Woody interjected here and there, but he seemed distracted, hurting about Ralph, Luke thought.
“Why is the victim so reticent to speak to you two?”
“Faye thinks it’s PTSD. And the victim’s mother doesn’t want us to give her false hope.” Luke knew Abby was not nearly as frail as Molly, but he still couldn’t bring himself to mention the trail leading to Lucy Harper.
“I understand that.” Abby gave a knowing nod. “You should be certain about your facts, and exactly how firm her foundation is, before you sit her down. Don’t string her along with vagaries.”
“I would never do that,” Luke said, holding Abby’s gaze and loving that he saw strength and balance there, so much better than the uncertainty he’d seen right after the shooting. He wanted to reach across the divide and grip her hand.
But their food came, and instead he said a blessing, mentioning comfort for Woody and his loss.
Abby spoke up when he finished. “Sounds like you’ve got the bases covered with your case.” She looked down at her food, and Luke got the distinct impression she had something else to say.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked. “You think we missed something?”
She shook her head. “No, you guys are thorough. Listening to all of this has made me think that I’d like to help. If Dr. Collins can’t get back to me right away, I may have a few days before I go back to work. Would you mind a little company?”
Luke and Woody exchanged glances as Luke’s heart jumped in his throat. She’d read his mind. There was nothing he wanted more.
“We’d love your help. Molly might feel more comfortable talking to a woman, especially one who can totally empathize. When will you know about Collins?”
“I’ll call him again first thing in the morning, then let Woody know. Sound good?”
Both Woody and Luke nodded in agreement.
“I have some other news. I don’t know when—it could be a couple of months or more—but I’ll eventually be making my way to Tehachapi on some family business. My uncle is in CCI up there. I’m waiting to be approved for visiting.”
Luke felt his jaw go slack and saw that the news got Woody’s attention as well. Simon Morgan’s file was where the information on Lucy Harper was. Would he know about her possibly seeing Buck after the fire? Would he tell Abby?
“Simon?” Woody said, putting his sandwich back on the plate. “In the prison at Tehachapi? I thought he was in San Quentin.”
“He was, but he calmed down and stopped being a problem some time ago, apparently. He was moved to CCI about three years ago.”
Luke was truly nonplussed. “What, uh . . . what made you decide to visit him?”
Abby sighed and Luke thought he saw a hesitation in her eyes.
“I don’t mean to get personal . . .”
Cocking her head, she said, “It’s not that. It’s just that my aunt convinced me that I needed to talk to my uncle. He knew my father. He might have insight about him that could help me put any doubts to sleep.”
“Doubts about whether or not he’s alive?” Woody asked, and Luke shot him a glance. He really hadn’t thought Abby would still struggle with that. The idea that she did gave him pause.
“Maybe a little.” Abby hiked a shoulder, gaze thoughtful. “But I have gotten past it. Going home was good for me. Visiting my uncle is just a way of connecting with a long-lost family member and learning what he remembers about a dad I barely knew.”
“You do sound as if getting away was just what you needed,” Luke said.
“It was. I feel as though I’m on a firmer foundation now.” She smiled and raised her glass. Luke did likewise with his tea, and Woody followed suit. The three toasted one more time.
“To the future,” Abby said. “And catching bad guys and putting them in jail.”
CHAPTER
-37-
MONDAY MORNING Luke found his thoughts drifting to his conversation with Abby after she returned home from Oregon. She’d called him after the lunch with Woody, assuring him that she was serious about wanting to help with the Cavanaugh investigation, and that surprised him. He also realized that no matter what was happening in either of their lives, they would always be connected by the Triple Seven.
“I’m sorry I ruined your time away, made you rush home.”
“You didn’t. I was already thinking it was time to come back.”
“You’d only been gone a little over a week.”
“Yeah, but I was running away. Anyway, don’t worry about it. Woody sounds at peace with his shooting. I know how unnerving such a thing can be. How are you doing?”
“Like I said, I’m glad Woody is a good shot.”
The sound of her chuckle, though subdued, was music to his ears.
“But why anyone like Ruiz,” Luke said, “or whoever he was working for, would be following me or burglarizing you is still a mystery.”
“Because it involves both of us, you know it has to be connected to the Triple Seven.”
“Why would anyone care about that case anymore? It’s closed, isn’t it?”
“Tight, according to the chief, and I’m okay with that.”
Luke almost shouted hallelujah when Abby made that statement: “I’m okay with that.” She’d said it before, but this time he felt she meant it.
She’d also voiced what he’d been thinking, but neither of them could come up with any reason why.
“I highly doubt that Ruiz was working on his own.”
“I agree.”
“Look, Luke, in the past I’ve been accused of obsessing over the Triple Seven, but I’m not. I do trust that no one will escape justice, nothing stays hidden. That being said, I think someone else is still worried about being found out.”
“I agree. Ruiz got orders from someone.”
“I think we need to find out who. Quietly. I don’t even want to say anything to Woody. This involves only us.”
