ABBY SNUGGLED ON THE COUCH with her little black-and-white dog, Bandit, munching on Oreo cookies and drinking milk. The conversation she’d had with her uncle about Alyssa Rollins replayed in her mind. She wanted to talk to Luke about it, but knowing that he was dating Faye made Abby reticent to phone him.

She and Luke had made an informal agreement a couple of months ago to work on Alyssa’s background, looking for anything incriminating. And this information did concern the Triple Seven, so the conversation she’d had with Simon eventually won out. She’d call, but in the morning.

The drive out to Tehachapi, the visit, and the drive back had literally taken the whole day, and Abby was exhausted. The cookies and milk helped her wind down. After finishing the last Oreo and draining her glass of milk, she picked up the dog and headed into the kitchen to drop off the glass. Abby carried him the rest of the way to the bedroom, rehearsing what she’d tell Luke.

“This could be the jackpot road. We may find something at the end of it in Alyssa’s past to finally put the woman away.”

Abby smiled as she imagined him agreeing. Talking to Luke always brightened her day.

The bright imagination faded when she remembered she had to tone it down. He belonged to someone else.

First thing in the morning, Abby phoned Luke’s home only to be told by his mother, Grace, that he was out for the day.

Grace said she’d give Luke the message but suggested, “Try his cell if it’s important.”

Abby thanked her, but she did not dial Luke’s cell number for the same reason her heart sank upon learning that Luke was not at home on a Saturday morning; she was certain he was out with Faye. She hung up with some of her enthusiasm blunted.

She called Woody. Next to Luke, he was the best sounding board on anything related to the Triple Seven.

“Alyssa back then?” Abby could see in her mind’s eye his forehead scrunching as he thought about it. “It’s funny that you ask me about Alyssa’s past. Faye called a couple of days ago and asked me about the investigators up in Tehachapi, ’bout that thread that connects to the governor, to their investigation, the dead employee Quinn.”

“What?” This information rocked Abby back on her heels.

“Yes, I guess she’s helping Luke with that. Gonna see if they can find out what Quinn was doing there since they know that he was not looking into hacking. They think Cox was there with Quinn as well. I was able to tell her a few things, give her a couple of names.”

Abby’s head pounded at the idea of Luke asking Faye to help with the Triple Seven case.

“I wish Asa were still alive,” Woody said wistfully. “He’d be a big help concerning both Alyssa and Cox. But I’ll ask around.” Asa had been Woody’s partner before he was Abby’s, and he had been tight with her parents and the crowd that hung out at the Triple Seven.

“Thanks, Woody.”

“Sure. I’m taking Zena to obedience this morning. I’ll talk to you later.”

Abby hung up and sat at her computer, smiling in spite of Faye. Zena was the rescue dog Woody had adopted a couple of weeks ago. He’d lost both of his old dogs three weeks apart. Abby and Bandit had met Zena and she was a cutie, all wiggling butt and floppy ears. The rescued Lab mix was the light of Woody’s life right now, really helping him to heal. She even made him look younger.

But as Abby fired up her laptop, the whole concept of Luke and Faye working on the Triple Seven together still stung. Should it sting? she wondered.

Of course Luke and I are forever connected by the murder, but that doesn’t mean no one else can help us. I just want the right people to face justice, finally.

It was a monumental task, but eventually she was able to turn her attention back to Alyssa Rollins. She began to do a little searching into the First Lady’s background. Abby used only public sites. To tap into a law enforcement site, she’d have to justify her search, record the reason she had a “need to know.” There was no legal reason strong enough right now, no probable cause that would stand up in court for her to put a law enforcement stamp on this quest for information.

She didn’t find a lot other than what had been put out officially by the governor’s political machine, and Lowell had been in politics for thirty years. His first political win had been for Long Beach city councilman, a few months after her parents’ deaths. From there he’d climbed the ladder: mayor of Long Beach, state representative, state attorney general, and finally governor.

As Simon thought, Alyssa’s maiden name was Arndt. She hailed from the town of Templeton, California, a place Abby had never heard of. When she looked it up on Google Earth, she saw that it was between Atascadero and Paso Robles in the central part of the state.

Abby spent several hours clicking here and there. She could not find Alyssa’s yearbook picture, but she found an archived article about her that featured a picture captioned “Senior picture from high school.” The article was a puff piece about the duties and responsibilities of the governor’s First Lady. Alyssa had been a dignified and admired First Lady, low profile. Abby had been living in California when Lowell was elected to his first term as governor. She remembered many glowing articles about Alyssa and her work on behalf of Special Olympics and ending poverty in California.

Abby studied the senior picture. Alyssa did not look happy. She had a hard look, a grim set to her mouth. In researching Lowell Rollins, she’d read that he and Alyssa met in college. Alyssa never received a degree; instead she became Lowell’s publicist and eventually his wife, dropping out to work on his campaign.

Abby looked at her notes and knew what she’d do at this point in a police investigation. She would be talking to people —classmates, people Alyssa grew up with —trying to find out what they remembered about Alyssa Arndt. Templeton wasn’t that far from Long Beach —maybe four hours, five tops. She got up to stretch, wishing Luke would call back. Busying herself with making a pot of strong coffee —the stronger the better to help her think —Abby picked up the newspaper to pass the time while it brewed.

An article on the front page caught her attention. She’d been avoiding coverage of the senate race because she didn’t want to think of Lowell Rollins as a senator. But this article made her smile. The Golden State governor was in trouble. His challenger had overcome a ten-point deficit and the race was dead even. Some polls showed Rollins trailing.

“Yes,” Abby said with a clap. If he lost the senate race, a political life would be pretty much over for him. There were term limits in California, and this was his last term as governor.

Abby decided to follow the race more closely.

Another article caught her eye. Walter Gunther was retiring. He’d not said a word about this the other day. Abby’s brows crunched in dismay. He’d been a reporter when the Triple Seven burned down, almost twenty-eight years ago. The article said he had a total of thirty-five years with the paper.

She liked Gunther and she’d miss him. On a whim, she picked up the phone and called him.

“Gunther,” the gruff voice answered on the second ring.

“You’re bailing on us?”

“That you, Hart? Indeed I am. Looking for greener pastures, pastures where computers no longer exist.”

Abby laughed. “You sound like Woody. I still can’t get him to look up the news on a computer.”

“Smart man. I’m going to find a world where people still use cursive writing and turn, not tap, the pages of the book they’re reading.”

“Sounds like a retirement home,” Abby said, snickering.

“Ha-ha.”

“Gunther, I’m going to miss you. Will you at least let me cash in that rain check and buy you lunch?”

“A late lunch. I need to eat, but I’ve a desk to clean out.”

“Pick a time and spot.”

“I’m low maintenance. How about the Long Beach Cafe around one thirty?”

“Great burgers. I’ll see you there.”

“Look forward to it.”

After she hung up the phone, Abby realized that Gunther could possibly be a great source of information on Alyssa Rollins. He’d said he was interested in what she was doing the other day. It surprised her that she’d not thought of it earlier, and then she wondered if he’d mind if she picked his brain at lunch.

With that new thought she gathered up her notes and worked on what she’d ask Gunther, eventually realizing that for a bit, she’d forgotten that Luke hadn’t yet returned her call.