“I thought you were going to take longer breaks between out-of-town work.”
Dallas didn’t remember the conversation quite that way. “This case is critical. A woman is missing, and I’m the only agent who can get into the community quickly.”
“Why is that?”
“I look like the wife of the man who kidnapped her.”
Her therapist scowled. “You’re supposed to charm a kidnapper? Maybe seduce him?”
“You know the bureau forbids hooking up with the target.”
“And I know you do it anyway.” Doctor Harper paused for a long moment, then glanced at her notes. “How is your relationship with Trevor progressing?”
Dallas felt like a kid who’d failed an assignment. “I broke up with him before I left.” She grinned. “But the sex was still good.”
“You’d only been dating a few weeks.”
“Five or six.”
“That relationship was shorter than most. Why?”
Dallas squirmed. Why did she put herself through this? “Because I was leaving, and I might be gone for months. It wasn’t fair to make him wait, especially since…” She trailed off. There were so many reasons.
“Since what? I want to hear this.”
Dallas used her fingers to count them off. “One, I was going to end it eventually anyway. Two, I need to feel free to be intimate with my target and not have any guilt. Three, I’m too young to get serious.”
“But you came to me because you wanted to develop a long-term relationship and not have the sex go stale. Because you were tired of hookups with strangers.” Doctor Harper softened her tone. “Those are your words.”
“That was before I developed a specialty for undercover work. I like it too much now to let a relationship get in the way.” Even though that was true, there was more to the story. She’d actually started counseling long ago. Her Aunt Lynn had taken her to a shrink when she was twelve, after her parents had become homeless meth addicts for a while. Dallas had sometimes fantasized about her parents dying in a car crash so she could go live permanently in the big house with her sweet, sane aunt. The psychologist had told her that was normal, and Dallas had decided that therapy could be a good thing.
Dr. Harper gave her a look. “Maybe you like the undercover work because it supports your pattern of enjoying sex with strangers and moving on.”
Dallas knew it was partly true. “It’s also exciting and meaningful work—and I’m good at it.” She shrugged. “I’m happy.”
“Except when you’re not.”
“Those episodes are rare now.”
The therapist raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re doing more and more undercover work that lets you become someone else?”
Dallas laughed. “Probably.”
“I want to talk about your abandonment issue. Do you still carry your security cloth?”
“Yes, but it’s only about three inches now.” Dr. Harper was the only person who knew that she’d kept a security blanket from her early childhood and liked to sniff it when she was stressed or lonely. It had a musty blend of her mother’s shampoo, her own baby sweat, and a sweet kitty named Pickle—and the smell took her back to a time when she felt secure. Over the years, her shrink had encouraged her to cut the dirty blanket in half and throw away a chunk at a time. Dallas was pleased with her progress, but she still liked to keep a tiny piece in her pocket, like a good-luck charm. “I don’t have time to talk about this today. I have a lunch date with my target.”
“Are you going to sleep with him?”
“I doubt it.” But she might hook up with Agent McCullen if the opportunity came up again. “I’ll call you when I get back to Phoenix.”
“I want to see you again in two weeks.”
“That’s not gonna happen. I’m joining an isolated community that may not have internet access.”
“That sounds dangerous.” Doctor Harper looked worried.
“I’ll be fine.” Dallas reached for her mouse. “See you again soon.” She clicked off Skype and shut down her computer. Abandonment issue. She hated that phrase. It made her sound weak and whiney. Her parents had never really walked away from her—but they’d never really been there either. She would have been better off if they had dumped her and let Aunt Lynn have custody. Dallas put all the bullshit out of her head. She had to get into Sonja mode and go meet Spencer Clayton.
Dallas googled the restaurant, checked the map for directions to get a visual layout, and took off in the white Audi. The Redding Bureau had taken care of the motel and the vehicle, and McCullen had probably handled both. She liked his taste. With only three agents, the Redding office was even smaller than the Eugene bureau where she’d conducted her last assignment. She wouldn’t likely see the building or meet the other members of her team until she’d found Emma and/or made arrests.
The drive took only fifteen minutes, but she noted that Redding was clean and attractive, with an eclectic mix of historic buildings, modern malls with all the familiar retailers, and lots of stucco and red-tile roofs. The palm trees surprised her, as did the town’s size. Redding was bigger and more bustling than she’d imagined. Under a bright blue sky, distant mountains surrounded the town, giving it a sense of place.
Still operating on Phoenix driving time, she arrived twenty minutes early, so Dallas sat in the car and read through her Sonja background again. She liked her character and her desire to reject her financially comfortable world and seek a more meaningful future. Especially after the death of her fiancé, who’d killed himself after he began to show signs of Huntington’s disease.
Knowing it all by heart now, Dallas closed the password-protected file and shut off her tablet. She had studied the slim profile again on the plane and was as ready as she could be. Now she just needed to be charming and sincere and eventually express an interest in having children, despite the uncertain future. The thought made her chuckle. Would she be able to say it with a straight face? Of course she would. Aunt Lynn had paid for acting classes when Dallas was in high school—after piano lessons, tennis instruction, ballet, and she’d noticed anyway.
