“THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE.” Kent spoke, voicing the words that stuck in Luke’s throat.

How could Abby Hart be Abigail Morgan, the little girl his uncle died saving twenty-seven years ago? He knew her so well; he’d studied her parents and learned all there was to know about their life before they were murdered. How did I miss this?

For a minute Rollins just stared. When he did speak, the commanding, confident tone was gone.

“Uh . . . umm.” He straightened his coat, glanced at his wife and then away. “Uh, I think what Gavin means is . . . Well, we’d been told you were placed out of state . . .” The governor’s voice faded.

Luke’s gaze bounced from Rollins to Abby to Mrs. Rollins to Kent. Shock seemed to suck the air out of the room. Only Hart appeared to have her footing.

“Eventually, yes. I went to live with my aunt in Oregon.”

“And came back,” Mrs. Rollins murmured, and Luke saw something flit across her face, an indefinable emotion.

“My goodness, I don’t know what to say.” Rollins’s voice was back. He held his hand out as if measuring the height of a child. “The last time I saw you, you were six years old. I —uh . . . They told me to stop asking about you, that I would endanger you. And now . . . well, I see your parents in you. Your mother’s lovely eyes, your father’s strong jaw and directness. I’m astonished. Astonished.”

“You came back to solve the murders?” Luke found his voice. Everyone turned to stare at him —Luke could feel their eyes —but he kept his on Abby.

“That’s one reason.” She kept her eyes on Rollins. “And, Governor, if I could ask you some questions about what happened —”

“I don’t know that I can help. I wasn’t even in Long Beach the day of the fire. It was so long ago . . .” He started to say something else, but Kent interrupted.

“Sir, we’re on a tight timetable here.”

“Yes, Lowell.” Alyssa Rollins tugged her husband’s arm. “We need to be about the state’s business.” She faced Abby. “Are we finished here?”

“As far as Cora’s murder, yes, but —”

“Then we thank you. And we’ll be in touch when formal charges are filed against your suspect.” Alyssa took the governor’s arm and led him out of the house.

Kent addressed Abby. “I’m sorry, but that time period was the most traumatic of the governor’s life. He not only lost his best friends and business partners, but two months later his brother, Louis, was killed in a hit-and-run accident.” He gave a curt nod and hurried after his employer.

Luke felt his jaw slacken as the three people left with some alacrity. He watched Abby, whose face was a study in frustration.

What do you say to someone you’ve known on paper for more than twenty-five years?

“I can’t believe you’re Abigail Morgan.”

She faced him, a frown marring her features. “They sure left in a hurry.”

“I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life.” Luke felt something was odd about the hasty departure himself, but right now his needle stuck in the groove over Abby’s news.

“What?” The frown turned to confusion.

“My uncle was the cook who pulled you from the fire.” He stepped closer. “Luke Goddard was my uncle. Do you want to find your parents’ killers as badly as I want to find my uncle’s?”