“That’s ridiculous,” Ann said. And then, as if noticing her cream, she poured a splash in her cup and took extra time to stir it with a spoon. The metal clanked against the earthenware mug, but Ann said nothing.
“I’m your friend,” Joan said.
“You’re also a cop.”
“Who’s on leave,” she joked. “That makes me more friend than cop.”
Ann shook her head. “You won’t be here for long.”
This latest deflection deepened Joan’s suspicion that there was something bigger at play. “Ann, Nate likes setting fires.”
“He’s a boy. His father is a firefighter.”
“When I showed up here and saw Nate, my first impression was that he did not look much like Clarke.”
“He takes after my family.”
“Not really,” Joan said.
Ann folded her arms. “This is ridiculous.”
The tension tightening Ann’s features reminded Joan of someone with a secret. “Nate is smart. Very smart.”
She dropped her gaze and shook her head. “So?”
Joan had never been afraid of making outlandish statements to provoke a reaction. “He loves Clarke, but he isn’t anything like his father.”
Ann’s body went rigid. “I don’t like whatever it is you are getting at.”
And in that moment, Joan realized she had struck a nerve. It was a good thing she was leaving Ann’s house, because if her suspicion was right, her next question was likely to get her kicked out. “Is Nate Clarke’s son?”
Ann’s eyes widened with a mixture of fear and dread. “Of course he’s Clarke’s son. That boy adores his father.”
“I’m talking about biology now, Ann. Biologically, Nate is nothing like Clarke.” She thought back to the moment in college when appreciation had shone in Ann’s eyes as she’d looked past her toward Elijah. She softened her tone, as she did when she sensed she might be close to a confession. “At first, I thought Nate just favored you. But when I saw him outside staring at the fire, he reminded me of someone else.”
Ann held up her hand, silent and staring as she shook her head. “Stop right there.”
And this was the moment, suspended or not, Joan knew she had to be a cop first. “Is Elijah Nate’s biological father?”
Confessions of an Arsonist
Fire has no bias. It has no worries. It simply consumes all that it can. The great equalizer.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Missoula, Montana
Wednesday, September 9, 2020
12:50 a.m.
Joan waited for Ann’s wrath. But Ann remained silent, her face growing more ashen by the moment as she stared into her pale, creamy coffee. When she finally looked up, the reflected pain was reminiscent of a cornered animal.
Ann cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “I love my son. I would do anything to protect him.”
“I know that. He’s a great kid.” It was not hard to sound genuine. She really did like the boy. “You got pregnant in the spring of 2010. Tell me what happened.”
Ann glanced up the stairs and then beckoned Joan out onto the front porch. The cold night air bit and snapped, but Ann clearly did not want to take a chance Nate would hear them.
“I was tutoring at the student center with Elijah. We were working with other freshmen studying for the math finals,” she said in a voice that sounded as if it were already traveling to the past.
“Nate was born in January,” Joan said.
Ann shook her head. “We were in almost whiteout blizzard conditions when I went into labor. And Clarke was great. He was cool and calm as he put the chains on his tires. And he couldn’t have done more for me.”
Because he was getting exactly what he thought he wanted: Ann and a son.
Joan backed up the calendar nine months. “You and Clarke were on a break from each other in April,” Joan said.
“Clarke was pressing me to get engaged, but I just wasn’t ready for that.”
“Did you tell any of this to Elijah?” Joan asked.
“No.” She glanced at her palm, tracing a callus likely earned keeping the ranch going. “Elijah mentioned several times that I looked upset.”
“He noticed a lot of things about you.”
When Ann looked up, her surprise was genuine.
“I saw the way Elijah stared at you. He started tutoring when he realized you did.”
“He was patient with the students,” she said. “And we got along really well.”
“And then . . .”
Ann’s brow arched. “I was feeling alone after Clarke and I broke up. I felt like I had blown up my life. The students had left the center for the day, and Elijah was waiting around while I locked up. I was laughing about a joke he had recently told, and when I turned, he was right there. We stared at each other for I don’t know how long. And then he kissed me very gently on the lips. And then I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back harder.”
“And one thing led to another.”
“Yes.” Ann pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “He walked me home and asked if he could see me again, but I told him I couldn’t. I tried to soften the blow, but I could see that he was hurt. He asked me to reconsider, and I said I would, only because I felt so bad for him. But the instant I woke up the next morning, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“I called him and told him I had thought about it, but I really couldn’t see him. I needed time to myself after the breakup with Clarke.”
“How did Elijah take it?” Joan asked.
“He was calm about it. Said he would be there for me, whenever I was ready.”
“That all sounds rational and mature.” And if Joan distrusted anything, it was how accepting Elijah had been.
“I was so relieved. I thought
