green sticker. At the airport, she had assumed Clarke’s DNA had produced a tall ten-year-old, and Ann had allowed her to believe it. “I got this for you, but your mom said it was too small.”
“Maybe.”
“I can still give it to you?”
“Naw, I don’t need any more shirts.”
They both continued to eat in silence. Joan had forgotten how much she liked the cereal’s malty taste, which now reminded her of school and a young life filled with possibilities.
She set down her spoon and shifted to the stark task of questioning the boy about the fire. With his mother still asleep, now was the best time. Once Ann was around, her mama-bear claws were going to come out and censor everything the boy said.
She chased around a few dried Cheerios, realizing her milk-to-cereal ratio might have indeed been too low. “What did you think about the fire?”
He finished chewing. “Bright.”
For all his brains, he had come up with a fairly weak descriptor.
“It was more than that. It was pretty destructive and dangerous.”
“I know.”
“I asked you this last night, but Kyle was there. Now it’s just the two of us. Why were you outside?”
“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”
“Do you set fires in the firepit when you can’t sleep?”
His eyes widened in surprise, as if he had been caught stealing cookies from a jar. “No.”
“But you think about it, don’t you?”
“Yeah. But Mom would freak out if I did, and I don’t want to upset her. Ever.”
“Okay, okay.” Joan shifted her line of questioning. “What kind of noise did you hear outside last night?”
“Crunching leaves.” He refilled his bowl with more cereal, milk, and sugar. “I thought it was a bear. I was going to investigate. We have horses in the barn that are easily spooked by them.”
“The barn is down the road, along with the foreman, who takes care of the horses.”
“He drinks and also sleeps hard. If I had told Mom about the sound, she wouldn’t have let me go. She doesn’t want to admit it, but I’m grown up.”
She resisted a smile. “Okay, you hear a sound and go out to investigate. Did you see a bear?”
“I saw something big and dark running toward the woods. And then I heard the big whoosh and then saw the flames.”
She had heard the same sound. By her calculation, it had taken her at least a minute to put on her clothes and shoes and get out the door. “Why didn’t you call for help?”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t know. The fire was so interesting. I couldn’t stop staring at it.”
“The figure who was running away, was it a man?”
“I think so.”
“Was he carrying something?”
“I didn’t see anything.”
“Did you smell anything?”
“Like an accelerant?” the boy asked wisely. “No, I don’t think so.”
“You know about accelerants?”
“Gasoline, diesel, and thermite. Sure. Who doesn’t?”
She could name a hundred. She set down her spoon and picked up her coffee, sipping as she tried to keep this entire conversation light and easy, as if that were possible with arson. “Are you sure you didn’t set the fire by accident?”
He looked at her, his gaze widening a fraction. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Because if you did, I wouldn’t be mad.”
“My mom would be mad. She’s not crazy about fire because her house burned down when she was in college.”
“I wouldn’t tell her.” Which was not true. In fact, Ann would be the first she would tell. Like it or not, lying was a trick cops used to get a suspect to tell them what they needed.
“I didn’t set it!” His voice rose, and he dropped the spoon into the bowl, creating a loud clank.
“Set what?” The question came from Ann, who was standing in the doorway. She looked both bleary eyed and suspicious.
“I asked Nate if he set the fire,” Joan said.
“Why would you do that?” Ann asked as she came up behind her son.
“He was on the scene when I arrived.”
“He’s a child, and you were not a cop rolling up on a crime scene last night. You’re my guest.”
“It was a crime scene. Still is. And I am a cop.” Maybe not in Philadelphia much longer, but somehow, somewhere else, she would be.
“Nate, finish your breakfast. Then get dressed. I’ve laid out fresh clothes for you.”
“I didn’t set the fire,” he repeated.
“I know, baby.”
Ann touched him gently on top of his head, but he angled slightly out of her reach. “I’m not a baby.”
“I’m well aware,” Ann said.
Nate took several more bites and then picked up his bowl