by Karen Rose
He covered her hand with his. Her skin was cold. “We’ll find him.”
She only nodded. “How many more, Gideon?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Three more, in addition to the three we knew about this morning from the open investigation. Adding Trish and Eileen makes eight altogether.”
She shuddered out a horrified breath. “Where were they found?”
“Why?”
“Because I found three more while you were driving.”
“Through newspaper articles?”
“Through a true crime forum, actually. Conspiracy theorists are buzzing about them. I’m hoping they’re part of the eight.”
He told her the names of the cities and towns that Molina had mentioned. “Are they the ones you found?”
She nodded. “Yes, thank goodness. The victims in the articles were found in Niagara Falls; Carlisle, Pennsylvania; and Miami. It makes no sense. Big cities and small towns, all over the country. There doesn’t seem to be any pattern.”
He frowned. “There is a pattern. There has to be. We just haven’t found it yet.”
“We will,” she murmured. “We have to.”
He turned the data over in his mind. “Clearly this is someone with the means to travel. Or it’s his job.”
“A truck driver maybe?”
Gideon nodded. “It would make sense.”
She closed her laptop and turned in her seat, one hand cradling Brutus. “So this guy Danton. Your boss says he’s on the up-and-up?”
“She couldn’t find anything on him. Which doesn’t necessarily mean he’s good. You’ll still stay with me, and if I say run, you take the car and go.”
“Okay.”
He glanced at her, expecting to see her jaw hardened in opposition to his command. But she simply sat there, petting the dog. “You will?”
“You’ll be smarter about protecting yourself if you’re not worrying about me.”
“That’s true. We’re nearly there.” He swallowed hard, acknowledging the eels that were slithering through his gut. What if this guy knew nothing? Worse, what if he was really some kind of degenerate who’d taken advantage of Eileen?
Her hand closed around his arm. “If he doesn’t know where Eileen went after she got off the bus in Portland, you’ll find another way to trace her steps, okay?”
“Okay.”
MACDOEL, CALIFORNIA
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 11:45 A.M.
Gale Danton’s home was a plain, single-story structure with an oversized couch facing a big picture window that looked out onto his view of the mountains. This was where he seated the Fed and Daisy.
Which was very lucky because it meant their car was unattended.
He lugged the two jugs of bleach to the Fed’s car and pried open the gas cap cover. He had experience with this maneuver, having stopped several of his guests on the side of the road this way. Plus, bleach was a staple.
One never knew when one would have to clean up the scene of a nasty altercation. He had experience with that, too.
He thought of the one time he’d been disrupted by a guest’s angry boyfriend, just as he was forcing the woman into the trunk of his car. He’d had to shoot the man, right there in the deserted parking lot behind the restaurant where the woman had worked. There had been a lot of blood that he’d needed to clean up after disposing of the man’s body.
And the guy had been heavy! That had not been an easy evening. He’d needed to run to the all-night grocery and buy bleach to decontaminate the scene. Ever since then, he’d carried bleach with him wherever he went. Always in a laundry basket along with a box of fabric softener sheets, just in case someone asked.
It took him only a few seconds to pour the bleach into Reynolds’s gas tank, first one bottle, then the other, because he’d fitted the mouths of the jugs with vortex breakers. No swirl, no wait. It was a trick he’d picked up watching pit crews on race day.
He then slunk back down the driveway to his car and drove for fifteen minutes before stopping. He’d wait here. The Fed’s sedan wouldn’t make it more than fifteen or twenty minutes before his engine locked up.
Once that happened, he’d have nowhere to go. He’d be a sitting duck.
He checked his gun, made sure there was a bullet chambered. All set.
All he had to do was wait.
MACDOEL, CALIFORNIA
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 11:45 A.M.
“You have quite a view,” Daisy murmured, staring out Gale Danton’s big picture window at the mountains in the distance.
“Thank you.” He handed her a mug of steaming coffee. “This should warm you up.”
