“She was interning at a design studio and taking classes at the Savannah College of Art & Design.”
“What about you?”
She clamped her teeth over her lower lip for a minute. “I own a shop called Mystique. We sell specialty gifts, New Age books, stories of local folklore and ghost legends, candles, voodoo kits and dolls.”
He frowned, still mesmerized by her eyes but disturbed by her answer. So she was into that New Age crap. Probably believed in the supernatural and local ghost legends.
“How did you and Natalie meet?”
She hesitated again, this time looked away as if she didn’t want to answer.
“She visited the store,” she finally said quietly.
He waited, wondering, testing to see if she’d fill the silence and volunteer more information. Instead tension vibrated between them. She didn’t fit the profile of an arsonist, and didn’t seem like the vindictive type to set a fire to hurt anyone. But it still struck him as odd that she’d been present at both scenes.
Although she’d given him no reason to think she or Natalie had been targets or that she knew the arsonist, he definitely wanted to find out more about Rosanna Redhill. What made her tick, what made her so intriguing, what made him want to hold her when they had nothing in common.
Why he wanted to ask if she had a boyfriend or any lovers when it probably had nothing to do with the case.
Why he sensed she was hiding secrets, that she wasn’t at all the innocent angel she appeared to be.
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