LUKE PULLED UP to a Laundromat in the city of Santa Ana. Or rather, it was a lavandería. Every business name on the weather-beaten strip mall was in Spanish. Santa Ana was an Orange County city squeezed in between Anaheim, Costa Mesa, and Buena Park. It housed a heavily Hispanic population and was plagued in areas with gangs and gang violence. This particular area was tired and poor, but not terribly dangerous. It was also not where the young girl he was looking for should be, but it was where she’d ended up after running away with her boyfriend.

Crystal Smith had run away from the San Fernando Valley to be with her boyfriend, Ricardo. Luke had done a lot of legwork in the case; Crystal’s family only had a general idea of where she might be. He’d discovered Crystal and Ricardo living in a cheap motel next door to this strip mall. They were surviving on what Ricardo scraped up by securing day work.

The Smiths asked Luke to confront the girl. “We’ve pushed her away. We were so angry and hurt to hear that she was pregnant at seventeen.”

You’re right; anger and unforgiveness won’t solve the problem, and you don’t want your daughter and grandchild destitute somewhere.

At the same time, they were afraid if they confronted her again, they’d push her further away. They’d asked Luke to contact her first. They didn’t believe that they could force her to come home; rather, they hoped Luke could persuade her to return voluntarily.

Luke waited for Ricardo to leave for the day. Idly, he wondered what Abby or Bill would do in this situation. Crystal and Ricky were a gray area. Both seventeen, almost adults and old enough to be on their own. The police wouldn’t force her to return home. Add to that she was four months pregnant and she willingly left with Ricardo —Luke knew it would be a tough sell on every front to get the girl to go home.

The only thing he could hope was that the contrast of where the girl was now against where she grew up would work to help convince her that going home to the valley was best for all involved. Luke prayed for wisdom as a battered pickup truck pulled into the hotel lot. Ricardo ran out, hopped in, and the truck pulled away.

Luke got out of his truck, intending to knock on the hotel room door, when it opened and Crystal stepped out, dragging a garbage bag behind her. In the other hand she had a bottle of laundry detergent, so Luke assumed she was on her way to the Laundromat.

He waited until she was inside the lavandería and packing clothes into a machine before he walked across the lot.

Crystal was the only person in the place, Luke noted. Which was good, he hoped. He didn’t want to scare her.

“Crystal?”

She turned at her name, and the look on her face could only be described as deer in the headlights.

Luke held up both hands. “Hey, I’m not here to scare you. I just want to talk; that’s all.”

“Who are you?” She dropped the clothes in her hand and looked toward the door, wanting an escape route, Luke guessed. Crystal was a slight, pale girl, with only a hint of her pregnancy showing. It broke Luke’s heart that she looked as though she should still be playing with dolls instead of preparing to be a mother.

“My name is Luke Murphy. I’m a private investigator. Your parents sent me.”

“You touch me, I’ll scream.” She backed up.

“I’m not going to touch you. I just want to talk.”

“What about? You found me, so now my parents know I’m here. Me and Ricky will have to move again.”

“Yes, I found you and I told your parents. They’ve known you were here for a week.”

“My parents hate me.”

Luke shook his head. “They don’t hate you. They said some things they regret, but they love you and they’re worried about you and the baby.”

She chewed on a thumbnail and seemed to digest that.

“I’m not going to lie —they’re not thrilled with Ricardo, but they want you home, and they are willing to talk to you about the situation without all the horrible stuff that was said when you told them you were pregnant.”

“I’m fine here with Ricky. What if I told you to go away?”

“I’ll leave, and I won’t bother you again. But would you speak to your mother? That won’t hurt, will it? If, after you talk to her, you want to stay here, they won’t force you to come home. They only want to know that you’re okay and that you have all you need for the baby.”

Two women entered, chatting in Spanish. They eyed Luke, and he nodded and smiled. They moved to the other side of the Laundromat and began doing their laundry, continuing the conversation as they did.

“Is my mom here?”

“No, but you can talk to her on my cell phone. She’s waiting to hear, one way or another, how you’re doing.”

