“If I had tried to hack you, I would’ve hacked you. I just tried to utilize your computer and used my three tries to guess your password. It wasn’t your mother’s name or birthday, interestingly enough.” Her smile was catlike and now her lipstick had been dimmed by a light pink sparkle.

Laurel opened the laptop bag by her chair to check the lip gloss she kept in there. Pink sparkle. “Did you go through all of my belongings?”

“Of course. It’s a pity you don’t have a real desk with actual drawers. I was bored within minutes.” Abigail crossed her legs beneath a black skirt she’d paired with a matching jacket over a silky white blouse. “Where did you get this gloss? It tastes delicious.”

Laurel took control of the situation fast. “Why are you here?”

Abigail lost her amusement. “The FBI contacted me today regarding the search for our father. I’ve told you, he left the church on his own accord, and that’s the end of it. Why are you still looking for him?”

“Because he’s missing,” Laurel said. She wouldn’t stop until she found him. If nothing else, he had to answer for what he’d done to her mother, although the statute of limitations had run out on the rape. “The current pastor of the church filed a missing person’s report for Pastor Zeke Caine, and I will find him.”

“You don’t want to find him. Trust me.” Abigail glanced down at her hands, looking vulnerable. Looks could be so deceiving.

Laurel cleared her throat. Their father had forced Abigail to hide her unusual hair color and odd eyes instead of embracing her uniqueness, and then he’d all but given her up when she was a child after her mother died. Abigail appeared to hold an abundance of resentment against their absent and now seemingly missing father, and Laurel couldn’t blame her for that. She’d been pretty much forced into college as a young teen without the support that Laurel had received from her own mother. Even so, Laurel needed answers. “What kind of experiments did you perform on Davie Tate?”

Abigail looked from her nails to Laurel’s face. She laughed. “Experiments? Come on.”

The moment was akin to looking in a mirror but a thousand times more uncomfortable. “Answer the question, Abigail.”

Abigail’s gaze zeroed in on Laurel’s neck. “Oh, little sister. Did a big bad wolf bite you?”

Laurel glanced pointedly at her phone.

“Very well, then. I’ll tell you what. We’ll go tit for tat.” The gleam in Abigail’s dual-colored eyes showed no give. The woman would walk right out no matter what Laurel did.