Page 53 of Burning Caine
“Zoom in on the signature,” I said.
Once the section was enlarged, I gestured to a haze hanging over it. “This is an old layer of varnish. It shows up as this green; you can see it over the signature and the background. It says to me the varnish was applied after the signature paint.” I stood up straight, knowing there was nothing more I needed to see.
She swiveled the chair to face me. “Can you take a similar picture of the burned one?”
“Sì, we can, but not yet.” The two best photos for proof would be the x-ray or the infrared, but I hadn’t cleaned enough of the debris for either of those. The corner with the signature had some promise under ultraviolet but it wouldn’t be conclusive. All the same, it would show progress. “The dirt and soot would stop me from getting a good shot. I need to spend some more time with it. Then we can determine if the signature is flaking because the varnish was damaged in the fire or not.”
“How much time do you think you’ll need?”
“Between our backlog and committed contracts, I can only do a couple of hours a day. But I promise I’ll do some every day. You will owe me after this for all the overtime I’m doing.”
She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the file list in the claims system. “I wonder…Jimmy!”
“Jimmy?”
“An old friend of mine wrote the police report. I’ll call him with some questions.”
“Anything interesting?”
“Not really.” She leaned back in the chair. “If it’s a fake, maybe it was stolen and replaced? I’ll call and ask a few questions.”
As she rolled the chair back, I stood and held out a hand to help her up.
She waved it off. “I’m good. Thanks for calling.”
“Prego, you are welcome.”
“You know you don’t have to translate for me, right?”
“Old habits.”
Her eyes twinkled as she raised an eyebrow. “Like telling me I’ll owe you for doing your job? You really can’t turn it off, can you?”
“Oh, the lady strikes first this time.” I put a dramatic hand on my chest.
“Anyway, thanks for starting on this. It’s going to be a long road, isn’t it?”
“I make no promises, Samantha, except to do my best.”
“You already told me you’re the best, right?” She smacked me gently in my chest, and her eyes lingered on the spot longer than they should have.
“I am.” I winked and flashed her a provocative smirk. “You shall see soon enough.”
“Alright.” She rolled her eyes, making her way around the desk, toward the chair where she’d thrown her jacket. For a moment, her eyes drifted over the bookshelves, and I thought she might stop to peruse. “If there’s nothing else, I’m heading out for that ride.”
I followed her, taking in the dramatic view. The leather pants were breathtaking on her round ass, and my soul cried as she slid on the jacket, covering those magnificent arms. I leaned against the desk, crossing my ankles and folding my arms.
“Let me know when you’ve made some more progress. I’m interested in the ultraviolet results.”
“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” I sighed dramatically, eliciting a laugh from her.
She stopped at the door and turned to look at me, rolling her eyes. But she smiled and finished the line fromRomeo and Juliet. “That I shall say good night till it be morrow.” She bowed slightly and gave a flourish with her hand.
“You ride a motorcycle and climb rocks. Yet, you can pick out a sixteenth-century Baroque painting, and you finish my Shakespeare. You are a mystery to me, Samantha Caine.”
The corner of her mouth rose slightly, launching a sea of butterflies to swirl about my stomach. She was as brilliant as she was beautiful. “I’m a pretty simple girl, in the end.”
I gripped the edge of the desk to hold myself in place. “Not in the slightest, I think.”