Burning Proof

by Janice Cantore

  “I’ve been there as well.” Abby shared with Julia her own faith journey. “My aunt helped me immensely by pointing out that I was hiding. When I came out of hiding, I realized that my foundation had slipped. I had to get back to the basics. Maybe that’s where Molly is now.”

  Julia put a hand on Abby’s. “I think you do understand. The hard thing will be getting Molly to listen.”

  “I wish I could hang around in case you need my help, but I have quite a few commitments in Palmdale that I need to take care of,” Faye told Luke as they stepped outside the deli.

  “It’d be nice to have your help,” Luke said, losing himself in her deep-blue eyes. “But we understand, and we have it covered.” He extended his hand.

  She took it in both of hers. “Call me as soon as you have any information, if you are able.”

  “Will do.”

  He realized she let him hold her hand probably longer than he should have when he heard Woody clearing his throat.

  Letting go, Luke stepped back so Woody could say his good-bye to Faye. They watched her get into her car and drive away before heading for their rental.

  “Uh-huh,” Woody said as he unlocked the car doors.

  “What?”

  “Pretty woman. She sure does like you.” He arched an eyebrow Luke’s way.

  Luke gave a dismissive wave and climbed into the car, pulling at his collar as the heat rose in his face.

  As they returned to the computer store, Luke couldn’t help but think about the last ten years of scrupulously avoiding any kind of entanglements with women as he worked hard on being Maddie’s dad and getting his business going. To suddenly be so attracted to two women staggered him a bit. He prayed for focus as he drove.

  “Looks like he’s here,” Luke said as they pulled into the parking lot. The same van was in the handicapped spot in front of the store. Since he now knew that Barone was in a wheelchair, he figured this was his transport.

  “Let’s go check him out.”

  When they entered the store, the same guy they’d spoken to earlier saw them immediately.

  “Gil, they’re back,” he called out.

  As they reached the counter, a man in a wheelchair, presumably Barone, rolled out of the back room toward them. Luke studied the bearded face. The eyes could be the eyes from Molly’s composite. The bone structure, what he could see of it, looked right. But how long had this guy been wheelchair bound? His arms and shoulders were ripped, powerful, not something Molly ever mentioned about her attacker. Luke could see that this guy spent a lot of time with weights. Was that to compensate for the loss of his legs?

  “The private eyes,” Barone said, a sneer in his voice. “What is it you want?”

  His antagonistic attitude immediately made Luke’s dirtbag detector buzz. He introduced himself and Woody.

  “We just had a couple questions about an old crime, a rape that happened in Lancaster a while ago.”

  “How long ago?” The way Barone asked the question, the tone of his voice, gave Luke the feeling that the guy was toying with them.

  “Ten years. May of 2005 to be precise.”

  “I was in Iraq then.” He held his hands out. “Came back with this wonderful chair.”

  “Did you serve?”

  Barone shook his head. “I was a truck driver for ACME. They were civilian trucking contractors. They had me moving supplies, ran over an IED. So there—I can’t have any information about what happened in the AV if I wasn’t here, can I?”

  He was mocking them. Luke felt his temper simmer. But there was nowhere to go. He cast a glance at Woody, who had his cop face on, unreadable. They had no leverage, no choice but to leave and check out his story.

  “Can I get back to work now?”

  Woody put a hand on his shoulder, kept Luke from saying something he shouldn’t.

  “Thanks for your time, Mr. Barone,” Woody said. He turned to leave, tapping Luke’s arm, but Luke was locked into a stare with Barone. There was no way to dial back the vibe he was getting. He knew the man was lying, knew the man was evil.

  He finally broke away to leave with Woody. As soon as they were out of the store, he said, “That guy is dirty.”

  “I agree,” Woody said, “but we have to prove it.”

  “What a couple of dorks,” Bart giggled. “Guess you showed them.”

  “Top of the food chain,” Gil said. He wheeled himself into the back room, leaving Bart to help some customers who just entered. As soon as he was out of Bart’s view, his grin faded.

  Despite all of his bravado for Bart’s benefit, Gil feared now that his luck had run out. He’d lied about the date he was in Iraq, and the two detectives would figure that out eventually. They’d be back. He’d considered trying to Haskellize them, but the younger one—there was something about his eyes. When he looked into them, Gil knew at a gut level that there would be no snowing that guy.

  He’d researched the crime. They had his DNA because his victim had lived to be examined. They would put two and two together soon enough. And while he could hack into a lot of things, because of the way DNA samples were entered, hacking CODIS was out of his realm of expertise, even if he had the time.

  He grabbed his grip strengthener and tried to think. If he was going to go down, he would go in a big way. No way was he going to prison, not in a wheelchair. No way.

  CHAPTER

  -52-

  ABBY WAS ON HER WAY to talk to Molly. Luke read her text when he and Woody returned to their car. He thought about having her ask Molly if she’d seen Gil. They already knew that her sister had. But not knowing how Molly was doing made him hesitate. He’d wait until he talked to Abby. Right now he needed to ferret out the truth about Barone’s story.

