by Rose, Karen
Farrah squeezed her hand. ‘You’ll be fine. And if she doesn’t talk to you, we’re no worse off than we were before.’
It was what Mercy had been telling herself, but now that they were in the nursing home parking lot, she wasn’t so sure.
She gave Rory an absent pet. ‘I wish I could take you with me,’ she murmured.
‘Go ahead and take him,’ André offered from the front passenger seat. ‘Tell the staff that he’s a comfort cat. Or at least that he comforts you. I’m sure they’d buy that this is a stressful visit for you.’
She looked up, amused. ‘I don’t think he’d go for a baby sling like Daisy wears to carry Brutus.’
‘Then take him in the carrier.’ Rafe picked it up from the floor and opened the latch. ‘If anyone hassles you, tell them that the cat was the old lady’s and you brought him to visit.’
‘It’s not a bad idea,’ Liza said. ‘Animals are often used in therapy with seniors, and this facility allows pets if they’re supervised. I checked their website while we were on the road. I say go for it.’
‘Does the cat get a wire?’ Farrah asked with a smile. ‘Because if so, it needs to be a magical medallion.’
‘If the cat gets a wire, then I definitely should have one,’ Liza said cheerfully. ‘I think it’s only fair.’
That Liza would be accompanying Mercy had been news to everyone – and neither Gideon nor Rafe had taken it well, but Mercy saw the wisdom. Liza worked with dementia patients every day. If anything went sideways, hopefully Liza could pull the conversation back on course.
If there was any conversation to be had. The FBI had sent nurses in to talk to Mrs Franklin on three different occasions in the six weeks since they’d discovered Ephraim’s true identity, but the woman had refused to talk to any of them. Mercy hoped the photo in her locket would be enough to spur the woman into talking with her.
Tom chuckled. ‘The cat does not get a wire, but you do, Liza.’ From his pocket, he drew a chain from which a pendant dangled. ‘Also a camera, video and audio. I can toggle whose feed I’m watching at any given time. And you’ll both wear earpieces, so I can communicate with you if needed. They’re small and not visible unless someone sticks a scope in your ear. Which better not happen.’
‘No scopes,’ Liza repeated obediently. ‘Is that a dragon camera? Because . . . cool.’
Mercy was aware that Liza was keeping it light on purpose, and she appreciated it.
Tom made a face. ‘I’m glad at least one person here isn’t mad at me.’
‘I’m not mad,’ Mercy said soberly. ‘I’m just nervous. I have to remember to call him Harry, not Ephraim. And his brother is Aubrey, not Edward. What if Ephraim or DJ or even Pastor has an inside person in the home? I don’t want to trip any alarms. The FBI has kept Eden out of the press until now. What if this brings it all to light and Molina loses the element of surprise? What if Ephraim feels cornered and . . .’
Rafe slid his hand around the back of her neck and pressed his lips to her temple. ‘Stop. Stop borrowing trouble. You’ll do your best. If we get nothing, then we’ll regroup and come at it from a different angle. Finding Ephraim Burton does not rest entirely on your shoulders, Mercy.’
Gideon sighed. ‘He’s right. You have to let us take some of the responsibility. And Molina’s prepared for whatever we do or do not find. But I doubt you talking to Mrs Franklin will expose Eden. It’s not like anyone in the nursing home would know that her son’s connected to a cult.’
Tom handed the butterfly lapel pin to Rafe. ‘Put it on her, please? And pass this back to Liza? I need to run a quick test.’ He waited until both Mercy and Liza wore their wires. ‘Fine, talk among yourselves.’
‘About what?’ Mercy asked. ‘Like “testing, one, two, three”?’
‘How about we go over a few pointers about talking to patients with dementia?’ Liza asked. She leaned over the seat, between Farrah and Mercy, her dragon pendant swinging a little before settling against her skin. ‘First of all, call her by her name. Mrs Franklin or Belinda. Speak to her just as you would anyone else, but when she talks, you listen. She might not be able to communicate the way she wants to, and it might frustrate her. Let her speak and give her time and space to choose her words.’
‘So don’t finish her sentences,’ Mercy said quietly.
