“That could be a reason for staying in touch,” Kateri says. “Many women maintain contact out of fear.”

“I don’t think so,” he says. “She didn’t leave. After Birdie, she like never left the house. We don’t have a phone. We don’t have internet.”

“Mail?” Kateri asks.

“I don’t know,” Shannon says.

“What about your father’s associates?” Kateri asks.

He says the word back to her. “He didn’t work with anyone,” he says, confused. “You mean like cousins?”

“Alliances he may have made in prison,” Kateri says.

Shannon’s face falls, and he looks down at his lap. “I don’t know,” he says, barely audible. “Not that I know of.”

“The remains we found were burned,” Kateri says.

“So?”

“Your father is in prison for arson. Arson doesn’t just happen to the same people twice,” she says. “Could he have put someone up to it?”

“I don’t know,” Shannon says.

“Could he have put you up to it?”

He looks around the room, like an animal looking for holes in the trap. “I didn’t do it,” he says finally. “But sure. If you want me to speculate for you, he could have put me up to it. But he didn’t. And I didn’t do it.”

It’s Hurt’s turn to chime in. “Crimes often repeat generationally,” he says to Shannon.

“I know,” Shannon says.

“You know?”

“Yeah, every goddamn fire in this town comes back to me,” Shannon says. “I get questioned every time.”

“Yes, but this time it involves your mother,” Kateri stresses. “Are you telling me that a fire happened to your mother twice?”

He looks at neither of them and holds his hands open, an empty offering. He stares at the wall behind them. “Do you want me to repeat myself?” he asks, and then does. “I didn’t do it.”

Kateri rubs the ever-growing crease between her brows and tries to switch gears.

“Your mother kept you both captive,” Kateri says. “Complicit. After your sister was born. You had to keep the secret too.”

He nods slightly.

“Where are you staying?” she asks, stretching her neck, watching, to see if he’ll unconsciously mimic her. She needs to get a better look at each side, the mark of a thumb and four fingers.

“I don’t know why that matters,” Shannon says.

“Well, it might matter a great deal,” Hurt says, sudden and loud, and Shannon jumps at the male voice.

“Do you have a friend,” Kateri asks, “or a coworker, maybe, who might have signed Birdie out for you?”

“No,” Shannon says. “I didn’t ask anyone to sign her out.”

“What about Bear Miller?” Kateri asks.

Shannon blinks, presses his lips together, and looks away from Kateri. “He didn’t sign her out,” he says.

Kateri cocks her head. “How do you know Bear Miller?” she asks.

“I work for him,” Shannon says.

“Is that all?” Hurt asks.

“Does it matter?” Shannon asks.

“Let’s say that it does,” Hurt says.

“Is it true,” Kateri says, “taking back over, that you’re staying with Mr. Miller in the model home at the River View site? On Fountain Street?”