He’d agreed with her, seeing wisdom in keeping any poking around they did quiet. It bugged him. Who would have any reason to be worried enough about what they had in their personal files to hire a burglar? Abby went on to ask if this disturbing new development meant that Kent had lied about his role in the murders and only covered for the real killer. Abby’s calm query surprised Luke because he thought she was still eager to dig and find answers.
Digging for the truth appealed to him more now than it had in a long time. The attack at his house had changed the dynamic for Luke, and when he shared that with Abby, she totally agreed and understood.
“This is just all too personal for us and the people close to us.”
“Hey, Luke, you listening?”
Luke looked up and felt his face redden. “Sorry; what did you say?”
“You rethinking carrying a gun?” Woody asked.
Luke shook his head. “Not right now. I can’t imagine being in another situation like that ever. If I see a tail in the future, I’m dialing 911 and stepping back.”
The quiet while the shooting investigation was going on had left Luke champing at the bit to get out to the high desert and to meet with the tipster, Brenda Harris. He was tempered only slightly by the knowledge that the woman could be another dead end. Her tip went nowhere ten years ago, and it would be the wildest stroke of luck to think that it would go anywhere now. But paying attention to details meant he had to check.
Detective Carney had an opening for Abby on Monday morning. She stopped by the station to look over what he and O’Reilly had on Alonzo Ruiz.
“Was he recording things?” Abby asked after she read the report they’d filed about all of the high-tech equipment in Ruiz’s car. “I’m almost 100 percent certain it was him following me. With all this stuff, he could have been tracking, recording . . .”
“He could have.” Carney nodded. “But we’ve found no indication of any recordings, and the trackers were never activated. Of course, he could have been recording and downloading the stuff straight to someone.”
Carney shook his head. “It’s the only investigation that involves you both. And so far you two are the only ones referenced in Ruiz’s sparse notes.”
The notes had creeped Abby out. Ruiz had tracked her for a week after the shooting, noting when she came and went, when Ethan was there, and when Abby was alone.
“We’re trying to figure out who he was working for,” Carney continued. “And if he was working alone, why.”
They were both silent for a moment.
“I’m just glad Jessica, Woody, and Luke are okay,” Abby said.
Carney snickered. “That lady is a tough customer. Were you missing anything?”
“No, it just looks like he riffled through my files. I had my Triple Seven book with me if that’s what he was after.”
“We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
Abby smiled. “I’m not worried. You guys are the best.”
“Are you coming back to work?”
“Yes, I am. But I’m not sure when Dr. Collins can fit me in. I have to talk to him before my return, and he’s in the middle of a crisis today.”
CHAPTER
-38-
KELSEY GRABBED the bottle of Advil and shook out four tablets, hoping they’d be enough to stop the pounding in her head. Nothing right now could help the feeling that she was losing her grip, she was hanging by one weak finger. She swallowed the pills without water and walked to the window of her hotel room. Years ago she’d learned the hard way that if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself. That had, in fact, been Gavin Kent’s motto.
If only I had made it my motto and lived by it, she thought, opening the wet bar refrigerator to get a bottle of water. The Advil was stuck in her throat.
After a swallow of water, the pills went down, and she worked hard to develop a plan to dig herself out of the pit Alonzo Ruiz had dug for her. All he was supposed to do was keep track of Hart and Murphy, make sure they weren’t opening doors they shouldn’t. His interpretation of that order not only got him killed, it threatened to expose everything. She hoped against hope that there was nothing in his possessions to connect them. She’d already disposed of the phone she’d used to speak to him. The only bright spot in the situation was that her employer was too involved in scheduling fund-raising events and kissing up to prospective donors to have heard what had happened.
Kelsey hoped, as she always did when Rollins made appearances and took questions from the press, that no one would ask about the Triple Seven. She knew the opposition was already considering running ads about the cold case and Gavin Kent’s involvement to hint at some shadow over Lowell Rollins. So far, he’d been able to deflect, and it hadn’t affected his approval numbers. If the subject came up in any interview, the governor always dodged, but it set Kelsey’s boss off like a cherry bomb. The boss had even threatened to send a personal aide, Quinn, a man Kelsey hated, to help her keep a lid on the Hart problem.
I don’t need anyone breathing down my neck about this, she thought, rubbing her shoulder. Especially not a gorilla like Quinn.
Kelsey believed she had time to clean up Ruiz’s mess, but was loath to look for someone else to take his place. Ruiz had been Gavin’s friend and contact. Gavin loved him because of his wizardry with electronics. There was no time to vet someone else. She had a short list of trustworthy people but hesitated to use it. After all, Ruiz had been the best as far as Gavin was concerned and he’d messed up. What if the next guy was worse?
She did what she learned to do as a cop: she organized all the information available to her and tried to map out her next move, always with the objective in mind to stop Hart and Murphy from opening any doors that needed to stay closed and keeping her boss placated and Quinn away.
