his shoulder and then his arm as if he were a major league ballplayer warming up.
“Looks good,” Gideon said. “Should be a quick visit, which will give you time to do your math homework.”
“I hate math,” Kyle said.
“Fractions are his nemesis,” Gideon said as he laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s not a fan.”
Kyle shrugged. “What’s the point? Isn’t that what a phone calculator is for?”
“Just between you and me, Kyle,” Joan said, “I’m a calculator kind of girl.”
“Don’t be fooled, Kyle. Joan had a straight-A average in college.”
“Is she like Nate?” he asked.
“No. Not quite like Nate, but she’s got game.”
The offhanded compliment felt surprisingly nice. “Don’t make me blush.”
Kyle laughed. “See you around, Joan.”
“You too, Kyle.”
Gideon’s expression teetered somewhere between confusion and relief when he and his son left. The room grew heavy with a silence broken only by the gurgle of the coffee maker. She looked at the closed file, her interest in the past waning. Still, she opened the next folder. She found the images that the investigating officer had discovered in Elijah’s dorm room. Judging by the location and her outfit, they’d been taken in the late fall of her senior year. She had been at a local bar watching the rodeo on television. She remembered the night and knew Gideon and Ann had been present. Funny, she had no memory of Elijah at the bar. She snapped photos of each with her phone.
She continued to sift through the pictures. Her interest was piqued when the shots shifted from the house to the crowds.
She knew arsonists liked to see their work. It was common to find them lurking among the crowds, watching the flames devour their target. She studied the faces, recognizing a couple of old neighbors and former classmates. Then she spotted Elijah standing behind Clarke and Gideon. Gideon’s expression was pained, and his clothes and hands, like Clarke’s, were covered in dark soot. She had no memory from the moment she passed out to the instant she woke up coughing in the ambulance. Her memories rested on vague impressions and some sounds.
Joan sank deep into herself and floated in a pool of cool water. She was at peace. Not afraid. Not worried. This sense of well-being suited her, and she wanted to remain exactly wherever this was.
Hot, grimy hands cupped her face and forced her head and neck back. Lips touched hers, and hot air blew into her lungs several times. The air, like a lifeline, dipped below the water’s edge and snared her. Before she could resist, the rope was yanking her toward the surface. Her head popped up above the water. She sucked in a deep breath. Her chest hurt, and her throat felt raw.
“Joan!”
Hearing her name shouted out from the past prompted her to open her eyes. She blinked, clearing her vision.
In her mind’s eye, a familiar face came into view, but it was not the one she had expected. “It was Clarke,” she said to herself. “Why wasn’t it you, Gideon?”
Ann did not have classes today, but after she’d dropped Kyle off at the police station, she took the opportunity to take Nate by the university campus. The college-level coursework would likely not be a problem for her son, but finding his way to his classes might be. They had made it a habit since kindergarten to visit the school the day before it opened and walk the hallways, and now, in this case, the campus.
Nate stared out the window, his lips pursed.
“You’ve been here a hundred times before. There’s nothing to be worried about.”
“I’ve never been in the math building,” he said anxiously.
Last week, Nate was supposed to have visited the building with Clarke, but the boy’s father had texted at the last minute and canceled. Sorry, babe, work. “You were there last year for the science fair.”
“That was different,” Nate said. “I was with a group. Now I’ll be alone.”
His expression resembled that of a much older man, a far cry from the laughing boy at breakfast yesterday. “Let’s have a look at the classroom. By the time we leave, you’ll have it committed to memory.”
“That’s a solid plan.”
She smiled, resisting the urge to push the hair from his eyes as she had when he was a toddler. “Let’s do this.”
Out of the car, the two crossed the nearly empty lot to the four-story brick building. Automatically, she looked to the metal fire escape on the north side. Unbeknownst to Nate, she had walked the