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house. That will be a big job. Helen was always a pack rat. She hated to throw anything away. I offered to help her more than once, but she always put it off. She must finally be ready to let go."
    "I guess."
    "Did she tell you about the fire?"
    "I've heard about it. Did you live next door then?"
    "I did. I wasn't home though. By the time I arrived, it was over. It was very sad."
    "What happened to Helen's daughter-in-law and grandson?" She might as well participate in the conversation since Sally seemed eager to gossip.
    "They left right after the funeral. Lana took Blake and went to live with one of her sisters. After she moved away, Helen and her husband, Tom, moved back in to oversee the remodel. It had originally been their home, you know. They'd raised Robert in the house, but after he got married to Lana, Helen and Tom retired to San Diego. After the fire, they came back. Tom died last year and Helen has lived like a hermit since then. Anyway, I'm rambling on. My husband always says I talk too much. I'm sure he's right."
    Jessica liked Sally a little more for admitting her flaws.
    "I should go. I have a Pilates class," Sally said. "Please let me know if you need anything."
    "I will. Thanks for stopping by."
    As she closed the door, Jessica wondered why Sally had found the need to bring up the fire. Was she just a nosy neighbor or had she been trying to get some information out of Jessica? But what information could Jessica possibly have that Sally wouldn't already know? And then there were her odd comments about the man across the street. What was that about?
    Frowning, she walked down the hall to the kitchen and decided to focus on lunch and unpacking her kitchenware. It was time she concentrated on her own life.
     
    * * *
    "I just realized you're not at Camille's wedding," Emma said, as she let Sean into her apartment. "Why didn't you go?"
    "I had some things to take care of."
    She gave him a knowing look. "Funny how busy you get when there's a family event."
    "Hey you're not there, either."
    "I was going to go, but I had to walk through a fire scene this morning."
    Her words reminded him that Emma, like so many other Callaways, lived in the world of fire, the world he had wanted nothing to do with until now.
    "Do you want some tea?" she asked.
    "I definitely don't want tea," he said following her into the small kitchen "Do you have anything else?"
    She opened the refrigerator. "Beer, soda, orange juice."
    "I'll take the juice."
    As she poured him a glass of juice, he sat down on a stool at the counter. "Where's your husband today?"
    "Max is working a homicide. It happened last weekend, and he's having trouble finding a lead. He's been working overtime all week."
    "Sorry to hear that."
    She shrugged. "It's the job." Emma filled the teapot with water and turned on the stove. "So what's this favor you want?"
    He took a sip of juice, as he thought about what he wanted to say. Getting Emma involved in any part of his life was asking for trouble. His sister was a great person, but she also loved to meddle. Once he let her in, he'd never get her out. On the other hand, he had questions he wanted answered.
    "Come on, spit it out," she ordered. "Does this have something to do with Jessica?"
    He frowned. "Why would you ask that?"
    "Because I've noticed a little spark between you two. But it seems like you go out of your way to avoid her. That makes Nicole very happy by the way. She does not want you and Jessica to get involved with each other. She's afraid you'll break Jessica's heart and drive her away and ruin everything."
    Exactly what he'd told Jessica. "Nicole doesn't have to worry. Jessica and I are just—friends." He stumbled over the word, knowing that their last kiss had been anything but friendly. He cleared his throat. "I didn't come by to talk about Jessica."
    "So why are you here?"
    "It's the Emery house. I've been thinking about that fire. I have some questions, Emma."
    "Like what?"
    "Do you know how the fire