Daisy wrapped her hands around the mug, nearly sighing at the heat seeping into her palms. It wasn’t the weather that had her hands so cold, even though the temperatures had dropped as they’d made their way north through the mountains. It was fear, plain and simple. She was terrified that Gideon would be disappointed.
And that they’d lose the trail that connected them to Eileen’s killer.
And Trish’s. But she couldn’t let herself dwell on that right now. She could fall apart later. Right now she needed to focus on Gideon, who sat next to her on a flannel sofa, his back ramrod straight. She let her body lean into his, just enough that he remembered he wasn’t alone.
“So.” Danton sat in a chair kitty-corner to the sofa. He was a tall, thin man with a smile that seemed to cover his whole face. He’d shaken her hand and immediately declared that her hands were like blocks of ice. After which he’d leaped into host mode, leaving them alone in his living room.
He hadn’t asked for ID. Hadn’t asked them anything other than if they wanted coffee. Tilting his gray head, he studied Gideon. “How can I help you, Agent Reynolds?”
Oh, I hope you can, Daisy thought.
“Thank you for welcoming us into your home,” Gideon said a little stiffly. Because he was nervous. Because this was important. “I’m here because I’m a friend of Eileen’s.”
If Daisy had thought Danton would look surprised, she’d been wrong.
“So you’re that Gideon,” he said with a sad smile.
Gideon stared at him. “She mentioned me?”
Danton nodded. “Oh, yes. She was hoping to find you. Someday, anyway. She called you by a different last name.”
“Terrill,” Gideon murmured. “That was my mother’s husband’s last name.”
“Yes, that was it. She was aware that you’d probably changed your name. She still hoped to find you. I take it that she didn’t.”
Gideon shook his head, then swallowed audibly. “She’s missing.”
Danton abruptly frowned. “What do you mean, missing?”
“She . . .” Gideon pursed his lips and started again. “Her locket was found a few days ago. By Miss Dawson.”
Daisy looked up at him and he nodded slightly. She turned to Danton. “I was attacked Thursday night.”
“Oh my!” Danton leaned forward. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you. I was able to get away, but I grabbed at the man’s throat. I didn’t realize I was holding a locket in my hand until I was safe.”
Danton frowned again. “Eileen’s locket? No way. That chain would never break.” His expression became pained. “It was welded on her. She had a burn mark on the back of her neck.”
“She’d replaced the chain at some point,” Daisy said. “Or someone did it for her.”
Danton paled. “You suspect foul play?”
“It’s possible,” Daisy said. “The night after I was attacked, the man attacked a friend of mine.” She closed her eyes for a moment.
“Daisy’s friend was murdered sometime on Friday night,” Gideon said softly, keeping her from having to say it aloud.
She opened her eyes when Danton made a small choking sound
. His eyes had filled with tears. “Oh, Miss Dawson, I’m so very sorry. You think the same person hurt Eileen?”
“It’s possible,” Daisy said. “We hope she’s still alive.”
“But you don’t think so,” Danton murmured.
“No, sir,” Gideon told him. “We don’t. I didn’t know Eileen had gotten away from our community. I’ve been trying to find it for seventeen years.”
“Since you got out.” He wiped at his eyes unashamedly. “She wasn’t sure if you’d survived. The rumor was that you’d died. Or that you’d been exiled to the wilderness, which was the same thing.”
“Do you know where the community is?” Gideon asked, going so still that Daisy knew he was holding his breath.
“No, son, I surely don’t. I asked, but she wouldn’t tell me. She was terrified I’d make her go back.”
Gideon’s shoulders sagged, just a little. Only recognizable if one was looking. And Daisy was looking.
“Can you tell us how you met Eileen?” she asked. “All we know is that you bought her a bus ticket in Redding, for Portland.”
