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He noted it down. "Did you notice any inventory missing?''
"No."
"Damaged equipment?"
"No."
"Any holes in security?"
"No. I would have dealt with any of those things immediately."
Did he think she was an idiot? "Work was progressing on schedule, and the inventory I looked over was fine."
His eyes cut back to hers, lingered. "You didn't look over everything?"
"I did a spot check, Inspector." The stare was designed to make her uncomfortable, she knew. She refused to allow it. "It isn't a productive use of time for me or my staff to examine every negligee or garter belt."
"The building was inspected in November. You were up to code on all fire regulations."
"That's right."
"Can you explain how it was that, on the night of the fire, the sprinkler and smoke alarm systems were inoperative?"
"Inoperative?" Her heart picked up a beat. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"They were tampered with, Ms. Fletcher. So was your security system."
She kept her eyes level with his. "No, I can't explain it. Can you?"
He took out a cigarette, flicked a wooden match into flame with his thumbnail. "Do you have any enemies?"
Her face went blank. "Enemies?"
"Anyone who'd like to see you fail, personally or professionally?"
"I-No, I can't think of anyone, personally." The idea left her shaken. She pulled a hand through her hair, from the crown to the tips that swung at chin level. "Naturally, I have compet.i.tors..."
"Anyone who's given you trouble?"
"No."
"Disgruntled employees? Fire anyone lately?''
"No. I can't speak for every level of the organization. I have managers who have autonomy in their own departments, but nothing's come back to me."
He continued to smoke as he asked questions, took notes. He wound the interview down, closing it by logging the time.
"I spoke to your insurance adjuster this morning," he told her.
"And your security guard. I have interviews set up with the foremen at the warehouse." When she didn't respond, he crushed out his cigarette. "Want some water?"
"No." She let out a breath. "Thank you. Do you think I'm responsible?"
"What I know goes into the report, not what I think."
"I want to know." She stood then. "I'm asking you to tell me what you think."
She didn't belong here. That was the first thought that crossed his mind. Not here, in the cramped little room that smelled of whatever the men were cooking downstairs. Boardrooms and bedrooms. He was certain she'd be equally adept in both venues.
"I don't know, Natalie, maybe it's your pretty face affecting my judgment, but no-I don't think you're responsible. Feel better?"
"Not much. I suppose my only choice now is to depend on you to find out the who and why." She let out a little sigh. "As much as it galls me, I have a feeling you're just the man for the job."
"A compliment, and so early in our relations.h.i.+p."
"With any luck, it'll be the first and the last." She s.h.i.+fted, reached down for her briefcase. He moved quickly and quietly. Before she could lift it, his hand closed over hers on the strap.
"Take a break."
She flexed her hand under his once, felt the hard, callused palm, then went still. "Excuse me?"
"You're revved, Natalie, but you're running on empty. You need to relax."
It was unlikely she would, or could, with him holding on to her.
"What I need to do is get back to work. So, if that's all, Inspector..."
"I thought we were on a first-name basis now. Come on, I want to show you something."
"I don't have time," she began as he pulled her out of the room.
"I have an appointment."
"You always seem to. Aren't you ever late?"
"No."
"Every man's fantasy woman. Beautiful, smart, and prompt." He led her down a staircase. "How tall are you without the stilts?'' She lifted a brow at his description of her elegant Italian pumps.
"Tall enough."
He stopped, one step below her, and turned. They were lined up, eye to eye, mouth to mouth. "Yeah, I'd say you are, just tall enough."
He tugged her, as he might have a disinterested mule, until they reached the ground floor.
There were scents wafting out from the kitchen. Chili was on the menu for tonight. A couple of men were checking equipment on one of the engines. Another was rolling a hose on the chilly concrete floor.
Ry was greeted with salutes and quick grins, Natalie with pursed lips and groans.
"They can't help it," Ry told her. "We don't get legs like yours walking through here every day. I'll give you a boost."
"What?"