Page 57 of Burning Caine
Janelle was pacing again, and I shot her a quizzical look. I sat and continued reading:
At the same time, someone from their security alarm company was in the process of upgrading their system.
The installer had removed the original control panel, which severed the connection to the central station.
That was the point when Mrs. Scott told him to leave as well.
The fire had started in the living room when Mr. Scott fell and dropped a cigarette on the painters’ tarp.
With the security system disconnected, the fire burned for an estimated twenty minutes before a neighbor reported it.
“Jimmy told me they didn’t find any evidence of arson?”
“Right. We had an accelerant dog check the place, and he didn’t find anything beyond the painters’ paints and tools. Arson investigator didn’t find anything, either.” She stopped pacing and sat at the table.
“And no evidence of foul play?”
“Right again. Looks like an accident.”
“So…what do you want from me?”
“Do you buy it?”
I tapped my finger a few times on the table and finally shook my head. “Sounds suspicious. Too coincidental. Painters and security installer both leaving at the precise moment they’re set up for the perfect fire?”
“Exactly!” She exploded out of her chair. “At least someone’s with me!”
“Why’s the case closed?”
“Slater’s a moron.” Hands on hips, she huffed. “And like I told you already, the evidence bears it out. But I don’t like coincidences.”
“Here’s what I’d be asking: One, what was her emergency? Two, why not let the painters either clean up their stuff or work while she was out? A family like that wouldn’t hire unbonded workers. Three, same question for the security installer.”
“Again!” She sat suddenly. “Exactly!”
“So, why are you here talking to me about this?”
She blew out some steam and pursed her lips. “Because I don’t have any other option. I know something went on in that house. I can feel it in my bones. But the evidence points to an accident, so the Chief won’t authorize money or manpower for any additional investigation. AmLife and Foster have closed their claims, based on our report. That leaves you.”
I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. “Leaves me for what?” But I already knew the answer.
“To figure this out. Why hasn’t your claim closed yet?”
“Due diligence.”
“Details?”
“You remember what the painting looked like when we found it? It was insured for a million dollars. To pay it out, we have to compare the remnants to the photos we have on file. It’s a time-consuming process.”
She nodded slowly. “So you were pissed about how our guys handled it?”
“Yeah. I have someone working on it, but he estimated it would take a month.”
“So, we have until the end of August.”
“We?”
“Okay, you.” She balled her fists on the table. “I can’t touch it or the Chief will have my hide. I’ll leave the full report with you, but my recommendation would be to start with—”