Burn You Twice - Mary Burton Page 0,106

speak. So far, he’s come up empty. Weather was cold and everyone had burrowed in—closed curtains, TVs, and such.”

She knelt in front of Dan, seeing hints of the guy who had once been attractive before a decade of long hours, no exercise, and a poor diet. She looked at the side table and noted there was also antibiotic cream and discarded gauze-bandage packages. In the trash were wads of more bloody paper towels.

“He was hurt recently.” Joan touched his thigh and felt the raised edge of a bandage under the sweats.

“I know he could be an ass, but why kill him?” Becca asked.

“Gambling, drugs, a pissed-off neighbor,” she said.

Gideon kept his comments to himself, but Joan sensed he was still mulling what she had said about Clarke.

Whoever had gotten into Dan’s home had killed him without leaving any signs of forced entry or signs of a struggle. This guy was strong and prepared.

Gideon and Joan left the house and paused to speak to Dan’s girlfriend, Nora. She had changed out of her uniform into a snug-fitting blue T-shirt, fur-trimmed blue jacket, and jeans.

Gideon tapped on the window and then opened the door. She rose, sniffed, and glanced toward the house as if it were a house of horrors.

“When did you stop by?” he asked.

“About an hour ago. We were supposed to eat pizza and drink beer and stuff.”

“I thought he was at your mother’s,” Gideon said.

“No. He asked me to tell people that. He wasn’t feeling well.”

“Looks like he was hurt,” Gideon said. “Do you know how?”

“He said it was an accident. Said he cut it on a barbed-wire fence he was fixing.”

“Did you see anything when you arrived?” Gideon asked.

“I used my key to get in. The TV was on, the room was dark, and I saw him in the chair. When I walked up and saw the plastic bag, I freaked.” Nora shook her head. “I called 9-1-1.”

“What did Dan think of Elijah?” Gideon asked.

“Hated him. Especially after the beauty shop burned. It dredged up bad memories of his truck. He thought his diner was going to be next.”

“Did you hear Elijah was beaten up?” Joan asked.

“Yeah, I heard, but what does that have to do with this?”

“Did Dan decide to give Elijah a reason to leave town?” Joan asked.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Nora said.

“Why not?” Gideon pressed.

“Dan’s all talk. He makes a big fuss but never follows through.”

“Maybe he decided this time was going to be different,” she said.

“No.” She shook her head, causing hoop earrings to tangle in her hair. “That’s not Dan.”

“Was there anyone who didn’t like Dan?” Gideon asked.

“He got along with most folks,” she said. “He just didn’t like having criminals living in a town full of good folks.”

“Did Dan know Lana Long well?”

“Like I told you before, he knew her from the diner. She wasn’t here long enough for most people to get a chance to know her.” Nora shifted her stance, as if working the warmth back into her limbs. “Is that all you got for me? I’m tired and want to go home. You know how to find me if you need me.”

“Sure,” Gideon said.

They watched as Nora slid behind the wheel of her red pickup truck and drove off.

“Elijah has broken ribs,” Joan said. “Suffocating a guy like Dan would be really painful.”

“Elijah could have surprised him. Dan could have been dozing in his chair. And you saw the bandages. Maybe he’d taken a few painkillers with those beers. Bag slips over Dan’s head, and before he realizes what’s happening, it’s lights out.”

Joan wanted to believe Elijah had not done this, but wanting and knowing were two different things.

A uniformed police officer approached Becca, the two talked, and then she approached them.

“No one has seen anything so far,” she said.

“Whoever did this must have left something behind,” Gideon said. “They always do.”

Gideon and Joan again fell into silence as he drove them back to his ranch. Joan had made a logical argument, but it was so outrageous. Clarke an arsonist. Until a DNA test came back proving Clarke had fathered Lana’s fetus, Gideon would reserve judgment.

The more time he spent with Joan, the more aware he became of her. The curve of her neck. The way she tapped her thumb and index finger together when she was thinking.

He slowed as they approached his driveway and passed under the double-B brand. As they grew closer to the house, he was tempted to slow-walk his approach so they could spend a