Burn You Twice - Mary Burton Page 0,59

kind of way. He just seemed totally focused on her.” She shrugged. “I started to pretend he was writing me.”

“It’s something to have someone feel that strongly about you,” Joan said.

“Yeah.”

“So Lana was hooked?” Joan asked.

“She would have done anything for him. And some of his requests were kind of weird.”

“Weird how?”

“He asked her to light a candle for him each night. Said the fire would remind her of him.”

“What else?”

“She burned her arm on the stove. She said it was an accident.”

“And you don’t think it was?” Joan asked.

“The first few times, but by the fifth time, I knew it was more than that.”

“Her boyfriend was asking her to burn herself?” Gideon asked.

“I hope you burn for me like I burn for you. She told me he said that in a letter,” Penny said.

“What was his name?” Gideon said.

“He only signed all his letters E.”

“E. Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You never said if Lana was okay?”

“When I can say, I’ll let you know.” Gideon thanked Penny. “Doug, we’re going to get out of your way. Call me with any updates.” He took Joan by the arm. “We need to get going.”

“I want to stay,” she said.

“No,” Gideon said. “We’ll get a recap later.”

Outside, Gideon settled his black Stetson on his head as he reached for his phone and searched his contacts for Warden Martin’s number. The number rang three times and went to voicemail.

“Warden, this is Detective Gideon Bailey in Missoula. I have a few questions for you about a former inmate, Elijah Weston. Can you call me back?” He hung up the phone.

“None of this makes sense, Gideon,” Joan said.

“No, but it will. Eventually.”

“We need to tell Ann. She needs to know about that picture.”

“Agreed.”

“What’s the next move? Helena?” she asked. “It’s less than two hours away.”

If he was annoyed that she had jumped into his investigation with both feet, he did not seem to mind. “Okay. Let’s go.”

In his car, he tossed his Stetson into the back seat and sat behind the wheel as she climbed into the passenger seat. As he slid on dark glasses, she unzipped her jacket and clicked her seat belt.

He easily maneuvered through town to I-90 North with the practiced ease of a man who had spent his entire life here. She missed that kind of familiarity. In Philadelphia, she knew almost every side street, shortcut, and back alley. Here it had all changed enough that she was constantly rechecking her bearings.

“A warehouse caught on fire in Helena?” she prompted.

“Leading with arson first. No small talk?”

“What?”

“Small talk would involve asking me about Kyle. What I had for breakfast. The status of the ranch.”

She considered her options. “Kyle is fine, or you would not be here. Unless you’ve changed, you still don’t eat breakfast, and I hear you have a very competent ranch manager.”

“Still not good with the small talk?”

“Worse, if you can believe it. Let’s stick to the fire in Helena.”

He wove around a slower family van and zoomed ahead in the left lane. “Owned by John Pollock,” he said. “Pollock was in Texas when his warehouse burned early in 2019.”

“Out of town like the Halperns,” she mused. “I bet he had a solid alibi.”

“He did.”

“What was the cause of the fire?”

“It was undetermined. The local fire chief finally ruled it an electrical fire despite the fact that there were two ignition points.”

“That alone should have raised a red flag.”

“It did. But in the end, the investigator was pressured to make a call. The destruction was quite extensive.”

“How certain are they that it was an accident?”

“Enough to authorize the insurance payout.”

“Does Pollock know we’re coming?”

“No. I’ve spoken to my buddy with highway patrol, Sergeant Bryce McCabe. He’s fully apprised of what I’m looking for.”

“What’s his judgment on the Helena warehouse fire?”

“He’s given me free rein to ask as many questions as I want.”

“Which means he has suspicions.”

“Maybe.”

“Speaking of the Halperns, do you have their financials yet?”

“They’ve been slow to respond. I should have my court order later today so Detective Sullivan can start pulling them.”

She looked out the window at the rolling landscape, watching the distant mountains trail past. The air was thick with the promise of snow.

“Speaking of Kyle . . . ,” she said.

“Yes?”

“He’s a good kid.”

His expression softened. “I know. Thanks.”

“Sorry to hear about his mother. I knew Helen in school.”

Gideon remained silent. “You two didn’t get along.”

“I didn’t get along with a lot of people. Doesn’t mean I wished her harm. It’s not like she stole my man.” Though