Liza nodded. ‘Exactly. I’ll be there with you, and I’ll step in to redirect if I need to, or if you look like you need a second to think, okay?’
Mercy was grateful. ‘Yes, that’s wonderful. I know that I’m Miriam.’ That was the name inscribed on the locket, because that had been her given name in Eden. Fortunately there had been a lot of Miriams, so they’d allowed nicknames, like Midge or Mimi. Her own name had been an acceptable alternative. ‘But who will you be?’
‘I’m Beth, your friend,’ Liza said. ‘If she asks how we met, tell her it was in school. I’d be surprised if she pushes for more info, but if she does, I’ll distract her.’
Farrah squeezed her hand again. ‘You’ll be wonderful, Mercy.’
Mercy just wanted it to be over. But it wouldn’t be over until it got started. She straightened her shoulders and guided Rory into the cat carrier. ‘I’m ready. Let’s do this.’
When Mercy, Rafe, and Liza had exited the van, Tom turned to André. ‘You should sit in the SUV with Agent Schumacher. She’s keeping watch over the vehicles and will get you to safety if it becomes necessary.’
André patted the holster at his hip. Luckily, it was his left arm that Ephraim had stabbed, because he was right-handed. He might have still been in some pain, but he could still use his weapon. ‘I’ll also be keeping watch. But I am curious about something. Isn’t she senior to you? Why isn’t she going in with them?’
Mercy stilled, waiting for his answer, because she’d wondered the same thing.
Tom gave Gideon and Rafe a rueful look. ‘She is senior, but my boss thinks that I have a good relationship with these guys and have a better chance of keeping them in line.’
Rafe snorted. ‘Seriously?’
But Gideon just shook his head. ‘It’s fair,’ he admitted. ‘Thanks, Tom. I have a feeling you helped grease the skids with Molina, or we wouldn’t even be here with Mercy.’
Mercy could see the hint of heat in Tom’s cheeks. ‘Thank you, Tom,’ she said quietly.
Tom looked embarrassed. ‘Your brother’s helped mentor me these past months and Rafe’s mom gave me cake. It was the least I could do.’ He gave a final check to the cameras Mercy and Liza wore. ‘It’s showtime.’
Santa Rosa, California
Tuesday, 18 April, 1.45 P.M.
Rafe, Gideon, and Hunter didn’t end up sitting in the lobby but were shown to an office instead. Which was a bit of a relief, because no one had seen them come in except for the woman behind the front desk, who was not the same woman Rafe had seen when he’d been here before.
The woman who’d met them at the front door now closed the office door behind them and smoothed her nurse’s scrubs, briefly revealing the outline of a holster. ‘Agent Hunter, Agent Reynolds, it’s nice to meet you. Agent Molina speaks highly of you both.’
Hunter shook her hand. ‘Thank you and likewise. You’re Agent Simpson?’
‘I am. The management here has been very cooperative. They’ve allowed us to use this office while you’re here. Please have a seat, gentlemen.’
‘Thank you,’ Gideon said quietly as the three of them sat in the chairs in front of the large desk. He was pale and fidgety, and Rafe would have been glad that they didn’t have to sit in a waiting room for that reason alone.
Gideon might have been decent at undercover work, but only if he wasn’t related to someone involved. Rafe was having a similar problem. He hadn’t lied to Mercy when he said he wouldn’t miss the next time he got Ephraim Burton in his sights. The motherfucker was going down.
‘Detective Sokolov?’
Rafe turned to Hunter, who had a concerned look on his face. ‘Yes, Agent Hunter?’
‘I was attempting to introduce you to Agent Simpson. She’s the lead on this operation today.’
Rafe shook her hand. ‘Thank you for not making us sit in the lobby.’
Simpson gave him a smile that managed to be both sharp and sympathetic. ‘This is not the optimal situation, Detective. If I had my way, you’d all be outside in the van, but Agent Hunter convinced his supervisor that you’d conduct yourselves professionally. This office is my best compromise. You’ll be able to monitor what’s happening in the patient’s room via the wire feed. In exchange, I need your word that you will stay in this room. The woman managing the front desk is also one of ours, as is one of the nursing aides in the room next to Mrs Franklin’s.’
