“A first name isn’t a lot to go on,” she said.

“But it’s all we got. Can you do it? Can you find her?”

She couldn’t offer any guarantees. No woman named Julia had been reported missing from this area in the past twenty years. They didn’t have a body—at least, not one they’d positively identified. And her name hadn’t come up in any other context—just the letters Finch had found and what Francesca had overheard Paris say.

“I’ll do my best,” she replied. “But I need you to do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Give me the date of the very first letter.”

Paper crinkled on the other end. “Assuming they’re all here, and it certainly looks that way since they were all shoved in the same box under his bed, he wrote the first one on—” a few seconds of silence ticked by “—May 15, 2008.”

Two years ago… “Okay. I’m coming to get them,” she said. “Maybe there’s a reference or a name in one that could start a chain for me to follow.”

“Daylight’s wasting,” he said. Then he was gone.

Francesca’s call came in when Jonah was about thirty minutes from Prescott. He sped up as he answered, even though he was already at risk for a ticket. What if I can’t hate you? He’d been hearing her voice in his head ever since he’d hung up with her earlier, when he was still in California, had been telling himself not to invest that question with more meaning than he should. Not hating him was a far cry from loving him, or being willing to give him a second chance.

“Almost there,” he told her. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to let you know that you can go straight to the salvage yard, if you like.”

“Don’t tell me you’re heading back to Chandler.” He didn’t like the sound of that, didn’t want her to be alone.

“No, I’m not sure where I’ll be. I’m hoping to find Julia.”

He couldn’t recall who she meant. “Julia?”

“The woman Paris mentioned when I was in the salvage yard. Finch feels she’s important to the investigation.”

“What’s changed? He didn’t seem too interested before.”

“He found a box of love letters written to a Julia under Dean’s bed. Now he’s convinced that whatever role she played might be significant.”

“I’d say that’s more likely than not,” he mused and turned down the radio. “Any sign of Dean?”

“No. None.”

Knowing how much he’d worry about Francesca if Dean remained at large for any length of time, how impossible it would be to leave the state and go home, he cursed. “Not the answer I wanted to hear.”

“Not the answer I wanted to give you,” she responded.

He slowed for a light, thought again of their earlier conversation in which she’d hinted that she still cared for him—and purposely avoided asking if it was true. “Where do you plan to start your search for Julia?”

“If Butch, Paris and Dean all know her, chances are she’s either related to one of them or she’s local. And since Butch is completely estranged from his family, even the family who took him in, and has been for a number of years, I figure the Wheelers’ relatives are much more likely to possess information that might help us.”

“Seems reasonable to me. Has Finch come up with anything besides those letters?”

“Not yet. But it’s a big property. They have a lot of looking to do.”

The light turned green, and he gave the Jeep Grand Cherokee he’d rented at the airport some gas. “What about Butch and Paris? Anyone talking?”

“No one. All the principal parties are planning to get an attorney.”

Because of what he’d learned about that black garbage bag, he’d expected as much. “They definitely have something to hide. But what? What could’ve happened to bring them all into collusion? I have a hard time believing they’d stick together to protect a serial killer, even one who’s part of the family. That would make them as culpable as Dean.”

“I agree. Maybe one person might let loyalty interfere with doing the right thing, but four? The question isn’t just what they’re hiding but why.”

“It would have to be a compelling reason….”

“Maybe they’re all benefiting from these deaths in some way or another.”

“How? Unless it’s petty robbery. And I can’t imagine that’d be nearly enough incentive.”

“Me, neither. But there’s a common thread in this. We just have to find it.”

Maybe he’d do that when he and the security guard traveled into the Juniper Mountains. Although he’d originally planned on taking Francesca along, keeping her by his side every second, he felt she’d be safe for a few hours, since Dean wouldn’t have any idea where she might be. But, considering what Ray Leedy had seen the night before, he wanted her to know that Butch might be a threat, too; there could be anything in that black bag, including the body of the woman she was hoping to find.

“You’re kidding me,” she said when he finished explaining.

“No. So…this thing is far from over. Keep your eyes open, okay?”

“I will.”

He knew she was about to hang up but, for some reason, felt compelled to stop her before she could. “Francesca?”

“What?”

Don’t ask. Let her meet someone who hasn’t hurt her the way you have. “Never mind,” he said. “I’ll catch you later.”

What was it Jonah had wanted?

Tempted to call him back to see if she could get him to tell her, Francesca stared down at her phone as she left the sheriff’s station. She was fairly certain he hadn’t been about to make another comment on the case. The energy of those last few seconds had seemed far too personal, as if the world had suddenly shrunk into an intimate bubble that included only the two of them. But if he’d been about to admit that he cared for her, what would she say in return? What did she want from their renewed association?

That was a difficult question to answer because as much as she still loved him, she wasn’t sure it would be wise to hope for a future together. Too many obstacles stood between them. For one, it’d been a decade since their earlier relationship. Those years had changed them both. For another, they lived in different states. Then there was Adriana. Was there room in her life for both of them? Or would it become painful and awkward, eventually making her resent one or the other? She also had to think of her family. If she and Jonah decided to marry at some point, could she really expect her parents and her brother to embrace him?




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