“What prompted your call today?”
She turned her head, looking almost surprised to see him. “Okay, but first you should know Investigator Durvan came to see me this morning.” She snagged another fry and offered it. He took it like a fish took bait. “He said he needed to tie up a few loose ends.”
An uneasy sensation moved in Noah’s gut. “What were they?”
“All the same questions he asked the first time, about the night of the fire.”
“What questions did he press you on?”
“That’s just it.” She reached for the final fry. “He didn’t seem to know what to make of my answers.”
“He admitted that?”
“Not exactly.” She dragged the fry back and forth through the ketchup. “I once made a living projecting emotions through attitude and body language. Believe me. Investigator Durvan isn’t sure about squat.” She popped the fry into her mouth.
Noah smirked. He could just imagine Durvan’s reaction to being told his give-nothing-away attitude had been breached by a former lingerie model.
“Did he ask about me?”
“You mean, if I helped you start the fire?”
Noah did a double take. “He asked you that?” Durvan had pressed him with that question in the hospital. But he thought he’d dropped that line of questioning.
Carly’s generous mouth flattened into a thin line. “We had a moment. He tried to bring up some old mess about my husband’s death. I questioned his ability to conduct an impartial investigation.”
“How did Durvan respond?”
She reached for a cherry pie. “I might have also mentioned that if he was going to pursue that line of investigation, I might have to get my side of the story out to the press first.”
“Well hell, Carly.”
She slid the warm fried pie out of its cardboard sleeve and took a bite. “He pushed. I don’t like being pushed.”
He grinned. “Point goes to Carly Harrington-Reese.”
She shrugged and offered him some of her pie. “After he left, I had a lot of questions of my own. That’s why I called. Too many things don’t make sense.”
Noah took a bite, all but finishing her offering. “For instance?”
She looked at the rim of crust left between her fingers, then shrugged and popped it in her mouth. “Why did the arsonist choose that store? There’s no easy access. It’s not a standalone or even a corner store like Flawless … was.” He saw her frown, then watched it pass.
“There’s a restaurant across the street and a pizza place on the other end of the strip. Parking often spills over into our lot. People would be around at night who might notice something shady going on. Why not choose a place where the arsonist had all the time in the world to start the fire and make certain it took?”
He slid her a funny look. “Did you come up with any answers?”
She twisted toward him in her seatbelt, animated by his interest. “It must be time-related. He had a window of opportunity, not long, to get you from wherever—where did he pick you up?”
“I don’t know. But let’s say it was outside The Collective Brewing Project over on Vickery. That’s the last place I remember.”
“That’s only a five-or six-minute drive from the fire.” She reached out and brushed her thumb down the side of his mouth. “Cherry filling.” Without seeming to think about it, she licked her thumb clean.
Noah’s body jerked as if she’d applied her tongue to his own. What the hell had she said? Oh yeah. “That’s coincidence, at best.”
He saw her reach for the second pie. He was hungry all right, but not for pie. “I’ve got more. I talked with Mr. Wise, my landlord, this afternoon.”
“Where was that?”
“In the parking lot behind Flawless. I went to check on the restoration work. He said he was doing the same. I asked him about footage from the cameras in the parking lot.” She took a big bite of the fried pie before turning a smug expression his way. Her lips were now shiny red with cherry filling. “Guess what?”
“There isn’t any footage.” God help him. He wanted to pull over and lick her mouth clean.
Her expression deflated. “How did you know?”
“If Durvan had me on security footage I’d be behind bars.”
“No.” She paused to lick her own lips free of filling. Watching her was torture. “Then we’d know who forced you into the store.”
He slanted her a grin. “You really believe me.”
“Don’t change the subject.” She pointed to his shoulder holster. “How did he get the drop on you?”
“I’m not always armed. But what makes you think it was a he?”
“Okay, she. I know how easy it is to distract a man.” She reached out playfully and ran her fingers up his thigh until he grabbed them to stop their progress.