InSight

asked. The dispatcher said man.
    Luke checked the time. “She doesn’t do this, Pete. Something’s happened.”
    Pete told Luke about the incident in the car with Lucy.
    “Why didn’t you tell me?” Luke hoped he kept the annoyance from his voice, but he knew he didn’t.
    “This is the first time I’ve seen you in days.”
    “I know. Sorry.” He patted his friend on his shoulder. “What the hell’s going on?” When Luke lost his focus, his lip-reading suffered. Everything got jumbled. Pete said something, but Luke couldn’t read him and asked for a repeat.
    “If I knew, I’d lock up the son of a bitch and toss the key,” Pete said. “Could Abby have stopped by her mother’s?”
    “Maybe Or maybe she doesn’t want to see me and planned this.” He hoped that wasn’t the case, but he’d understand if it was. “Otherwise, she would have answered. Lucy lives in Hillbrook . Can’t hurt to drive over.” Luke checked his phone, but he knew she hadn’t responded. He would have felt the vibration. He pulled out of the driveway. Pete followed.
    Lucy Gallant answered the door wearing a flowing black silk caftan cut low enough to reveal ample cleavage. Half a dozen strands of chunky turquoise and jade beads adorned her neck and dangling jade hung from her ears. Meyer Goldman sat on the sofa with a glass of iced tea. A faint aroma of garlic lingered in the air.
    Luke quickly scanned the room. “I hope we’re not interrupting dinner.”
    “No, no, we eat late. Come in.” Lucy ushered them inside. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
    Luke had never been to Lucy’s house. Flamboyant art adorned the red walls and color exploded like an artist’s palette— golds , lime greens, and oranges. White sofas played off a mixture of contemporary and antique furniture. The effect mirrored Lucy’s warm, friendly personality.
    Luke introduced Pete. “Sorry to intrude, Lucy, but Abby should have been home two hours ago and she hasn’t shown up. We thought she might have stopped here.”
    Lucy tucked a wayward strand of curly hair into her topknot. “No, I haven’t heard from her all day. You’re sure she didn’t have to stay late for an appointment?”
    “I went to her office and her house. She called the taxi at three for a four o’clock pickup. A man canceled it at three-thirty.”
    “A man?” Lucy paled. “What man?”
    “That’s what I wanted to ask you.” Luke swallowed the next question, but he had to ask. “Is there someone besides me, Lucy? Someone else she’s seeing?”
    “No, you’re the only one Abigael has been with in eight years.” Lucy’s face paled, and when she reached for her hair again, her hand shook. She sat on the sofa next to Meyer, who glanced at Luke when he noticed Lucy’s concern. “Do you think something’s happened to her?”
    “This isn’t like her, is it?” Luke moved forward to see Lucy’s answer.
    “No, it isn’t.” Then under her breath, she said, “Oh God, no, it couldn’t be.”
    Luke stole a glance at Pete and noticed his knitted brow. “What did she say?” when Pete didn’t answer, he turned back to Lucy. “What aren’t you telling us?”
    Lucy stared straight ahead, trancelike.
    “What, Lucy?” Luke prompted. He shifted his focus from Lucy to Pete, then back to Lucy. “You need to tell us.”
    Avoiding everyone’s eyes, she said, “I did what I thought best to protect her.”
    “What are you talking about, Mrs. Gallant?” Pete asked.
    “They couldn’t have let him out.” She turned her attention to Luke. “They couldn’t.”
    Luke sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing her. Abby’s disappearance had distracted him. Grasping the conversation as it bounced back and forth was like watching a tennis match. He forced himself to concentrate, knowing he needed to see Lucy’s words, but afraid of what they might be.
    “Look at me, Lucy. Look at me .” He put his hands on Lucy’s shoulders and turned her toward him, urging her to meet his gaze. “Did you say they couldn’t have let him out? Who are you talking about?”
    “Stewart Gentry.”
    Pete’s stunned face confirmed what Luke thought he saw. “But Stewart Gentry is dead. That’s what Abby told me.”
    Lucy’s eyes opened wide, her brows arched. “He should be, but he isn’t.”
    The remnants of Luke’s lunch ignited like a fireball in his stomach. Words stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to ask the question, because he didn’t want to know the answer. He