a number of people who knew Pastor when he was the minister at the church in L.A. The one he embezzled from and defrauded.” The one he’d fled to hide in Eden to escape a criminal investigation. “Those people told us what we already knew—Pastor was a sociopath who could charm the bark from a tree. We have the rifle that Belmont used last month. We’ve pulled prints, but they don’t match anything in the system. Other than that, we haven’t had any new leads. Raeburn’s had me working on a few other projects until we do.”
Which was a waste of valuable time. But if they had no leads . . . Tom knew all they could do was wait for a break, but he hated it.
Molina examined the board. “What is the significance of the key?”
Tom glanced at the photo of a key bearing the GM logo. “It was in Ephraim’s pocket when he was killed. It’s old and didn’t belong to any of the vehicles that Ephraim stole last month.” Of which there’d been quite a few. “That’s all I know.”
“All right, then.” She rose abruptly. “Let’s go to my morning meeting.”
Exiting his office, they walked in silence until she said, “How is Miss Barkley?”
Surprised, Tom almost stumbled. He smoothed his gait and his voice. “She’s doing well.”
Liza Barkley was indeed doing well. Deep irritation blossomed within him at just how well his best friend was doing. The memory of her arriving home way too late the night before grated. She’d been holding the hand of the ass who’d believed that paying for her dinner entitled him to a whole lot more.
She’d called him Mike. Mike had been too familiar, too handsy. It had taken nearly all of Tom’s self-control not to throttle him when he’d groped Liza’s butt like she was some kind of . . .
He had to take a deep breath, conscious of Molina watching him.
Liza hadn’t objected, though, so he’d remained silent. At least Mike hadn’t stayed long enough to do anything more than groping. Because, yes, Tom had stood at the window watching until the man drove away.
“I’m glad,” Molina said. “I enjoyed her visits.”
Tom stared down at his boss, and she had to crane her neck to look up. In heels, Liza could look him in the eye comfortably.
And he wasn’t sure why he thought about that now. “Liza Barkley? My Liza Barkley?”
Except she wasn’t his. She was Mike’s.
Molina looked amused. “Tall? Long auburn hair that she wears in a Heidi braid? About five-ten, but likes heels? Always smiling? She’s your Liza Barkley, is she not?”
Yes, she always smiled. Yes, she wore her hair up in a braid, a habit she’d picked up during her years in the army. He preferred her hair down, but his preferences didn’t count. Because she wasn’t his. “Liza visited you?”
“Both in the hospital and after I went home. She brought me crime thrillers and lasagna and homemade caramel brownies. She even did my laundry a few times. I appreciated her kindness.”
“I didn’t know,” Tom murmured. Because Liza hadn’t mentioned it. His best friend hadn’t mentioned a lot of things lately. She’d been steadily pulling away from him for the last month and he didn’t like it one bit.
Molina frowned. “I figured you’d asked her to come.”
“No. I didn’t.” He recovered his composure and cleared his expression, because they were nearly at the meeting room. “She’s good at caregiving. She’s going to make an amazing nurse.”
“She told me that she’s starting nursing school in July. UC Davis is one of the best nursing schools in the country.”
“Yes, it is.” He’d been stunned when he’d learned that she was headed to Sacramento. She’d told him about her acceptance to UC Davis at his parents’ house over Christmas dinner six months ago, having just arrived back from Afghanistan. He’d been working up the nerve to tell his mother that he’d been posted to the Sacramento field office, knowing she’d be disappointed. His mother had been so hopeful that he’d get assigned to Chicago so they could live in the same city again. That Liza would be joining him in Sacramento had taken some of the sting out of the announcement.
He’d been happy. As happy as he’d been able to get, anyway. He’d still been numb with grief over Tory, and seeing Liza had . . . he wasn’t sure, but it had been like a kick in the gut. He’d been so glad to see her, but sad at