“Thank you for doing this.” He took the outline. “I’ll give it another look, clean it up. I’ve got folks in New York and Toronto waiting for it. Was that it, just the typos?”

Emma blinked several times.

“Go ahead, tell me.”

“One thing. It’s about the identities of the girls.”

“What about it?”

“They’re confidential and it’s against the law if you identify them.”

“Right.”

“Wouldn’t your publisher’s lawyers have a concern?”

“No. I’ve talked with them and with justice people involved in the case. You’re correct, the law protects them from being identified but if they agree to talk and their identities are kept confidential, in keeping with the law, then they’re free to speak to me, to have input in the book.”

“How will you find them?”

“I’m a bit rusty, but there are ways. With some help it can be done.”

“What if they won’t talk to you? I would think that this is something they would not want to talk about. It might be too difficult for them. What if you can’t find them, or they’re dead? Wouldn’t that weaken the book, send you back to square one, leave you with a lot of wasted time and energy?”

“Boy, you really don’t want me to do this book, do you?” Ben smiled.

“I have a bad feeling about it, Ben. It’s just so—so—disturbing.”

“Listen, honey. First off, I’m contractually bound. Second, you raise very valid points. Yes, anything’s possible. But I’m confident I’ll find these killers and present them with a chance to open up about that night and how three young multiple murderers have been living all these years as free adult women.”

Emma was silent as Ben looked at papers scattered on his desk.

“I just need to book my flight, hotel, car rental.” Then his eyes found hers. “Is there something you want to tell me, Emma?”

Another moment passed.

Emma smiled, then shook her head.

Fifty-Six

El Paso, Texas
A few days ago

The flat monotony of the Chihuahuan Desert sweeping by the bus window contrasted with the images Lucy showed Rita on her laptop.

An array of Google photos, Street View and satellite frames of a home in Orange County, California. It was a cream-colored, Spanish-style two-level house with a triple garage. Shaded by palms, it had lush gardens and stone block fencing. Aerial pictures showed the in-ground pool, patio and vibrant flower beds.

“That’s her house?” Rita asked.

“Yes, and look.” Lucy clicked on other photos of a beautiful cabin surrounded by trees. “They got this little getaway in the San Bernardino Mountains, too. There’s more.”

She clicked to a video of a short TV report from KRVZ about a charity book sale.

“This is a terrific cause and you can see, a lot of people support it…”