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Laura hadn’t seen much of the Flanagans for several days, and nothing at all of Ryan. She ran the paint roller smoothly along the downstairs wall, admiring the rich burgundy she’d decided on after researching the original colors.
The floor refinishing had gone beautifully, and now that she could get the paint on the walls, this area was really shaping up. It would be perfect for a small shop catering to the visitors in the historic district or a lovely living room for a buyer who wanted a private home.
Nolie Flanagan had enthused about the color when she’d stopped by earlier. She’d come with an invitation for Mandy to visit the farm and see the animals.
Laura had been evasive. Mandy would love to see the animals, of course, but she couldn’t help thinking it was better not to get too involved with the Flanagan family. She didn’t want to be anyone’s object of charity, no matter how sincere they were.
She frowned at the fresh paint. She ought to be honest with herself, at least. The truth was that she should stay away from them because she found herself far too attracted to Ryan’s easy smile for her peace of mind.
All she could concentrate on right now was Mandy’s welfare. There was no room in her life for anything else. She was happy Ryan hadn’t been around. So why did she feel so out of sorts?
She glanced at her watch. The plasterers were supposed to be here by now to do the third-floor walls. That was one thing she hadn’t felt competent to tackle herself. She put down the roller and stretched. Maybe she’d better take a break and call the plasterer.
Five minutes later she returned the phone to the cradle carefully, because if she didn’t, she just might throw the receiver against the wall. She clutched her hair with her hands, heedless of the paint she was probably spreading around, and squeezed her eyes closed. What else could possibly go wrong?
“What’s the matter?” The voice came like an echo of her thoughts.
She swung around, blinking back tears. She wouldn’t give in to that weakness, especially not in front of Ryan.
“Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.” And why did she always have to look like a total wreck whenever Ryan saw her?
He crossed the room toward her, his gaze fixed on her face. “Something’s wrong. What?”
She shook her head, appalled at how glad she was to see him. “Plasterers. They were supposed to show up today. Instead they’re suddenly so busy that they can’t possibly squeeze me in for at least a couple of weeks.”
“You can’t wait a couple of weeks?”
“Impossible. I have to get this done.” She could hear her voice veering out of control, and she couldn’t seem to help it. “If I’m not finished by the time my prospective buyer comes, she’ll go elsewhere. And Mandy’s surgery—”
She stopped, fighting for control. She wasn’t going to spill all her troubles to Ryan, no matter how sympathetic he was.
And then he touched her shoulder gently, and all her resolve disappeared. She choked on a sob, and he pulled her against him.
“Don’t.” She tried ineffectually to move away.
“You’ll get paint on your shirt.”
“It’ll clean.” His arms were strong around her, demanding nothing, just offering support. He stroked her back in gentle circles, reminding her of the way she comforted Mandy. “Just relax. You don’t have to be a superhero all the time.”
She wanted to protest that she did, but it was so comforting to stand in his embrace, feeling the tension easing out of her at his touch. His lips brushed her temple.
That touch brought her to her senses. She sucked in a breath and drew back, still in the circle of his arms. “Sorry. I don’t usually do that.”
“You’re allowed.” His gaze probed. “Let me get this straight. You need the money from the sale of the property to pay for Mandy’s surgery.”
She nodded, pulling herself free and turning away from that intent gaze. “The insurance we have doesn’t cover a cochlear implant.”
“If you waited on the surgery until you’re in better shape financially—”
“No.” Again her tone veered upward, and she fought to control it. “We’re not going to wait. The longer Mandy goes without the implant, the harder it will be. She starts school in September. I have to give her every chance at a hearing life. I have to.”
“Okay.” He probably hoped that calm tone of his would soothe her. “Seems like the first step is to get a plasterer in here, ASAP.”
She was glad he’d given her an excuse to be annoyed with him. “I never thought of that.”
He grinned. “Sarcasm will get you nowhere, lady. It just so happens one of my high-school buddies recently took over his father’s plastering business. I’ll call him.”
“He’ll probably be booked solid. They all are.” It had taken her weeks to find someone, and Ryan proposed to do it with a single call.
“Trust me, he’ll fit you in. I know too much about him for him to say no to me.”
Hope flickered in spite of her doubts. “That would be wonderful.”
“Looks like it’s a good thing I stopped by today, although I didn’t have plasterers in mind.”
“Why did you come, then?”
“I thought you’d want to know.” His smile broadened. “I got the call. I’ve been assigned to the arson squad on a probationary basis.”
“Ryan, congratulations. That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, it is. I didn’t realize how much I wanted this until it came through. I’m going to be working with Garrett North. He’s tough, but he’s the best.”
He was as enthusiastic as a kid with a new toy, and she couldn’t help smiling with him.
“I take it you’ve told your family. How are they taking it?”
He waggled his hand. “So-so. Not as bad as I thought, actually.”
“That’s good. I’m really happy for you.”
“Well, there’s something you should know before you get too happy.” The sudden serious turn of his expression made her nerves tighten in response.
“What is it?” Something told her she wouldn’t like his answer.
“I’ve been assigned to my first investigation. It’s here.” He gestured. “Your fire wasn’t an accident. It was arson.”
Chapter Four
Laura could only stare at Ryan, her mind slowly processing his words. The fire here. Arson.
She finally found the words. “Someone deliberately set the fire? That’s impossible.” She couldn’t believe it. He had to be wrong about this.
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear news like that. Nobody does.”
She was shaking her head, as if that would change his opinion. Groping for another explanation.
“You said yourself that the construction debris was a hazard on the back porch. Remember? It must have been an accident.”
It must have been, because the alternative was too frightening to think about.
“Look, let’s sit down and talk about this.” He touched her arm, nodding toward the stairs. “You’re having a lot of stuff thrown at you lately. I’m sorry to add to it.”
He sounded like Bradley Potter with his list of bad news. She shook off the thought. Unlike Bradley, Ryan was just leveling with her. She ought to appreciate that, even if she thought he was wrong.
She let him pilot her to the stairwell, and they sat on the worn wooden treads. Deep burgundy stair carpeting, she thought automatically. She’d already picked it out.
But she couldn’t waste time daydreaming about something that was already done. She had to face this new problem rationally.
“What makes you and this other investigator think it was arson?” She didn’t even like saying the word, with its implication of malice.
“We know an accelerant was spread around the porch.” He said the words slowly, as if to be sure she understood. “It leaves traces.”
“An accelerant.”
“Probably paint thinner.” He glanced toward the open paint cans in the front room. “Do you have any around?”
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