“Maybe.” Joe flashed the beam of light on the gallon-sized container of paint thinner, hidden behind the plumbing. It was charred on the outside, but opened and tipped over. “Because using a full gallon of paint thinner is so much easier than a small bottle of fingernail polish remover.”

The woman kept on screaming, the sounds ripping a hole in Joe’s chest. He flashed his beam of light on the carefully placed childproof lock on the inside wall of the cabinet, which would have kept her kids out. He took in everything else beneath the sink, all child-safe products such as a bottle of bubbles and kiddie soap.

Not another chemical, not so much as a cleaning agent, nothing. No, he would not buy that she’d have hoisted a heavy can to remove her fingernail polish. And he didn’t buy she’d have kept it under the sink either. Joe thought of the missing father and his gut twisted with memories of his own cruel father. He met Kenny’s gaze with his own grim one. “We’ve got some good evidence here.”

Which, with the mother’s heartbreaking sobs in the distance, brought no satisfaction at all.

The building for the new Creative Interiors II sat on a square of other shops and galleries in the center of Ocean Beach. It was a Tudor-style cottage, two story, with wide-open rooms, and windows with views of the Pacific Ocean only a street away. Perfect party house, and Summer knew tonight there’d be quite a gathering. It was the opening bash, and if there was one thing Camille and Tina could do and do well, that was throw a party.

Just the idea of it, with tons of people sequestered in close quarters, gave her a tight feeling in her chest.

She tried not to think about it as she worked with Stella and Greg to hang streamers and fill balloons with helium. Stella was a soft-spoken, petite blonde, adorable and sweet, and completely unassuming. Gregg was even more quiet, if that was possible. Summer often wondered if the two of them ever got boisterous or wild. Camille said she’d seem them at parties and after hours socializing, and that they did, but Summer couldn’t picture it.

She stopped decorating to look out the windows at the sunset. But off in the distance, in the purple sky, rose a long plume of dark smoke.

A fire.

Everything within her gripped in sympathy, in horror, and she wondered who the flames were affecting. Wondered, too, if Joe was there, with his quiet intense eyes, trying to find the cause.

“Miss being outside?”