Burning Proof (9 page)

TUESDAY MORNING
found Luke with a large cup of coffee and an open Bible on his lap before the sun came up. Asa’s notes and Abby Hart invaded his thoughts and fractured his prayer time. He’d made copies of the notes but had trouble following the man’s reasoning. The problem of Lucy Harper nagged at him. The fact that Asa seemed to have found this link almost fifteen years ago and then sat on it irritated Luke. Asa was supposed to be one of the good guys.

As for Abby Hart, it also bothered him that Woody wanted to keep the information from her. Luke didn’t believe in secrets, at least not about something like this. True, she had a lot on her plate right now, not the least of which was a fatal shooting. But there was something else that got Luke up and out of bed so early, driving him to the Word for wisdom and guidance.

Abby was off work and leaving to spend time away with Ethan Carver.

Of all the turmoil of the past week
 
—having a fugitive threaten him with a gun, hearing about Abby’s shooting, and
recovering the hidden files from Asa’s safe
 
—this bit of news rocked Luke more than anything. The jealousy that boiled up shook him hard. He came face-to-face with the fact that he’d been hoping that Ethan and Abby would end their engagement and the realization made him ashamed.

“You can’t be trusted! You don’t keep your word!”

His train of thought trailed off as the memory of one of his dead wife’s accusations rang in his ear. He’d promised her he’d talk to her first about reenlisting but then went ahead and made plans to do so. He knew she didn’t want him to stay in the Army. At the time he figured he’d reenlist and she’d just have to deal with it. Shame caused heat to flush his face. He’d said he loved her when he married her, that he wanted to share his life with her, but when it came down to it, all he wanted to do was live for himself.

Luke closed the Bible and got up to pace his office and pray. He asked for forgiveness though he knew he’d already been forgiven. He hoped he was a different man now, that he’d changed and he’d never treat a woman that way again. His service to the Army and his unit had usurped any loyalty he felt for his wife and family. Was it possible his job, his quest to find the lost and close cold cases, could do the same thing?

He shuddered with the fear that it could. Abby deserved someone who would keep his word, someone who could be trusted. For her, that was Ethan, and Luke should pray that everything worked out between them. And then, for everyone in his life, he needed to be a trustworthy man. They deserved that. Luke prayed he would be that man, that he would be strong enough to keep his word no matter what, and trustworthy enough to never again make an empty vow.

Later Tuesday, when everyone was up and about their day, Luke got a call from Faye Fallon.

“Thank you, Mr. Murphy, for talking to me.”

“No problem. Call me Luke. Cold cases are near and dear to my heart. If I can help, I want to.”

“I’m so glad. I’ve actually heard of you. I saw a YouTube video that really impressed me, but I wasn’t certain you’d want to come all the way out to the Antelope Valley to work a case. My foundation can pay, and we can discuss rates.”

The woman’s voice was musical, calming, and a little sexy. It made him want to say yes immediately. But instead he said, “I’d like to learn more about it before I commit.”

“Of course. If you give me your e-mail, I’ll send you a case summary. I’ll be in Long Beach tomorrow. My cousin lives there and it’s her birthday. I’m taking her to dinner. That will give you some time to read the summary and then maybe we can meet and talk it over.”

“That sounds perfect.” He gave her his e-mail address, and they made arrangements to meet for coffee before her dinner.

“One more thing,” Fallon said before they disconnected. “I do have a contact at the sheriff’s department. He’s said he’ll help. He has the authority to give you access to the files. I don’t have any quarrel with the sheriff’s investigation, but they have so much work, it’s hard for them to spend a lot of resources on a ten-year-old case.”

“I understand. I have the greatest respect for law enforcement and would never step on any toes.”

The case summary was waiting in his in-box when he logged on. Luke opened it and printed it out.

Molly Cavanaugh was their victim in the ten-year-old case. A note at the beginning mentioned California Penal Code 801.1(a) and the statute of limitations pertaining to the situation. She was sixteen when she was kidnapped and raped, and the ten-year anniversary was about four months ago. The dry summary said a lot without hyperbole.

