“So how did you get these pictures now?”

“This past Thanksgiving my parents found out Simon was still alive.”

“Because the blackmailer up in Philly had contacted your father.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. “Wow, that really was some article.”

“Got that off the Internet. Your family’s hot news, boy.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Wonderful. Well, Dad and Mother went up to Philly to find Simon. Mother wanted to bring him home, certain he’d been some amnesia victim or something. Dad wanted to reinforce his blackmail, so he took the pictures with him to Philly. Eventually Mother realized Dad was never going to let her see Simon.”

“Simon would have told her that your father had known all along that he was alive.”

“Exactly. Then Dad disappeared. He must have found Simon because Simon killed him and buried him in a deserted field with all his other victims. Simon contacted my mother and she was planning to meet him. She knew she could be walking into a trap but she didn’t care.”

“Because she was dying of cancer and had nothing more to lose.”

“Yes. She opened a mailbox for me at one of those mailbox stores. Inside the box were these pictures. She’d left them in the event Simon did kill her.”

“You said Ciccotelli up in Philly had copies. Does he know you kept the originals?”

“No. I made the copies I gave him.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “You copied these at a regular copy machine?”

“No,” Daniel scoffed. “After I found the pictures at the mailbox store, I bought a copier-scanner. I had a few hours before Susannah arrived from New York, so I went back to my hotel room, set the scanner up to my laptop, and made the copies there.”

“You set up a scanner all by yourself?”

“I’m not completely inept,” Daniel said dryly. “The guy in the store showed me how.” He looked back at the picture of Alicia’s assault. “I’ve had nightmares about these girls for years. Since I got the pictures back a week ago, I’ve been memorizing their faces. I promised myself that I’d find out what part Simon had in getting these pictures, then I’d find the girls and tell them Simon was dead. I never dreamed the first ID would be dumped in my lap this way.”

“So you didn’t know Alicia Tremaine at all?”

“No. She was five years younger than me, so I never would have known her at school and I was away at college when she was murdered.”

“And none of these guys in the pictures are Simon?”

“No. All the men have both their legs. Simon was an amputee. Plus Simon was a good bit taller than any of these guys. I haven’t seen any tattoos or any other identifying features or marks on any of the pictures.”

“But now you have one of the victims’ names, which is more than you had before.”

“True. Now I’m wondering if I should tell Chase about the pictures.” Chase Wharton was Daniel’s CO. “If I do, he could take the Arcadia case away from me, along with any investigation of these pictures. I really want to solve both of these cases. I need to.”

“It’s atonement,” Luke murmured and Daniel nodded.

“Yes.”

Luke lifted a brow. “You’re assuming no one was ever arrested for Alicia’s murder.”

Daniel straightened abruptly. “Can you check?”

Luke was already typing into the laptop. “Police arrested Gary Fulmore a few hours after they found Alicia’s body.” He typed again, his keystrokes rapid. “Gary Fulmore was found guilty of sexual assault and murder in the second degree the following January.”

“It’s January now,” Daniel said. “Coincidence?”

Luke shrugged. “That’s what you need to find out. Look, Danny, it’s pretty cut-and-dried that Simon didn’t kill that woman in Arcadia. He’s been dead himself a week.”

“And this time I watched him die myself,” Daniel said grimly. In fact, I helped. And he was glad that he had. He’d done the world a service in ensuring Simon was dead.

Luke’s eyes flickered in sympathy. “And they caught the man who murdered Alicia. Who knows, maybe this is Fulmore.” He pointed to the rapist in the picture. “And most important, you aren’t solving the murder of Alicia Tremaine. You’re solving the murder of the woman in the Arcadia ditch. If it was me, I wouldn’t mention the pictures just yet.”

Viewed logically, Luke’s argument made perfect sense. Or maybe he just needed it to. Either way, Daniel blew out a sigh that was mostly relief. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

Luke raised a brow. “For this, you owe me a lot more than one.”

Daniel looked down at Riley, who hadn’t moved a muscle the entire time. “I took your dog and saved your sex life. That’s good for one hell of a lot, Papa.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault that Denise wouldn’t live with Brandi’s dog.”

“Which Brandi only got because of you.”

“Brandi thought a detective should have a bloodhound.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Clearly Brandi’s assets were not in her brain.”

Luke grinned. “Nope. But in her defense, my apartment has a weight limit. A bloodhound would have been too big. We settled on Riley there.”

“I should have given him back to you when Denise split,” Daniel grumbled.

“Which was two years and six girlfriends ago,” Luke pointed out. “I think you’ve developed an attachment to good old Riley.”

Which of course Daniel had. “All I know is you’d better not be feeding him any more of your mama’s food or you will get him back. Then you’ll be praying that your next girlfriend likes basset hounds and that your mama likes your girlfriend.”

Luke’s revolving door of girlfriends was a constant source of angst for poor Mama Papa. Most of them she didn’t care for, but she had never given up hoping Luke would settle down with one of them and give her grandchildren.

“I’ll just remind her you haven’t had a date in years,” Luke said smugly, getting up from the sofa. “She’ll be so busy finding you a nice Greek girl that she won’t have time to worry over me.” He opened the door, then turned back, his expression serious. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Daniel. Even if you’d reported those pictures ten years ago, no one could have done anything without the evidence.”

“Thanks, man. That helps.” It really did.

“So what are you going to do next?”

“Now, I’m gonna walk Riley. Tomorrow, I’ll follow the evidence on the Arcadia homicide like normal. And I’m going to check out Alicia Tremaine, see if any of her family or friends remember anything. Who knows, it might turn up something. Tell Mama Papa thanks for the food.”

Dutton, Sunday, January 28, 11:30 p.m.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come before,” Mack murmured as he sat on the cold ground. The marble at his back was even colder. He wished he could have come here during the daytime when it was warm and sunny, but he couldn’t be seen next to her headstone. He didn’t want anyone to know he was back, because once they knew, they’d know all-and he wasn’t ready for that yet.

But he’d needed to come to her, just once. He’d owed her so much more than he’d given her. It was his greatest regret. He’d failed her in nearly every way. And she’d died, without him by her side. It was his greatest fury.

The last time he’d stood here had been under a blazing summer sun, three and a half years ago. He’d worn shackles and a suit that didn’t fit. They hadn’t let him out to sit at her deathbed, but they had allowed him one afternoon for her funeral.

“One fucking afternoon,” he said quietly. “Too damn late.”

He’d had everything stolen from him-his home, his family’s business, his freedom, and finally his mother-and all he’d been allowed was one fucking afternoon, too damn late to do anything but simmer in his rage and vow his retribution.

Across his mother’s grave his sister-in-law had stood crying, holding one of her little boys by the hand and the other on her hip. His jaw clenched just at the thought of Annette. She’d cared for his mother in her final days while he’d been locked up like an animal, and for that he’d always be beholden. But for years his brother Jared’s wife had harbored a secret that should have been the ruin of those who’d ruined their family. For years Annette had known the truth, but she’d never said a word.