Page 20 of Finding Home

“Give her my best,” Cole said.

“Will do.” Noah pulled up the zipper on his jacket. “She’s nervous about this exhibition, but she shouldn’t be.” A quiet pride settled across his face. “Her latest jewelry collection is incredible. Call me if you hear anything about the fire.”

Cole watched his friend head toward his truck. Noah and Cassie had busy careers and were raising a family. They were navigating the kind of relentless schedule that would have pulled most couples apart. Yet somehow, they’d managed to stay genuinely in each other’s corner.

Noah rearranged his time so Cassie could catch flights to her exhibitions or work long hours to meet a deadline. Cassie made room for Noah’s new venture in Finley Point. Neither of them seemed to keep score.

Cole had admired a lot of things about Noah over the years. But the quiet, steady partnership he and Cassie had built was the thing he admired most.

Cole looked back at Julie. She was studying a patch of ground near a fence on the far side of the site. She stayed there for so long that Cole knew she’d found something.

Then she called out, “Sheriff Thompson? You’ll want to see this.”

Cole crossed the distance with the sheriff. Julie straightened as they approached, keeping her camera at her side.

“There,” she said, pointing to the ground.

Unlike the hard-packed ground farther toward the shed, the soil here was soft. The boot print she’d found was deep-heeled, wide-soled, and angled toward the fence. Whoever had made the imprint had come from outside the property, not through the main gate.

Cole frowned. “None of the contractors would have any reason to be over here,” he told Julie and Marcy. “It’s not on any access route and there’s nothing stored near this fence.”

Sheriff Thompson crouched beside it with a measuring tape. “We’ll cast this.”

Julie raised her camera and took three photos before stepping back.

Cole studied the frown on her face. She knew what this meant. Someone had come to the site, set a fire, and vanished back into the tree line. They’d done it efficiently, and they’d do something else next.

After a police officer marked the area for further investigation, Julie walked back to the parking area with Cole. “How bad is it? Financially, I mean.”

Cole had been honest with her before. He didn’t see the point of starting to manage the truth now. “Enough to hurt. Not enough to stop us if the insurance claim goes through cleanly.”

“And if it doesn’t?” she asked.

“Then we have a problem.”

The acknowledgment sat between them, and he watched Julie absorb it. She didn’t have the polished sympathy of someone who didn’t understand what was at stake. She knew what it could mean if they had issues with their insurer.

“We need to find whoever’s responsible for the fire,” Julie said. It wasn’t a question or a reassurance. It was a statement of fact, offered like a hand extended across the space between them.

As he studied the mangled mess that had once been a large storage shed, he thought about what had happened today. The most unexpected thing wasn’t the fire, the financial blow, or even the boot print they’d found.

It was that Julie had come without being asked.

And somehow, that steadied him more than anything else could have.

Chapter 14

Julie stepped into the General Store. It smelled the way it always did. Pine cleaner mingled with ground coffee, and the sweet scent of whatever home baking was on the counter.

It was the type of store that always had something interesting to see. Power tools were arranged in precise rows beside party balloons and holiday decorations. An entire shelving unit was dedicated to pens, paper, and other essential stationery. But it was the local, organic grocery items that made the store extra special.

Julie pulled a wire basket from the stack near the entrance and moved toward the shelves. After the freezing temperature outside, she was grateful for the warmth from the pot-belly stove that made her fingers tingle.

She wasn’t planning to linger. All she wanted was a rotisserie chicken, something green, and maybe a packet of pasta. It would give her the kind of dinner that required minimal thought and could be ready in seconds.

Investigating the fire had consumed every useful hour of Julie’s day. Her notes were scattered across the cottage kitchen table, and her spreadsheet was filled with fragments that didn’t connect. It was only when her stomach grumbled that she realized she’d completely forgotten to have lunch.

She was studying the shelves stacked with rice and pasta when someone stopped beside her.