Page 56 of Burning Caine

“What’s the date of occurrence?”

“December 12, 2015.”

Bingo! “Cause of loss is theft, isn’t it?”

“Nope, ice damage to the roof.”

“Dammit!” I paced on the side of the highway, as cars and trucks whizzed by me. I couldn’t let go of this case until I had answers, but all I was finding was more questions.

“Aren’t you done for the day?”

“Yeah, I’m—I’m still frustrated about this thing. Never mind me, I need to get going anyway. Thanks for the help.”

Chapter 23

Samantha

Thenextmorning,myphone rang with a call from Lucy. “There’s a police officer who wants to see you, an Officer Williams.”

My jaw clenched. “What does she want?”

“I don’t know. Said it’s police business, and you can either talk to her at our office or at the police station.”

“Unbelievable.” I rolled my eyes, staring at the laptop in my mobile office. After my encounter with Antonio the day before, I didn’t have the energy for anything outside my job. I hadn’t even been to the office yet. I shut everything down, knowing I’d have to hurry to talk to Janelle and still make my next appointment.

“I put her in the Pines. How far away are you?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

Once I arrived at the office, I headed straight to the Pines. I counted back from five, took a slow breath, and opened the door. She was in uniform, pacing, a thick folder in her hands, not bothering to stop when I came in.

“What’s up, Janelle?”

“Did you read the report Slater put together?” She slammed the folder on the table. “It’s a load of horseshit!”

“No?”

“Your company paid the damn claim out, Sam! How can you not have read the report?”

“I only have the artwork portion of the claim.”

“And you told me you were getting pressure on it, right?”

“Right, but the restoration company only started on it Monday.”

She ran both her hands over her close-cropped hair, just like she used to, even when she’d had long hair. She stopped pacing, opened the folder, flipped through a few pages, and stabbed at it with her finger. “Read this page.”

I frowned, irritated to be called in for this tirade when I had so much other work to do. But she was looking for help, despite her attitude, and I wanted to make amends.

I leaned over the page to read. It was a summary of findings, listing the highest-level details:

In preparation for the room being painted, the canvas tarp had been spread over the couches, floor, and other furniture in the living room.

Before the painters could get started, Mrs. Scott told them to leave because she had an emergency to deal with.

They left the tarp, their paints, and tools in the living room, as they would be back the next day.

I looked up from the report, at Janelle. If the art claim had been valid, I would have run this down further, in case we had action based on one of the policy conditions not being fulfilled during their remodeling. But I put it aside because my gut told me the painting was a fake, so that remained my focus.