room.
Janelle was already inside, the bagged painting in front of her. She glared at me and pushed a stack of papers in my direction. “Have a seat, Ms. Caine.”
I put the case on the table and sat.
She looked over to Jimmy. “We won’t be needing your services, Slater.”
Jimmy pulled out a chair and lowered himself into it. “It’s okay. I’m running the investigation. I’ll stay.”
“It’s not okay.” She folded her arms and shifted the glare to him. “My evidence. My meeting. If you’re unclear of whose responsibility it is, read the fucking chain of custody.”
The battle of wills continued for thirty seconds until Jimmy stood. “I need to work on the report anyway.”
Once he was out, Janelle started without batting an eye. “We tested the painting and found it immaterial to our investigation, so we have no reason to retain it any longer.” She pointed out a few items on the paperwork. “You can compare the ID of the paperwork you signed to the ID on the bag, review the condition, etcetera. Then I’ll need you to sign on each line I’ve marked.”
I stood to look over the painting under its plastic cover, pulling out my phone to review the photos I’d taken before Janelle had removed it from the Scotts’ house. They’d mangled it. I flashed the images at her, more irritated than I should have been, but the negativity radiating off her triggered me. “There are obvious brush marks on the front, and it’s even further torn than when we retrieved it from the house. I specifically requested no one turn it over or work on it.”
“No kidding!” She stabbed a finger on the bag. “It says so right here!”
The instructions I’d asked her to pass along were written on the bag. I looked at her again. She wasn’t pissed with me. She was pissed about the investigation.
I dropped back into my seat. “So, what happened?”
“This is a piece of evidence in a police investigation.” She rocked her head side to side, sneering and impersonating someone. “Your concerns about further damage to it are not a top priority.”
I closed my eyes and held up a hand. “I’m lost. You’re angry, the painting’s further damaged, and…what?”
She let out a fierce breath and leaned forward. “I talked to the officer who was checking it out and got a cock-and-bull story about how he treats evidence the way he’s been trained, regardless of whether an art crimes expert provided instructions. Christ, that pushed him even further, like it was a personal insult he wasn’t the expert.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you.” She hooked a thumb toward the door, clear enough. Jimmy. “Suffice to say, we should be keeping it at least another week, but it’s being pushed through.”
“Pushed through?” This was becoming a trend. Everyone was in a hurry to wrap this up.
“This is a homicide investigation until arson is ruled out. Standard procedure. But they’re pushing to close it in record speed.”