Burning Proof (21 page)

KELSEY KNEW THERE WAS GOING TO BE TROUBLE
after she read the transcript of the interview. The reporter had the audacity to ask Lowell Rollins about Gavin Kent and his murder confession followed by suicide.

“Did you actually have a longtime aide who was a confessed murderer and not know anything about it?”

Lowell was a politician. He made it through the interview without losing his composure, and Kelsey knew the friendly reporter was satisfied.

But her employer was not happy and as expected went ballistic. Kelsey kept her mouth shut as her boss raged to the point of histrionics, even throwing a glass into the fireplace to shatter into a thousand pieces.

“I want her dealt with now!” Pointing at Kelsey. “Do you know where she is?”

“Of course. You wanted me to keep tabs on her.”

“Well, finish her and that stupid PI. I want her and Murphy out of the way permanently.”

Kelsey saw the bloodlust in her boss’s eyes and cringed
inside. For the first time since she took the job Gavin’s death had given her, she wondered if she really wanted it. Was this position, this shot at a life in the national spotlight, worth what this person asked of her? But where would she go if she quit? A lifetime of choices had brought her to this place, choices she couldn’t take back.

When she didn’t immediately respond to her boss, the rebuke came. “What? You don’t have the stomach to handle this? Do I need to find someone else?”

“I’ll handle it,” Kelsey said. There was no point in saying that Hart’s death, especially if it was violent and unexplained, might open up a whole other can of worms. Nope, she’d do what she was told and deal with the fallout when it came.

“See that you do. And just because I want to be certain, take Quinn with you.”

“Quinn? He’s part of the personal protection detail. Why
 
—?”

“We have plenty of protection in place. This is important. I want that woman and everyone connected with that investigation erased permanently, now. I’ve already told Quinn he’s with you for a couple of days. He’ll do what he’s told and keep his mouth shut.”

Kelsey was left speechless and dismissed. Quinn, the person Kelsey hated most in the organization, was to be her partner. He was a Brit. He’d been a bobby but quit to join a global security company. That’s where Gavin found him when he was looking for extra help. Gavin and Quinn connected on a macho he-man level, but Kelsey never liked him, hated the way he looked at her and the way his accent always made him sound condescending and smug. Her employer, on the other hand, loved the accent, considered it class while everyone else thought it pretentious.

She left the office and headed for her car in a daze. Though it had been threatened before, it had never occurred to her that her employer would want to be separated from Quinn during this frenzy of fund-raising. Kill two people? Quinn could do it without raising his pulse rate, of that Kelsey was certain.

Maybe she should see this as a positive, let Quinn do the dirty work. But once she stepped off the elevator and saw Quinn smirking at her in the lobby, she knew there was nothing positive about this situation. He had a travel bag slung over his shoulder. She’d been ordered to kill, to murder two people, and Quinn must detect no hesitation to her steps in that direction.

Her hands went numb as she pulled the car keys from her purse and motioned for the big oaf to follow her to the parking lot. Feeling cornered, and surprised she had any left, she fought the tears that threatened. She wished she could hold Gavin one more time and ask him how the two of them ever got to this point. Meanwhile, her grip slipped completely and she felt herself falling off the cliff, deep into a pit that had no bottom.

BEFORE ABBY LEFT FOR TEHACHAPI,
Ethan called with the news that he was driving back to Long Beach. He’d be getting in late but wanted to see Abby the next day.

“It’s great you’ll be home, but . . .”

“Are you back to work already?”

“No . . .” She explained to him where she was going and what she’d be doing.

“Are you really needed there? I think Woody would have a good grip on things.”

“I want to help. I feel for the victim. I don’t think I’ll be there more than a night, maybe two.”

“I’m leaving for Malawi soon. We really need to talk.”

“Ethan, I’ll do my best to hurry back.”

He didn’t sound happy with her answer but ended the call by asking her to be careful and telling her that he’d be praying.

That touched Abby deeply because she knew Ethan was praying for her welfare, not that she would bend to his will. “I love that, Ethan, and know that the reverse is true.” For the rest of the drive she wondered if she should have cancelled her trip
to Tehachapi to be there when Ethan arrived. After a struggle she decided, no, she needed to help Molly if she could.

She easily found the deli Woody had told her about on the phone. She reached it just before Luke and Woody pulled up. Luke smiled when he saw her and held up his hand, and she felt giddy. Chastising herself, she smacked the center console, wondering if the fleeting irritation she felt with Ethan was fueling this attraction to Luke. No, she decided, she liked Luke for a lot of reasons. But he was and always would be a colleague, nothing more, even with their Triple Seven connection.

