“The skippers either avoid me altogether or smile like a fool whenever they see me. They think they’re pulling one over on me, but I’ve seen it all. Lana was always smiling.”
“How long have you managed this place?”
“Fifteen years. Like I said, I’ve seen it all.”
“Did Ms. Long pay on time?”
“A few days late a couple of times, but she always paid the late fine. Never gave me any excuses.”
“Did she talk about her job?”
“Said she liked it. Never complained to me. But she can talk.”
“The women I know speak when they have something important to say.”
“Well then, you’re lucky. My ex could talk the ears off a brass monkey.”
“Do you have the names of any women Lana works with?”
“Nope.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
“No idea.”
Gideon returned to the living room and knelt in front of the books. He noticed most had not been read. Slipping on gloves, he picked up the only one with a cracked spine. It was a treatise on arson investigation.
“Thank you, Mr. Oswald.” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to him. “Call me if she comes back.”
“Yes, sir. Will do.”
“I need to seal this apartment,” Gideon said. “No one in or out unless they are law enforcement.”
“Because of a purse?”
“Can you seal it for me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
As they exited the apartment, Gideon knew it would take at least another twelve hours before the crime scene would be cool enough to walk. If the woman he’d seen in the shop was Lana, then he would have to wait to prove it.
With Kyle at Ann’s for the night, he’d have time to conduct a preliminary search into Lana Long and determine if she had any police records. Next, he would pay a visit to Elijah Weston’s boardinghouse and properly welcome him back.
Elijah was not surprised to see the police car parked in front of Pickett’s house. He had spent ten years studying cops and their habits, and he would have been sorely disappointed if no one had come by to visit.
A tiny cinder of excitement flickered in his belly. They were going to talk about the fire, and as much as he did not trust cops, he was going to enjoy every bit of the dialogue.
Elijah recognized Gideon Bailey instantly as he settled his black Stetson and strode up the sidewalk, pausing to study the smudged graffiti before climbing the front porch steps.
In college, Elijah had known about Gideon, the local rancher’s boy who had tried his hand at cowboying for a couple of years before returning to college. He had been a receiver on the football team and had earned a partial scholarship, though his athletic talent was not enough to go pro. Not that Gideon would have left Montana. This state and the family ranch were in his blood.
Elijah leaned forward in Delilah’s rocker, tracing the rose pattern carved in the armrest with his fingertip. Always important to act calm and helpful, regardless. “Good evening, Detective Bailey.”
Gideon rested a foot on the bottom step. The brim of his hat shadowed his face a fraction, making it hard to read his expression, which Elijah supposed was the desired effect. Gideon had filled out in the last decade, but instead of growing soft and doughy like many men after college, his body was lean and rugged.
“Evening, Elijah,” Gideon said. “It’s been a long time.”
Elijah rose from his rocker and stepped to the porch railing. Gideon had attended his two-day trial, sitting in the back of the courtroom, seemingly absorbing every detail. The only time he had shown any emotion had been when Ann had testified. Had Gideon or Ann given him a single thought since then? “Ten years, to be exact.”
“You look like you’re doing well,” Gideon said. “I heard you finished your degree.”
So he had been paying attention. “I did. And I’m enrolled in my first master’s class. I’ll start on Wednesday.”
“That so? What are you taking?”
“Psychology 501. Dr. Bailey’s teaching it.”
“My sister’s class?” Gideon’s head tipped back a fraction so that Elijah had a full view of his frown.
“I’ve served my time, so there are no conditions to my release. Besides, she’s one of the best teachers at the university. Why would I not?” Elijah wanted to ask about Ann. He’d heard she and her husband had split. Was she relieved to be living apart from Clarke Mead? Smart women, foolish choices was the catchphrase, right?
“There isn’t another class you could take?”
“None that’s of interest.” He had served his time and was now completely rehabilitated. He planned to become involved with the community and give back exactly what it deserved.
“How are you paying for the schooling?” His tone was conversational, reserved for friends.
Elijah was surprised Gideon’s conversation starter did not focus on the fire. Gideon was always a little smarter than he let on. “There are tuition grants for people like me. And I’ll be looking for work to cover the rest. By any chance, is the police department hiring, Detective?”
Gideon nodded, not a bit of emotion showing.
“You come all this way to ask me about my schooling and job prospects?” Elijah asked.
“I did not, as a matter of fact.”
“The fire, then, I suppose.” When Gideon’s expression turned curious, he added, “Hard to miss the sirens.”
Gideon took another step closer. “I don’t suppose you know anything about it?”
“I do not, Detective. But if you need an alibi, please check with Mr. Pickett. He had eyes on me for most of the afternoon and evening. In case you’re curious, tonight’s dinner was meat loaf. And Mr. Pickett has a very specific way he likes his late wife’s recipe made. Extra bread crumbs and ketchup mixed with honey on top.”
“Not that I don’t take your word for it, but I’ll be checking with Mr. Pickett.”
The night air was getting cooler, but the underside of his skin burned hot with an old anger that had never been extinguished. “I didn’t set this fire, just as I did not set the College Fire
