Burning Proof
so. It’s weighing on me. I know I had no choice, but . . .”
    Jacoby watched her. There was no condemnation in his gaze. “I understand. I shot a guy once. He didn’t die, but it affected me, and the court case went on forever. Everybody is a Monday-morning quarterback.”
    She said nothing for a minute, relieved he got it at least on that level. When she’d told Bill, he’d understood immediately. “Take as much time as you need. I can handle our caseload right now. The one today is cake. You’ve been through a lot in the last few months.”
    Did she need to tell them how afraid she was that she would never be a cop again?
    “It’s really been a rough couple of months,” she admitted.
    Jacoby regarded her for a moment. “You’re right; it has been. I’ve signed off on it. File the paperwork with personnel. All I ask is that you keep the line of communication open with Collins. You’ll need to follow up with him before you return to work.”
    With that, Abby left the PD, her home away from home for twelve years. She thought it would be hard, but it wasn’t. She needed to get away from Joiner’s accusing face, needed to find some way to wipe the blood from her hands.

CHAPTER
- 14-
    BUT DID IT REALLY HAPPEN?
    Molly walked slowly through the market, studying items on the shelf. She was in the cereal aisle. She stepped close, tapping boxes as she read their names, pretending to concentrate on the cereal, but always watching behind. Then furtively checking in front.
    They were watching and staring; she knew it.
    “She’s the one.”
    The woman with the baby   —was it really a baby?
    The man stocking shelves.
    The old lady in the motorized cart.
    Molly felt their eyes on her as if they were pelting her with BBs.
    “That’s the girl.”
    She hurried out of the cereal aisle for the dairy products, but that’s where a group of teens were staring   —everyone was staring.
    She turned on her heel and broke into a jog, breath cut off by all the sharp eyes, pounding, suffocating her.
    Shoving the bag boy out of her way and ignoring his protest, she fled, hitting her full stride as the doors whooshed open and she was outside.
    “She made it all up.”
    More eyes. She wanted to scream.
    She turned left and sprinted, trying to get away from the eyes, but there was the cross. The evangelical church on the other side of the market, with a large cross in the front.
    God’s house.
    This was all God’s fault!
    God let Molly down in the worst way.
    Because of God she was crazy, and now the cross accused her.
    Molly’s head felt as if it would explode. She stopped and brought both hands to her head, ripping tufts of hair out of both sides.
    She screamed and cut right, into the street, away from the cross and in front of the car she never saw coming.

CHAPTER
- 15-
    “SORRY, BUT THINGS are bottled up right now.” FBI Agent Todd Orson sat across from Luke and Woody in a small coffee shop in East Long Beach. “The federal government rarely moves quickly.”
    “What’s the holdup?” Luke asked. He was anxious to start the new job working with Orson, and disappointment bit deep.
    “Politics, that’s all. One of the sponsors of the squad has some legal issues to deal with. The situation has shelved the squad for the time being. I’m hoping all will be cleared up by November.”
    “Fine with me,” Woody said. “It’s a kick working with Luke here. We step into the most interesting cases.”
    Orson chuckled. “Yep, Bullet filled me in. Watch out for those spry old fugitives.”
    Luke took the ribbing in stride. “I have no dearth of work to do, but after all the interviews and tests we’ve taken for the cold case squad, I was really hoping to get started.”
    “I know. I do have something for you.” Orson paused.
    “Yeah? What is it?”
    “I hesitate to give this to you because I’ll be in DC and I’m not certain I’ll be able to help much. But this woman who writes a crime blog for the high desert

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