It’s not a social day. This is work,
she thought as she got out of the car.

“How’d your interview with the suspect go?” she asked as a gust of wind pushed her toward the street. This high desert town was a windy place; no surprise it was the wind farm capital of Southern California.

“He wasn’t there, so we struck out for now.” Luke reached out to steady her. Abby wanted his touch, but she didn’t want it and struggled not to feel awkward or react from the shot of heat that resulted from the contact. She couldn’t deny it, no matter how hard she tried; his presence and his smile were warm, friendly, and something she hoped to see more of.

She saw that Woody was still in the car and felt the need to shift focus. “What’s up with Woody?”

“He’s talking to a friend who works for campus police at Cal State.”

“Sheldon?”

“You know him?”

“Yep, he was a friend of Woody’s from his academy class.
But he didn’t make it through field training. Cal State police eventually hired him; he’s the chief there now.”

“Whoa, I’m impressed. Woody has friends in high places.”

“We’ll probably get some good info.”

Woody climbed out of the car.

“Anything?” Luke asked.

“Sheldon researched. Your boy did get kicked out of college. He was caught peeping.”

“Peeping?”

“Yes, at the dorms. Several complaints. That, and there was also a charge of sexual battery. He was cited, but the case was dropped, and then the college asked him to leave.”

“The college cops cited him?”

“No, LBPD did. The east division commander stepped in and persuaded the victim to forgive and forget, from what he says. Sheldon remembers the incident. He was a sergeant then, and apparently the fact that Barone’s dad was a sheriff’s deputy helped. Sheldon thinks the dad might have even intervened. He might have spoken to the east commander at the time
 
—you know, asked for a little professional courtesy. All of this is hearsay, of course, but I think it probably paints a good picture of what happened. This was in 2001.”

“Yeah, I can see that picture,” Abby said, thinking of how a father would intervene for his dirtbag son. She fell back as another gust of wind caught her off-balance.

Woody nodded. “Why don’t we go inside before we all blow away?”

Abby appreciated getting out of the wind, but she still felt bowled over, even after they were led to a table and Luke’s arm brushed hers.

The gooseflesh wasn’t from the wind.

“I forgot to tell you guys what happened the day I left for Oregon. Talking about the east division made me think of Kelsey Cox.”

“Did you run into her?” Woody asked.

“Sort of.” She told them about the governor and Kelsey’s visit.

“Both of them? Guess the governor really wants you on his protection team,” Woody said.

Abby made a face.

Then a beautiful blonde woman swept into the deli. Luke saw her and stood. Woody looked toward the door and did the same.

“Hello, Faye, great to see you again,” Luke said.

So this was the blogger, Faye Fallon. Abby couldn’t help but notice Luke’s reaction to the beautiful woman. His face brightened; he seemed transfixed. She’d seen the same kind of reaction from male officers sometimes, when contacting pretty female complaining parties. A sick knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She worked hard to keep her face from showing emotion, knowing that of all the people in her life, it was Luke who read her the best. Almost as quickly as the feeling overwhelmed her, she fought back, wondering why on earth she thought she had any claim on Luke. For as long as she’d known him, she’d been involved with Ethan. Why was this so weird?

It took great effort to keep her expression neutral as the woman extended her hand. “You must be Detective Hart.”

Abby accepted the hand as Luke pulled out the chair next to her and the blogger took a seat.

“Please, it’s Abby,” she said, fighting the urge to look for flaws in the beautiful face
 
—a pimple, a stray hair, anything.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you. I’ve read every article I
could find about you, and I know that you understand what Molly faces.”

The only thing Abby could find in the woman’s visage was compassion, a true concern for a victim of a horrific crime. Swallowing, she said, “I think I do.”

Everyone settled around the table, and Fallon announced, “Julia Cavanaugh will be joining us here today. She also wants to meet Abby.”

A young server stepped up to the table, and everyone ordered lunch.

“Hi, Callie,” Faye said, turning to Luke. “This is Molly’s younger sister.” To the girl, “These people are the ones working on your sister’s case.”

Callie didn’t look all that excited about the information.

As she walked away, Faye sighed. “This crime has taken a toll on the entire family.”

“I understand that,” Abby said before addressing Luke, still mentally beating herself up over the petty emotions that almost overwhelmed her regarding a woman who appeared to be completely genuine.

