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My stomach rumbles, reminding me of the dinner waiting for me at home.And someone else is waiting for me at home.I can’t help but think about Harper, and all those curves. The memory is both intoxicating and distracting.
“Can we make this quick, Detective?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Very well then,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Let’s get down to business. I’ve been looking into the bakery fire, as you asked. And it seems your suspicions were right. It wasn’t caused by an oven.”
“What?” I ask, feeling a mix of relief and dread wash over me. Now that Maude has confirmed my suspicions, there’s no denying that Harper may be involved in something much darker than I imagined.
“Here,” she says, pulling out a clear evidence bag from her briefcase and placing it on my desk. Inside are several charred pieces of fabric. “We found trails of burnt fabric coated in lighter fluid throughout the bakery. The fire burned extremely hot—much more heat than any oven could have produced.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, hoping against hope that there’s some other explanation.
“Positive,” Maude replies, her voice firm. “I’ve seen enough fires in my career to know when something doesn’t add up. From my research, it seems that she’s not well off when it comes to money, so my thought is that she wanted to cut a check from her insurance company.”
I pick up the evidence bag, the weight of the charred remains heavy in my hand. My heart races as I remember the destruction this fire caused.
Harper really did this?
The weight of the news sits heavy on my shoulders as I turn to face Maude again. Her gray eyes bore into mine, unwavering and serious.
“Unfortunately, I have to inform the insurance company about the likelihood of fraud,” she says, her voice void of any emotion. “It’s protocol in cases like this.”
“Fraud?” My stomach drops as I repeat the word. It feels sharp and cold, cutting through the air between us.
“Someone deliberately set that fire, and who else would have a motive?” She pauses, a barely there furrow forming between her brows. “I’m just presenting you with the facts.”
She’s right. I’m the one in denial because I became personally involved.
My mind races, struggling to reconcile the image of the beautiful, passionate woman I had sex with and the possibility that she could be a criminal. “Would a confession help your case?” I ask.
“Of course it would,” Maude replies, her thin lips pressed into a firm line.
“Give me some time to talk to her,” I say, determination surging through me. “I’ll find out the truth.”
“Alright, Antonio. But don’t let your personal feelings get in the way.”
“Have I ever?”
Has she been playing us?What if everything she’s said and done has been a lie, a ploy to win my trust and use me?
And why do I find that so hard to believe? I used to always think someone was guilty until proven innocent, but when it comes to Harper, it’s as if my brain can’t comprehend that she’d do something so heinous.
“Can you leave the evidence here with me? I want to go over it before I confront her.” My fingers drum on the desk, eager to find answers.
“Of course.” She hands over the bag containing the burnt fabric. “Just make sure it stays safe.”
“Understood.”
With a nod, Maude turns and leaves my office. I watch her disappear down the hallway, the click of her heels echoing until they fade away.
I glance down at the bag in my hands, feeling the weight of its implications. Memories of Harper flood my mind—the taste of her lips, the feel of her body beneath mine—and now doubt creeps in, casting a shadow over those moments.
I shake my head, dispelling the thoughts for now.
“Focus, Antonio,” I mutter to myself, opening the bag and examining the charred remains. The smell of smoke still clings to the fabric, a reminder of how close Harper came to losing everything.
As I study the evidence, I wonder what drove her to this point. Was it desperation? Greed?
I slam my fist on the desk, frustration boiling over. No, I can’t let this uncertainty cause me to lose my focus.
