SHORTLY AFTER JULIA ARRIVED, Faye, Luke, and Woody excused themselves so she and Abby could talk. Luke and Woody wanted to try to connect with Barone again. As much as Abby wanted to be in on that interview, she knew the sooner she met with Molly, the better.

Watching Luke and Faye leave threatened to throw Abby off her game, force her to lose her focus, so she worked doubly hard to concentrate on Julia.

“Molly has good days and bad days,” Julia explained. “She’s healing from the accident she had and is just starting to feel better, to walk around. We’re hoping this doesn’t end her career. When she has a good day, she’s like her old self. But when she has a bad day . . .” Julia shook her head. “It’s like she crawls into a dark place and won’t come out.”

“I can relate.” Abby thought about her own few days trying to hide under the covers at her aunt’s. “She lived through a traumatic event, so it’s understandable. Even though she survived, the trauma can resurface and create problems.”

“Yes, that’s what happened. She was having flashbacks, but lately that’s been better. She’s perked up in some ways and her therapist is very optimistic that she’s responding well to treatment. In my opinion the biggest issue right now is her faith. It’s fractured. It’s almost as if after waiting ten years with no resolution, she’s decided that God has failed her. She’s stopped going to church. She’s actually more open to talking about the old case than about her faith crisis.”

“I’ve been there as well.” Abby shared with Julia her own faith journey. “My aunt helped me immensely by pointing out that I was hiding. When I came out of hiding, I realized that my foundation had slipped. I had to get back to the basics. Maybe that’s where Molly is now.”

Julia put a hand on Abby’s. “I think you do understand. The hard thing will be getting Molly to listen.”

“I wish I could hang around in case you need my help, but I have quite a few commitments in Palmdale that I need to take care of,” Faye told Luke as they stepped outside the deli.

“It’d be nice to have your help,” Luke said, losing himself in her deep-blue eyes. “But we understand, and we have it covered.” He extended his hand.

She took it in both of hers. “Call me as soon as you have any information, if you are able.”

“Will do.”

He realized she let him hold her hand probably longer than he should have when he heard Woody clearing his throat.

Letting go, Luke stepped back so Woody could say his good-bye to Faye. They watched her get into her car and drive away before heading for their rental.

“Uh-huh,” Woody said as he unlocked the car doors.

“What?”

“Pretty woman. She sure does like you.” He arched an eyebrow Luke’s way.

Luke gave a dismissive wave and climbed into the car, pulling at his collar as the heat rose in his face.

As they returned to the computer store, Luke couldn’t help but think about the last ten years of scrupulously avoiding any kind of entanglements with women as he worked hard on being Maddie’s dad and getting his business going. To suddenly be so attracted to two women staggered him a bit. He prayed for focus as he drove.

“Looks like he’s here,” Luke said as they pulled into the parking lot. The same van was in the handicapped spot in front of the store. Since he now knew that Barone was in a wheelchair, he figured this was his transport.

“Let’s go check him out.”

When they entered the store, the same guy they’d spoken to earlier saw them immediately.

“Gil, they’re back,” he called out.

As they reached the counter, a man in a wheelchair, presumably Barone, rolled out of the back room toward them. Luke studied the bearded face. The eyes could be the eyes from Molly’s composite. The bone structure, what he could see of it, looked right. But how long had this guy been wheelchair bound? His arms and shoulders were ripped, powerful, not something Molly ever mentioned about her attacker. Luke could see that this guy spent a lot of time with weights. Was that to compensate for the loss of his legs?

“The private eyes,” Barone said, a sneer in his voice. “What is it you want?”

His antagonistic attitude immediately made Luke’s dirtbag detector buzz. He introduced himself and Woody.

“We just had a couple questions about an old crime, a rape that happened in Lancaster a while ago.”

“How long ago?” The way Barone asked the question, the tone of his voice, gave Luke the feeling that the guy was toying with them.

“Ten years. May of 2005 to be precise.”

“I was in Iraq then.” He held his hands out. “Came back with this wonderful chair.”

“Did you serve?”

Barone shook his head. “I was a truck driver for ACME. They were civilian trucking contractors. They had me moving supplies, ran over an IED. So there —I can’t have any information about what happened in the AV if I wasn’t here, can I?”

He was mocking them. Luke felt his temper simmer. But there was nowhere to go. He cast a glance at Woody, who had his cop face on, unreadable. They had no leverage, no choice but to leave and check out his story.

“Can I get back to work now?”

Woody put a hand on his shoulder, kept Luke from saying something he shouldn’t.

“Thanks for your time, Mr. Barone,” Woody said. He turned to leave, tapping Luke’s arm, but Luke was locked into a stare with Barone. There was no way to dial back the vibe he was getting. He knew the man was lying, knew the man was evil.

He finally broke away to leave with Woody. As soon as they were out of the store, he said, “That guy is dirty.”

“I agree,” Woody said, “but we have to prove it.”

“What a couple of dorks,” Bart giggled. “Guess you showed them.”

“Top of the food chain,” Gil said. He wheeled himself into the back room, leaving Bart to help some customers who just entered. As soon as he was out of Bart’s view, his grin faded.

Despite all of his bravado for Bart’s benefit, Gil feared now that his luck had run out. He’d lied about the date he was in Iraq, and the two detectives would figure that out eventually. They’d be back. He’d considered trying to Haskellize them, but the younger one —there was something about his eyes. When he looked into them, Gil knew at a gut level that there would be no snowing that guy.

He’d researched the crime. They had his DNA because his victim had lived to be examined. They would put two and two together soon enough. And while he could hack into a lot of things, because of the way DNA samples were entered, hacking CODIS was out of his realm of expertise, even if he had the time.

He grabbed his grip strengthener and tried to think. If he was going to go down, he would go in a big way. No way was he going to prison, not in a wheelchair. No way.