“I don’t have anything to say.” Her voice was girlish. Everything about her was, now that I closed in and got a better look. A pink blouse, white jeans, bare feet with hot-pink nails. She even had pink barrettes in her hair. Cute on a seventeen-year-old. Sad at forty-three.

“Your mother says you’re having a rough time,” I said. “With me popping up in the news. Bringing back memories, is it?”

Her sharp chin bobbed.

“Memories or guilt?” I asked.

“Wh-what?” Then she glanced quickly at Gabriel, her look pleading. A woman accustomed to turning to men. When Gabriel only stood there, silent and impassive, she inched toward him and directed her answer his way. “I don’t have anything to feel guilty for,” she said.

“No?” I stepped toward her. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

She flinched.

I continued. “Marty knew the first victims: Amanda and Ken. Their connection is very intriguing. One that would be of great interest to others. The police, the press, my parents . . .”

She dove to the side. I had no idea where she thought she was going. We were in an enclosed parking garage. Cars lined either side of the narrow lane. One exit was behind me, another behind Gabriel. But she chose to race sideways, smacking into the rear bumper of a pickup. Then she dropped and scuttled under it.

I looked at Gabriel. He shook his head and took up position on the other side of the truck. It didn’t seem as if she planned to escape that way—or any way at all. She was just hiding.

“All right,” I said. “I take it that means you’d rather speak to the police.”

“I’m not talking to anyone,” her breathy voice whispered.

“I don’t think you’ll have much choice in that. It’s a murder investigation. You did hear that it’s reopened, didn’t you? I proved my parents didn’t kill Jan Gunderson and Peter Evans. All the murders are being reexamined. As soon as I tell the police about that very interesting link I found—”

“It was her fault.”

I paused. “Amanda’s?”

“No, Lisa. Marty’s bitch wife. It was her fault. Her idea.”

I glanced at Gabriel. He was thinking fast, his gaze gone distant, but no answer seemed to be forthcoming quickly enough.

“Is that what Marty told you?” I said.

“It’s the truth. He always told me the truth. She tricked him into marrying her, and then she threatened to hurt him if he left. She tricked him into the other thing, too, and threatened him if he told anyone.”

“He was ex-military and twice her size.”

“That doesn’t matter. She knew stuff—satanic stuff. She was evil.”

Gabriel’s eyes snapped wide, as close to a genuine Holy shit look as he could manage. Luckily, being under the truck, Imogen couldn’t see us staring dumbfounded at each other.