“I met her at the beginning of November. She was staggering along next to the road. We’d already had some snow and I barely saw her head as I went by. She’d heard me coming and was trying to hide. I only saw her because I was driving slow, searching for a lost cow. One of my pregnant ones. I stopped and Eileen was . . . so scared. And half-dead.”
Daisy held Gideon’s hand. “The man at the bus station said she was bruised,” she said. “Were there other injuries?”
Danton swallowed, then nodded. “She was bleeding.” Then he clenched his jaw.
“She had . . . female injuries,” Daisy said gently.
Danton jerked another nod. “Yeah. That. I wanted to take her to the hospital. Wanted them to do one of those kits. You know,” he said helplessly.
Daisy kept her voice gentle, both for Danton and for Gideon. “A rape kit?”
Danton nodded again, miserably. “Yeah. One of them.” He met Gideon’s pained gaze. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear this.”
“But I need to know,” Gideon said, almost soundlessly. “I’m sorry to ask you to tell it. But what did you do?”
“My daughter came over. Took care of her. She’s a vet, my daughter. Not an army vet. A veterinarian.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She told Eileen that she needed to go to the ER. The closest clinic’s in Yreka, and that’s a good hour away when the weather’s good. Eileen wouldn’t go. She was afraid that they’d call her husband. We tried to tell her that there was no way they’d do that when they saw what had been done to her, but she became hysterical, so . . .” He shrugged. “My Sammie stitched her up as best she could. By the time the man at the bus station saw her, Eileen had been with us for two weeks. She was still so hurt.” His sigh was wet, like he was holding back more tears. “Sammie stayed here with us for those two weeks, so Eileen wouldn’t feel so alone. Or afraid. She was afraid of me at first.” He looked a little ashamed at this admission.
“I hope you know that it wasn’t personal,” Daisy told him. “Not really.”
“I know. I just hated the thought that she’d be afraid of me.” He wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve. “How long has she been missing?”
“We don’t know,” Gideon said. “We were hoping you’d communicated with her after she arrived in Portland.”
“I did. But after a month she stopped calling and I didn’t get any more letters.”
“But you heard her voice? You know it was her?” Daisy asked.
“I did. She called to tell me she’d gotten a job and found a place to live. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and she felt safe. She rented a room at a boardinghouse and waited tables. Cash only. Sammie visited her once, up there in Portland. Just dropped in and surprised her.”
“How did Eileen react to that?”
“Sammie said she was upset at first. She was afraid Sammie had been followed, but my girl is smart. Sammie told Eileen to settle down, that she needed to check the stitches she’d put in, to make sure Eileen wasn’t getting an infection. She came home saying that Eileen seemed ‘okay.’ Whatever that means.”
“So your daughter knows where she lives? And works?” Gideon asked, a sliver of hope in his voice.
“She does.” Danton’s eyes narrowed. “She’ll take you there.”
“I’m not going to hurt Eileen,” Gideon protested.
“I know, son. I wouldn’t have told you had I thought you were the type. But you’re also a lawman, and I don’t want Eileen getting into trouble for anything she’s done to simply survive. So Sammie will take you.”
“I’m flying into Portland from Sacramento tomorrow,” Gideon told him. “I have to get Daisy home tonight.”
“That’s fine. Sammie can meet you at the airport.”
“Let her, Gideon,” Daisy murmured. “You’d want the same in his place.”
Gideon relaxed. “You’re right. I would. Thank you, Mr. Danton. And I’ll thank your daughter when I meet her. I’m glad Eileen had you to care for her.”
“It was kind of you to take her in,” Daisy added softly.
Another shrug. “I’m sure the bus station guy told you what I told Eileen when I dropped her off. That I was paying it forward because someone had helped my Sammie when she was a teenager and alone and a runaway. I know he was sitting behind me. I figured he was making sure Eileen wasn’t being trifled with. You know.”
“I know,” Daisy murmured, “and that’s exactly what he did say. But it was still kind of you. How did Eileen call you? Did she have a phone?”
