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Chapter Seven
The following morning, Elise received a call from Officer Cutler.
She took it on the back-porch swing, a cup of coffee in her hand and one of Wayne’s flannels wrapped around her shoulders.
Admittedly, she leaned a little too hard into this other reality.
“Good morning,” she said, after Officer Cutler revealed himself. “How are you doing?”
“Just fine, thanks,” he said.
“And the investigation?”
“Still going through all the clues,” he said. “The place was pretty badly burned up, and we don’t have a lot to go on.”
“Beyond Alex’s opinion that I was the arsonist, of course,” Elise said.
This made Officer Cutler bite his tongue for a moment. Silence hummed between them.
“I called because there’s a letter here for you,” Officer Cutler said. “I wasn’t sure where you’d ended up and wasn’t sure where to send it along.”
A letter?
Elise styled her hair, lined her eyes with eyeliner and mascara, glossed up her lips, then took the now-familiar route to the police station. When she entered, she found Officer Cutler in the midst of a feast: macaroni and cheese, apparently left-over from a meal he’d cooked the girls the night before.
“I’m a mess right now,” he admitted, dotting his lips with a napkin. “It’s the end of the tourist season, and we just don’t have anything to do anymore. I’m filling my time with carbs.”
“Delicious carbs,” Elise said.
Officer Cutler splayed his hand across his stomach and blinked up toward the corner of the office. Behind him hung a photograph Elise hadn’t noticed the day before: he and the rest of the police force, celebrating the end of a hot dog eating contest. Their faces were covered with ketchup and mustard.
“Anyway. You mentioned that you had a letter for me?”
“Right! Right.” Officer Cutler popped up from his chair, turned around and marched toward the far corner. As he turned, Elise spotted several fairy stickers pressed against the back end of his pant leg.
She considered telling him.
But she didn’t want to ruin the joke for the girls.
“Here we are,” Officer Cutler said. He dropped the letter in front of her.
“Fancy envelope,” Elise breathed. She lifted it. The envelope was made of something like parchment, like a mix between paper and linen. It had been closed with a wax seal.
“Yeah, well. He likes to do things a little bit fancier around here. It’s just his way,” Officer Cutler added absently.
“Whose way?”
“Dean Swartz’s.”
Elise’s throat closed up. She turned the envelope again to read her name—written out in what looked like professional penmanship.Elise.Did he know? Had Alex told him what she was up to?
“I’m sure he just feels guilty about the fire,” Officer Cutler said. “He’s a busy man, but he’s never too busy to add a personal touch.”
“Thank you,” Elise said as she stood. The letter shook in her quivering hands. “And let me know again if there’s anything I can do for the investigation.”
“Of course.” Officer Cutler stabbed his fork again into his macaroni, chewed contemplatively, then added, “By the way. I know about the stickers on my pants. They don’t think I know, but I do. You’re the only person I’ll see today, so you get the full show. When I get home, they’ll each collapse on the ground with giggles. It’s the best part of my day.”
Elise gave Officer Cutler a genuine smile.
