“I DON’T KNOW how to help you with this thing —this investigation into your parents’ deaths.” Uncle Simon frowned and played with the plastic water bottle in his hands.

The visit had been going better than Abby ever imagined. Simon was a thoughtful, witty man. He’d earned two college degrees while in prison and could talk about any subject. She thought briefly about how he’d ended up here. While serving a short sentence for a manslaughter charge, he’d murdered a man during a prison riot. And even though she knew what he’d done to merit his life sentence, it pained her that he would never leave the walls of this prison. They’d talked about a lot of different topics during her visit, and as it was nearing a close, they’d circled around to the deaths of her parents, the Triple Seven fire, and Kelsey Cox’s confession.

“I didn’t think you’d know anything, but were you acquainted with Lowell Rollins and Alyssa before politics entered into it? I was just hoping for some insight there. My friend Luke and I want to keep the investigation open in case something turns up to implicate Alyssa.”

“I knew them, sure. Your dad and I were very tight with Lowell before Alyssa waltzed in. She was a piece of work.” He drummed the metal table with his fingers, a wistful expression on his face. “For her it was always politics and appearances, climbing the ladder to success. She did what I remember my mom calling ‘putting on airs,’ acting like she was better than everyone else. The group Buck and I used to hang with, we all thought she was only interested in Lowell because of his money. He inherited a lot, you know.”

“Yes, I knew that.”

“He even paid for my lawyer.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Simon gave a thoughtful nod. “Yeah, he was never uppity about the cash, never lorded it over us. He was generous, fun, one of us, and a good guy.”

Abby had heard all that from Woody. “What about the hit-and-run he and my father were involved in?”

He frowned. “Hit-and-run?”

“You didn’t know?”

Simon cocked his head. “Yeah, of course I knew about it. But what do you know about it?”

Abby felt a zing, like an electrical current coursing through her. She’d never thought to look to Simon for clarification on this particular story, but it was possible he could be a wealth of information.

“Supposedly, when they were in high school, Lowell and my father stole a car one night and went joyriding. They hit some man walking his dog and killed him and never said anything.”

Brows furrowed, Simon shook his head slowly from side to side. “That’s not what happened. I was only a year ahead of those knuckleheads, and in high school your dad and I were tight.” He held up his fingers and crossed them. “There was a stolen car and a hit-and-run, but nobody died.”

“Then what happened?”

“It was a dare. We were sitting around one weekend —I was sixteen, I think, and your dad and Lowell would have been fifteen.” He paused as if trying to remember, tapping his chin with two fingers. “Buck was a little troublemaker at times. He’d gotten suspended for something —I don’t remember what —and he was picking on Lowell, calling him a Goody Two-shoes.”

“I thought you said they got along.”

“Oh, they did. Lowell was like our third brother, and we liked his brother, Louis, too. But that didn’t mean we didn’t pick on one another. Lowell hated being ragged on. Anyway, Buck dared him to steal a car.” Simon grinned. “I chimed in because I thought he’d chicken out. Even Louis said a thing or two. And wouldn’t you know it, Lowell does it. He used a screwdriver to start an old Datsun. Made it about a block before he hit a parked car, bailed out, and ran. We laughed until we cried.”

It was Abby’s turn to frown. “The story George Sanders told me was that they both took the car and killed a guy, then hid the fact. Then my mom found out about it and tried to hold it over Alyssa’s head to be able to buy them out of the restaurant. That secret is supposedly what got her killed.”

“Sanders . . . Georgie Sanders, the guy who bought the junkyard?”

“Yes.”

Simon laughed, and it was a deep, masculine laugh that made Abby grin.

“That’s rich. Sanders was always a blowhard, and he was always trying to gain an advantage over people. He didn’t know what he was talking about. Either that, or he knew what Alyssa wanted him to know.”

“Alyssa?” Abby was confused. “Why would she peddle such a story to him?”

“Misdirection maybe. She might have made up a story to gain Georgie’s confidence for something. Or maybe it was her way of casting a shadow on Buck. Why?” He held his hands out, palms up. “That woman was always conniving, planning and twisting things. It’s entirely possible Alyssa is the one hiding a deep, dark secret. Probably told that story to Georgie back then for some reason that makes no sense now.”

Simon grew serious. “I know that you know your job, but you should look into her background. She came from somewhere on the central coast, Temple something, and as I recall, she was cagey about her background. Her maiden name was Arndt, I think. I remember Buck teasing her about originating from Hicksville and calling her Alyssa the airhead. She didn’t like it, being teased; had no sense of humor. And she never liked questions about her past, where she came from, or her family.”

“It’s entirely possible Alyssa is the one hiding a deep, dark secret.” Those words stung Abby, sent her mind churning, and she grabbed on to the idea as if it were a lifeline. What if it were Alyssa whose dark past included a serious crime? The story of the hit-and-run death was supposedly the secret her mother had used to pressure Alyssa. But the only people who knew exactly what her mother said to Alyssa that day in the Triple Seven were dead, except for Alyssa.

She thought about Simon’s suggestion for a moment, trying to remember what she’d read in the file about Alyssa. There wasn’t much. Excitement smoldered inside. Was this an avenue that could bring her and Luke to the final act of the Triple Seven investigation?

“That is an idea —”

A jailer indicated time was up, visiting was over. Abby and Simon stood.

“I can’t believe how fast our time went,” she said.

“This was great,” Simon said as he took both of Abby’s hands in his. “I hope that you will come back.”

“I will; I will.” She leaned forward to give Simon a hug, surprised at the tears that threatened. Simon was as close to her father as she would ever get on this side of heaven.