Keith Morrison

County Homicide Detective Richard Longshore was sound asleep and two counties away when he got the call.

You're waking up in the middle of the night, you're rolling out, you're thinking from the minute the phone rings as to what kind of scene it's going to be.

Actually look forward to it.

That's the adrenaline rush.

It's a new case.

Longshore was a pro's pro.

18 years at L.A.

County Homicide, so sure, his adrenaline surged in that old familiar way as he roared up the 405.

But what did he know?

It wasn't going to be adrenaline that would crack this one.

It takes a lot of confidence, a certain amount of ego to work these cases.

There are cases that you will take home with you at night, and that will last until the end of your life.

This is a story about a family, about a mother's premonition.

It's a story about circumstantial evidence, as tricky to read as a mirage on the high desert.

It's about accounts that might be fact and might be fiction and seem to shift like sand in a desert wind.

Why was an innocent young woman shot to death in a guarded suburban parking lot?

What happened to Michelle O'Keefe in her final moments?

And who did it?

In the hard world where spirits do not roam, there would be no preparing for the wild gyrations to come.

Things that were as true as can be and then maybe not true at all.