running up the stairs.” She blew a cloud of dust off the material and coughed again. “I need the light.”
Gabe’s focus was on their prize again. “Looks like more blood.”
“The killer probably wiped his hands on it before stashing it in its hiding place.” Olivia hesitated, glancing up at the grim shadows on Gabe’s expression. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here. I’m looking at things objectively, but it’s all personal for you, isn’t it?”
“I’m okay. Open it. I want to see what he took from her.”
After loosening the last knot, Olivia flipped back the material. The light glinted off the sparkle of diamond facets and polished gold.
Gabe swore a guttural curse. “That’s the ring I gave Dani.”
“I recognize it from the photo.” She pushed his hand away when he reached for the marquise solitaire. “I’m sorry. In case there’s any kind of print or DNA left on it.”
He shrugged off her sympathy. “What else is there?”
She took one more picture before pulling an ink pen from her pocket to scoot aside the other items that had been bundled up for six years. “Earrings and a watch. No sign of a billfold or ID.” His gasp of hope deflated along with her own. “And no flash drive. I suppose that would be too easy. Wait a sec.” Gripping the pen between her fingers, she stuck her arm back inside the opening, extending her reach. “I felt something else in there.”
“Olivia?” The wary suspicion in Gabe’s tone barely registered as her pen tapped against something hard.
With her cheek smooshed against the dusty boxes, she could barely hear him, anyway. “Maybe it’s just a broken tile. I can touch it, but I can’t grab it. Wait a minute. That’s metal on metal. What if that’s a gun? It could be the murder weapon.” This cold case was heating up. But not if she couldn’t retrieve the evidence. She pulled her hand back out. She slid the scarf to one side and lifted the box on top. “I’m going to have to dig it out.”
“Olivia!”
She looked up at his sharp tone. Looked beyond him to the front doors where the beam of the flashlight danced off a gray, swirling haze that grew thicker by the second. “What is that?”
“Smoke.”
Chapter Seven
A bright ball of flame bloomed at the base of the old timber beam beside the front door as though a giant matchstick had just been struck. The fire ebbed in its initial intensity, but the shower of sparks drifting through the smoke found purchase on the rotted wood. Each glowing ember ignited a tiny new fire of its own. In a matter of seconds, the flames branched out along the crosspieces above the door frame and climbed any available path toward the ceiling.
“We need to go,” Gabe urged.
Olivia wrapped up the scarf and its contents and zipped it inside her jacket. The more the fire consumed, the brighter it burned and the faster it seemed to spread. But she wasn’t going anywhere without that gun, if that was, indeed, what she suspected was hidden inside. She flipped the top box off the pallet and reached for the next one. “I need to retrieve everything in here.”
Gabe’s hand clamped over her arm, pulling her away. He thrust his arm inside the collapsing stack and pulled out the small caliber weapon along with a snowy cascade of dust and grit. “Ah, hell. Do you think this...?”
He didn’t need to finish that choked-off question. Yes. Chances were that was the gun that had killed his fiancée.
Olivia plucked the small semiautomatic from his hand and stuffed it into the back of her belt. With flames shooting up to the second story now, there wasn’t time to worry about trading compassion or compromising potential evidence. She grabbed the box with the bloody fingerprints and tucked it beneath her arm. “We need to go
now.
”
With a curt nod, Gabe fell into stride beside her and they ran to the iron doors. By the time they reached them, she’d dialed 9-1-1.
“This is Detective Olivia Watson. I’m reporting a
Gabe’s focus was on their prize again. “Looks like more blood.”
“The killer probably wiped his hands on it before stashing it in its hiding place.” Olivia hesitated, glancing up at the grim shadows on Gabe’s expression. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here. I’m looking at things objectively, but it’s all personal for you, isn’t it?”
“I’m okay. Open it. I want to see what he took from her.”
After loosening the last knot, Olivia flipped back the material. The light glinted off the sparkle of diamond facets and polished gold.
Gabe swore a guttural curse. “That’s the ring I gave Dani.”
“I recognize it from the photo.” She pushed his hand away when he reached for the marquise solitaire. “I’m sorry. In case there’s any kind of print or DNA left on it.”
He shrugged off her sympathy. “What else is there?”
She took one more picture before pulling an ink pen from her pocket to scoot aside the other items that had been bundled up for six years. “Earrings and a watch. No sign of a billfold or ID.” His gasp of hope deflated along with her own. “And no flash drive. I suppose that would be too easy. Wait a sec.” Gripping the pen between her fingers, she stuck her arm back inside the opening, extending her reach. “I felt something else in there.”
“Olivia?” The wary suspicion in Gabe’s tone barely registered as her pen tapped against something hard.
With her cheek smooshed against the dusty boxes, she could barely hear him, anyway. “Maybe it’s just a broken tile. I can touch it, but I can’t grab it. Wait a minute. That’s metal on metal. What if that’s a gun? It could be the murder weapon.” This cold case was heating up. But not if she couldn’t retrieve the evidence. She pulled her hand back out. She slid the scarf to one side and lifted the box on top. “I’m going to have to dig it out.”
“Olivia!”
She looked up at his sharp tone. Looked beyond him to the front doors where the beam of the flashlight danced off a gray, swirling haze that grew thicker by the second. “What is that?”
“Smoke.”
Chapter Seven
A bright ball of flame bloomed at the base of the old timber beam beside the front door as though a giant matchstick had just been struck. The fire ebbed in its initial intensity, but the shower of sparks drifting through the smoke found purchase on the rotted wood. Each glowing ember ignited a tiny new fire of its own. In a matter of seconds, the flames branched out along the crosspieces above the door frame and climbed any available path toward the ceiling.
“We need to go,” Gabe urged.
Olivia wrapped up the scarf and its contents and zipped it inside her jacket. The more the fire consumed, the brighter it burned and the faster it seemed to spread. But she wasn’t going anywhere without that gun, if that was, indeed, what she suspected was hidden inside. She flipped the top box off the pallet and reached for the next one. “I need to retrieve everything in here.”
Gabe’s hand clamped over her arm, pulling her away. He thrust his arm inside the collapsing stack and pulled out the small caliber weapon along with a snowy cascade of dust and grit. “Ah, hell. Do you think this...?”
He didn’t need to finish that choked-off question. Yes. Chances were that was the gun that had killed his fiancée.
Olivia plucked the small semiautomatic from his hand and stuffed it into the back of her belt. With flames shooting up to the second story now, there wasn’t time to worry about trading compassion or compromising potential evidence. She grabbed the box with the bloody fingerprints and tucked it beneath her arm. “We need to go
now.
”
With a curt nod, Gabe fell into stride beside her and they ran to the iron doors. By the time they reached them, she’d dialed 9-1-1.
“This is Detective Olivia Watson. I’m reporting a
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