Page 132 of Head Room

Tom muttered, “Told him how you folks got involved.”

I said, “You burned down your cabin.Why?”

He didn’t balk at my assumption.“Make whoever killed him unsure what happened.Slow things down.If someone thought they’d killed me, let them keep on thinking it.If someone thought otherwise and knew they’d killed Nance, throw them off.”

Truth?Or a conspiracy tale?

At least we know he’s not prone to believing conspiracy theories about Denver International Airport...

Diana’s words wrapping up our dip into gargoyles and Satanic elites echoed in my head.

“But you prepared for a fire, what you told Hannah Chaney, giving her the quilts.”

“Yeah, I prepared.”

“Why?”

“Thought you knew,” he said with a sourness that extended to Tom, who must have told him at least some of our activities to get him to agree to this talk.

Wouldn’t have asked him if I knew.Wasn’t going to give him the advantage of voicing that.

“Why would someone kill Nance at your cabin?”

His forehead creased in impatience.“He was coming to finally tell me what was bothering him and that’s where they found him?He arranged to meet somebody there?That’s part of what I was trying to figure out.”

“Did you succeed?”

“No.”

“Why’d you come here?”

“Knew Nance camped here sometimes when he was in the area and didn’t want to be elsewhere.”

His head tipped to the northwest, indicating the group of veterans living in that direction.

“Didn’t want to draw them in,” he added.

He didn’t?Nance didn’t?Was there also an element of not wanting them to know because he or Nance or both suspected their involvement?

“Let’s talk about you taking care of the veterans.”

That surprised him — he’d expected the focus to stay on the death, on the cabin fire.

Not asking him now might not make it great when we did get there, but still better than now.

Assuming I got to that topic before Shelton arrived.

“I wasn’t taking care of them.”He sounded disgusted by the suggestion.“They took care of themselves.”

After a moment, he added, “Mostly.They’re not any of them fond of going into town.Most will if they have to, but if I can do the town runs for them, it’s all to the good.Supermarket, post office, hardware, bookstore.Now and then someplace else where they might need or want something particular.

“Irene was real good at spotting things they weren’t saying.Me, I gotta ask or they gotta tell me.It’s not as good as when she was here, but we’ve rubbed along okay.Better as time’s gone by.”

“What have you done to help them toward buying property?”

“Not much.”

That wasn’t particularly believable.But whether as an attempt at hiding information or natural dismissiveness of his efforts, I didn’t know.