If Hart weren’t already back in Long Beach, Kelsey was certain the shooting would bring her back. Ruiz’s bonehead move gave Kelsey a major migraine. She’d heard from her contact on the PD that Woods and Murphy would be heading to the Antelope Valley, and eventually as far as Tehachapi, on some cold case. She still didn’t believe Murphy posed any threat at all to her employer, particularly out in the high desert, but she knew better than to say that, especially in light of what happened with Ruiz.
As much as Kelsey hated to admit it, she wasn’t able to handle the situation herself. She needed eyes on Murphy, and she needed eyes on Hart. She couldn’t be two places at once. She had to find someone she could trust. A name came to mind. He wasn’t on her list, but he’d retired to the high desert and he liked cash. She knew him because he’d been a sheriff’s deputy. He’d gotten into serious trouble in Long Beach a long time ago, when sheriff’s deputies had been assigned to patrol North Long Beach during a budget crisis in the city, and she’d done him a favor. That favor had helped him keep his job and eventually his retirement. Kelsey made a point of keeping track of people who owed her. She was certain she could persuade him to do a little freelance surveillance. He didn’t strike her as someone who would be careless like Ruiz had been.
The Advil finally kicked in. Kelsey found the man’s number in her book and punched it in on her new burner phone.
“Jerry, I need a favor,” she said after they caught up on old times.
“I figured. There’s no reason for you to be talking to me unless you were calling in a marker.”
His voice was not bitter; rather there was resignation there. Kelsey was certain she’d made the right choice.
“I need some surveillance out your way, discreet, with regular reports about what’s happening.” She detailed the situation for him.
“Hmm,” Jerry said, then went quiet.
After a long minute while Kelsey held her breath, he said, “I can do that for the right price.”
Kelsey exhaled and relaxed. Money wasn’t an issue. They decided on a price and a method to connect with one another. He’d get a burner and text her. Headache gone, she disconnected and collapsed on the bed.
I can and have handled this. It will all work out in the end.
CHAPTER
-39-
AFTER THE WEEKEND, dealing with Ralph, then Monday’s meeting with Carney, Abby found herself with nothing pressing to do but walk Bandit. She’d left a message over the weekend with Dr. Collins’s answering service that she was home and was hoping for an appointment. They’d asked her if she had an emergency and she’d told them no. They advised that Dr. Collins was involved in a crisis and would call as soon as he was able. So far, she hadn’t heard anything.
Abby thought about Luke and Woody’s investigation and remembered Luke had a meeting with the tipster. The investigator in her felt a little pang of jealousy. That could be a good lead and she would have loved to be asking the questions. Once she and Bandit returned from the walk, she decided she’d try the doctor again. She called and was told Dr. Collins was almost free and would call her back as soon as he was able.
She wanted to return to work and had already spoken to Bill about their caseload. They discussed their double murder case; Carla Boston claimed temporary insanity. Bill still insisted Abby take her time.
“You handled things for a while without a partner. I can do the same until you’re 100 percent sure about what you want.”
At this point Abby wasn’t 100 percent sure about anything but that the opportunity to try to help Molly was appealing. Her thoughts drifted to the girl often. Abby had looked up PTSD, or post-traumatic stress disorder, and realized it might even be applied to her, if she hadn’t gotten past the turmoil over shooting Clayton Joiner. It was a disorder that affected some people after they saw or lived through a dangerous event. Even though Molly’s event had happened ten years ago, it still affected her.
Abby ached to help the girl. Luke had e-mailed her a summary of the case, and she knew that Molly had faith, but right now it was fractured, something Abby could relate to. She reread the summary
and had just finished when the psychologist returned her call.
“I’m doing much better,” she told him in answer to his first question. “Going home helped me put things into perspective.”
“Glad to hear it. Are you ready to discuss returning to work?”
“Yes, I am.”
“It may not be right away, but I’ll do my best. I’ll need to set up an appointment to meet with you, and this week is full. Make an appointment for first thing next week. I’ll give Lieutenant Jacoby an update and explain the scheduling. Is that fair?”
“Fair. Can I ask you an unrelated question?”
“Sure, I have a minute.”
Abby told him about Molly and her desire to help since she believed that they both struggled with the same thing.
“Abby, it’s laudable that you want to help, but you’re not a mental health professional.”
“I know that, but I am a detective. I’d like to help with the crime, see if we can solve the case and give the girl closure. That might be a big step forward for her, to see the rapist caught.”
“Yes, but giving the girl false hope when the crime might never be solved would not be a good thing. Do your thing, investigate, but encourage the girl to find her validation in the here and now, the people who love and support her. Agreed?”
“Totally,” Abby said, understanding and feeling an odd connection to the girl who’d been through such a tough event.
Collins rang off after she set up the appointment for the following Tuesday. She doubted Molly’s case could be solved in a week, but at least she’d be able to talk to her and maybe help in a small way. She was on a firm foundation again, felt confident. Jacoby might even call and talk to her, and she’d tell him what she told the psychologist. She was ready to go back to homicide and be an advocate for those who could no longer speak for themselves. She also wanted to head out to the Antelope Valley and see if she could help a hurting girl.
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