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Rising from the ditch in the downpour, the woman’s spectral figure vanished in a heartbeat.

But the image remained, seared in Luke’s conscience.

He contended with it at his desk in the patrol room while finishing reports at the end of his shift. For in the days after copying the few seconds of construction site security video, he’d replayed it secretly on his phone, staring in disbelief at the evidence that blew away all doubt as reality came crashing down.

I struck a woman with my car and left the scene.

I didn’t imagine it. I’m not losing my mind.

He was holding the horrible truth in his hands.

Oh, God, I should’ve reported it that night, called dispatch, turned myself in. But this is not about me. Not anymore. It’s about the woman. She’s real. And I’ve got to be sure she’s okay.

Luke thought of scenarios.

Had someone helped her? Had she fallen injured into the brush? Without help, she’d be dead after all this time, making him guilty of a serious crime. How could he face Carrie, Vern, Emily, himself, with the shame he’d bring on his family? He’d lose everything.

I’ll go to prison.

So why was he sitting there? He should report what happened, request a full grid search of the area. Call in canine units, drones, helicopters, whatever it took. But what if after he drew all this attention, they didn’t find anything? They’d label him unstable, and, taken with his history in LA, they’d deem him unfit for duty.

No matter what I do, I’m finished. No, I’ll do this myself.

He couldn’t let go of the desperate belief he could fix this.

Yes, there was his public admission to being on the road and striking something. His vehicle was damaged. There was the fragment of fabric he’d found and discarded. There was the video.

But no victim had been found.

Maybe she was helped. Maybe she survived. It’s been so long since I left the scene. Anything could’ve happened. He had to continue investigating.

I’ll see it through and get answers. Then I’ll surrender to face my fate.

His thoughts spun as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. God, I hope she’s okay. He resumed digging, looking at an avenue he should’ve tried earlier, his keyboard and mouse clicking. The department’s page for missing persons opened.

First, the scarred face of a white male stared out, age fifty-nine, missing for fifteen years. No, can’t be a male.

Next, another white male. No.

He scrolled down to another male. No.

Next, the pretty face of a Hispanic female teen from the county. Missing for thirty-five years now, last seen in Austin. After considering this case, Luke didn’t think it fit and scrolled on.

Next, he came to the case of a white woman, aged twenty-eight, missing from the county now for ten years, making her thirty-eight. She was last seen in El Paso. She’d called her father in Clear River to say she’d met a man named Bobby, and was never heard from or seen again.

Luke wasn’t sure this one fit either.

The remaining cases were males. The page only held a handful of missing person files for the county. He could try the Texas Department of Public Safety page for the whole state, or search nationally. The possibilities were infinite, he was thinking when a shadow fell over his monitor.

“What’re you up to, there, Luke?”

Clay Smith was standing behind him, reading over his shoulder.

“Just looking at old cases.”

Clay moved around Luke’s desk to his own, letting a few seconds pass while examining Luke. “Why?”

Luke closed the pages on his screen. “Thought I’d familiarize myself with them.”

Clay looked at him, as if searching for deception.

“Something wrong with me doing that?” Luke asked.

“I’m just curious about your interest in missing person cases. They’re cold and we got detectives for that,” Clay said.

“Like I said, to be familiar.”

“Right,” Garth Reeger scoffed from his desk. “I’ll tell you why, Clay. Mr. LAPD there wants to stick his fingers into everything. That’s why he was poking into my stolen property case while I was gone.”

“I wasn’t poking into your case, Garth. Dispatch sent me.”

“Sure, Mr. Fortunate-Son-in-Law.”

“You know,” Luke said, “there is a possible way to solve your theft case.”

“Did I ask for your help?”

“Just saying, there’s something you could try, Garth.”

“You fixin’ to make me look bad?”

“Hey, Reeger, back off,” Clay said. “Dispatch sent Luke over while you were in Austin. Just handle your business.”

“Is there a problem here?”

All eyes went to the front of the patrol room where Sheriff Ellerd had been watching them.

“No,” Clay said. “We’re all good here.”

Ellerd was scanning his deputies, quelling the tension, when Irene from the front desk emerged.

“Sheriff, we got Will Young at the DA’s Office on hold. Says it’s urgent he talk to you.”

“I’ll take it.”

Ellerd went to his office, closed the door and picked up his phone. Through the glass window, Luke and the others saw Ellerd say a few words before his expression became grave.

***

Ellerd was still on his call with the district attorney when Luke left the office.

Walking across the parking lot, Luke wondered if the call was about him, if his hit-and-run had been discovered.

You’re being paranoid—the call could be about a thousand other things.

But Luke’s guilt overwhelmed him. The video had changed everything. It proved his crime.

Looking at his SUV, he considered the unrepaired damage. It was a small amount, but now it screamed at him, like a telltale admission. Maybe, on a subconscious level, he didn’t want to repair it until he resolved the incident.

It was a sunny afternoon as he drove home.

But rolling along River Road near Fawn Ridge, images came back to him, and he saw the woman’s face as she streaked over his windshield.

It was real.

Just like LA.

***

The house was quiet when he entered.

He saw Emily’s door was closed—an indication Carrie had put her down for a nap. Luke walked through the house, looking for Carrie, eventually finding her outside in a chair on their backyard deck. A closed book on her lap, she seemed deep in thought.

“Hey. How was your day?” he asked.

“I’m thinking that maybe moving here was a mistake.”

“Why?” He sat in the chair across from her. “What happened today?”

“I went to the school to see an old friend and some memories came back.”

“What sort of memories?”

“Bad ones.”

“Well, Anna said this would happen with the move. And a lot has happened. Maybe if you talked to me, or her, about it, it might help?”

“Not now, maybe later.” She shifted in her chair, changing the subject. “How was your day?”

“My day?” He looked off, shrugging with something behind his eyes. “Just fine. I’m a little beat.”

“I haven’t started supper. What do you want?”

“Maybe we can go out after the baby wakes up?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll get cleaned up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Carrie nodded.

In the bathroom, Luke looked in the mirror and realized that he and Carrie were each adrift. Both haunted by their tragedies.

It was coming back to him again. He saw the woman’s face blurring over his windshield.

I’ve got to find her. She has to be okay.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the sides of the sink, staring at himself.

I cannot have the death of another woman on my hands.