  He sat down with his laptop as soon as he and Woody returned to the hotel. Looking up ACME Transport was easy enough, but when he narrowed it down to a company that would have been operating in Northridge or the Antelope Valley, the areas they were most certain Barone had been in, he came up with a company that had gone bankrupt in 2008.

  Sitting back in his chair, Luke ran a hand over his head. “Argh. No one to talk to at ACME. It’s a bust.”

  “He knew that. That’s why he threw us that bone,” Woody said, but Luke noticed that he was looking down at his phone while he talked, working on a text.

  “You got a new girlfriend?” Luke asked. He grinned when Woody looked up at him.

  “I guess in a way you could say that. I’ve been in contact with that rescue agency lady, Carol. She’s trying to find me a dog. Ed’s been mopey since Ralph left us. The neighbor boy taking care of him while I’m here called me to say he was worried. So I want to find him a friend.” He put the phone down. “I’m not that handy with the computer, but I can put a hold on this until after we’re finished if you have something for me.”

  Luke waved him off. “There’s not a lot for us to do right now. We’re kind of at a dead end. I’ve got to find someone to talk to me about ACME and then, depending on what I learn, get ahold of Jones and give him what we have so far. You’re fine. I hope you find a dog.”

  “Thanks.” His attention went back to the phone.

  “But you never cease to amaze me.” Luke shook his head in wonder. He picked up his own phone and called Orson, leaving a message, asking if there was any way he could find a contact person for ACME, a bankrupt civilian contractor for the Army.

  He’d no sooner set the phone down than it rang.

  “That was fast. Are you screening?”

  There was silence for a moment and then a female voice said, “Excuse me?”

  Luke double-checked the number and saw that it wasn’t Orson on the other end.

  “I’m sorry. This is Luke Murphy. Can I help you?”

  “You left a card at my house. You were looking for Lucy Harper.”

  “Yes, I did. I am.” He sat up straight and tapped Woody on the shoulder, mouthing, “Lucy.” “I’m looking for Lucy Harper, a woman who used to live
in Long Beach, California. Is that you?”

  “How did you find us?”

  “I’m a cold case investigator, a private investigator.”

  There was a long pause and Luke held his breath.

  “Why do you want her?”

  “I think she may have information about a crime that happened a long time ago. I would just like to talk to her, ask her a couple of questions. She’s not in any trouble.”

  “Mr. Murphy, my mother had a stroke. She doesn’t speak anymore.”

  “Oh.” Luke closed his eyes, then looked at Woody, who understood that this was another dead end. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Does she communicate at all?”

  “No. But there is something.” The woman paused. “I have something of hers I would like to give you. Maybe it’s what you want.”

  “What is that?”

  “Some papers. My mother had them in a safe-deposit box. She’s had them since she lived in Long Beach. I almost threw them away. If you want them, I’ll meet you somewhere and give them to you.”

  Luke crossed his fingers, wondering if this was a bone, something helpful, or simply another waste of time. What would it hurt to take a look?

  “Sure, I’ll meet you. Name the place. Right now I’m in Tehachapi.”

  They made arrangements to meet the next morning at a gas station off the highway between Tehachapi and Bakersfield.

  Luke disconnected, praying that this was the smoking gun, something both he and Abby could rejoice over.

  CHAPTER

  -53-

  “THAT’S YOUR PLAN? Go after the guy first?” Quinn sneered at Kelsey.

  “I’m saying it will be easier to get to him out there. And we’ll have time to decide the best course of attack. I have an eye on him there.”

  “Meaning you don’t have an eye on the woman.”

  “She’s either in Long Beach or out in the desert with the guy.”

  “You can’t be sure one way or the other?”

  “My contact told me she planned to go out there. I’m just not certain she’s there yet.”

  “It would be to our advantage to take care of both of them at the same time.”

  “I agree. That’s why I think the best place to start is out there.”

  Quinn started to say something, then stopped. At least the sneer is gone, Kelsey thought. He sees my logic.

  “The eye you have on the guy out in the desert, he trustworthy?”

  “He owes me, so yeah, I think he is.”

  “Call him. Make sure our guy is where you think he is and then let me talk to him.”

  Kelsey bit her tongue, hating having to take orders from Quinn. She called Jerry while Quinn drove. They’d picked up a nondescript rental car, and the only thing she didn’t mind about this arrangement was him driving.

  She asked Jerry to confirm where Murphy was. He told her the PI was staying in Tehachapi, at the La Quinta hotel.

  “You’ve seen him?” Quinn asked. The call was on speaker.

  Jerry hesitated.

  “It’s okay, Jerry. He works with me,” Kelsey said, hoping to allay Jerry’s fear.

  “I have a guy I trust in town watching him—”

  Quinn shot Kelsey a dirty look. “Who?” he demanded. She knew he was mad that another person was involved. She was upset as well; she hadn’t known that Jerry would involve someone else, but she wasn’t going to let her irritation show.

  “Guy who runs the local computer shop. His dad was a deputy. I trust him. He does a lot of stuff besides computers.” The implication in Jerry’s voice was that this man did illegal things. “He sent me the guy’s license plate and confirmed the guy is there, investigating an old crime.”

  “I want his information,” Quinn demanded. “Can you text it to us?”

