AFTER MEETING WITH FALLON, Luke and Woody returned to their hotel room and set up a mini investigation board. Luke ignored the raised eyebrows Woody tossed his way at the mention of Faye’s invitation.

“Gil Barone is all we have to explore right now,” Luke said.

“I agree,” Woody said. “I’ve been racking my brains looking for another angle but . . .”

The buzz of Luke’s phone stopped his response. It was Faye.

“Good news,” she said. “Molly wants to talk to Abby.”

“You sound surprised,” Luke said.

“I guess I am. But Abby’s background touched Molly. The only thing is, Molly’s mom wants to meet her first.”

“I’m sure that will be fine. We’ll call Abby, and my bet is that she’ll head up here first thing tomorrow. Why don’t we plan on meeting again for lunch at the same place?”

Faye agreed, and when Luke disconnected, he asked Woody to call Abby.

Woody got her voice mail and left a message.

While they waited for her call, they returned to Barone and discussed how to handle his interview.

“I’d like to get a feel for the guy,” Luke said. “I realize this is a long shot . . .”

“But right now it’s our only shot. If he doesn’t pan out, we’re back where they were when the tips began to dry up.”

“If he comes up hinky, how do you want to handle it?”

“I thought about trying to put together something of a six-pack, or just asking Molly to take a good look, but . . .”

“We’re not sure how strong Molly is, what her frame of mind is like.”

“Right, so maybe the best thing to do would be to try to get an opportunity DNA sample and have it tested and wait and see.”

“That’s an idea.” Luke wrote that on the board with a question mark. He knew the term. An opportunity sample was obtained by recovering something the suspect touched, drank from, or smoked. He’d read about officers getting viable samples by swabbing the door handles of the suspect’s vehicle, or from discarded cigarette butts or coffee cups. If Barone did prove to be suspicious, Luke doubted he’d voluntarily give a sample.

Woody’s phone rang. From the conversation, Luke recognized it was Abby returning his call. She was excited about being able to help and would be up the next day around lunchtime to meet them. Woody looked at Luke as he relayed the news.

Luke hiked a shoulder. They were planning on a side trip to Bakersfield regarding Lucy Harper tomorrow. “We’ll be back in time, I’m sure.”

Woody told Abby about the deli and made the meeting firm before ending the call. Luke shot off a text to Faye that they were set for the next day.

They worked for a little while longer before calling it a day. The plan was to stop at the computer shop on the way to Bakersfield. Whatever happened with Barone, they would still continue the search for Lucy Harper. Again Luke found himself bothered that they had not mentioned the possible Triple Seven lead to Abby.

He calmed his anxiety by telling himself they really wouldn’t know anything until they found Lucy, if she was even the right person, so his worry was useless.

The computer store was one of three businesses in a corner center. There was a Starbucks on one end, an Italian restaurant in the middle, and then the Tehachapi Computer Depot, and it was on the way out of town. As Luke turned into the lot and parked, Woody’s phone rang.

“You go ahead,” he said to Luke. “I need to answer this. Be right behind you.”

Luke nodded and headed into the Depot. The store was well stocked with all types of electronics, reminding Luke of a RadioShack. There was a glass case that spanned the back wall where the cash register was, and a man Luke assumed was an employee standing behind it. Because there was no way the skinny guy with a pockmarked face was Gil Barone. He was helping someone with a laptop, and he reminded Luke of one of the nerds from Revenge of the Nerds.

Not wanting to interrupt, Luke browsed, slowly moving closer to the counter. The shop was neat, orderly. Barone took care of Apple computers and PCs. He sold home security systems and electronics of all kinds, even drones. It was a fascinating shop, and Luke almost wished he were here to make a purchase. He did need a new security system, and it’d be cool to be able to take home a drone and play with it.

The customer finished, thanked the salesman, calling him Bart, and then left the store. Luke approached the counter.

“Can I help you?” Bart asked.

For a second, Luke thought he saw recognition cross the man’s face and he wondered why but let it pass. “I’m looking for Gil Barone.”

“He hasn’t come to work yet. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I need to speak with him. Will he be in later?”

“He should be.”

Luke pulled out one of his cards. “Here’s my card. I’ll try to stop by later. He can call me if he wants.”

“What is this about?” Bart frowned as he looked at the card.

“I’m investigating an old crime. Mr. Barone might have been a witness.” Luke fibbed because he doubted saying that Barone was a suspect would get him anywhere. “I’d just like to speak to him.” He heard the door open, and Woody walked in.

Luke turned away from Bart. “He’s not in. We’ll try to catch up with him another time.”

Woody nodded.

Luke thanked Bart, wondering to himself what the bewildered, stressed expression on his face meant. An innocent person would likely be curious about what an investigator wanted, but a guilty person would likely be stressed. Did this employee know something about Barone that caused his stress?

Or am I just reading too much into the situation? Am I too anxious to find a suspect? Luke cautioned himself to dial it back a bit. Barone was innocent until proven guilty.

Once back in the car, Luke entered the address for Lucy Harper into his Garmin.

“You want to call first?” Woody asked.

Luke shook his head. “I’ve found that it’s often better to just show up. Calling gives people warning; sometimes that means warning to disappear. I’m 95 percent certain this is our Lucy Harper. Let’s just hope we catch her home.”

As they pulled out of the lot, Luke noticed a van in the handicapped parking spot. A wheelchair ramp was being lowered, but traffic cleared, and he pulled out of the lot without seeing who got out of the van.