“The FBI was part of the investigation in 1983,” someone toward the back called out. “Is that why you’re here now? To do damage control for the Bureau?”

“I’m here to help find out what happened back then that caused a lot of people to believe that an innocent man was guilty. And I’m here to make sure that whoever is responsible for Shannon ’s death is apprehended and punished.”

“This is a big case,” the reporter added. “How many other agents are involved in this investigation?”

Andrew hesitated briefly before answering as truthfully as he could. “For the time being, I’m the only agent assigned.”

“What about Agent Collins?” Chief Bowden asked from the side of the porch.

Andrew turned to him hoping that his response would not be picked up by the microphones. “Agent Collins isn’t officially assigned.”

Chief Bowden looked at him blankly.

“How does Senator Randall-Scott feel about her sister being a hooker?”

“I’m not going to comment on that.” Even as he spoke, he knew this same crew would be camped out in front of Natalie Randall-Scott’s home within the hour.

“Thanks for your time, everyone. As soon as we know anything else, we’ll be sure to let you all know.” Andrew cut the conference short. The pertinent information had been given. He wasn’t going to feed into speculation.

Ignoring the protests and the rush of questions that followed his announcement, Andrew stepped back inside the house, then looked behind him. Chief Bowden was leaning over the porch rail, talking to a reporter. Andrew walked over in time to hear the chief say, “Dorsey Collins, I’m pretty sure her name is…yes, she’s definitely with the FBI. Maybe she got called out to work another case, maybe that’s what he meant. Maybe he’s waiting for someone to replace her-”

“Chief,” he said pointedly from the doorway.

“I’ll be right there.”

Andrew took a deep breath and closed the door behind him. Hopefully the reporter Bowden was talking to wouldn’t make anything of his remarks. He had briefly thought of asking Bowden not to mention Dorsey’s name, but decided that would make her presence there seem more mysterious than he wanted it to be. Besides, what were the odds someone would have asked?

Apparently better than he’d suspected.

“Thank you, Agent Shields, for handling everything so delicately.” Judith met him in the hallway, tissues clenched in each hand. “For your sensitivity. We still don’t know what to think, what to believe, about Shannon. And the speculation is just going to be more than I can bear…”

Andrew patted her gently on the shoulder. “We’ll do everything we can to find the truth, Mrs. Randall, and to make certain you and your family hear it before anyone else does.”

“We appreciate that.” She dabbed at her eyes.

“Now, where might I find your husband?” Andrew asked.

“He’s back in his office, waiting for you,” she said. “The first door on the right.”

“Thank you.” Andrew started down the hall just as the police chief came back through the door.

“Agent Shields, about Agent Collins-” Bowden called to him.

“She’s not officially on the case,” Andrew told him truthfully.

“Could have fooled me.”

“She’s here as a special observer only. But that information doesn’t need to be shared.”

Andrew debated whether to offer more of an explanation, then decided against it. Maybe later. Right now, he wanted to get on with his questioning of Franklin while the man was still willing.

“Are the reporters leaving?” Andrew asked.

“Some have, some are taking their time,” Bowden told him. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

“What if they come back and start asking more questions?” Judith said. “Agent Shields said you’d arrest anyone who didn’t leave…”

“And I will, Miz Randall. But let’s give ’em a few more minutes to pack up their cameras and get themselves moving. Nobody’s answering any more questions until Agent Shields is ready to call another conference, so just don’t you worry about that.”

Andrew started off for his meeting with Randall, wishing Bowden had thought of that before he’d started answering the inquiry about Dorsey. He was hoping that cat wasn’t too far out of the bag.

At the first door on the right, he stopped and knocked lightly on the half-closed door.

“Come in, Agent Shields. And close it behind you.” Franklin Randall sat behind his desk in his wheelchair. He pointed to a dark green leather club chair and said, “Sit there.”

Andrew did as Randall requested.

“Thank you for what you said out there. They all gone yet?”

“Chief Bowden is keeping an eye on the stragglers. He’s making sure the last of them leave.”

“What is it you wanted to know that you didn’t already learn from my wife, my mother, or my daughters?” Franklin said, cutting to the chase.

“I want to know what Shannon was running away from twenty-four years ago, Mr. Randall.” Andrew could be just as blunt. “You have any thoughts on that?”

“No one’s convinced me yet that my daughter ran away. Could have been she was forced.”

“The evidence doesn’t support that.”

“But twenty-four years ago the evidence supported that she’d been murdered by that Beale kid.” Franklin snorted derisively. “Enough evidence then to support a guilty verdict and a death penalty.”

“Right now, I can’t explain how that conclusion was reached, though I do have some theories. But if you look at the facts-”

“Well, which facts are the FBI looking at this time?”

“The facts Shannon gave her roommate, Mr. Randall.”

“ Shannon told this girl she ran away to become a whore?”

“She told her roommate she ran away, yes.”

“And this girl, she’s a whore, too?”

“She’s been working as a prostitute, yes, but-”

Franklin waved his hand at Andrew as if dismissing him.

“Can’t believe anything she says, then.”

“Mr. Randall, stop playing this game with me,” Andrew said calmly. “We both know Shannon ran away and I think we both know why she left and why she never came back.”

“What are you talking about?” Franklin snapped.

“I’m talking about the fact that someone had been sexually abusing your daughter. She ran away to escape further abuse.”

Franklin ’s jaw all but dropped onto his chest.

“What? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” His face went from pale to scarlet in a heartbeat. “Who would have done such a disgusting thing?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Andrew replied levelly.

Franklin stared at Andrew for a very long moment before his eyes widened.

“You are not suggesting…you couldn’t possibly think that I…”

“Most abusers are members of the family, or someone well known to the family.” Andrew spoke firmly, calmly.

“No. No. The very thought of it”- Franklin shook his head-“No. No one would have…no.” He covered his mouth with a badly shaking hand. “Oh, God, no…not my little girl…no.”

“Mr. Randall, we’re fairly certain someone was abusing Shannon,” Andrew repeated. “If it wasn’t you, odds are it was someone close. Was there a family friend who maybe spent a lot of time with your family back then, who would have had access to your daughter?”

“No, no.” Franklin ’s arrogance was gone. In its place was a pain that Andrew could almost feel reaching out to him from across the desk. “There was no one. We did everything as a family back then; I don’t think any of us were hardly ever alone. And being so busy at the church-I spent every day there. We were an active church, you understand. There was something going on there every day.” Franklin ’s voice grew quiet as he seemed to look back in time. “There was hardly a day when I wasn’t there from morning through evening, working side by side with my father. That was his church, he started it in a small place over on Sunset. Built the new church back in 1980, mostly with donations from his congregation.”