From the way Adam was gritting his teeth, Beverly could tell the closer she and Adam got to the scene of the Vintage Vibes fire, the antsier he got. She didn’t want to put him in a difficult position. But damn it—she needed to see the scene of the crime. In the past, before she’d started in on one of her cons, she’d always liked to know exactly what she was dealing with. This wasn’t all that different, was it? And he’d promised.
A few blocks from the site, Adam got a phone call from Jinks. When he hung up, he told Beverly, “An insurance rep from the victim’s policy is already at the scene. I called the office to clear it first. Quinn said the fire investigation team had gathered most of the evidence they could, so it should be fine. As long as I supervise.”
“Then, our timing is perfect.”
“It would appear so. But a word of warning, Beverly. There might still be hot pockets of flames. And even though the scene’s been mostly released, I’d like to avoid any further contamination. Just in case.”
When they arrived, a blonde woman with what looked like an expensive Canada goose-down coat, with matching feathery hairstyle, was taking photos with a professional DSLR camera. She introduced herself as Jenny-Lee Salant. Beverly wrinkled her nose as the other woman stood next to Adam and smiled up at him while batting her eyelashes.
Salant nodded toward burned-out husk. “I’ve taken hundreds of photos and made measurements. I’m also going to get a report from the fire chief. When it’s ready.”
“Sounds like more work than a typical insurance claim.”
“My office is concerned this is a fraud case since the policy was new. I haven’t spoken with the victim’s heir, the sister, directly yet. Or even the victim’s staff, particularly his assistant, Lucas Barratt. But I will. Soon.”
She moved to stand so close to Adam, they were almost conjoined twins. “You’ll let us know if they find anything that’s linked to fraud, I hope?”
“Of course.”
Salant said, “This is so reminiscent of the Garone arson. You’ve probably heard of it, the Main Street Antiques fire up in Woodstock.”
“You’re involved with that one, too?”
“Indeed, we are. On the surface, I haven’t found any fraud. Yet. But there’s a reason they call me ‘Bulldog Salant.’”
Beverly almost gagged at that one but smiled sweetly at the other woman. “I find it hard to believe Jared Lake would commit insurance fraud and then kill himself before he could get any money.”
Salant frowned. “Maybe he didn’t plan on that happening. Or got careless. Or it was his sister who set the fire and made a mistake. Who knows?”
Adam partially agreed with her, saying, “There might have been an accidental component.”
Beverly almost smacked him. Was he trying to flirt with a woman who actually wore three-inch heeled boots to an arson scene? She’d thought better of him than that.
Salant said, “I’m kind of sorry to see a couple of items burned in the fire that were listed on his insurance inventory sheet. Like a rare French antique art nouveau bakelite cicada brooch pin, circa 1900s. And this whimsical little 1890s beetle bug playing a mandolin.”
At Adam’s raised eyebrow, she added, “My brother’s an entomologist.”
Adam smiled. “Jewelry bugs are the best kind.”
“That’s what I tell him. He can have the others.”
“Good thing your brother doesn’t study bakelite beetles. Bakelite plastics don’t burn, but if cracked, that plastic can release toxic formaldehyde and asbestos.”
Salant replied, “Then I take back my admiration for that little mandolin-playing figure. It can stay lost.”
Tired of having to focus on the plastic-woman, Beverly turned her attention to the blackened frame before her with its charred wood and twisted metal frame. The bleak starkness of the scene was bad enough. But it also gave her a twinge in the gut as she thought of the unfortunate Jared Lake.
When she saw the glint of sunlight on something half-buried under some rocks several feet away from the building, she headed over. Very gently, she pulled it out from under the pile. It looked like almost like an ashtray with an octopus attached—and was it wearing goggles? It was a curious, but rather ugly little thing.
Salant startled her when she said over Beverly’s shoulder, “What’s that?”
Beverly showed it to her, but Salant wrinkled her nose. “Not worth much. It’s even dented.”
Guess that meant Beverly could pocket the item, then. A reminder of the man, his store, his life, and something else she couldn’t quite identify. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to keep it, but she did.
When Salant seemed satisfied she’d taken all the photos she needed, she gave Beverly a curt nod. But she made sure to grab Adam’s hand and hold on to it in a way that didn’t seem entirely professional. Salant said, “Hope to hear from you soon, Adam. Call any time.” And there went the batted eyelashes again.
When she’d finally left, Beverly huffed. “She seemed quite taken with you.”
He shrugged. “Insurance reps do whatever they can to get cops to give them ammunition. So their company doesn’t have to pay out. Don’t read anything special into it.”
“I wasn’t. Just seemed unprofessional.”
Adam gave her a sharp look and said, “Getting close to noon. Weekends are BOGO day at the Crossroads Café. Hungry?”
Her stomach rumbled, and she was surprised to realize she was ravenous. Maybe not surprising since she’d skipped breakfast. They headed straight for the café, and as they walked in, she was relieved to see they’d beaten the lunch crowd.
They placed their orders and ate in companionable silence for a bit until Adam asked, “Thought any further about buying a place or getting a job around these parts?”
“You may recall what I told you when we discussed this before. No résumé and no references. Ten years without a ‘real’ job. Who’d want me?”
“Both Harlan and Agnes, for starters. I’m sure they’d welcome the help and would pay you well for it.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose. And I’m not all that keen on being dependent on someone else for money.”
She did a quick mental calculation of the funds still sitting in her Seychelles bank account. Her wheeling-and-dealing had made it possible for her to live a nomadic existence with enough money for room and board. But if she didn’t keep up that con-woman life, those funds wouldn’t last forever.
Adam replied, “There’s the whole private eye thing we talked about, too. Since you love disguises and acting so much.”
“Me and Cray. I can see it up on the nameplate. Laborde and Querry Investigations.”
“You’d get top billing?”
“Naturally.”
Adam chuckled. “I do believe you could tame that hulking bear-of-a-shamus into submission.”
She took a bite of her chicken wrap. The chipotle-mayo sauce was tangy, spicy, and a little bit . . . smoky. “Going back to the arsons, we need to focus on Ivon Kozak.”
“We?”
“The police, of course,” she half-lied.
“The only information I even have about the guy and his shady NAL connections come from Mr. X.”
“Then I think we need to visit Mr. X again and find out more. After all, when I called the car rental agency, they said my SUV wasn’t quite ready for pickup.”
Adam mused, “I still don’t know what to think about Xenakis.”
“Oh, he’s harmless enough. Now, anyway.”
Adam just shook his head
Beverly wasn’t about to tell Adam of the conversations she’d had with Mr. X concerning some of the less-than-legal behavior he’d engaged in while under the employ of her grandfather—before Xenakis got out in disgust. Or about the time she’d seen him K.O. a thug with what he called shuto, or a knifehand strike, that he said, “can be deadly . . . when you want it to be.”
She’d be the first to admit she knew very little about the man’s past. But then, most people knew very little about hers. Maybe that’s why she liked him so much. They were two islands adrift in a sea of sharks just wanting to be left alone.
After they’d finished their quick bite and returned to the car, Beverly decided she didn’t like the troubled look on Adam’s face. So she reached over to dial up a local rock station and cranked up the volume. Jinks had once told Beverly that Adam hated the electric-guitar screeching of heavy metal. Beverly said, “You like Metallica, right?”
In reply, he glared at her, and she just laughed.