“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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