Burning Proof Page 9

  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.”

  CHAPTER

  -19-

  “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.

  CHAPTER

  -20-

  BEFORE HIS MEETING with Faye Fallon, Luke fielded an interesting call from the Riverside County Sheriff’s office. He picked Woody up for the drive to the coffee shop, and his friend noticed the grin right off.

  “Don’t you look like the cat who ate the canary.”

  “Remember our old friend Oscar Cardoza?”

  “I do. Been watching the news for any indication they found bodies in his backyard.”

  “Well, I don’t know why it hasn’t been on the news, but they did. They found three bodies buried on his property, and he was living off the Social Security of all three dead people.”

  Woody arched his eyebrows. “You don’t say. I imagine defrauding Social Security will probably get him more time than the dead guys.”

  Luke laughed. “Ah, my cynical friend. We collared a serial killer. I think we might be headed to Riverside to testify when the case finally gets to trial.”

  “Humph.”

  Laughing at Woody’s stoic disinterest, Luke said, “Anyway, they thanked us profusely for our work out there.”

  “They should thank us. We do good work.”

  They arrived at the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf early. Faye Fallon was meeting her cousin at a restaurant in the Marketplace, close to the coffee shop, so it was the logical spot to meet. The mercurial October weather had turned cold, and they hoped for an inside table. They were in luck. Woody took a seat while Luke stepped up to the counter to order.

  He’d just sat down with two coffees when the door opened and she walked in. Luke recognized her because she had a picture posted to her blog. But the picture did her no justice. Faye Fallon was drop-dead gorgeous. Woody let out a low whistle Luke hoped Faye didn’t hear, and heads in the shop turned.

  She looked like an actress. Long blonde hair held back in a shiny barrette, perfectly set, she was wearing a pretty dress that accentuated her trim figure. When she headed their way, Luke felt his mouth go dry.

  “You must be Luke Murphy,” she said with a bright smile, stepping toward the table.

  Luke stood, nearly spilling his coffee. Woody also stood.

  “Mrs. Fallon.” Luke held his hand out.

  “Please, it’s Faye.” She gripped his hand, then looked at Woody. “You must be the partner.”

  For his part, Woody looked much less affected by Fallon than Luke felt.

  “That’s me, the sidekick. Nice to meet you, Faye.” Woody shook her hand. “Can I get you something?”

  “A small black coffee would be great.”

  Woody moved off to purchase the coffee, and Luke and Fallon sat.

  “It’s good to be out of the car,” Fallon said.

  “That’s right. You had what, a two-hour drive?” He fidgeted, wondering why a beautiful woman could make him feel like a gangly high school kid again.

  “Yes. But I’ll be staying over with my cousin, so I don’t have to go back tonight.”

  Soon Woody was back with the coffee, and the three began discussing the case.

  “We’re in,” Luke said. “The summary hooked us. We want to help solve this case.”

  “Thank you so much.” Her smile lit up the whole shop, and for a second all Luke could do was nod and sip his coffee. Briefly he thought of Abby. She was promised to another man; there was nothing to keep Luke from finding out more about this beautiful, dedicated woman sitting across from him.

  Woody jumped in. “How did you get involved in doing a, a . . . What do you call it? A crime blog?”

  “I’ve always been interested in writing and crime. My husband was planning on joining the sheriff’s department when his enlistment was up.” Sadness marred her features.

  Luke found his voice. “So sorry for your loss. That had to be tough.”

  “It was—it is—but doing the blog, feeling like I’m helping others who are victimized, helps.”

  “I’m not that computer savvy,” Woody said. “How does the blog help?”

  “I hope it makes people aware of what’s going on in the community. And I’ve become a kind of liaison with local law enforcement. I blog about crime in the Antelope Valley, trends, and good work done by the SD. I record tips from people who don’t want to talk to the deputies, and from time to time I highlight cold cases. That’s how I met Molly.”

  “You met Molly?”

  “Yes. Actually I first met her five years ago. I’ve lived in Lake Los Angeles my whole life. I remember when she was kidnapped. So her case was one of the first ones I profiled. I didn’t have much reach then, at least not what I have now, so nothing ever came from it. But seeing the way she’s lost ground in five years, my prayer is that you guys will be able to find the creep who did that to her.”

  “How has she lost ground?”

  “Well, she was strong five years ago, active in her church, living on her own in Lancaster. She wanted to be an EMT and was in school. Eventually she graduated and went to work for an ambulance company. But as time has passed, she’s been having some problems. PTSD they think.”

  Luke nodded. “I know the syndrome. I’ve served with people who are suffering.”

  “Yes, I met some of the guys from my husband’s unit who suffered with dreams, flashbacks, sometimes so debilitating they have difficulty functioning.” Her eyes held his for a moment, and Luke felt a connection click into place.

  “I can see that you understand,” she continued. “As for Molly, the trauma seemed to drop right back in her lap like a lead ball with the ten-year anniversary. She began to cut herself, trying to re-create the marks on her wrists from the bonds. Then there are the flashbacks, and she wonders, because the guy was never caught, did she imagine the whole thing? At one point a couple days ago she stepped into traffic and was hit by a car. Her leg and wrist were broken. She’s had to take a leave from her job and move back in with her parents in Tehachapi.”

  “That sounds bad,” Woody said. “Are you thinking that solving the case will change things for her?”

  “I don’t know. That’s my prayer. And I believe that seeing her attacker caught and punished should help.”

  “I agree. I bet it will,” Luke said, thoughts now bouncing back to Abby and the Triple Seven. “I’d like to meet her.”

  “That’s touchy. I haven’t completely convinced her mother that we aren’t giving her false hope. I’d like you to review the files, develop something, before I bring you to meet Molly. Is that okay?”

  “Of course. The last thing we want to do is traumatize her further.”

  Luke found himself fervently hoping they could find somethin
g new. He knew firsthand what false hope could do to people. He also found himself wanting to spend more time with Faye Fallon, and that kind of surprised him.

  CHAPTER

  -21-

  DURING THE LONG DRIVE NORTH Abby tried to think about anything but police work and the shooting. Ethan had texted once, but he was busy and she didn’t expect texting at rest stops would be any kind of diversion.

  Praying was still elusive. She tried but felt as though a barrier popped up every time she started a prayer. There was heaviness on her soul, an oppression she didn’t know how to crawl out from under. She turned the radio up, stopped often to get out and walk Bandit. It was on one of these stops that she noticed the car. A nondescript rental agency type car—and she was certain the driver was watching her.

  Fear perked her up in an instant. Would a protester be after her? She looked away and acted nonchalant, idly following Bandit as he sniffed the pet area bushes. The hair stood up on the back of her neck, and she wished she had her gun with her, but she’d left it in the car. The feeling quickly passed and she chastised herself for being paranoid.

  Bandit did what he was supposed to, and she scooped it up and put it in the trash, glancing toward the dark sedan. The car was still parked, but the driver was nowhere to be seen. Sighing and shaking her head, she got back in her car with Bandit and left the rest area. A short time later she saw the sedan coming up behind her fast. Her heart rate skyrocketed and she moved over, only to watch him fly by, traveling at least fifteen miles per hour faster than she was.

  “My goodness.” She patted Bandit and took a deep breath to calm down. The sedan disappeared from view and she felt incredibly foolish to be so jumpy.

  The rest of the drive passed without incident. Abby stopped for a stretch and a snack as it got dark, picking a fast-food restaurant in Redding, about three hours from home. She went through the drive-through and then parked and ate some fries in the car just because she didn’t want to leave Bandit. Her gaze roamed the darkening parking lot, and she stopped herself when she realized she was looking for bogeymen.