More than a little annoyed, Rafe wanted to snarl at her, but he controlled himself. A glance at Gideon showed his best friend in a similar mood. Rafe gave him a nod. ‘Mercy will be all right, Gid.’
‘Of course she will,’ Simpson said briskly. ‘There’s coffee in the pot and bottled water in the mini fridge. Please help yourselves, gentlemen.’ She took the seat behind the desk and folded her hands. ‘We have made progress on tracking the payments for Mrs Franklin’s care. The funds come from a bank here in Santa Rosa. The name on the account is Eustace Carmelo.’
‘The name on the ID that Burton used to board the flight to New Orleans,’ Rafe said quietly. ‘The names are those of two of his sons. Mercy said that Pastor gave Burton the ID and that Burton was unhappy about it. Something about the names meaning “fruitful”.’
Simpson considered this. ‘Well, at least they’re consistent. The funds transferred into the account come from a company called Frutuoso. That’s Portuguese for “fruitful”. The business has an agricultural classification. Its main products are olive oil and pomegranate juice.’
Gideon huffed. ‘Olives and pomegranates? Really?’
‘I’m missing something,’ Hunter said. ‘Explain?’
‘The olive tree is part of Eden’s symbol,’ Gideon said. ‘It’s thought by some religious scholars to have been the Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden. Eden taught this to us as children. They also taught us that the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge – the forbidden fruit that Adam and Eve ate – was a pomegranate, but the original texts never specify the kind of fruit. The Hebrew just says “pri”, which simply means “fruit”. Pomegranates are still a popular theory among Jewish scholars, although I’m pretty sure that Eden’s founders were neither religious scholars nor linguists.’
‘Which you are,’ Simpson said. ‘A linguist, I mean. Molina said you’re part of the chatter unit.’
‘That’s what I do,’ Gideon confirmed. ‘It’s predominantly drug gang chatter these days. At any rate, that they’d list olive oil and pomegranate juice as their products is at least suggestive of a tie to Eden. Where does Frutuoso’s money come from?’
‘That’s what we’re still trying to figure out,’ Simpson admitted. ‘It appears to be coming from offshore accounts, so that makes it harder to track.’
Hunter held up his hand. ‘They’re in.’ He turned up the volume on his phone and Rafe and Gideon crowded around to see his screen.
‘That’s Mrs Franklin,’ Simpson said softly, indicating the elderly woman sitting in a chair by the window. ‘She’s seventy-six years old. The doctor here on staff thinks she is capable of speaking far more than she does, but her personal doctor doesn’t agree. If he knew Miss Callahan was here, he’d probably object, but we don’t legally have to inform him.’
‘Hi, Belinda,’ a woman’s voice said cheerfully. ‘I brought you some visitors.’
‘That’s the nurse’s aide assigned to Belinda Franklin,’ Simpson supplied. ‘She’s not ours, but she passes all of our background checks. No indication of being on the take.’
So the FBI also thought that Eden might have someone embedded here, Rafe thought. Mercy had been right to worry about that.
‘Go away,’ Belinda said flatly but clearly.
The picture jumped a bit, then lowered. Mercy had pulled up a chair. ‘Hi, Mrs Franklin,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll go in a minute, but I was hoping you could help me. My name is Miriam. I’m married to your son Harry.’
Rafe could hear Gideon grinding his teeth. Rafe, on the other hand, was clenching his.
‘She is not nor has she ever been married to that bastard,’ Gideon growled.
Rafe reached over to grip Gideon’s knee. ‘She’s doing okay, Gid. Let her do this, okay? She needs to try.’
Gideon nodded, but his throat worked convulsively as he tried to swallow.
Rafe had thought about how hard this would be for Mercy, but he hadn’t considered the impact on Gideon. I should have. He moved his hand to the back of Gideon’s neck, holding on tight. Anchoring his best friend the best way he knew how.
Belinda Franklin turned to look at Mercy, her movements slow and so deliberate that a shiver raced down Rafe’s spine. The old woman’s eyes were as flat as her voice. Lifeless. His instincts screamed at him to get Mercy out of there, but he stayed where he was and watched his woman at work.
His woman. Yes. Mine.
‘You lie,’ Belinda said with quiet viciousness.
