Luke nudged the waiter out of the way. “I’ll get this for you. Good night.”

Susannah watched as he pushed the cart into the room and closed the door. “What are you doing here?” she asked, though not unkindly.

“I needed to ask you something.” But then he got a look at her clothes and a sudden pulse of heat burned his skin. A tight skirt hit her legs midthigh and a clingy sweater dipped low. She looked utterly young and almost carefree. And I want her. Now.

“Looks like my niece Stacie bought what she wanted for herself,” he said, forcing his voice to be amused. “My sister Demi won’t let her dress like that.”

Her smile was rueful. “I thought as much, but I had to get rid of those scrubs.” She gestured at the cart. “Would you like to join me?”

“I’m starving,” he confessed. “But I don’t want to take your dinner.”

“I’ll never eat all this,” she said and pointed at the small table in the corner. “Sit.”

He maneuvered around the cart, hitting the desk with his hip. Her laptop cleared of its screensaver and he stopped when he saw what filled the screen. “Your statement.”

She put the tray on the table. “I’m meeting ASA Hathaway tomorrow morning.”

“She said you’d called.” He narrowed his eyes at the two sets of silverware on the tray, thinking of the man who’d come from her room. “You ordered dinner for two.”

“I always do. I don’t want anyone to think I’m here alone.” She shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “It’s the irrational fears that get you at three a.m. Eat before it gets cold.”

Three a.m. fears he understood. Three a.m. rarely found him asleep. They ate in silence, until Luke’s need to know overwhelmed. “Who was the man who left here?”

She blinked. “My boss. Al Landers, from New York. I’d called him earlier, told him about the box, and my statement. He came to make sure I was okay.” Her eyes widened. “You thought-? Oh, no. Al’s married.” Her jaw set. “He’s a good man.”

Luke’s gut settled. “That was nice of him to come all this way,” he said quietly.

She seemed to settle as well. “And it was nice of your niece to go shopping for me.” She got up and got her purse. “Here’s a check. Will you give it to her?”

He slid the check into his shirt pocket. “That’s not what you would have bought.”

“No, but that doesn’t make it any less kind. When I go back to New York, she can have this outfit if her mom will let her. I’m sure it would look better on her. I’m too old to dress like this.” She sat down and met his eyes. “What did you want to ask me?”

For a moment he couldn’t remember, then his good sense kicked in. “Did you ever visit a cabin up in the mountains?”

She frowned. “A cabin? No. Why?”

“I talked to Garth Davis tonight and he mentioned that they normally used one another’s houses for the… assaults, but that one night they used a cabin in the mountains. Granville made the arrangements and drove them there in secret.”

Her eyes had flickered at his hesitation. “Does Davis know who owned it?”

“I think so, but he’s not saying until we find his kids. His wife took off with them yesterday when she found out Mack O’Brien had targeted their family.”

“Garth’s cousin was murdered. I read about it in the paper.” She sat back, thinking. “My father didn’t have a cabin that I knew of. He bought a ski chalet in Vale, but to my knowledge he never used it.”

“Why did he buy it then?”

“I think to torment us, especially my mother. She wanted to go out West, but he wouldn’t take the time. He bought the chalet so they owned it, but she couldn’t use it.”

“But no cabin in the mountains here?”

“No. But I do remember him going fishing with Randy Mansfield’s father.”

“He and Mansfield ’s father were friends?”

She shrugged. “When it suited either of them. Mansfield ’s father was the county prosecutor and would come around when he had a case that wasn’t going well. They’d whisper in my father’s office and suddenly the tide would turn the prosecution’s way.”

“So Mansfield ’s father bribed your father.”

“Sure. Lots of people bribed my father. My father bribed lots of people. Blackmailed others.” Her eyes flashed. “I wanted to tell, but nobody would have believed me.”

“Who could you have told? You had no idea who wasn’t in your dad’s pocket.”

The rage in her eyes subsided. “I know. They were all in it together.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to dredge all this up.”

“It’s okay. You were asking about the cabin. When my father and Richard Mansfield went fishing, they did go to a cabin.” She looked down, thinking, then abruptly looked up, meeting his eyes. “Judge Borenson. It was his cabin.”

“I know that name. I’ve heard it recently. Can I use your laptop?”

“Of course.”

He sat down at the desk and she stood behind him, watching him type.

“Oh my God,” she murmured, reaching over his shoulder to point at the screen at the same time the words jumped out at him. “Borenson presided over Gary Fulmore’s trial.”

“The man falsely convicted for killing Alex Fallon’s twin sister thirteen years ago,” Luke muttered, focusing on the computer screen and not on her clingy sweater that brushed his shoulder or her scent that filled his head. “Coincidence?”

“No,” she murmured. “It can’t be a coincidence.” She stepped back, lowering herself to the edge of the bed. “Gary Fulmore served thirteen years for a murder he didn’t do.”

“Mack O’Brien’s older brother Jared killed Alex’s sister,” Luke told her, both relieved and disappointed at the distance she’d put between them. “But nobody else knew that back then. All the boys in the gang thought the other had killed Alicia Tremaine, because she was alive when they left her after raping her. Jared O’Brien went back, raped her again, and killed her when she tried to scream for help.”

“Frank Loomis was the sheriff then. He tampered with evidence. Framed Gary Fulmore for the murder. Why?”

“I know Daniel wants to know.”

“Frank treated Daniel like his own son, gave him his first job at the police station. Finding out Frank had done such a terrible thing must have killed him.”

Luke looked over his shoulder abruptly. “Frank treated Daniel like his own son. Could he have treated Granville the same way?”

“Frank Loomis as Granville’s thích?” she asked doubtfully. “I guess it’s possible.”

“Were Sheriff Loomis and Judge Borenson friends?”

“I don’t know. They could have been. Dutton politics forged strange bedfellows.”

Luke searched through the rest of the Borenson search hits. “He’s pushing seventy, but I don’t see a death notice, so he’s probably still alive. We need to talk to him.”

“If Borenson’s cabin was known to Granville, it could be known to whoever is his partner now.” She drew a breath. “And…”

“The girls could be there. It’s a long shot, but it is a possibility, and right now, it’s all we have.” He looked over his shoulder. “Do you know where Borenson’s cabin was?”

“Somewhere up in North Georgia. I’m sorry. I wish I knew more.”

“No, you’ve been a big help. I can find the cabin if it was in his name.” He typed in another search and sat back. “The cabin’s up past Ellijay on Trout Stream Drive.”

“That area is remote. It’ll be hard to find, especially in the dark. You’ll need a guide.”

“I’ve fished at cabins up in Ellijay. I should be able to find my own way.” Luke paused at the door, then gave in, turning for a last look. “You’re wrong, you know.”

“About what?”

His mouth was suddenly dry. “You’re not too old for that outfit. Stacie chose well.”

One side of her mouth lifted. “Good night, Agent Papadopoulos. Good hunting.”

Ridgefield , Georgia , Saturday, February 3, 12:30 a.m.

Bobby smiled at Haynes. “It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, Darryl.”

Haynes slipped his money clip back in his pants pocket. “Likewise. I have to say I’m disappointed the blonde took sick, though. I kind of had my hopes up, there.”