The parking lot started to fill up, so Dallas went inside, where she asked for a private booth and told the hostess she was expecting someone to join her. “His name is Spencer.”
“Spencer Clayton? From Destiny?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Of course. He comes in here all the time.” The hostess gave her a long appraising once-over. “How do you know him?”
“We met online.” Dallas smiled warmly. “The internet is an amazing social tool for bringing likeminded people together.” Spoken like a true social media consultant.
“You’re joining his community?” The hostess’ middle-aged face registered concern.
“I’m thinking about it.” Time to start digging. “What do you think of Destiny? Should I be worried about anything?”
The hostess glanced around to see if anyone was within earshot, then leaned forward. “A month ago, I would have said ‘Suit yourself. It’s harmless.’ But one of the main members disappeared last week, so we’re all a little more skeptical now.”
Dallas feigned surprise. “What do you mean disappeared?”
“Spencer’s sister-in-law left Destiny to visit her mother and never arrived.” The hostess’ voice was a whisper. “They finally found Emma’s car yesterday about ten miles from the community, but she and her baby were gone.”
“That’s weird. Do you suspect her husband of something?” Dallas kept her voice low too, hoping to keep her talking.
“I don’t know.” The hostess led her to a corner booth and spoke in a regular tone. “The older brother is nice and her husband seems okay.”
“What about the other members?” Dallas wondered how the town folks viewed the community.
“The Destiny members are just regular folks. No wackos or crackpots. Just people who want to be ready for the worst.” They both heard the front door open, and the hostess spun toward it. “I have
to get back to work. Welcome to Redding.” She hustled to her podium and seated two women in casual business clothes.
Dallas was relieved to hear the preppers weren’t viewed as crackpots. Still, they possessed a significant stash of weapons, and she would have to keep that in mind at all times. Anyone she encountered out there could be armed. Her backup weapon was in a hidden compartment in the bottom of her purse. The shoulder bag was a new department-issue item, but the zipper on her last one had stuck when she needed her gun, so she felt less secure than she should have. Her Glock was at home in Phoenix, because they hadn’t had time to create the paperwork she needed to take it on the plane. That was the only part of undercover work she didn’t like—not having her primary weapon at her fingertips.
She glanced at the menu, wondering what Sonja would eat. She wasn’t a vegetarian. Maybe a foodie, with high-end tastes. A moment later, she sensed movement and looked up. An attractive, forty-something man was walking toward her. Spencer Clayton. Thank goodness he was physically fit and easy to look at. She had once faked an interest in a chubby, flat-faced drug dealer, and it had been challenging. Dallas gave her new target a bright smile. “Spencer?” She stood and shook his hand. “Sonja Barnes. Thanks for meeting me. I’m very pleased to be here.”
“The pleasure is mine. We love when bright young people want to join our community.” Spencer sat across from her in the booth, and Dallas looked him over. He seemed dressed for golf in a short-sleeve pullover and khaki pants.
No concealed weapon that she could perceive. “How many members do you have?”
“Just thirty-seven. We’ve had hundreds of applicants, but we have high standards for admission. The essay portion disqualifies many, and the psychological evaluation eliminates half of those who come out here for it.”
The psych test was news to her. “What are you screening for?” Dallas laughed. “We’re all a little obsessive about something.”
“Obsession can be a good thing.” Spencer’s tone turned serious. “We’re trying to keep out people with paranoia/conspiracy issues or antisocial attitudes. We’re a close-knit community and personal interaction is essential.”
“Whew!” Dallas joked. “I’m a social media consultant, so I’ve got that under control.”
Spencer grinned. “I knew that. As long as you’re not afraid the government is out to get you, I think you’ll breeze through.”
“Good government is essential, even in small communities. Does Destiny have a council of leaders or some kind of mechanism for democratic decision making?”
“We do. And the council will decide whether to accept you.”
“When do I meet them?”
“Probably this evening. Let’s order lunch, then tour the community this afternoon and see how it goes. You may reject us.” Spencer signaled the food server, and a young man came over. Dallas ordered a specialty salad with pears and candied pecans. She wasn’t crazy about pears, but gourmet chefs loved them, and she wanted to look like someone who had grown up with gourmet food instead of rice and beans.
“Good choice. I’ve had everything on the menu by now, and that’s one of my favorites.” Spencer ordered a patty melt, then sheepishly admitted, “It’s my weakness, but I went for a long run this morning.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not a purist. I love free-range beef.” This was almost too easy. “Do you raise livestock out there?”
“Some. We have a little bit of everything.”
Another food server, a woman about her age, walked by, seeming familiar. After a moment of mental searching, Dallas’ heart skittered. Holy shit. Ashley Townsend. They’d gone to high school together in Flagstaff. What the hell was she doing in Redding? More important, would she recognize Dallas with her new hair? Most likely. Not much else about her had changed in ten years. She couldn’t sit here and let her cover get blown.
“Do you mind if we move to the patio? It’s such a nice day.” Dallas grabbed her purse and got up, not willing to take no for an answer.
Spencer looked surprised, but said, “Sure. I’ll let the hostess know.”
