Out Of The Ashes. Cynthia Reese

just shook his head. A thought must have occurred to him, though, because his bushy white eyebrows sprang up in a classic “aha!” move. “There was a young man who seemed to agitate her—a repeat customer, I suppose. He’s been around more the past month or so. Tall, shaggy blond hair, wears T-shirts and those awful cargo shorts that hang from the waist and show off your underwear—oh, and flip-flops with socks.”

      That sounded like a spot-on description for Jake, Kari’s brother. “Could you pick him out of a six-pack if I brought you one?”

      “A six-pack?” Mr. Hiram frowned. “Of...beer?”

      “No, I mean, six photos of similar looking men. Sorry. My police lingo got the best of me.”

      Mr. Hiram had the audacity to smirk. “A six-pack, hmm? I shall have to remember that term. It will impress my wife—she’s always reading those police procedurals.” He began dusting off the spotless display case. “Why, yes, I believe I could. You bring your, eh, six-pack over to me and I shall give it a try.”

      “And what made you think this fellow agitated Kari?”

      “Well, they seemed to disagree, for one. They were talking excitedly the day of the fire. Oh, wait! I suppose you’ve checked out Mr. Charlie Kirkman? Because he certainly had a contentious relationship with all of his downtown tenants. And he was arguing with Kari that same afternoon.”

      Rob sighed to himself. The brother and the landlord—nothing new at all in the way of leads.

      “Yes, Charlie Kirkman’s been cleared of any direct involvement...and we can find no financial trail to indicate that he hired someone to do the job. But, er...” now Rob put his fingers to his lips and glanced ostentatiously to either side and said, “keep that under your hat, will you?”

      Mr. Hiram nodded. “You have my word. Let’s see...let me think.” Now in an absent-minded way, he pulled out a tray of watches from the case and began polishing them with his jewelry cloth.

      He’d made it to watch three before he said, “No, I can’t think of anyone who seemed to have a cross word to say about Miss Kari Hendrix. She does so many nice things for so many people. When Jack Stewart—they own the little bookshop down the street from her—wound up in the ICU, Kari made up a basket of treats for Mrs. Stewart and took it to her in the hospital. The only way I found out about that was when Mrs. Stewart came in here to buy a little thank-you gift for Kari. And Kari’s always donating things to the Downtown Association for raffles and fund-raisers. Look—there she is now—see Kari?” Mr. Hiram gestured with the cloth in his hand over Rob’s shoulder.

      “She’s handing out treats for the business owners who are still trying to salvage things.”

      Rob turned to see where Hiram was pointing. Sure enough, there was Kari, with a big basket lined with a gingham cloth, doling out...not muffins. A glazed pastry of some sort, from the looks of it.

      “Well, how could I have forgotten!” Mr. Hiram murmured to himself. “Alan Simpson—he owns the pawn and gun shop next door to Kari. He’d been after Charlie to move Kari down to another spot, so that Alan could expand the shop. I didn’t think about that until I saw them together just now. See? Kari’s handing him—oh, my, do you think she’ll bring one of those bear claws of hers over here?” The jeweler’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “I could do with a little midmorning pick-me up!”

      It was as if Kari had read the old man’s mind. Rob saw her smile and nod at Simpson, then cross the street and head straight for the jewelry shop. A moment later, the bell jangled and she came breezing in.

      “Mr. Hiram! I brought you a—” The bright smile on her face froze as she spotted Rob.

      “A bear claw!” Mr. Hiram either didn’t notice her sudden stumble in speech or chose to ignore it. He put the watches back, deftly opened the walk-through gate between the counters and met Kari on the customer side. “I was just telling young Mr. Monroe here that I hoped you’d remember me.”

      “Would...would you care for one?” she asked Rob. She held up the basket with a great deal less enthusiasm than she had for Mr. Hiram.