“We bought her one, me and Sammie. One of those prepaid ones from Walmart. She and I stopped at the one in Redding before I took her to the bus station. She picked out a few necessities.”
Daisy swallowed hard. “You are very kind, Mr. Danton. We appreciate it. Gideon appreciates it.”
Gideon cleared his throat roughly. “I do. I truly do. Did . . . anyone come looking for her? Other than us?”
Danton shook his head warily. “Like who?”
Gideon showed him the photo of Ephraim Burton. “Him. He’d be a little older.”
Danton studied the photo carefully. “This looks like it was ripped up once and put back together.”
“It was,” Gideon said. “It was found in Eileen’s locket, ripped up.”
“Her husband,” Danton said flatly, his anger clearly close to the surface. “This is the one who beat her up?”
“Probably. He’s dangerous.” Gideon held up his hand when Danton tried to give the photo back. “I have more copies of it. Keep it, in case he comes by. Don’t tell him anything and be careful. He went to the bus station asking about Eileen, but the man there didn’t tell him anything. This man is violent.”
“I will. I’ll warn Sammie, too. Thank you, Gideon.” He pulled a notepad and pen from an end-table drawer and wrote down three phone numbers. “The top one is my Sammie’s cell. I’ll tell her to expect a call from you. She can arrange a meeting place and time in Portland. The middle number is my cell phone. I got spotty coverage here, but the bottom number is the landline. I’m not here much during the day, but you can leave a message.”
“Thank you,” Gideon said, standing up and helping Daisy to her feet. “We’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Thank you for the coffee, too.”
“My pleasure,” Danton said, walking them to the door. “Once you know for sure, can you tell me what’s happened to Eileen? We didn’t have her here with us for long, but we grew very fond of her.”
“I will,” Gideon promised, then drew a breath. “Either way.”
NINETEEN
MACDOEL, CALIFORNIA
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 12:40 P.M.
“Why did the men move there?” Daisy asked, breaking the silence in the car. Neither of them had spo
ken since leaving Danton’s house fifteen minutes earlier.
“What do you mean?”
“The men of Eden. I get why your mother ended up there. She was alone, trying to raise two kids and someone promised her a better life. But the men . . . did they grow up there? If not, what drew them there? It was a hard life. Lots of manual effort. No electricity. No sports on TV. Was it just the sex with multiple wives anytime they chose?”
“For some, that was enough,” Gideon said seriously, because it was a very serious question. “Some were drawn by the whole back-to-basics concept.”
She stared out the window thoughtfully. “This area isn’t too different from where I lived on the ranch with Dad and my sisters. Remote. Rough terrain. Makes for a hard life.”
“Where was your ranch?”
“West of Weaverville.”
She was quiet then, so long that he glanced over to see her biting on her lower lip. “What?” he asked. “What are you thinking about?”
“That we went to the middle of nowhere to hide. I wonder if any of the people in your community did the same.” She shifted in her seat to meet his eyes. “And if they did, what—or who—were they hiding from?”
“That’s a damn good question. I’ve thought of that, but—” A loud rattle of the engine cut off what he’d been about to say, right about the same time he smelled—
“Is that bleach?” Daisy asked, her brow furrowing.
“Yes,” Gideon said grimly, because the engine’s rattle was growing louder. And now plumes of smoke were rising from the edges of the hood. “Shit.”
They were only twenty minutes from Gale Danton’s house. But that might as well have been in the middle of freaking nowhere because his car had been sabotaged, leaving them vulnerable. Very fucking vulnerable.
Gideon did a U-turn and pulled the car to the narrow shoulder facing back toward Macdoel. This way he could look at the engine and Daisy would have some protection from whoever had intended to stop them here. The drop-off was steep, but it could have been far worse. “If bullets start flying, slide down the hill there and keep your head down.”
Daisy was sliding Brutus’s bag over her shoulder. “What about you?”