THE DRIVE TO BAKERSFIELD was about forty minutes, and it took another fifteen to find the address for Lucy Harper. The neighborhood was working class, but neat. The houses were small and close together, and the business district they passed through before they turned on Lucy’s street sported Spanish language signs and storefronts. Luke knew there was a lot of farming in and around Bakersfield and a large population of migrant workers.

The address they parked in front of was a clean, bright single-story house painted a cheery yellow.

“Let’s just go knock,” Luke said in response to Woody’s questioning gaze. The two men got out of the car and walked up a short path to the front door.

The woman who answered their knock was definitely not Lucy Harper. She was at most in her twenties, too young.

Luke introduced himself.

The woman frowned. “You the police?”

“No, I’m a private investigator. I’m looking for Lucy Harper.”

“Why?”

“I just want to ask her questions about an old crime.”

“She didn’t do nothing.” Fear spread across the young woman’s face, and she started to close the door.

“I’m not accusing her of anything. She was a witness.”

The girl shook her head. “My mom isn’t here. You should go.”

“Wait, please.” Luke held his hand up, as it was clear the girl was going to shut the door. “Just give your mom my card. I only want to ask her a few questions. Please.”

The door was now only open a crack, but at least it was still open. Luke quickly pulled a card from his wallet. “Here, give this to your mother. Ask her to please call me anytime.” He held the card out and for a moment feared that the girl would not take it. But eventually she did take the card and then slammed the door all the way closed. Luke could hear the dead bolt being set.

“That went well,” Woody said.

“Win some, you lose some,” Luke said with a shrug as the pair got back in the car and returned to Tehachapi. “She was definitely afraid of something.”

“Agreed.”

When they were on the road again, Woody said, “I’m wondering if maybe we’re going at this case wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re dealing with skittish women all the way around. Maybe a couple of ugly mugs like us aren’t going to get what we need from them.”

Luke frowned. “You suggesting we ask Abby to help us with this as well as with Molly?”

“Maybe. We’d have to let Abby in on this eventually.”

Luke said nothing, hoping his face didn’t betray just how he felt about the thought of Abby helping them with everything they were working on. He’d love it. This would solve the problem of keeping things like Lucy Harper from her. But he wasn’t entirely sure she’d be happy that they hadn’t told her about the woman. Would she want to help if she thought they were keeping secrets?

“Do you want to hit that Barone guy again?” Woody asked when Luke neared the off-ramp for Tehachapi.

“We don’t really have time. Abby should be here shortly. Let’s head to the deli. Why don’t you try your friend again, the one looking into the reason Barone got kicked out of school?”

“Good idea. I’m sure he got my message. I’ll double-check.”

“We could be barking up the wrong tree, digging into someone who is perfectly innocent.”

“Well —” Woody shrugged —“from what Brenda Harris said, this guy is anything but completely innocent. At the very least, he’s worth talking to.” He activated his phone and punched in a number.

Luke reached the deli and saw Abby was already here. It was good to see her. It seemed to make everything about the day, all the misses, easier to swallow somehow. It didn’t hurt that he saw her smile at him, even before she saw Woody. He wondered how Abby and Ethan were doing. Woody had told him that the week she spent in Oregon involved working with Ethan on one of his projects.

Sighing, Luke knew the attraction to Abby was going nowhere, and since it was Ethan she was with, he should rejoice. Ethan was a solid guy. A guy who would be good to Abby, a guy she deserved.