“Tell me about this guy who might be your suspect, the peeper,” Abby said. She saw that Woody had brought a file in with him. “Maybe this is a good lead and not false hope.”

Luke took the file from Woody. “He’s really just a person of interest at this time, someone we want to talk to. He runs a computer shop, name is Gil Barone.”

Callie returned with their drinks. “Oh.” She’d obviously heard the last part of what Luke said. “You guys know Gil?”

Luke looked at her. “Uh, no, we’d like to meet him. Do you know him?”

Callie beamed. “Everyone knows Gil. He’s a genius with computers. And his prices are reasonable, not like the big computer stores. He’s a war hero too, got blown up in Iraq.”

“He did?” Woody asked.

Callie’s blonde head bobbed. “Yes. His tank rolled over a bomb. He’s lucky to be alive. And he’s humble about it. The whole town wanted to pitch in and get him a motorized wheelchair. When he got the money, he thanked everyone but said he didn’t mind pushing himself around, said it kept him sharp. Instead, he used the money to buy a WWII vet the chair.”

Callie was obviously impressed by that gesture, Abby thought.

“I didn’t know he was in a wheelchair,” Luke said.

“Paralyzed from the waist down. He can use his arms. Never bitter about it either. He’s an inspiration.” She moved away to another table.

“Now I know why that name was familiar,” Fallon said. “I’ve read about the guy. He’s a local hero around here.”

Abby saw Luke raise an eyebrow and cock his head to look at Woody.

“What?” she asked.

“Injuries notwithstanding, Mr. Barone did not serve in any branch of the armed services,” Luke said. “I checked.”

Woody shook his head. “Could be he embellished the tale to impress the ladies. Wouldn’t be the first time a guy did that.”

“We’ll have to wait and ask him.”

“A peeper and a liar,” Abby observed. “He’s looking more and more interesting.”

For the rest of lunch they talked about the case, and Abby found herself more intrigued than ever.

They lingered over lunch waiting for Mrs. Cavanaugh. She arrived a little after one thirty. Luke saw the sturdy-looking woman, dressed in pressed jeans and a yellow sweater, come into the restaurant. She walked directly to their table, where Faye Fallon stood and greeted her with a hug, then made all the necessary introductions.

“I’ll confess that I’ve done a little research about all of you on the Internet. Mr. Murphy and Detective Hart, I feel I know you. Mr. Woods, you’re a little more enigmatic.”

“Yes, that’s me,” Woody said with a smile. “Enigmatic.”

Luke pulled out a chair for Julia and she sat. Before they could get started, Callie reappeared.

“Hey, Mom,” she said to Julia. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Some tea.” Julia’s sad gaze followed Callie. “Poor Callie. As hard as this has been on Molly, it’s been hard on her as well.”

The profound sadness on Julia’s face gave Luke pause. Briefly doubt crossed his mind.
Are we giving this family false hope?

Julia sighed. “At first, Molly was so strong. We’re a Christian family, and the church rallied around, and it appeared as though she would come through this trauma okay, but . . .”

“She doesn’t understand why the bad guy was never caught.” Abby spoke and Luke looked at her, glad she was there. Abby understood, even better than he could, what Molly was dealing with.

Julia nodded. “For a few years she was fine, standing on her own two feet. She lived in a condo in Lancaster and was working on an ambulance; she’s an EMT and wants to be a paramedic.
But it seemed as if she lost ground every time an anniversary passed. The tenth anniversary was the worst. She started wondering if her own memory was faulty. Did the attack even happen? There were bad dreams, illusions that people in the community didn’t believe her, but worst of all, she’s begun to believe that God has failed her.”

Abby said, “I think I know what she’s feeling.”

“Do you?” Julia asked. “Do you really? The reason I wanted to meet you here is to really make you understand that I don’t want you to get my daughter’s hopes up. She’s been through so much. I won’t let you talk to her if I think you’ll make things worse.”

“Julia, I know from firsthand experience that Molly has to be okay, really okay, with either eventuality, the guy being caught or not. And she has to know here
 
—” Abby placed her hand over her heart
 
—“that whatever happens, God is in it. He is sovereign over either eventuality.”

Luke agreed and held her gaze. “And, Mrs. Cavanaugh, I can’t guarantee you anything except this: We’re here because we believe that your daughter’s case is solvable. We will do everything in our power to catch the perpetrator. But ultimately we know, as I’m sure you do, that he will never escape God’s justice.”