Lana: Don’t pull that shit with me. The baby is yours.
And DNA will prove it. Step up or I’m going public.
Roger: Don’t do that.
Lana: Why shouldn’t I? You made it clear you don’t care about me or the baby.
Roger: I care. I do. Let’s meet. We can talk. I have a ring for you.
Lana: What?
Roger: That’s right. I love you.
Lana must have accepted the ring, because in subsequent texts she said how much she loved it.
Roger: I have a surprise for you.
Lana: Really?
Roger: Meet me at the Beau-T-Shop?
Lana: Time?
Roger: Now. I need to see you.
Lana: Okay.
The last text was sent at 6:15 p.m. on Saturday. The fire crews estimated that the blaze had started about 6:45 p.m.
“Do you have any idea who Roger is?” Gideon asked.
“No. I never heard the name until I read the texts.”
A DNA test would create a profile for the father of Lana’s unborn child, but whether that individual was in any DNA database was impossible to tell. Still, it was a solid lead in the process of solving who had strangled Lana and then left her to burn alive in the fire.
“Can you give me Lana’s password and username? I want to read all her messages to Roger.” He removed a pen and pad from his coat pocket and pushed them toward Ryan, who wrote down both. “Thanks, Ryan. This could be a big help.”
Their food arrived, and they both ate in silence. Ryan all but cleaned his plate in less than five minutes, and Gideon gave him his extra bacon and toast.
When Ryan seemed to have had his fill, he sat back and said, “Lana and I were once really good together. I would have taken her back even with the baby.” He stared down at the empty plate, trying to hide his tears.
Gideon wanted to promise that he would solve this case, but he had learned a long time ago that sweeping promises were a recipe for disappointment. “Are you staying in town?”
“There’s a bus to Denver in two hours. I’m going to be on it.”
“I can drive you to the station.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”
“Sure.”
“You’ll call me when this is solved, Detective?”
“As soon as I have an update I can share, you’ll be getting a call from me personally.”
Confessions of an Arsonist
Out of all the destruction caused by fire, there is always new growth eventually. New bonds.
Death before life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Missoula, Montana
Wednesday, September 9, 2020
10:30 a.m.
When Ann and Nate left for school, Joan had every intention of following them into town. But the fire last night and the lack of sleep had left her exhausted.
She swallowed a couple of aspirin and sat on the couch for a quick break until the throbbing in her head eased. But her eyes quickly drifted closed, and this time she fell into a deep sleep, only to be awakened by pounding on the front door.
She jumped to her feet, fingers fisted, ready to fight as she quickly oriented herself. She glanced at her phone, groaned at the lost couple of hours, and then hustled toward the door. She opened it to find Gideon and Clarke standing on the front porch steps. “Hey, fellas.”
Gideon’s gaze pried into her, as if he was searching for a nugget of information that would answer questions that went back more than a decade. “Did we wake you?”
Joan moistened her lips and drew in a breath. “No. Just about to make a second pot of coffee. You guys want any?”
“No,” Gideon said.
“Can we come in?” Clarke asked.
Joan stepped aside. “Sure. I figured you’d be back this morning. You boys know where the fire started, so I’ll leave you to it while I make coffee.”
“Did you sleep at all last night?” Gideon asked.
“I don’t need much.”
“What about Ann and Nate?” Clarke asked.
“Both got to bed. Nate went right off to sleep, and Ann finally gave up and grabbed a few hours.”
“Did you have any other problems last night?” Gideon asked.
“No,” she said. “Very quiet.”
“Any calls afterward?” Gideon asked.
“No contact of any kind.”
“Did Nate or Ann see anyone before the fire?” Clarke asked.
She had not really thought how she was going to juggle Ann’s paternity reveal and also the boy’s presence at the fire. But for now, she would not tell. “No.”
Clarke accepted her comment with a nod and headed toward the bedroom. Gideon lingered a beat. Those dark eyes searched her face for any hint of deception. Finally, both men walked out the back door and crossed the yard