attached to a handmade belt buckled with a silver medallion sporting the BB brand of the family ranch. Shit, why did he have to look so good?
“We have a stop to make before we go.”
“Where?”
“The search warrant for Lana Long’s apartment just came through.”
“I can come, too?”
“Try to hang back.”
She grinned. “Always.”
They drove across town and pulled up in front of the older apartment complex. She followed Gideon up to the second floor, and when they rounded the corner, they spotted the yellow crime scene tape and the two techs. The first tech, Hank, was in his late fifties, with thinning red hair. The other tech, Doug, looked to be in his thirties, and he wore his thick, dark hair slicked back off his face.
Gideon shook hands with both. “Did the manager give you any trouble?”
“Not after we showed him the warrant,” Hank said.
Doug doled out gloves and booties, and when they were all geared up, he let them into the apartment.
Joan worked her fingers into her gloves as she stepped inside. She stood for a moment, allowing her gaze to survey the small space. She moved toward the bookshelf and pointed to the book on arson. “I’ve actually read this one,” she said as she bent down and snapped a picture with her phone. “Covers the motivations and case studies.”
“Don’t think she was studying to be an arson investigator one day,” Gideon said.
Joan rose and moved past the sparse kitchen toward the bedroom. An air mattress worked well on a tight budget. She had slept on her share.
They watched as Doug lifted a pair of neatly folded jeans from the suitcase. They smelled of laundry soap, as if they had just been washed. Lana did not appear to have owned many clothes, but what she had was well cared for. Doug checked the suitcase’s inside pocket. “It’s an itinerary for a flight dated for today. It was bound for Denver.”
“Why call her boyfriend if she was planning to fly out?” Gideon asked.
“Maybe she got spooked,” Joan said.
Doug carefully documented and photographed as he went through the contents. Once the suitcase was empty, Doug reached in a side pocket and removed a picture. It was of Joan and Ann, taken in front of their college house.
“Wow,” Joan said, too stunned to add much more.
Gideon muttered under his breath, “What the hell?”
“The picture was taken at the beginning of our senior year.”
“I should know,” Gideon said. “I took it.”
“Where did she get it?” Joan asked. “The last time I saw that photo was on the refrigerator of our house. Did you have copies?”
“No,” Gideon said. “But I had other versions of the same photo at my house. I haven’t seen it for years.”
Doug dropped the photo into a clear plastic bag. “We’ll dust it for prints back at the lab.”
She smoothed her hands down her thighs. “If that doesn’t tie the two fires together, I don’t know what does. Seems very convenient.”
A woman appeared as they were leaving Lana’s apartment. In her midthirties, she wore faded jeans and a leather jacket, and her dark hair was swept into a ponytail. “Why are the cops in Lana’s apartment?”
Gideon introduced himself, then asked, “And who are you?”
“I’m Penny Rae,” she said. “I live a couple doors down. Lana and I are friends.”
“How long have you known Lana?” Gideon asked.
“About a year. We met at a concert in Helena last year. She said she wanted to move to Montana, so I told her to try Missoula. She took me up on my offer to see the city and decided she liked it.”
“When exactly did you see her in Helena?” Joan asked.
“Early last summer. Why does that matter?” Penny asked.
“Was she with anyone at the time?” Gideon asked.
“No, she was all alone. Said she had just visited her boyfriend.” Penny tried to look around Gideon into the apartment. “What’s going on?”
“There was a fire at the salon where she worked,” Gideon said. “You think Lana had something to do with it?”
“Why would you say that?” Penny asked.
“Just asking,” Gideon said.
Penny pursed her lips. “Is Lana okay? I don’t want to get her in trouble.”
“Tell me what you know about Lana,” Gideon said.
Penny slid her hand into her pocket. “There was a guy. She didn’t see him much, but he wrote her letters, which I thought was a little old-fashioned.”
“Did you get a look at any of the letters?” Gideon asked.