Burn You Twice - Mary Burton Page 0,27

But given that it was taking every bit of her to keep her body from melting, she hoped her presence had jostled his apple cart a little.

She held out her hand. “Good to see you.”

He took her hand, squeezing gently and slightly frowning as her rough scars brushed his skin. His gaze wavered, suggesting he was taken aback. Good. They could all stand on shaky ground together. “Likewise.”

Kyle ran up to his father. “You smell like smoke.”

“There was a fire in town last night,” he said, dropping his gaze to his son.

“What burned down?” Nate asked.

“A beauty shop.” Gideon’s voice sounded almost conversational, as if he did not want to alarm the boys.

“Can we go see it?” Kyle asked.

“No.”

“I want to see it,” Nate said.

“Me too,” Kyle piped in.

“Maybe in a few days,” Gideon said. “Right now, it’s still not safe.”

Joan shifted to cop mode. “Do you know how it burned down?”

“We do not,” he said.

“Nate said Clarke had a call last night,” Ann said.

“That was the one. He was there most of the night.”

“Boys, finish your breakfast,” Ann said. “We’ll go out for a ride in the back range once you’re finished.”

“Can I ride Whiskey?” Kyle asked.

Ann looked to Gideon, who nodded.

“He’s a strong rider,” Gideon said with pride. “Whiskey will be fine.”

As the boys scurried back toward the kitchen, Joan moved closer to Gideon, more drawn by curiosity over the fire in town than she was cautious of old emotions tangled up with guilt. The scent of smoke clinging to him stopped her a couple of feet away. “Have you spoken to Elijah? Where there’s smoke, there’s often an arsonist.”

He rubbed the brim of his hat, already worn in several spots. “We haven’t proven arson yet.”

“Just so you know, I came to town to see Elijah,” Joan said. “I thought he might act again, but never this fast.”

“We don’t know if it’s him yet,” Gideon said.

“Are you defending him?” Ann’s anger hardened her tone.

“No. I just follow the facts. And right now, I have a fire with undetermined origins.”

“Where was Elijah at the time of the fire?” Joan asked.

“He has an alibi,” Gideon said.

“I’ll bet,” Joan said.

The thunder of the boys’ footsteps in the kitchen rumbled through the house and made glasses in an antique cabinet rattle.

“I better go check on that,” Ann said.

Ann turned and was calling out the boys’ names before her foot landed on the first step.

“I’m going to talk to Elijah,” Joan said.

“About what?” Gideon asked.

“I’m not sure. But I’ll know when I get there.”

“A few questions will reveal the truth in his heart?” he asked, baiting her.

“No. Thinking maybe interrogation skills I’ve picked up along the way might ferret out a few deceptions.”

“And then what? He’s already been tried, convicted, and served his time for the last fire.”

Joan slid her hands into her pockets. Jesus. She’d been fired up and motivated when she’d boarded the plane yesterday. She had not formulated a clear plan beyond seeing Elijah. Now a suspicious fire had destroyed a building, and there was a crime scene to examine. And whether Gideon liked it or not, she would participate in the investigation.

“I’m borrowing your mother’s car,” she said.

He shook his head. “The clutch is out.”

“Then I’ll get Ann to drop me at the rental car place.”

He regarded her with a guarded steadiness, as he used to when sizing up a wild bronco. “You can ride with me and save her the trip into town. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

A hint of challenge laced Gideon’s tone. He was daring her to spend time with him and perhaps, God forbid, converse about the unfinished business between them.

To beg off would scream coward. She might regret the decisions she had made a decade ago, but she would not apologize for them. “I need to grab my coat and purse.”

“Chop-chop,” he said. “Bus is leaving in five minutes.”

“Right.” As she passed the hallway mirror, she caught a glimpse of her reflection. Her hair stuck up, and yesterday’s mascara was smudged under her eyes. She looked like a cross between a rooster and an anime cartoon character.

Minutes later, teeth brushed and hair tamed by a damp comb, she’d changed into jeans, a dark-brown sweater, and black boots. All work-wardrobe staples. She felt underdressed without her sidearm.

The boys were gathered around Gideon. Both had donned coats and looked ready to head to the stables with Ann. Nate had a calculus book tucked under his arm. Algebra had nearly been Joan’s Waterloo in