Page 172 of The Woman Left Behind

She smiled fully at him and walked out.

Harry engaged his phone and made a call.

Jess answered after one ring. “We’re on it.”

“Abernathy?” Harry asked.

Polly appeared in his door.

He shook his head at her.

“Yeah,” Jess answered.

“You got anything?” Harry queried, watching Polly walk to his desk to grab a pen and a Post-it pad.

“Nothing so far,” Jess informed him. “But we’re looking. We get anything to feed to you, we’ll do it.”

Polly stuck the Post-it on his desk phone, and it said Line 1 ASAP.

She then turned and walked out.

“Thanks, Jess,” Harry said. “I’ve got another call. If we get anything, you’ll get it. You might hear from me, Rus, Karen or Sean.”

“Got it.”

Harry lowered his voice. “I want him run to ground, Jess.”

“You’re heard, Harry. We’re on it. Later, brother.”

“Later, Jess.”

Harry dropped his phone on his desk, pulled off the Post-it, picked up the receiver of his landline and hit line one.

“Harry Moran,” he answered.

“Sheriff Moran, this is Special Agent Leticia Sanford, Seattle Bureau, FBI.”

Harry felt his brow crease. “What can I do for you, Special Agent Sanford?”

“Got word you were looking for John Berringer, aka Paul Masterson, aka Lucas Harmon, birth name William Anthony Zowkower.”

Harry sat down and focused fully on the call.

“Yeah, I am,” he confirmed. “We have three arrest warrants waiting for his return home.”

“Well, I got three women, two in Seattle, one in Vancouver, who have reported he married them under a false identity, perpetuating the long con, that being him muddling their heads with his dubious charms, after which he robbed them of everything he could lay his hands on. When they were cleaned out, or they got fed up, he vanished. Had no clue who this guy was, until the woman in Vancouver reported her missing, deadbeat husband who also happened to steal a bunch of stuff from her, your office’s preceding and subsequent inquiries about Zowkower, and us putting two and two together and coming up with grift, larceny, identity theft and bigamy.”

Jesus Christ.

So that was what Willie had been up to.

“I’m going to need to punt you to my investigator, Sanford,” Harry told her. “I’m in a relationship with Zowkower’s ex-wife.”

“Interesting,” she muttered.

“Lillian kicked him out fifteen years ago,” he stated stiffly. “After he read the writing on the wall he wasn’t getting back in, she hasn’t spoken to him in all that time. And bigamy would be off the table if the man just let her divorce him way back when she initiated those proceedings.”

“Didn’t mean anything, sheriff. A small town is a small town.”

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