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He quickly sits beside me, using the coffee table to scribble the information given to him on the same scrap of paper. I lean over him so I can see what he writes. ‘Enterprise International, LLC.’ I jump to my feet when I see that name.
“That’s all for now, thanks,” he says and ends the call.
“That’s the company name on the Cayman bank statements I found in Christopher’s safe deposit box!” I say, louder than I intended.
Jack smiles at my excitement. “Then that ties the arsonist to Christopher, which helps, but it doesn’t reveal who the arsonist actually is,” he says.
“That’s true,” I say on a sigh as I sink back down on the couch beside him.
“Every little piece of the puzzle helps. Don’t get discouraged,” he says, patting my leg.
We’ve been at this for hours. Breakfast is long gone, and it’s already past lunch time. “We should eat,” I say, motioning towards the kitchen.
A knock on the door draws our attention, and Jack moves to answer it. “Who is it?” he asks without opening the door.
“It’s Charlie,” she says sweetly.
Jack quickly opens the door, letting Charlie inside. She has take-out bags in each hand. I don’t know what they contain, but they smell delicious.
“What are you doing back here?” I ask, as if it’s not obvious.
“Irene sent me to grab lunch for you two. She said she could smell the burnt breakfast from this morning, and I may have told her about the burnt taco shells from a few nights ago.” She laughs.
Jack and I look at each other then back at Charlie before laughter erupts from us, too.
“Well, thank her for us, and thank you for bringing it over,” Jack says.
Charlie sets the bags down on the kitchen table. Jack and I follow her, taking seats at the table.
“Will do and no problem. I’m happy to do it,” she replies, pulling to-go boxes from the bags. She went with Mexican food again. No complaints here because you can’t go wrong with it.
Jack and I dig in. We offered to share with Charlie, but she refused since she had a pastry or three after the breakfast rush this morning. I’m surprised there were any left. We usually sell out.
“Were you able to get any leads on the guy that set the fire?” Charlie asks curiously, taking a seat across from me.
“We were able to link the car the arsonist was driving to Christopher. It was rented under the name of a company Christopher owns,” I say, taking a bite of a chimichanga.
“How did you find the car?” Charlie asks.
“Jack pulled up footage from cameras around town. I recognized the car from one of the cameras. Jack saved an image and manipulated it enough to make out the tag number,” I answer proudly.
“Way to go, Jack!” Charlie cheers, offering her hand for a high-five.
Jack rolls his eyes and humors her with a high-five. “This is literally my job; I do this every day. It’s not magic,” he says with an amused laugh.
“It’s a skill, and you do it well,” I correct, eyeing him.
He only gives me a grateful look before returning to eating tacos.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Charlie asks in a hopeful voice.
Reaching across the table, I give her hand a squeeze. “Youarehelping. You’re helping me lay low, you always come to the rescue with food, and you’re always my listening ear. I appreciate it more than you know.” I hope she believes just how much she’s helping me.
She gives an exaggerated huff before a grin breaks. “Fine,” she says. “I better get back to the café anyway. Irene Is covering by herself.”
She stands and rounds the table, hugging me goodbye. She gives Jack a wave as she heads out the front door. He follows her over and locks the door behind her.
After Charlie’s gone, we finish eating, clean up, and then lay on the sofa together, where we remain for most of the rest of the day. Jack is on his side, his arm stretched under my head. I’m in front of him on my back, his legs bent with my legs draped over his. My own Jack cocoon; I’m safe here.