  “Kelsey, what is this?”

  “Trust me. Just send me what you know about this guy. It’s no big deal; we’re just checking up. Your work is finished. You’ll be paid. The money will be in your account tomorrow.”

  That seemed to placate Jerry. Kelsey disconnected.

  “Money he’ll never spend,” Quinn said.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, unease spreading through her gut.

  “You don’t think we can leave any loose ends, do you? You’ve made more work for us. There are two more names to add to the list.”

  She shivered. A few seconds later the text from Jerry came through.

  Rubbing her forehead, she realized she was in far deeper than she’d ever wanted to be. Stuck in a car with a dangerous moron like Quinn, heading out to kill two people—now four—she was trapped. Her employer had gone around the bend letting this guy off his leash. His presence and his accent were already grating on her nerves; now they made her afraid.

  She’d also lost her grip on the ledge and was in free fall, without the energy to fight with him. He’d probably dictate the plan, and once they set it in motion, they’d have to strike quickly or she’d lose her nerve. As it was, when they hit the 14 freeway and traffic jammed to a stop, she knew it would be dark before they arrived in Tehachapi. Part of her wondered if she should just give in, point a gun at Quinn, and make him turn around. Then she’d march into the homicide office and tell the truth about those murders so many years ago.

  She heard Gavin’s voice in her head saying that that would be quitting.

  But you quit on me! her mind screamed. She barely kept the tears at bay, knowing that to show such weakness in Quinn’s presence would be her death.

  I’m crazy, she thought, certifiable, talking to a dead man. But once this is over, my place on Rollins’s team will be solidified, set in concrete. All I need to do is be thorough, careful, and this ugly chapter in my life will be over for good.

  Fists formed so tight her knuckles turned white and her fingernails cut into her palms as traffic inched forward.

  CHAPTER

  -54-

  THE MORE ABBY AND JULIA TALKED, the more the woman reminded her of Dede. While in Faye Fallon Abby had seen the compassion she always saw in her aunt, in Julia she saw the patience and kindness that radiated from Dede. She was on the phone now, checking to see if it was okay if Abby came over.

  She disconnected and smiled. “Molly’s home and she’d like to talk to you. Why don’t you follow me over, and I’ll introduce you.”

  “I’d love to.”

  All the way over, Abby prayed for the right words, for the wisdom to know what to say to this girl, this survivor.

  The Cavanaughs lived in a subdivision not far from a park. After parking at the curb, Abby followed Julia into the house.

  “Molly?” she called out.

  “In here, Mom.”

  Abby and Julia walked into what looked to Abby like a family room. Her eye was immediately drawn to a bookcase on the wall to her right. There were awards and trophies lined up. Molly’s name was on several swimming awards. She knew the girl worked on an ambulance and was an EMT. There was a plaque citing her for bravery, for pulling a motorist out of a burning car.

  “Molly, this is Detective Hart, the police officer I told you about.”

  “Hello, Molly.” Abby stepped toward the girl, who set down the controls to a video game but didn’t stand. She wore a brace on one wrist and a knee-high walking cast on one leg. That foot sat up on an ottoman. The girl’s expression was bland, uninterested.

  As Abby looked at Molly, her chest tightened. She smiled and stepped forward to extend her hand.

  It was a few seconds before Molly reciprocated and they shook. Molly’s eyes were haunted and Abby recognized them; they were victim eyes. This girl had endured brutality, lived through it, and discovered it was often harder to survive than it was to escape.

  Abby had struggled with the loss of her parents in much the same way. But when she heard the message of Christ, the burden lifted. But Molly knows the message, yet she is in despair.

  Please, Lord, help me to help this girl, Abby prayed as she saw the scars on Molly’s uncovered
wrist. Abby knew they were there because she’d been cutting herself—not to commit suicide, but to replicate the cuts the rapist’s ropes left all those years ago. Like her mother had said, because he’d never been caught, the girl doubted her own memory of the attack.

  Suddenly Abby’s world, her focus, shifted into clarity.

  The years of her own obsession.

  The pain and disappointment of coming so close to a solution only to have it snatched away.

  The shooting.

  And everything that pressed on her own soul and sent her running away to her aunt.

  But Dede had helped her to realize there’s really no place to hide if you live life with a purpose. And her purpose for five years had been acting as a voice for those who had theirs brutally silenced. Abby knew that well now, as well as she knew that God was sovereign in all things, good and bad. Althea had even said it: “The Lord can and does bring good out of the bad, the painful.”

  Helping people like Molly to see that she couldn’t let that one evil act define her—drain the life from her, keep her from her purpose—was Abby’s calling.

  How can I help her to see all of this? How can I help her to stand whether or not her bad guy is ever caught?

  “You think you can help me, huh?”

  Taken aback by the semi-hostile tone, Abby ignored the challenge. “I’m Abby.” She pointed at the plaque. “You pulled someone from a burning car? Impressive.”

  Molly hiked one shoulder, but something flickered in her eyes. Pride maybe? “My partner and I rolled up on a crash that just happened. We had to help; there was no way we could drive past. That was a few years ago.”

  “Still, it takes courage to face fire like that. I hate fire.”