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It was late as Lacey worked on invoices at her home office.

She always kept hard copies as a backup.

Her stapler clicked. Empty. Checking her drawer to refill it, she frowned. Out of staples. She walked through the house to Clay’s office. Lacey had lost track of time. Clay was in the garage, working on his cars in preparation for the upcoming swap meet in Louisiana.

Searching his desk drawer, she found a box of staples, the kind that fit all standard staplers. After loading hers, she noticed Clay’s computer monitor was open to a news story from the Los Angeles Times , with the headline: LAPD OFFICER JUSTIFIED IN USING DEADLY FORCE.

Lacey began reading the screen.

An LAPD officer will not face criminal charges in the shoot-out that killed a fleeing multiple-murder suspect…

It was an older story. Not long, with a feature that invited readers to click to:

THE DA’S REPORT CLEARING OFFICER LUKE CONWAY

On Clay’s desk, she saw a printout of the LAPD’s procedures on the use of confidential informants; a section Clay had highlighted said: The use of informants by LAPD personnel is limited to those non-uniformed personnel.

A handwritten note on the page asked: Did he kill a CI?

Near Clay’s keyboard, his tablet showed photos of an SUV with some damage to the front. Lacey was blinking at it, wondering if that was Luke’s car, when there was a diffusion of light.

“What’re you up to?”

She turned to Clay, then held up her stapler.

“Borrowed some staples.”

Clay nodded.

“What is all this?” She indicated the screen. “It’s about Luke?”

He sighed and slid into a chair, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah. Listen, Lace, this has to stay confidential. There’s likely nothing to it.”

“What is it?”

“Well, Luke’s been acting a little secretive since he got here.”

“Secretive?”

“Something happened with him a while back on River Road, in that storm. We think he hit someone and failed to report it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was off duty, coming home from the Stirrup. This is before Carrie moved back. I mean, he’s told everyone he thought he saw someone on the road, and that maybe he hit debris or a branch. His car’s damaged. But we know he quietly checked hospitals and canvassed residents.”

“And?”

“Nothing yet, but Bob’s asked me to keep an eye on him.” Clay nodded to the monitor. “He had his trouble in Los An geles. I guess Bob wants to be sure he’s okay for duty, that he’s stable.” Clay rubbed his chin, adding, “We know Luke has some PTSD issues from what happened in LA, so we just want to watch out for him, make sure he’s okay.”

Shaking her head, Lacey cupped a hand to her cheek. “Carrie’s been through so much. Now this. Oh, my God.”

He pulled her to him. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” He shook his head. “But you have to swear that what I’ve told you does not leave this house.”

She nodded.

“I need you to swear, Lacey.”

“I swear.”