Crystal turned away from him and finished filling the machine. She poured in soap, added her coins, and started the cycle.

“Are you happy here, Crystal? I think that’s all your mom wants to know. And if you need any help. She’s ready to help. She only wants what’s best for you.”

Luke stepped closer and leaned against a machine, watching the girl. He prayed this scene was never repeated down the road with Maddie. Mrs. Smith had told him how Crystal had been a straight A student with plans for college until she met Ricardo. Now she’d dropped out of school and run away. Would Maddie meet a boy and run off the rails like this? It twisted his gut in a knot to think it was remotely possible.

“They know I’m here. . . . Have they been watching me?”

“No, they’ve been praying, wondering how best to help you.”

“Praying?” She snorted. “They don’t go to church anymore.”

“They do now. Crystal, everyone in this situation has made a mistake. You got pregnant too young, your parents reacted badly, and then you and Ricky ran away. All your mom wants is a chance to make her part of it right. Will you just let her talk?”

She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve, then looked at him, defiance in her eyes. “If I tell her to go away and stop bugging me, she will?”

“If that’s what you want.”

She nodded after a minute.

“Let’s go outside so you can hear.”

She followed him to the parking lot, and he took out his phone, punching in the Smiths’ number. Mrs. Smith answered on the first ring.

“She’s all right?”

“Yes,” Luke said. “She looks fine and she’s agreed to talk to you.” Just before he handed the phone to Crystal, he thought he heard a sob from the phone.

The girl waited a moment, then took the phone. “Mom?”

Crystal spent twenty minutes crying on the phone with her mother. In the end, bridges were mended and the girl agreed to talk to Ricky about returning home, to be certain she received the medical care necessary for the course of her pregnancy. Her parents also agreed to speak to Ricardo and maybe help him find employment in the valley so that the two could be together and hopefully get married. Mrs. Smith had made it clear they didn’t condone what had happened, but a child had been conceived and needed to be cared for, and hopefully with everyone communicating, other problems could be solved as well.

Luke left Santa Ana gratified. His first job as a PI had been with a seasoned investigator, a way to learn the ropes in order to get to the point where he could open his own business. The PI he’d worked for had retired from LAPD after thirty-two years in uniform, and Luke had learned a lot from the man and was eternally grateful for the experience he’d gained. He’d been assigned a lot of work for insurance companies and had taken classes in accident reconstruction. He participated in a lot of fraud investigations —once tracked down a treasurer who absconded with a church bank account to Mexico —and some bounty hunter work. He had also logged some unpleasant work conducting surveillance on cheating husbands and wives. But when he found his first runaway girl and reunited her with her family, he knew that would be what he wanted his business to concentrate on. Sure, there were some girls who fled abusive situations, and he’d been able to see that some stepfathers were charged, but a lot of girls were deceived into leaving home and then exploited, and those were the ones he felt compelled to work to save.

Even if there wasn’t a lot of money in it, that didn’t matter. And the Lord always seemed to provide.

After leaving Crystal, Luke returned home to catch up on e-mails and paperwork. An e-mail from an old friend piqued his interest.

Bullet, saw news blurb on a cold case in your neck of the woods. . . . Would love to chat about it and catch up on old times. I’ll be calling.

Todd Orson, aka Ice Age, was someone Luke served with in the Army Special Forces. He used Luke’s nickname, one he hadn’t heard in quite a while, one that brought up mixed feelings.

Luke sat back in the chair and read the note over and over. His Army days were a source of pride and shame for Luke. He’d been true to his uniform and his oath of service but not to his marriage vows, leading a wild life overseas. He hadn’t become a Christian until after his wife’s death. The if onlys tormented him still. If only he hadn’t argued with her over the phone when he knew she was driving. He’d wanted to reenlist; she’d wanted him home. The scream and the crash and the disconnected phone call would stay with him forever.

Ice Age reminded him of segments of a life he wished he could forget. His old friend worked for the FBI now, Luke had heard through the grapevine. He didn’t know if Orson was as wild as he used to be. He may have settled down like I have, Luke thought.

In any event, Luke hoped Ice Age did call. He’d like to catch up and show him how his life had changed.