WALTER GUNTHER was leaning against a parking structure pylon when Abby pulled into a space after lunch. She realized he was waiting for her when he gave her a mock salute. A cigarette hung from his mouth, and he looked rumpled and irritated.

That’s what I get for being predictable about where I park, she thought.

“This could be construed as stalking,” Abby said as she grabbed her bag and shut the car door.

“Wouldn’t have to hang around in the shadows if you’d return my phone calls.”

Abby stopped. She should have checked her voice mail and called him back. Gunther had never done her a wrong turn.

“Sorry; it’s been hectic.” She waved a hand toward the gathering crowd of press and onlookers in front of the podium outside the station’s front door. “Not much I can tell you; you’ll have to watch the flea circus.”

Gunther dropped the cigarette and ground it out with the toe of his shoe. “I plan to. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I had a question about the Dan Jenkins murder.”

Abby arched her eyebrows. “Jenkins?”

Gunther nodded. “I liked him; he was a good guy. Have you made any headway on his case? I live in what would have been his council district. His loss is huge to my neighborhood.”

Abby pursed her lips and considered his question. Jenkins had just filed papers to run for city council. She’d stayed awake for forty-eight hours straight trying to find a suspect and a motive or to ascertain where he’d been killed —all to no avail.

“Sorry, Gunther. I’ve hit a dead end. But I did send some evidence we got off his clothing to the feds. We don’t have the technology to process it, but they may be able to tell us something. It’s a priority for me, but you know they have their own timetable. I’ve got a new partner now, and that case will be back at the top of my list ASAP. I promise we’ll get right back on it.”

Gunther pulled out another cigarette and put it in his mouth but didn’t light it. “Dan and his wife are good people. I know you won’t let it go cold.”

“No, I won’t.”

The reporter smiled. “I might have some information that can help. When you have a minute, call me.”

“I will. But right now I have to get to —”

“The circus. Yep, I have to go find my spot too. Though I’m too big to ever be mistaken for a flea.” He gave her another mock salute and lumbered for the crush of press.

Abby followed him out of the garage but then veered off in a different direction, looking for familiar faces. She’d talked to all the granny murder relatives and apprised them of the situation with Sporty. The daughter of the first victim had indicated she would be at the press conference. Abby picked Marion Snyder out right away.

Taking a detour, she approached Marion. “Miss Snyder?”

The woman turned slowly. Suffering from rheumatoid arthritis, she was bent over from the waist and had difficulty moving her head. The joints of her hands looked more gnarled than the last time Abby had seen her.

“Detective Hart, do you have any more to tell me?”

Abby bent down to hold the woman’s gaze, not wanting to force her into an uncomfortable position. There were tears in her eyes.

“I’m certain we have the right man. But the court process may grind slowly.”

“No matter. This is an answer to prayer.” She grasped Abby’s hand in her bent and twisted fingers. “Thank you so much. I’ve forgiven the man in my heart, but he still must face justice. Perhaps that will save his soul.”

Abby acknowledged the woman’s words and scanned the crowd before continuing on to the podium. They were waiting on the governor, and a couple of the governor’s security staff checked her credentials as she headed to her place. She found Roper and stood next to him and half listened as he told her about security procedures because of the governor’s presence.

The words Marion Snyder had said stuck in her mind like a warp on a CD. “I’ve forgiven the man in my heart.” Abby’d had the forgiveness discussion with her aunt Dede many times. Abby always said she could forgive her parents’ killers but never felt it at her core, in her heart. It struck her then that Marion obviously felt the forgiveness.

Will I ever be at that point? she wondered.

When she saw the governor, she knew that no, she wouldn’t. He was her father’s age, and he’d had a productive twenty-seven years. What might her father have done if he’d not been stopped by a killer’s bullet? No, she thought, I won’t be able to feel the forgiveness. Not as long as the killers evade justice.

How do you forgive a monster?

Especially when the monster has never paid for his crime.

Content to stay in the background during the press conference, Abby studied the principals while Bill fidgeted next to her. She wished he’d relax. But she knew that most cops would rather face a carload of hostile gang members than a bunch of clamoring reporters, so she cut him some slack.

Cox wanted the spotlight and Abby was more than happy to let her have it. She focused on Governor Rollins, his wife, and the entourage around them. One person in particular caught her attention. Gavin Kent was the governor’s chief of staff, and she found his body language intriguing. Though there was plenty of security everywhere —they were in front of a police station for pete’s sake —Abby got the feeling Kent, a short, thickly built man, was tensed to body-block anyone he perceived as a threat to Rollins. He was very imposing with a hard stare and ramrod-straight posture, packing in a shoulder holster, she could tell. That surprised her as well. She’d have thought a glorified personal secretary would leave the firearms to security professionals.

Rollins was average in height and thin. His features reminded Abby of a gaunt distance runner. He’d been a marathon runner in the past, but she’d read that a knee injury ended that hobby. His gray hair was neatly styled and his suit looked well-tailored and expensive. Obviously in his element, he appeared relaxed and unaffected by grief at the moment. Alyssa Rollins probably qualified as a trophy wife. A tad taller than her husband, dark-red hair set perfectly, she seemed to glow. But her face wore a fake, frozen smile. Abby bet she really didn’t want to be here.

When Rollins stepped to the podium, he was brief, to the point, and eloquent, almost the exact opposite of Chief Cox. Rollins’s tone was charismatic, bordering on mesmerizing, and Abby guessed that was one reason he was so successful at winning votes. When he spoke, she heard grief in his voice.

“My aunt Cora was a precious lady, dignified and independent. She lived a long, productive life, and it breaks our hearts to see it end this way. I have every confidence in the Long Beach Police Department to successfully prosecute the individual responsible.”

Abby tuned him out as he started to list the people he thanked for handling the homicide proficiently. She wanted five minutes with him but wasn’t certain she’d get them. She’d noticed over the years that when high-powered people were involved with the police, they didn’t want to deal with peons; they wanted the top dog. Since the chief was out of the country at the moment, the top dog was Cox, and she knew Cox would never give up any of her face time with Rollins, especially for Abby.

The governor yielded the podium to Cox for an update on the investigation. While Cox droned on, obviously not even going to let the district attorney speak, Abby reviewed the search warrant findings in her head. She’d spoken with the DA briefly before the conference and knew that she had no trouble with the circumstantial case they had right now and would proceed to file charges.

She heard Cox call for the last question and tuned back in, not wanting to miss a minute with Rollins if she had the chance. To her surprise, Kent approached her.

“Detective Hart, the governor would like a word with you, please.” He gestured toward the front door of the station and all but ignored Roper. A security agent moved to push the door open.

Abby looked into Kent’s focused, unreadable gaze. “Certainly. My partner as well?”

Annoyance flashed in his eyes and a muscle in his jaw jumped, but he nodded to Bill.

Abby turned and headed into the station, Bill on her heels and Kent behind him.