‘No, I don’t. I can prove it to you.’ The picture jumped again, and then Mercy was holding the box in which she kept her locket. She opened it, dangling the locket in front of Belinda’s face, like a hypnotist. ‘Your son gave this to me the day that we were married.’
Rafe exhaled carefully. The chain from which the locket dangled wasn’t delicate or pretty. It was thick, like one used to lock up bicycles. Or women. All of the women in Eden wore lockets like these. The chains were welded together, so that the women could never take them off.
‘You lie,’ Belinda repeated, but her dead gaze was fixed on the swinging locket.
‘No, I don’t,’ Mercy repeated. Holding the locket in her palm, she pressed the locket’s engraved symbol so quickly that Rafe wouldn’t have known what she was doing if he hadn’t seen another locket opened the same way. The other one had belonged to Eileen, who’d also escaped Eden and Ephraim, only to die later.
Mercy held the open locket up so that the camera on her lapel caught the image of the photo inside. ‘This is Harry and me. This was our wedding day.’
Gideon made a pained sound and looked away.
Rafe made himself look, though. He owed this much to Mercy. If he wanted to share her life, he needed to share this pain. Because he was certain that Mercy didn’t need to look at the photo to remember. The images of her wedding to Ephraim were indelibly stamped in her memory.
God, she was young. So young. Only twelve, her face still round and sweet and childish. But her eyes were haunted. Terrified. And even though the photo was grainy and small, he could tell that she’d been crying before it had been taken.
Ephraim, on the other hand, was smiling triumphantly. He wore the same eye patch that he’d worn in his wedding photo with Eileen, but the eye that was visible gleamed with malicious delight.
Then the image blurred and Rafe blinked. And realized he was crying.
Oh God, Mercy. I’m so sorry he hurt you.
A box of tissues came sliding across the desk. Rafe gave Agent Simpson a grateful nod.
None of them said a word, because Mercy was speaking.
‘This is your son, isn’t he?’ she asked. ‘I hope so, because you’re my last hope. I need to find him. He’s been missing for a month now, and I’m worried sick. I can’t sleep or eat or . . .’
Belinda Franklin reached for the locket. ‘My son,’ she said thickly.
‘Yes. Your son.’
‘You’re his wife.’
‘Yes. I am.’
Belinda looked away from Mercy’s camer
a. ‘Who’s she?’
‘That’s Beth, one of my friends. She’s helping me find Harry. Like I said, I’ve been worried sick. I haven’t slept in weeks and she didn’t think I was safe to drive. She’s been nice enough to help me search. She found you here. We . . . we went to your old house, but it was sold.’
Hunter turned to them. ‘How did she know that?’
Rafe met his gaze directly. ‘From me. I’ve been working the case on my own.’
Hunter’s lips quirked up. ‘Of course you have. Wouldn’t have expected anything different.’
Belinda looked down at Mercy’s feet, drawing their attention back to the phone screen. ‘And that?’
‘That’s Rory,’ Mercy said, and there was a smile in her voice. ‘My cat. Harry gave him to me. Rory’s a comfort to me, especially with Harry gone missing. Beth thought I should bring him, just in case you can’t help me find him. I’m . . . well, I’m at the end of my rope.’
Belinda nodded once, then turned to stare out the window. ‘I don’t know where he is.’
‘Oh.’ Mercy blew out a breath, and then the picture moved again, settling out as she lifted the cat from his carrier and onto her lap. ‘I was afraid of that.’
A few beats of silence passed, and then Liza spoke up, off camera. ‘It must have been hard to leave your house behind. It looked like a real nice place. But this is really nice, too. I love your view. Harry said that you seemed happy here. That he takes you for walks when he visits you.’
‘What’s she saying?’ Gideon asked harshly.
‘There’s a picture of Mrs Franklin in a wheelchair sitting next to one of the benches outside,’ Simpson said, a smile playing on her lips. ‘There’s a man on the bench. You can’t see the man’s face, but he has his arm around her shoulders. It’s a good guess. Hunter, your lady friend is on the ball.’
‘Yes, she is,’ Hunter murmured.
‘He’s a good boy,’ Belinda said sullenly. ‘When he visits.’