When she came to fill his coffee, he grinned at her, liking the way the pink skirt hugged her hips and the apron nipped at her narrow waist. “Like the earrings.”
“They’re Ann’s.” She filled the cup. “Said they would help with the tips.”
The beaded earrings dangled and brushed the side of her jaw. “Have they?”
“Can’t complain. What are you doing here? Doesn’t your mother have a big dinner planned?”
“I wanted to see you.”
A ghost of a smile tipped the edges of her lips. “Your mom can’t be happy about that. She had a feast planned.”
His mother had started decorating for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving, transforming the house into a holiday extravaganza. “Do you get any time off? Mom invited you to dinner.”
“That’s nice. Tell her thank you. But I promised Mr. Tucker I would close up at ten p.m.”
“Where are Tucker and his dad?”
“Hunting. It’s their Christmas tradition.”
He kept his hands on his lap so he would not be tempted to touch her. He loved the feel of her skin. A bell behind her dinged, and she turned toward the cook as he put out two hot plates of pancakes. She gathered both and set them in front of two cowboys sitting at the end of the bar.
Joan made the rounds, dispensing butter packets, extra napkins, and coffee before she returned to him. “I’ll be back at the house by eleven.”
“Why don’t you come out to the ranch? Ann’s there this week.”
“Thanks, but I’m also scheduled to open the diner early. But you can swing by my house after my shift,” she offered with a sly grin.
“I’d like that.”
Just watching her in her pink uniform with the tiny white apron made him so hard that he was pretty sure there was no blood left in his brain.
The cook’s bell rang again, and Joan was off for more platters of food. Another lost soul with no place to be on Christmas arrived and took a seat at the end of the bar. Joan chatted easily with him, lingering an extra moment to make his holiday a little better. Gideon recognized Elijah Weston.
Later, while he was alone with Joan in her house, he asked, “What’s the deal with Weston?”
“I know him from school.” As she released her dark hair from its ponytail, the slight scent of pancakes and maple syrup made him even more attracted to her.
“You’re comfortable with him.”
She unbuttoned the uniform’s pearl buttons that trailed down between her breasts, and then she shrugged off her dress. When she stepped out of it, her smooth skin glistened in the soft light. He caressed her shoulder, hooking his thumb in her bra strap. “You like him?”
“I want you.” The clasp between her breasts unhooked, and just like that, coherent thought abandoned him completely.
Weston had been woven tighter into Gideon’s past than he had ever realized. Like a spider, he was always there, lurking.
Ten years of perspective now exposed Joan and Elijah’s strong connection in college. They were two lost souls with no real family. Loneliness was a potent connection that could bind tighter than the best sex. Gideon sat up and walked over to his map. He was not sure if Joan was under Elijah’s spell or if she simply saw something others did not. Either way, he wanted to keep her close until he could untangle this case.
He texted Joan the image of his map. I’m headed to Helena to investigate a fire tomorrow. You in?
Bubbles appeared immediately. Yes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Missoula, Montana
Tuesday, September 8, 2020
8:00 a.m.
Joan parked in front of the police station and glanced at the fire map Gideon had texted her. His makeshift collection of Post-it notes on a child’s map was a very powerful graphic detailing the regional fires over the last ten-plus years. The clusters were unmistakable, though whether the fires were the work of one or multiple arsonists was impossible to tell. But it was a pattern that could not be ignored.
Out of the car, she hoisted her purse on her shoulder and pushed through the front door. At the front window, she introduced herself to a deputy she had not met before. “I’m here for Detective Bailey.”
The deputy picked up the phone and announced her arrival. “He’ll be right out.”
“Thanks.” She turned toward a bulletin board filled with wanted posters, resisting the urge to pace.
The door opened to Gideon, who regarded her with a mixture of distrust and keen awareness. Cowboy lean, he wore jeans, a light-blue dress shirt with no tie, a black leather jacket, and scuffed boots. His weapon and cuffs were attached to a handmade belt buckled with a silver medallion sporting the BB brand of the family ranch. Shit, why did he have to look so good?
