“I heard rumors while I was with Cyrus. I didn’t want to believe them.” Chevy studied the teacup she was holding. “There was one girl who got in trouble. . . . She made one of Cyrus’s friends mad.” She paused and sipped her tea. Dr. Peel had placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.

Her voice was weak and reedy when she continued. “I didn’t see it. But I heard that Ice shot her while she was eating breakfast and then wrapped her up in a rug and dumped her in the desert.”

Harp snorted with disgust.

Tess, too, felt the disgust. This Ice character was truly evil. Unredeemable. Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, Oliver’s words came back to her, what he’d said when they discussed Beck. “Everyone matters under the law, or nobody matters. If under man’s law, everyone matters, how much more to God does everyone matter?” It gave her pause as she considered the vile actions of Ice.

Steve interrupted her musing. “Can you think of anything else that might help us?” he asked.

Chevy chewed on her thumb cuticle for a couple of seconds, then shook her head.

Oliver and Bronwyn called out from the kitchen that they were fixing something to eat. This was welcome news to Tess, whose stomach was making a lot of noise.

Tess put a hand on Chevy’s shoulder. “Thanks for your help, Chevy. What you’ve told us will help a great deal.”

Chevy shot her a sheepish look. “Sorry I gave you such a bad time.”

“Forgiven and forgotten. Go get something to eat.”

Dr. Peel took Chevy into the kitchen.

With Chevy gone, Steve turned his attention to Harp, explaining to her the next steps she needed to take. A formal interview, fingerprints, etc. Tess tuned them out and, sipping her coffee, walked over to look at the items Steve had removed from the rental car. There were a couple of handguns, a MAC-10, an AK-47, a well-used pair of men’s boots, and a knapsack.

“Have you gone through this knapsack?” she asked.

Steve turned from his Harp notes. “Not yet. Go ahead.”

Tess pulled some gloves from her pocket, picked up the knapsack, and brought it to the counter where Steve and Harp sat. She busied herself with inventorying the bag’s contents.

The first few things she removed—a couple of T-shirts, a sweatshirt, and a sooty pair of pants—were not surprising. But toward the bottom, things got more interesting. There was a box of black hair dye for men, a box of Ben Nye theatrical stage makeup, and some .38 caliber ammunition. At the very bottom was the biggest surprise.