Victim states she was waiting for the bus outside the Antelope Valley Mall at marked, official bus stop. The bus was running late and she states a clean-cut, male white subject driving a late-model Ford Mustang pulled to the curb and contacted her, asking if she wanted a ride. The male subject appeared to her to be in his twenties, and because of his short hair, she thought he was possibly in the service. Tired of waiting, the victim accepted his offer. Instead of driving her home, the suspect drove to an abandoned strip mall where he produced a knife and sexually assaulted the victim, then bound her wrists and ankles with a rough, hemp rope and placed her in his trunk. The victim felt the vehicle move as she struggled inside the trunk and was able to free her wrists and ankles and eventually able to open the trunk lid. Victim cannot say for certain how long she was in the trunk, how far the vehicle had traveled before she got the trunk open. She rolled out of the moving car, found herself on a dirt road she was not familiar with, and ran. Victim believes the suspect chased her, but did not look back. She saw another
vehicle and headed that way. Two Air Force personnel were in the second vehicle. They stopped, rendered assistance to the victim, and called 911. Neither saw the suspect or his vehicle.

The summary went on to say that the original investigating officers felt that the suspect was going to kill Molly and dump her body somewhere in the vast emptiness of the Mojave Desert. Though the rape kit recovered a DNA sample and Molly gave a detailed description of her attacker, he was never apprehended.

After dinner that night, Luke shared the summary with Woody.

“Definitely a case for us,” Woody said after he read the printout.

“Tomorrow I’ll meet with Faye Fallon. Why don’t you come along?”

“Sounds like a plan. Are you disappointed about the delay in the cold case squad?”

“Yeah. But I believe being given this case, having the chance to help this young girl, is a great consolation.”

“CONCENTRATE
on what you know is right; then everything else will fall into place.”

Abby tried hard all day Tuesday to follow Woody’s advice. She called her aunt and told her about what was going on in her life. Dede prayed with her and expressed excitement that Abby planned on coming home. After their conversation Abby tried to stay busy and occupied, cleaning and organizing her house, anything to keep her mind off Joiner.

By Wednesday morning at seven thirty, she was ready to hit the road, ready to run away. That thought stopped her cold.

Am I really running away?

“Do you mind if I plant things?”

“What?” Abby looked up from the pile of belongings splayed out on her bed and shoved the idea of fleeing from her thoughts, focusing on her friend Jessica Brennan, now also her house sitter. Though Abby was taking Bandit with her, she still liked the idea of someone watching the house and watering the few plants she hadn’t yet killed.

“Like flowers and stuff,” Jessica said.

“Mind? I don’t mind, but you don’t have to go to any trouble. It will put me at ease knowing that you’re here keeping an eye on things.”

Jessica smiled. “No trouble. You forget, I live in an apartment. I can’t muck about in the dirt, and I’d like to. You have a blank canvas in your backyard.”

Abby hadn’t driven to her childhood home in Lake Creek, Oregon, in years. She hated the barren center of the state of California, the hot ribbon of Highway 5 that bisected the Central Valley. It was always a sweltering, dry drive. She preferred the quick, easy, and relatively inexpensive flight to the Medford airport, thirty minutes from Aunt Dede’s house.

But she had a dog now and she had no desire to leave him in a kennel, nor subject him to an airplane flight, so she’d decided to drive. Jessica had interrupted the new dilemma she’d created for herself; suddenly what she’d take with her had become an unexpected knot of a problem.

Distracted by her stuff and the offer, she looked at Jessica. “Can I give you some mon
 
—?”

“No, no, no! It will be my pleasure.” She redirected Abby to the mess of items strewn on the bed. “Finish packing. Are you taking everything?”

Returning her concentration to the pile of stuff in front of her, Abby chewed on her bottom lip. “I can’t decide. When you fly, you can only take so much. Now I have too many options.” Another thing she wrestled with was that she really had no idea how long she’d be gone.

She’d gotten up early and should have already completed packing. Her finishing touches were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“You expecting someone?” Jessica asked.

“No,” she said, frowning. It was early, an odd time for any visitors. She grabbed her handgun and proceeded to the front door.

Jessica looked at the gun and stepped back into the hallway. “I guess you don’t want me to get it.”

“Sorry; I’m a bit paranoid with all the protests about the shooting,” she said as she peeked through the window and nearly dropped the gun.

Bracing herself, she shoved the gun in a side table drawer and answered the door.

“Chief Cox. And, uh, Governor Rollins,” Abby was sure her jaw hit the floor and she did the best she could to recover. “What brings you two to my door this early?”

Lowell Rollins was the last person she expected to see on her porch, and Kelsey Cox was the next to last.

The woman was as close to a personal enemy as Abby had, and the man . . . Abby just wasn’t certain about him. Her last meeting with the governor had been surreal; he’d effectively closed the door on the investigation into her parents’ death. And the last time Abby had seen the then–deputy chief, she’d accused Abby of killing Gavin Kent, though it was Kent who shot himself in front of them both.

