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“Long.” He grinned and shuffled his feet. The warmth of the woodstove in the corner of the living room warded off the chilly evening air. “Mind if I use your restroom?”
She gestured toward the wide staircase to his right. “Upstairs. On your left.”
Taking a minute as he washed his hands, he prepared himself mentally for the task to come. He was here to do a job, not to flirt with Emily’s friend.
Once back downstairs, he found Sam in the kitchen heating up a cast iron skillet.
Turning to him, she asked. “Want a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich?”
“You don’t have to cook for me. I’ll grab something after.”
“If you don’t mind the simple meal, I’m happy to make it. I’m cooking for myself, anyway.”
“In that case, Sure.” He smiled.
A few minutes later, she served up the meal on paper plates and filled tall glasses with a gallon jug of spring water. She grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry and set it on the table between them before sinking into her chair.
“Smells good. Mind if I say grace?”
“No. Go ahead.”
He bowed his head and thanked the Lord for the meal. “How’d work go today?”
“Uneventful for the most part.”
“The most part?”
“We’ve been having some strange drone activity lately. It’s odd given how early in the year it is.”
“It hasn’t been too cold.”
“Midday temps are tolerable, but it gets down right bitter overnight.”
“I’m sure you’re used to it.”
She nodded.
The tension that had remained between them throughout their hike the week before had dissipated, and a comfortable silence settled over them as they ate.
Sam stood when she’d finished eating. After tossing their trash in the garbage can, she turned to him. “Ready to get started?”
“Yep.” He followed her as she led the way down a dimly lit staircase into a finished basement.
She took a seat on the couch in front of a coffee table strewn with documents. “Apologies for the musty papers. I must’ve had water down here at some point.” She gestured to the box beside the table. “The good news is there doesn’t seem to be any mold on the box.”
“That is good, but we could’ve taken them to Staples to make fresh copies if we’d needed to.”
“That might not be a bad idea.”
“Let’s see what we have first.”
He opened the folder he’d brought with him. Handing the top page to her, he said, “This is what my investigator found.”
Sam reached into the box and lifted out the pin. It definitely looks like a match. She handed it to him and grabbed the other items for him to inspect.
“I think this is more than a coincidence. Somehow I doubt there is more than one organization using this same unique blend of letters and design.”
“Unless it was intentionally copied.”
