Harley took Route 25 from Albuquerque to Santa Fe, her journey framed by the Jemez Mountains to the northwest and the Sangre de Cristo to the north. As she shadowed the Rio Grande, passing some of North Americas oldest settlements, she pictured her fathers angry face as he stared out the window, ignoring her very existence.

She had thought that, after all these years and with death at the door, her father might finally open up about what had happened to Kelly. He might even accept responsibility for neglecting Greg and Harley.

Instead, he had ripped the bandage off the wound.

Will we ever understand one another? she thought bleakly. Greg would stay with him to the bitter end, but Harley couldnt do the same. It was too toxic, being around him, too painful. They seemed to bring out the worst in one another.

As the desert drifted past her, she put her thoughts of family behind and focused on her upcoming meeting. One of her personal rules, developed from interviewing numerous suspects, was never to enter a meeting unprepared. The problem was, she didnt know a damn thing about this Alex Newbury. He seemed to know plenty about her, though.

As Harley entered the Santa Fe field office, a young woman with butterfly earrings and blonde hair tied up in a loose bun rose from behind a desk to greet her. You must be Harley, she said with a bright smile. How was your visit with family?

Harley was a little taken aback by this personal touch. It was okay. Thank you for asking.

My pleasure. Special Agent Newburys office is just down the hall. If I can get you anything at all, dont hesitate to ask.

Harley heard Newburys voice before she reached the office. The door was open, so she stepped inside. Special Agent Alex Newbury, a trim man with a military-style haircut and a crisp suit, stood by the window talking into his phone, his roving gaze suggesting to Harley a quick, energetic mind.

Yes, I understand, he said, flashing a polite smile at Harley. Ill touch base with you laterabout to go into a meeting. Okay. Thank you.

The special agent hung up the phone and extended his hand to Harley. Ah, there you are. Glad you could make it. How was the drive? His handshake was firm, the skin calloused.

Scenic.

I understand you grew up in the area?

She nodded. First time Ive been back since high school.

Well, not much changes around here, does it? Please, have a seat. He gestured to a chair as he moved behind his desk and sat down. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea? Barb makes this spiced rum tea that will make you think youre on a cruise in the Caribbean.

Just water, thank you.

The special agent rose, took a bottle of water from a mini fridge situated beside a bookshelf, and handed it to Harley.