“I retired, remember?” Cox smiled a decidedly fake smile, Abby thought, but she was determined not to be antagonistic and said nothing as Cox continued. “You don’t need to call me chief anymore. I work for Governor Rollins now. That’s why I’m here with him today; I’m his security chief.”

Rollins spoke up as if on cue. “Abby, it’s nice to see you again. You look well.” His deep voice registered the concern she saw in his face. “You’ve been through such an ordeal.”

He paused but Abby stayed quiet, not at all sure what to make of this visit.

Nodding to Cox, he said, “Both Kelsey and I, we hope we can put any bad blood you may feel is lingering behind us.”

“Yes, Abby,” Cox said. “What happened the day Gavin . . . Well, that was an emotional day.” She swallowed, and for a second the look on her face made Abby feel sorry for her. The woman was obviously in pain. But the expression passed quickly and Cox went on.

“Governor Rollins heard through the grapevine that you had taken a leave of absence.”

“And since we were in town on a separate issue, I wanted to stop by and find out if you’d decided to take me up on my job offer.” The governor leaned close, taking a conspiratorial tone. “My confidence in you is unshaken by anything I’ve read in the press. On my team you’ll be protected, stood up for.”

Abby rocked back on her heels, nonplussed for a moment. Yes, he had asked her if she’d consider working for him, but that was the furthest thing from her mind in any universe of thought. That she’d still be on his radar in such a high profile way after all that had happened surprised her.

“My leave of absence is for personal reasons. I’m driving home. In fact, I was just packing. I plan on leaving in a few minutes.”

“Home? That would be to Oregon, correct?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered the governor. But it was Cox whose expression she saw. Kelsey seemed relieved, and Abby wondered why.

“I want you to know that the offer will stay open. You belong on my team. I think you would find that while working for me, your talents would be appreciated, not trashed by uninformed protesters.”

“Thanks,” Abby said, not really knowing what else to say.

The governor nodded once as if to end the conversation. “You have a safe trip,” he said before leaving.

Kelsey smiled as if in agreement, but Abby doubted that. Cox stepped off the porch with the governor, turning back at the bottom. “He’s going to win this election, so don’t forget what an honor it will be to work for a United States Senator.” With that, the pair continued to a waiting car. A shiny, expensive luxury SUV, Abby noted. And Kelsey got behind the wheel. Was the car hers or the governor’s?

“Wow, that was
X-Files
weird,” Jessica observed as she stepped forward.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“It’s like they’re checking up on you.”

Abby closed the door and moved down the hall to continue packing. “I guess I better hurry up and get on the road so no one else can check up on me.”

Back in her office, her eye caught the notebook that contained her Triple Seven investigation. Abby had promised herself and her aunt that she would finally let the investigation go, trusting that the killers, if there were more than Gavin Kent, would face God’s justice one day.

But Kent’s vague confession left more questions than it answered.

Had he acted alone?

If he did kill her mother, why?

Two men died with her mother. Luke Goddard had been positively identified, but hearsay said that the male next to her mother had been erroneously identified as her father. What about that? What really happened that day?

She probably wouldn’t even have noticed the book, or at least given it a second look, if Rollins and Cox hadn’t come to the door. Cox had been there when Kent killed himself, so now in Abby’s opinion, Cox was part of the investigation.

On impulse, Abby grabbed the notebook and all the information she’d gathered regarding the murder and threw them into her backpack. Maybe she wouldn’t look at it, but maybe she would.

She put everything she wanted with her in the car, along with Bandit and all the things he needed for the trip. Her trunk was full, and the ice chest with drinks and snacks went in the backseat. She looked at Jessica, leaning against the porch railing.

“Thanks again, Jessica. I’ll call you as soon as I know when I’ll be back.”

“No rush. Enjoy yourself. Don’t worry about anything here.”

Abby nodded and climbed into the car. Before she started off, she sent a text to Ethan, letting him know she was leaving so he’d have a good idea about when she would arrive. It was a twelve-hour drive, so she had a long day ahead of her.

She was still pondering Kelsey’s visit an hour later as she sat on the 405 freeway in traffic, crawling north out of LA.

Governor Rollins wanted her on his team, he said, but she never took the offer seriously. Even if she thought the offer was serious, she wasn’t interested in being someone’s bodyguard.

But what am I now? A homicide cop who can’t do her job.