Harley closed her eyes and leaned wearily against her hand. "Because I'm scared, Greg. I'm so angry at him for the way he's treated me, and I don't know if I can keep my cool. I feel like I have so much to say to him that I can't just walk in there and say it. It's too much."

"It's your call, Harley," Greg said, sounding distracted. Harley could hear traffic in the background. "You know he's not going anywhere. But sooner or later, you guys need to have that conversation, and there's no telling how much time Dad has left. So don't put it off forever."

"Thanks, Greg. I'm sorry I called you. I didn't mean to bother you."

"It's no bother. You're my sister, and that means it's my job to be there for you. Don't ever forget that."

Harley smiled even as tears brimmed in her eyes. "I won't. I love you, Greg. You always make me feel betterdid you know that?"

"You do the same for me."

"Talk to you later, idioto."

She heard a smile in Gregs voice. "You havent called me that in ages. Im glad youre here, Harley."

"Me too, Greg."

After ending the call, Harley took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She felt better already at the idea of not seeing her father just yet. Where, though, should she go? It felt too early and too depressing to go back to her room right now, with the sun still high overhead.

Unable to help herself, she glanced over at the file on the seat beside her, reflecting sunlight off it like a rebuke. It drew her in, as much as she hated to admit it.

The diner, she thought. That was always where she did her best thinking. Besides, she was hungry.

She started the car and pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

* * *

As Harley entered the diner, she was grateful for the cool air, a welcome respite from the desert heat. The restaurant was exactly as she remembered it: the same cheap booths, the same worn counter, the same faces of the same old servers.

She crossed the mostly empty place to her old favorite booth, still empty, the file tucked beneath her arm. She sat and placed it on the table before her.

Despite her reservations, she opened it.

The file contained information on Theresa Flowers and Lisa Powell, two young women whose bodies had recently been discovered in old mine shafts far off the beaten path. According to the ME reports, their bodies had been found at the beginning stages of decomposition, which suggested they hadnt been there long.

Studying the photographs, Harley did not need to read the paperwork to see the similarities. Both women were young, trim, and blonde; both had been bound and hooded, though one had managed to escape these restraints; and both had been sexually active shortly before their deaths.