“None.”
“Did you get her to set the Beau-T-Shop fire? Maybe she was the one up in the hills practicing techniques you’d taught her.”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
She ignored the question. “Did she lose her nerve in the beauty shop? Is that why you had to kill her?”
His frown deepened as if he had been presented with a new math problem. “Lana’s dead?”
“Burned to a crisp.” She was intentionally blunt to shock him and perhaps provoke a reaction.
He closed his eyes for a moment and seemed genuinely shaken. “I didn’t know she was the fatality.”
“Really?”
“I liked Lana. I would never wish her harm. Check the prison records. You’ll see that Lana and I first made contact back in January. They have samples of my correspondence.”
“How many girls like Lana did you know?”
“You’re suggesting I have this stable of women who set fires for me.”
“You wouldn’t be the first Svengali to get women to do your bidding.”
His quick laugh was tainted with a bitter tone. “You should write for television.”
Confessions of an Arsonist
I need more fire to burn the ice she has wrapped herself in. Soon. Soon. Soon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Missoula, Montana
Wednesday, September 9, 2020
2:00 p.m.
Joan pushed through the doors of Tucker’s Diner, hearing the bell above her head as she entered. If only she had a nickel for every time she’d heard that damn bell or stood behind the counter and served coffee until 2:00 a.m. At least the late-night hours were quiet and allowed her to do the bulk of her studying. In fact, the regulars back then had toned down their chatter while she did her homework.
Dan Tucker stood behind the counter just as his father had ten years ago. The younger Tucker was fatter, his skin blotchier. She guessed the heavy drinking he did back in the day had finally caught up to him.
She took a seat at the end of the bar, waiting as he served up a platter of pancakes to a customer. On autopilot, he reached for a coffeepot and an ivory stoneware mug. But when his gaze crossed her face, he froze. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
“Dragged me all the way from the East Coast.”
He set the mug in front of her and smiled as he filled it. “It’s good to see you, Joan.”
She sipped. “Still the best coffee I’ve ever had.”
“Damn right.” He set the pot down. “I don’t need any guesses to figure out why you’re back in town, Detective. Mr. Weston should be worried.”
“He doesn’t seem too rattled.”
“No, he never did. Always had a smirk on his face.” He regarded her. “You didn’t come here just for my coffee.”
“I have questions, if you don’t mind answering them.”
“I’m an open book.”
That she doubted. “I understand someone painted a few unkind words on the sidewalk outside his residence.”
“I heard something about that,” he said easily. “Are you here because of the graffiti?”
“I have bigger fish to fry.”
“You going to prove Elijah set the Beau-T-Shop fire?”
“I have no jurisdiction here.”
He laughed. “When did not having the authority ever stop you?”
“Never.” She reached for a sugar packet, shook it, but did not bother to tear it open. “Why are you so against him, Dan? One thing to not like a guy but another to set up a citizens’ action committee against him.”
“You of all people should understand. He nearly burned you alive. He is a danger, and he will end up killing someone. It’s a matter of time.”
“I know why I should have a beef, but why you?”
“Maybe I don’t like the idea of his kind of trouble. He doesn’t belong here. The Halperns have lost their business, and if I lost the diner, I would be screwed.”
“Why would he come after you?”
“Because my stuff burns as good as the next guy’s.”
“You set up your citizens’ group long before the Halpern fire. There has to be more to what’s motivating you.”
“Do I need a personal reason?”
“No, but I’d bet you have one. Tell me why.”
Dan sighed. “We went to high school together.”
“Spit it out.”
“Someone set my truck on fire in high school.”
“Are you saying it was Elijah?”
“Yes!”
“But Elijah was never arrested or charged with that crime.”
“But he did it. I know he did.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I was a little rough on Elijah in high school. I gave him a hard time. It was all fun and games, but he must have taken it personally.”
Joan remembered that Tucker used to tease her when she worked at the diner. If it wasn’t her Philly accent, it was the way she dressed or her plans to go to graduate school. He went out of his way to point out that she was an outsider. His teasing had quickly stopped being funny, and though she was good at ignoring him, someone less stable might have reacted differently.
“Your teasing is the reason Elijah set fire to your truck?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe you made someone else angry? You do have a gift for finding someone’s weakness and pressing.”
“You never seemed to mind.”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“I knew from the beginning that Elijah was off. He was never like regular kids in high school. It was a matter of time before Elijah caused trouble then, and it’s the same now,” Tucker said. “The cops don’t seem to be willing to do anything.”
“The police don’t have any evidence that he set the fire. Our judicial system is a little fussy about that.”
“I don’t need proof to make my case.”
The underlying threat was clear, but she did not challenge it. “Did you know Lana Long?”
“Sure. Nice gal. Came in here from time to time.”
She tore open the sugar packet and slowly poured it into her cup. “Did she date anyone that you know of?”
“I don’t track the love lives of my customers.”
Joan cocked her head. “Dan, you pay attention to everything.”
He shrugged and pulled the dish towel tossed over his shoulder to wipe his hands. “Lana came in last week. It was a slow time of day.”
“And?”
“She was dressed in tight jeans and had her hair done up. She was a handsome woman and didn’t mind showing off her goods.”
“And?”
“Ordered pancakes. Said she was celebrating, according to Nora.”
“Nora?”
“Nora O’Neil. The waitress serving Lana’s table.”
“What did Lana tell Nora?”
“She said she was getting married.”
“I don’t suppose there was a name attached to that statement?”
“Nora asked, but Lana didn’t say. Nora said she was sporting a big engagement ring on her ring finger.”
“When was this?”
“Last week. Friday, maybe.”
There had been no mention of a ring on Lana’s body. “But she didn’t say who gave it to her?”
“Whoever it was had money.” He sniffed. “You should ask Darren.”
“Darren Halpern. He owns the beauty shop with his wife.”
“That’s right.”
“Why Darren?”
“He joined Lana at her booth table just as she was finishing up. They chatted. Looked like a boss talking to an employee. Aboveboard.”
“Was it?”
He shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him.”
Joan leaned forward, catching a lingering scent of bacon on his white T-shirt. “Between us girls, Dan, how’s the Halperns’ marriage?”
“It’s seen better times. They’ve shared a few silent and stony breakfasts.”
“Lana’s name ever come up in conjunction with either of them?”
“Not in front of me.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you think she had something to do with the fire?”
“I have no idea.” Lana died in the fire and had been connected to the Halpern couple. Had she been having an affair with Darren? A fire would be the perfect way to take care of financial issues and a mistress making trouble. “Can I get the Mountain High Pancakes?”
His grin did not reach his eyes. “You think you can handle them?”
“I know I can.”
His easy expression hardened. “You’re smart, and Gideon does a fine job of keeping the peace, but if you two don’t get to the bottom of that fire tout suite, someone just might go after Elijah.”
“Tell someone to hold off for a few days.”
He studied her a beat and then tapped the counter with his fingers. “I’ll get those pancakes.”
Hardly a ringing acceptance, but it was the best she could hope for. She knew her brokered truce with him would not last long.
She ate the pancakes once they came, proud to leave Dan a clean plate. But when she reached for her wallet, he insisted her money was no good in his establishment. She thanked him and headed directly to the Halperns’ office on State Street.