Ramsey came up behind Melina. “Time to move along, Ms. Guthrie. You’re out on bail, and I can have that rescinded with a phone call.”

Bonnie hesitated. She was a woman accustomed to pushing her luck and dancing on the line separating freedom and jail. “I’m not breaking any laws.”

“Try trespassing,” Melina said.

Bonnie looked around. “I don’t see any signs, but I’m a reasonable person. I don’t see why you have to be so nasty.”

“You haven’t seen how nasty I can be,” Melina said.

Bonnie’s grin faded and her features hardened. Before she could respond, the front door opened. Her mother’s silhouette appeared behind the screen. There was no sign of Elena.

The gift bag dangled from Bonnie’s fingers as she sauntered across the lawn toward her car. “I came to do a good deed and check on the child. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

“Don’t come back,” Melina said.

“I love Elena. I loved you, Mellie.”

The nickname sent a quake through her body as distant memories of the endearment surfaced. Bonnie had hit another nerve.

“Bonnie loves Mellie Bellie,” Bonnie said in a singsong voice. “I sang that as I rocked you in my arms,” she said, eyeing Melina closely. “You remember me calling you Mellie, don’t you?”

Melina’s shoulders grew even more rigid. “Is it supposed to make me cry or embrace a tender moment we once shared?”

“You do remember. I can tell by your face. You could always hide your feelings from others, but not from me.”

Melina shifted to offense. “What is the name Sonny is using now?”

“I don’t know what name he’s using now, baby. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”

“Elena says you met with Sonny before your accident.”

“She’s a little kid. What does she know?”

“We’ve searched Dean Guthrie and haven’t gotten a hit. He’s changed his name.”

Bonnie reached for the car’s door handle. “I don’t know where Sonny is, Mellie.”

“Who arranged for your bail?” Melina pressed. “Did Sonny arrange it?”

Bonnie opened her car door. “I can get my own bail.”

“Who called the cops from the diner after you dumped me on the side of the road?”

For a split second, Bonnie looked confused. The shift was just enough to tell Melina that she had scored a point in this round.

“I don’t know anything about a diner,” Bonnie said.

The lies rolled off her tongue so easily. “Why didn’t you go back for me?”

Bonnie didn’t speak.

Melina had a near-perfect bullshit meter and right now it was pinging loudly. “Dean called the cops, didn’t he? It had to have been traumatic as hell for a young kid to see his sibling dumped on the side of the road. If you did it to me, it was a matter of time before you ditched him. He must have felt he had to do anything and everything to keep you happy so you wouldn’t dump him.”

“I never left him,” Bonnie said.

“Sure you did. You got arrested when he was sixteen.”

“That wasn’t my fault. I told him that over and over.”

“That arrest report said you were skimming credit cards. It’s risky given your record. You must have known you’d get caught eventually and then end up doing serious prison time. He must have known that and begged you to stop.”

“You should write fiction.” Bonnie’s grin dimmed.

“I wish to God it were fiction,” Melina said.

A police cruiser pulled up just then. The officer got out and walked up toward Ramsey, who spoke to him in a low tone she could not hear. “He must have been really good at whatever crime he did for you to stay in your good graces. You taught him well.”

“You make me sound like a monster.” Bonnie looked directly into Melina’s eyes. “If it weren’t for me, you’d have rotted in foster care.”

Melina said nothing. She was a good cop, and a good cop knew when to shut up and let the suspect talk.

“Howard and I were packed and ready to go to Hawaii when we got the call that Lizzie had stuck a needle in her arm for the last time. She was DOA when the paramedics transported both of you to the hospital. Social services was circling and ready to scoop you up. Howard didn’t want you at first. Thought you were more trouble than you were worth.” She patted her chest. “But I cared. I talked him into taking you. And when Howard died, I still kept you.”

“What happened next?” Melina asked.

“You, Dean, and me hit the road. Just the three of us. I was headed to Virginia. I had friends there. I had to stop on the side of the road to pee and have a smoke. When I got back to the car, you were missing. You’d taken off. I looked for you, but I couldn’t find you. I went for help.”