Dallas was tempted to make a break for the restroom so she could call McCullen, but she wasn’t willing to cross the restaurant. What could her contact do, anyway? Detain Ashley? Force the owner to close the business because of a security threat? No. She just had to keep her face averted and move things along as quickly as possible.
Outside, she chose a table that wasn’t visible through the windows. Spencer came along a moment later and sat down. “This is a nice idea. I love spring when the weather is perfect.”
“Me too. Although spring in Phoenix comes a little earlier than this.” The bureau had kept her real location because they’d had to move so quickly.
“I don’t know how you live there. I hate the desert.”
“Me too. That’s part of why I’m here now.”
“Why else?”
“I’m tired of living in uncertainty about the future, and I’m tired of grieving. I want a new life.”
“You lost someone?”
Dallas nodded, mustering up a sad expression. “My fiancé. We were together five years, then he killed himself after he developed Huntington’s disease.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Spencer reached over and held her hand. “Destiny is a good place to heal, but it’s also where I hope to spend my last days.”
The handholding irritated her, and she was relieved when their server hustled up with their food. Dallas pulled away and dug in. Ashley was still in the building, only fifty feet away. Dallas wondered again how the woman had ended up in Redding. The sight of Mount Shasta brought it into focus. Ashley was a skier, and Redding was a similar size and geography as Flagstaff. Ashley had probably moved here for the skiing—and better state politics. Had she brought her high school boyfriend along too? Dallas had to get out to the anonymity of the compound as soon as possible.
While they ate, she brought up the news she’d read that morning about a European banking scandal, and they discussed the financial system. She learned that Spencer believed globalization was contributing to the demise of the human race because it accelerated carbon emissions. He was also vehemently opposed to recreational air travel and the “superfluous” burning of jet fuel. Dallas nodded, asked polite questions, and didn’t find anything too laughable.
Fortunately, Spencer didn’t mind chewing while talking, so they finished their meals quickly. Dallas was jumpy to leave before Ashley spotted her. “I’d love to see Destiny. Can we head out?”
He looked at his watch. “I have an errand to run, but I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
After a twenty-five minute drive through scrubby pines dotted with occasional homes and small farms, Dallas found the little community at the end of a narrow private road. Few people would ever stumble upon Destiny by accident.
Before she reached the cul-de-sac, Dallas noticed retractable gates on both sides. Did they close the entry every night? Or was the gate just part of preparing for the apocalypse? It wouldn’t deter anyone on foot, but it would keep most vehicles from advancing. The trees along the road made the gate difficult to drive around… but not impossible. If she needed to escape the community with the gate closed, she would plow right across the last lawn and head through the thicket. The Audi was nice, but still only a rental.
Dallas eased past the gate stubs, noticing narrow side streets that led to a second layer of homes on both sides. She spotted Spencer’s Jeep and parked in front of the largest house at the end. Beyond it were fields and at least one greenhouse she could see. Curiosity made her nerves hum. What else was out there? And where were they keeping Emma and her baby?
Spencer stepped out of the bright yellow house and waved for her to come in. Dallas took a deep breath and jogged up the path. This was the turning point. She was no longer sniffing around the edge of this scenario. Once she entered, she would be committed.
“This is my home,” he explained as they stood in the vault
ed living room. “But the annexed building is our data center and meeting room. We also have some informal gatherings here.”
“It’s bright and beautiful.” Dallas didn’t have her eyes on the tall windows or teak floor. She noted instead a small handgun on the foyer table. What was he worried about?
Spencer noticed. “We have to protect our livestock from coyotes and wolves.”
“We are out here in the boonies.” She tried to sound casual. “Did you clear the land yourself ?”
“Most of it was already farmland. We tore down an old homestead when we started building.”
“You had quite a vision.”
He beamed, obviously proud of his creation. “I’ll show you the data center, then we’ll walk around.” He glanced down the hall. “I’d introduce you to my wife, but she’s sleeping.”
Spencer started toward a side door, then turned to her, his voice low. “The truth is, my wife is dying. She may only have a few days left.” His expression didn’t change, but his voice held a reverent tone.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. You must be devastated. Is this a bad time for me to be here?”
Spencer touched Dallas’ shoulder, his fingers staying longer than she expected.
“I’ve had a long time to grieve for Lisa, and she’s in a lot of pain. It will be a relief for both of us to move on.” He started across the room again.
“Will you have a service for her here?”
“Of course. And I’ll scatter her ashes in the lavender patch she planted.”
They stepped into the data center, and a young man glanced over his shoulder. Catching sight of her, he popped to his feet. Dallas wasn’t impressed: scraggly hair, sweat pants, and pudgy from lack of exercise.
Spencer gestured. “This is Greg Rafferty, but he likes to be called Raff.”
The techie didn’t offer his hand or make eye contact. Odd. Men rarely ignored her. And he didn’t look like a prepper. More like a slacker or, in this room, a hacker.
“Sonja Barnes.” She nodded and glanced around. The data center held three main computers, a host of monitors, and a small server. How unusual. Why did a back-to-nature community with fewer than forty people need all that digital capacity? Raff was obviously a cyber geek, but why was he here and what was he up to? She turned to Spencer. “You have satellite internet?”
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