Page 85 of Heating Up (Nugget)
“Tell her what you know.” He laughed and took off for the shower.
Dana washed out her cup, sighed when she saw Aidan’s in the sink, and washed that one too. On her way out the door, she grabbed her briefcase and took a few seconds to air out her car. Not even ten a.m. and it was stifling. Unable to help herself, she swung by the square to check out the Bun Boy.
The damage didn’t look too bad. It was worse than the sporting goods store, though. A few people had gathered on the sidewalk to gawk, but there weren’t many people out at this time on a Sunday. She noticed Owen milling around and unrolled her window.
“What do you know?” she asked him, feeling a little more outgoing than her usual self.
“You’re the one with the inside track. What does your hot-shot fire investigator tell you?”
“Nada. He’s by the books.”
“Well, ever since he showed up, we’ve been having a lot of fires, starting with yours, missy. Seems like quite a coincidence, if you ask me.”
“Aidan didn’t set those fires,” she said.
“How do you know?”
Because she’d burned her own house down, and as for the others . . . “I was with him when he got the calls.”
“Convenient alibi, don’t you think?” He tracked her with a gimlet eye.
The man was nuts. When he spied Dink, the mayor, walking into the barbershop, he headed after him.
She backed out of her parking spot, giving the Bun Boy one last, longing look. A week without curly fries was like a week without sunshine.
Her clients were waiting in their car when she got to the office. She unlocked the door, immediately switched on the AC, and waved to them to come in. The Arnolds were a nice-looking couple, probably in their early forties. Mr. Arnold was a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon and his wife a social worker. They had three teenagers, and if anyone needed a vacation home, it was them.
“How was your night at the Lumber Baron?” Dana asked.
“It’s such a pretty place . . . usually so tranquil,” Mrs. Arnold said. They’d stayed there a few times. “But we had some excitement last night.”
“The fire,” Dana said, and thought,terrific!Nothing said charming country town like arson.
“Do you know how it started?” Mr. Arnold asked.
“No idea. But I know they’re investigating.”
“According to theNugget Tribune, it was the second fire in a week,” he said.
“It’s very unusual for this town. It’s probably kids . . . summer vacation. . . boredom. I have lots to show you today, including a turnkey cabin on the river that we just listed.”
That caught Mrs. Arnold’s attention. “That sounds nice. Are we seeing that one first?”
“We can if you like.” Dana handed the couple a file. “The places we’re seeing are all in there. I’d like us to swing by Sierra Heights afterward, just so you can make comparisons. Anyone need to use the bathroom before we go?”
Three hours later, she was ready to pull her hair out of her head. The Arnolds were truly lovely people, but they suffered from paralysis by analysis. Instead of leading with their hearts, they broke everything down into pros and cons. Would this house appreciate more than that house? They loved having views of the river, but they worried about flooding. What if they eventually wanted a pool; where would they put it? And the list went on.
She looked at her watch. They wanted to be on the road by two. Dana thought they had just enough time to swing by Sierra Heights, wanting it to be their last impression of the day. She cruised through the security kiosk, which, as usual, had no security. The Arnolds didn’t comment on it, which, given how much they’d scrutinized everything else, gave Dana hope.
“It really is lovely.” Mrs. Arnold sat in the backseat, gazing out the window.
“I was at a party here the other night. The host is a chef and he made pizzas in the outdoor oven, poolside.”
“How does it work with the golf course again? Residents have priority?” Mr. Arnold asked.
“Mm-hmm.” It’s not like it was difficult to get a tee time. This was Nugget. “Would you like to see a few of the models again?”
“Perhaps that would be a good idea,” he said.