“We have a stop to make before we go.”
“Where?”
“The search warrant for Lana Long’s apartment just came through.”
“I can come, too?”
“Try to hang back.”
She grinned. “Always.”
They drove across town and pulled up in front of the older apartment complex. She followed Gideon up to the second floor, and when they rounded the corner, they spotted the yellow crime scene tape and the two techs. The first tech, Hank, was in his late fifties, with thinning red hair. The other tech, Doug, looked to be in his thirties, and he wore his thick, dark hair slicked back off his face.
Gideon shook hands with both. “Did the manager give you any trouble?”
“Not after we showed him the warrant,” Hank said.
Doug doled out gloves and booties, and when they were all geared up, he let them into the apartment.
Joan worked her fingers into her gloves as she stepped inside. She stood for a moment, allowing her gaze to survey the small space. She moved toward the bookshelf and pointed to the book on arson. “I’ve actually read this one,” she said as she bent down and snapped a picture with her phone. “Covers the motivations and case studies.”
“Don’t think she was studying to be an arson investigator one day,” Gideon said.
Joan rose and moved past the sparse kitchen toward the bedroom. An air mattress worked well on a tight budget. She had slept on her share.
They watched as Doug lifted a pair of neatly folded jeans from the suitcase. They smelled of laundry soap, as if they had just been washed. Lana did not appear to have owned many clothes, but what she had was well cared for. Doug checked the suitcase’s inside pocket. “It’s an itinerary for a flight dated for today. It was bound for Denver.”
“Why call her boyfriend if she was planning to fly out?” Gideon asked.
“Maybe she got spooked,” Joan said.
Doug carefully documented and photographed as he went through the contents. Once the suitcase was empty, Doug reached in a side pocket and removed a picture. It was of Joan and Ann, taken in front of their college house.
“Wow,” Joan said, too stunned to add much more.
Gideon muttered under his breath, “What the hell?”
“The picture was taken at the beginning of our senior year.”
“I should know,” Gideon said. “I took it.”
“Where did she get it?” Joan asked. “The last time I saw that photo was on the refrigerator of our house. Did you have copies?”
“No,” Gideon said. “But I had other versions of the same photo at my house. I haven’t seen it for years.”
Doug dropped the photo into a clear plastic bag. “We’ll dust it for prints back at the lab.”
She smoothed her hands down her thighs. “If that doesn’t tie the two fires together, I don’t know what does. Seems very convenient.”
A woman appeared as they were leaving Lana’s apartment. In her midthirties, she wore faded jeans and a leather jacket, and her dark hair was swept into a ponytail. “Why are the cops in Lana’s apartment?”
Gideon introduced himself, then asked, “And who are you?”
“I’m Penny Rae,” she said. “I live a couple doors down. Lana and I are friends.”
“How long have you known Lana?” Gideon asked.
“About a year. We met at a concert in Helena last year. She said she wanted to move to Montana, so I told her to try Missoula. She took me up on my offer to see the city and decided she liked it.”
“When exactly did you see her in Helena?” Joan asked.
“Early last summer. Why does that matter?” Penny asked.
“Was she with anyone at the time?” Gideon asked.
“No, she was all alone. Said she had just visited her boyfriend.” Penny tried to look around Gideon into the apartment. “What’s going on?”
“There was a fire at the salon where she worked,” Gideon said. “You think Lana had something to do with it?”
“Why would you say that?” Penny asked.
“Just asking,” Gideon said.
Penny pursed her lips. “Is Lana okay? I don’t want to get her in trouble.”
“Tell me what you know about Lana,” Gideon said.
Penny slid her hand into her pocket. “There was a guy. She didn’t see him much, but he wrote her letters, which I thought was a little old-fashioned.”
“Did you get a look at any of the letters?” Gideon asked.