KELSEY COX YAWNED and wondered if she’d ever have a moment of peace and quiet in her life again. Or even a simple good night’s rest. There was no such thing as quiet in the jail. Not in the Long Beach city jail, and certainly not in the LA County jail. It was never totally quiet, even at night. She heard noises at night that she’d never be able to identify. Even being safely tucked away in isolation —a luxury after being rushed and punched several times by a gang member who was certain Kelsey had arrested her baby daddy —she never experienced complete silence.

What would state prison be like?

She’d been waiting for days for the tap, the guard coming to tell her that she’d be on her way out of Long Beach to the place that would be her home for the next fifteen years. Finally, this morning it had come. Kelsey was ready, and resigned, for the next chapter in her life.

Shackled and sitting on the bus, no one next to her, waiting for the transport to pull away from the Long Beach jail, Kelsey considered that next chapter. Her lawyer had intimated that Governor Rollins would be in a position to grant her a pardon, that Kelsey had been a loyal employee and deserved consideration.

Kelsey realized she didn’t care. She hadn’t implicated the governor or his wife in anything not because they weren’t guilty but because at the time she’d accepted the plea, she feared them. Their reach was long, and unlike her lover Gavin, who’d taken his own life to avoid prison, Kelsey was not ready to die.

But sitting in jail and enduring an irksome delay had changed Kelsey’s perspective. She should have been gone days ago. The LB city jail was simply a holding pen for unsentenced prisoners. Kelsey had been sentenced. She knew that Alyssa Rollins had to be behind the delay; she was the only one with enough juice to force the governor’s hand. The question was, why? The idle time had given Kelsey occasion to think; it made her consider that she was simply a pawn in a game being orchestrated by Alyssa. What Alyssa didn’t know was that Kelsey, in part, had accepted the plea deal because she didn’t want to play Alyssa’s games anymore.

The bus, which had been idling, was shifted into gear. Kelsey looked out the window as the vehicle pulled away from the city jail and headed toward the 710 freeway.

So Alyssa couldn’t delay her any longer.

Is she finished with me? Kelsey wondered.

Gunther had scheduled the visit with the old teacher first because the assisted-living facility where she lived was in San Luis Obispo, not far from the train station. They found the place easily, situated on a beautiful, shady, tree-lined street. It looked more like a residence than a facility.

“This is nice,” Gunther commented. “Maybe I should retire here.”

“You’re not ready for assisted living already, are you?”

Gunther shrugged. “Having someone else take care of my every need? I could handle that.”

They asked for Esther Dorne and were directed to the backyard. There they found a white-haired woman under a tree in a lounge chair reading a suspense novel by DiAnn Mills, one of Abby’s favorites.

“Mrs. Dorne?” Abby stepped forward.

The woman looked up, eyes bright and alert. She closed the book on her lap and smiled. “Mr. Gunther and Detective Hart, I presume,” she said but stared at Abby.

“That’s us.” Gunther pulled a couple of plastic chairs over, and they sat on either side of the lounge. “You’re looking well, Esther. May we call you Esther?”

The woman nodded, but before Gunther could continue, her eyes bored into Abby.

“We’ve met before.” She raised a twisted finger toward Abby. “I’m sure of it.”

“Uh,” Abby stammered, “I don’t think so. I’ve never met you.”

“I’m sure of it,” she repeated. “I may be old, but I never forget a face.”

Abby held her hands up. “I can’t help you. I really have never seen you before.”

Esther shook her head in bewilderment. “It will come to me. I know it will.”

Abby and Gunther exchanged glances. Abby shrugged.

“Are you ready for some questions?” Gunther asked.

Still studying Abby, she said, “You bet I am. Retirement has been so boring.” She rubbed her hands together and turned to Gunther. “I’m ready to stir up some trouble.”

Abby tried to forget the weird perusal and fought to keep from smiling at the woman’s spunk. “What makes you think we want to stir up trouble?”

Esther raised one eyebrow. “Alyssa is in politics now. I imagine all the good stuff has been written. You must want the bad stuff.”

“We just want background, true background. Is that bad stuff?”

“Some is. Alyssa was not a happy child.”

“You remember her clearly?”

“I do. I remember most of my students, but Alyssa became famous in this state. I remember Alyssa mostly because the tragedy that touched her life made me notice her more than others and try to help her more.”

“Are you referring to her father’s suicide?”

“I am. Do you know it was Alyssa who found his body? He hung himself in his study. She went looking for him and found . . .” She grimaced. “No child should see that kind of thing.”

“I agree,” Abby said.

A strange look came over Esther, and Abby leaned closer as fear spiked. Was the spry old woman having a stroke?

“Are you okay, Esther?”

Esther waved her away. “Yes, yes, I just had the strangest sense of déjà vu —you know, that you and I had this conversation before.”

After a deep sigh, Esther continued. “Let’s see, where was I? Alyssa’s father’s suicide. It changed everything for the poor girl. From what I understand, she was living in a mansion in San Francisco, the Nob Hill area, attending an expensive private school one week, and the next sharing a room in a relative’s house in a small farming town in the middle of the state. It was quite a fall.”

“You taught her in high school, correct?” Gunther asked.

“Correct. I taught English literature. She was a poor student. I could tell she didn’t like to read. Generally, though, she showed up every day.”

“Do you know what she was like outside of class? Did she have a lot of friends? Was she involved in any extracurricular activities?”

“She did not have many friends, no. As for other activities . . . well, she was shy, withdrawn, sad. I never saw her fit into any particular group. Every school has them, you know: cliques, circles. Alyssa didn’t have one. And some girls were mean to her; there was quite a bit of bullying that went on. We tried to keep an eye out, stop it, but you know how kids can be mean, really mean.”

“Didn’t she have a boyfriend?”

“Oh yes, but not until her senior year. When she met Mike, the bullying stopped. I’m sure he stopped it. He was really her only friend. They were very close. I think that the romantic in me wanted them to get married and be together forever.” For a second she seemed miles away. She snapped herself back to the present. “But something happened that changed everything.”

“What?” Gunther and Abby asked at the same time.

“I don’t know, but it made Alyssa leave school without graduating, and it broke Mike’s heart. You really need to talk with him. Mike can tell you a lot more about Alyssa than anyone can.”