The woman looked at me for a second like she didn’t know what I was talking about, but then it seemed to click. “Oh, right. Mosher called you. Head right down there, second door on your left. He should be in his office.”
I thanked her, then followed her directions until I stopped outside a door that read Sgt. Mosher. I knocked. The door opened from the inside and standing by it was a man in his mid to late thirties with brown hair that was already graying and a notch taken out of his left eyebrow. He wasn’t bad looking or good looking. He was just sort of…normal. Boring, even. The kind of guy someone might pass on the street, then immediately forget they’d ever seen.
“Ms. Leone?” he asked, stepping aside to let me in.
I nodded and stepped into his office. He closed the door behind me, then indicated one of two chairs in front of his desk. Part of me wanted to remain standing, to be strong, but I ultimately decided to sit. I was afraid I’d only be strong if I was angry, and probably being angry with this Mosher guy wouldn’t do me any favors.
“I know it’s early, so I really appreciate you coming down. Coffee?”
I shook my head even though I was dying for a cup. I just wanted to get to the point already. “How bad is it?” I asked evenly.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his stomach. “Bad,” he told me bluntly. “But we’ll get to that in a minute.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that no, we’d be getting to that right now, but he continued on as though I were no more than a poster on the wall.
“As I mentioned, the fire department is dealing with the situation right now. On our end, I feel like we should talk about some things before you go see the damage.”
“What things?” I asked, wondering what we needed to talk about that wasn’t the actual shop.
He leaned forward again, settling his hands on the desk top. He looked pleasant, as though he were talking to an old friend about the weather. Which didn’t exactly make him likeable to me in that moment. “You’ve got insurance, right?”
My stomach dropped. “Yes, of course,” I answered. And I did. Unfortunately, it was the bare minimum. I couldn’t afford much more than that and depending on how bad the damage was, there was a really good chance the insurance company wouldn’t compensate me for much. If anything.
He smiled and nodded. “Glad to hear it. I’m sure once you contact them, they’ll be happy to cover the damages.” He reached for a folder then, seemingly oblivious to the way my face paled. He opened the file and scanned over some documents there, then asked, “I notice you’ve been late on a few insurance payments here.”
That got my attention. My brow furrowed as my mouth turned down. I crossed my arms defensively across my chest. “What does that have to do with anything? How do you even have that information?”
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, then smiled at me as though to tell me it was all fine. “Just some standard notes I’ve got here. Want to make sure you didn’t set fire to your own place.” He said it almost like a joke, then winked at me.
My jaw dropped. Recovering, I found myself standing. “Are you crazy? Did you seriously call me down here to accuse me of arson? Of deliberately destroying my own business?”
“Whoa, whoa now.” He held up his hands, palms facing me, motioning for me to settle down. “Take it easy. I know you might be feeling a little hysterical right now, but I’m only doing my job. These are just routine questions.”
Hysterical. He thought I was being hysterical.
I was up and out of my seat before I even had a chance to tell my body to rethink that aggressive move. My hands clenched tightly against the rage that was quickly building inside my chest.
Hysterical. What an ass.
“Routine?” I demanded incredulously. “You can’t be serious!”
He ignored me, and continued perusing his documents. “Has business been good?”
“Does it matter?”
He looked up at me from his files, waiting for my reply.
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to answer as honestly as possible. “It’s been okay. I doubt I’ll ever be the salon choice of the rich and famous, but I get by.”
He nodded. “And the store attached. The convenience store. Does it do well, too?”
I was practically shaking with suppressed rage, but I kept my tone calm as I said, “Yes. It does fine.”
“Good, good,” he said more to himself than to me. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “It’s hard being a small business owner. Finding the funding, then making the payments for the business on top of what you need to make personally. And raising a kid on your own, too.”