She supposed if a lie was repeated often enough, it became truth over the years. Maybe Bonnie actually felt guilty about what she had done. “Where’s Sonny?” she challenged. She would repeat the question until she got an answer.

Bonnie shook her head. “You always were a difficult kid. You never accepted anything I told you. It was always a fight.”

Melina shook her head. “Are you protecting him? Because if you are, it’s a mistake. He’s not the vulnerable kid he once was. He’s been killing women who look like you for years.”

“Sonny loves me.”

Melina turned to Ramsey, looking for backup. She was swimming in lies that were so emotionally charged that she needed confirmation she was on the right track.

“Sounds like this is more about you, Bonnie, and the guilt you’re carrying,” Ramsey said.

Bonnie chuckled, her easy disposition returning. “Are you going to fight her battles for her, Mr. FBI man? I bet she’s a real firecracker in bed.”

Ramsey’s steady expression did not change.

Melina imagined the jail cell door closing in Bonnie’s face. But if she locked up Bonnie now, she could not lead them to Sonny.

“You going to tell me where Dean lives?” Ramsey said.

“Like I told Melina, I don’t know,” Bonnie said. “Cops think you can keep asking the same question over and over until you get the answer you want. I don’t know where Sonny is!”

“I’m warning you, Bonnie. Watch your step around Sonny,” Melina said. “He’s a very dangerous man.”

Bonnie got into the car and reached for the door handle. “You worried about me, Mellie?”

“You saw the pickle jar,” Melina said.

“Don’t worry about me,” Bonnie said.

Melina did not bother with any more warnings about Sonny. “Don’t come back to this house, Bonnie. Or you will be back in jail.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Bonnie closed the door and started the car.

Stone faced, Melina watched the car drive away. Only when the Ford rounded the corner did she curl her fingers into fists. The encounter had unsettled her, but she had said her piece.

Ramsey had the good sense not to ask how she was doing.

“Let me check on my mother,” she said.

“Sure,” he said.

The two walked up the front steps and Melina used her key to open the door. “All’s clear, Mom and Dad.”

Mrs. Shepard came around the corner with Elena on her hip. The little girl had coiled her legs and arms around her mother like a drowning person did a life raft.

Mr. Shepard hobbled into the kitchen. His hand was behind his back and she knew he had a weapon.

“Mom and Dad, this is Special Agent Ramsey. He’s with the FBI. We’ve been working a case together.”

“What case?” her mother asked.

“A missing persons case.” Ramsey extended his hand to both of them.

Hank Shepard’s grip was strong, and his gaze reminded Melina of a cop trying to read a homicide scene. “How’s my daughter involved?”

Ramsey didn’t appear surprised that she had not disclosed the details about the Key Killer. “Your daughter has been our local contact on the case.”

“Where are you based?” her father asked.

“FBI offices in Quantico, sir,” he said.

“Division?”

“I head up a team of agents who work cases all over the country.”

“Are you always vague with your answers?” her father asked.

A small smile tugged at Ramsey’s lips, acknowledging that Shepard had called bullshit on his answer. “You know the drill. I can’t talk about an open case.”

“I’m not asking for specifics,” Hank said. “Just generalities.”

“It doesn’t matter now, Dad,” Melina said.

“It does matter very much,” her mother said. “Agent Ramsey is here to investigate a crime with our daughter.”

Melina winked at Elena. “I can’t discuss the details, Mom.”

“We’ll see about that later,” her father said.

Her father’s eyes burned with unasked questions. Elena was the only thing standing between her and a class-five parental grilling. That would come later when the kid was out of earshot. She owed the kid another bottle of bubbles.

“Where is BB?” Elena whispered.

“She just drove away,” Melina said.

“BB doesn’t like cops,” Elena said.

“They’re not all bad, kid,” Hank said. “Melina is a cop. I was a cop.”

“Some are pretty talkative, too,” Molly said.

“Did BB drive back to jail?” Elena asked.

Six-year-old children should not have to ask questions like this. “No. She went to a motel room. But she’s not out of trouble yet,” Melina said.