Burn You Twice - Mary Burton Page 0,105

idea he had never considered had blindsided him. “Nate?”

Joan drew in a breath. “She loves her boy more than anything.”

Gideon stared at her with a mixture of horror and disbelief. “And Clarke figured this out?”

“Not yet would be my assessment. But I think Clarke must have sensed that Elijah was a rival.”

“How could he? Ann and Elijah never openly dated.”

“But he seemed to be around us a lot. And if I noticed how Elijah looked at Ann, Clarke must have as well.”

“Okay, assuming he noticed.”

“Then he decided to drive a stake in the heart of his competition. He steals the backpack, plants the pictures, sets the fire, and then is on the scene to play hero. You got to Ann first, and I was saved only in the nick of time.”

“I begged him to save you as I was coming out with Ann.” A muscle pulsed in Gideon’s jaw. “They got married six weeks after the fire.”

“Exactly. The fire drove Ann right into her hero’s arms. Your sister got played by your best friend, Gideon.”

He dropped his gaze and pushed the gravel around with the tip of his boot. “And the recent fires?”

“The beauty shop was a job for hire and I think purposefully timed for just after Elijah’s release. He becomes a suspect all over again. Ann’s shed fire was a warning to me, and I think the cabin fire was a way of cleaning up a loose end.”

“You’re saying Jessica hired Clarke to burn down her salon?”

“She had a cash-flow problem and a big insurance policy.”

“If Jessica hired Clarke, why would she turn on him?”

“She wasn’t banking on someone dying in the fire.”

“And Lana?” Gideon challenged.

“We know she was in contact with Elijah, and she was sporting a ring similar to the one we found on Jessica’s body.”

Gideon ran his hand over his head. “That’s not anywhere near solid evidence.”

“You’re right. Which is why I think you need to test the DNA of Lana’s baby against Clarke’s.”

“Clarke and Lana were having an affair,” he said, looking like he was trying to wrap his brain around the idea.

“It would explain why Lana had the picture of Ann and me.”

“All Clarke has talked about is fixing his marriage.”

“I suggest you check Clarke’s phone records to see if he was in Helena at the time of the warehouse fire.”

“Joan, this is out of left field.”

“You need to consider it, Gideon.”

Gideon’s phone rang, and he looked almost relieved for the interruption. “Becca.” He listened for several seconds and then said, “Leaving now.”

“What?” Joan asked.

“Dan Tucker is dead.”

Minutes later, they were in his car and headed to town. Neither spoke as Gideon drove the back roads into town. He did not mention Clarke, and Joan did not press the point. He was still keeping her in the loop, and she took that as a sign he was considering what she had told him.

Gideon pulled up in front of the one-story rancher with the sloped roof. There were two other police cars parked out front, their flashing lights drawing the attention of curious neighbors who must have decided the blue lights trumped the week’s entertainment options.

They each donned rubber gloves. Someone commented about Joan entering the secured space, but Gideon vouched for her with a few terse words. They then stepped under the yellow crime scene tape that separated the insiders from the rest of the world.

She tugged at the edges of her gloves, working her fingers in deeper as she entered. The air temperature in the house was cold, which she knew would retard decomposition and the scent of death. She gave props to the killer for having the sense to turn off the furnace.

She followed Gideon down a narrow hallway that opened into a living room with closed curtains and a thick shag carpet. The main furniture piece was a worn brown recliner and a large television set playing a documentary on gold miners.

Beside the chair was a coffee table sporting six empty beer cans, gauze, and bloodied paper towels.

“You said his girlfriend found him?” Gideon asked.

“Yes. She’s in the back of my car,” Becca said. “Figured you’d want to talk to her there rather than in here.”

“I do,” he said.

Joan walked around the chair and studied Dan’s body. His face was covered in a clear plastic bag. His jaw was slack, his lips blue with eyes half-closed over glazed irises.

“Windows or doors open?” Gideon asked.

“No. All closed and locked,” Becca said.

“Any witnesses?” Gideon asked.

“My partner is knocking on doors as we