by Karen Rose
“She’s lying,” DJ insisted. “And if she doesn’t shut up, I’m going to shoot her in the head.”
Liza drew a breath. I’m sorry, Tom. “I served in Afghanistan. I looked men in the eye who were a helluva lot scarier than you. You’re going to kill me anyway. I might as well take you down with me. He lied to you, Mr. Travis. He told you that he killed Mercy, but she survived. Waylon Belmont said he killed Gideon, but he lied, too. Gideon is alive and well. And DJ here has been trying to kill them ever since, so that you won’t find out.”
She recoiled when DJ’s fist connected with her temple. Pain exploded in her head and she breathed out a moan. God, that hurts. Still, she forced herself to continue.
“We know you have fifty million bucks in offshore accounts and that your banker is . . .” She glanced at DJ because he’d suddenly gone rigid. This made her smile through the pain. “I think that’s something Mr. Belmont doesn’t know. So that tidbit I’m going to keep to myself.”
Playing them off one another might be the only way to keep herself alive until the cavalry arrived.
Pastor eyed her cannily. “You don’t know, either.”
“His initials are D.P.”
Pastor’s eyes flashed with anger and Liza hoped Tom was pursuing Daniel Park with everything he had. “What else do you know?” he demanded.
“Lots. I’d tell you, but he’s going to kill me, so I’m not going to tell you anything more.”
“Did you know this, DJ?” he asked calmly, which was somehow more frightening than his angry voice. “Did you know that the Feds know about us?”
“He did,” Liza said, and then she frowned. “Where’s the woman? Sister Coleen?”
Pastor tensed. “You left her behind, DJ. What were you thinking? She’ll sing.”
“No, she won’t,” DJ said grimly. And if looks could kill . . .
He didn’t need evil looks, though. He had a gun. And possibly a bomb that he could detonate with his phone.
Pastor laid back, his shoulders sinking. “You killed her? Why?”
Liza remembered the woman mentioning the catching up she’d been doing. “All that news she was reading, probably. Did she see all the news reports on Mercy?” She shifted in her seat to meet Pastor’s angry eyes. “There are many, many reports. All you need to do is look online.”
“Who’s going to be our healer now?” Pastor asked. Then he smiled cruelly. “How about you, Liza? We’d have to keep you subjugated, of course. Can’t have you running your mouth to the community.”
“We threaten a kid,” DJ said. “She’ll do anything to protect a kid. Won’t you, Liza?”
Fuck. Divide and conquer just took a step back. “No. Many things, yes. Anything? No.”
“Just take care of our people,” Pastor said smugly. “And obey. And wear a locket.” His eyes brightened. “And marry me. Since my wife is now gone.”
Liza tried to think past the pounding in her head. This sucked. The thought of being Pastor’s anything made her sick. But it bought her time and that would have to be good enough.
Tom would find her. And in the meantime, she could help that girl whose baby was due any minute. Hayley. Her name was Hayley.
She forced her lips to curve. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
“She’s lying,” DJ hissed.
“About what?” Pastor asked mildly. “That she’s willing to be our healer? My wife? Or that Mercy is alive when you said you’d killed her?”
“Yes.” DJ’s jaw was taut and a muscle in his cheek twitched. “All of that. Every word is a damn lie.”
“Well. I don’t think she’s lying about Mercy, but you can easily fix that once we’re all safely in Eden. And then we’ll talk more.” Pastor closed his eyes, clearly exhausted. “As for our new healer, she’ll come to heel eventually. Get me home, DJ. I’m tired of all of this.”
DJ shot her a venomous look and Liza swallowed hard. Fantastic.
At least she was alive. For now.
SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA
TUESDAY, MAY 30, 2:25 P.M.
“Where are we going?” Croft asked.
Tom clutched the wheel like a lifeline. Because it was. It was taking him to Liza. “Eden.”
Motherfucking DJ Belmont. If he’s touched one hair on her head . . .
“Okay,” Croft said. “I’d question that, considering we don’t know exactly where it is. But you’re in a shitty headspace, so I’m gonna let it go. What will you do when we get there?”
Kill DJ Belmont. “I don’t know.”
“That’s honest, at least. Let’s plan some scenarios, shall we? Like we’re professionals and not driving like crazy people up State Route 70 because Eden is ‘somewhere up there.’ ”
The decision to take a back road had been Tom’s. He didn’t think DJ would risk sticking to the interstate. This road was the fastest way north other than I-5, and it cut through Yuba City, where DJ had owned a home. He’d be familiar with this road.
Tom wanted to snarl, but she was right. “Okay. Give me scenarios.”
“I will. But first, be straight with me. Is Liza your ‘friend’ or more?”
“More.” His voice broke and he had to clear his throat. “Everything.”
“Honest again.” Croft rubbed her temples. “You shouldn’t be here, Tom. Why are we here?”
“Because I’d go all by myself anyway, and at least you’re here with me to keep me from doing something stupid and clusterfuckish?”
“Fair enough. Scenario one: We can’t find Eden.”
No. His brain couldn’t accept it as a possibility. But it was valid, nonetheless. “We keep looking. I keep looking.”
She sighed. “You’ll give up your career to keep looking? Because after this, you’re not going to be allowed within a light-year of anything Eden.”
“Yes. I might have already given up my career anyway.”
“You’re not wrong,” Croft murmured. “Damn, kid. I was getting used to you, too.”
He really didn’t give a fuck, but he wasn’t going to disrespect her. “What’s scenario two?”
“I’ll throw you a softball. You find Eden, and Liza is there, but DJ has dynamite.”
“Attempt hostage negotiations. Protect the innocents. Bring snipers in to take him down.”
“That’s a good start. Scenario three: You get there and Liza’s not there, but DJ is and he won’t tell you where she is.”
“But she’s alive,” Tom gritted out.
“Yes.”
“Offer him the fifty mil. We could have taken it at any time. We didn’t for the same reason that we never mentioned Eden to the media—they would have known we were after them.”
“What? I mean, I knew you could have taken it, but you’d give it to him?”
“No. I’d offer it to him. There are lots of ways to do what appears to be a money transfer.”
“Huh. That’s actually not a horrible idea.”
“Thank you,” he said dryly, then braced himself. “And scenario four?”
“She’s dead,” Croft said quietly.
A wave of nausea hit him hard. “No.”
“Then pull over, because you don’t belong in this car.”
Tom gripped the wheel tighter. “Then I retract my answer and take the Fifth.”
She sighed. “That’s what I thought. You should drive faster.”
He was already driving twenty over the limit with his flashers going, but he sped up. “Which back roads will take us up to Lassen?” he asked. “And when do I have to choose a route?”
Croft checked her phone. “You’ve got till Oroville. Either you stay on this road and come at the caves from the west or cut across at Chico and approach from the east. Either way, there’s no easy way to get there from anywhere, and the thought that we’ll pass DJ on the wa
y is like a fucking needle in a haystack.”
“You’d take a different route?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Carry on.”
They’d driven in silence for another twenty minutes when he got a call on his burner. It was the same number Liza had called him from after visiting Sergio’s tattoo studio. “Yeah?”
“It’s Gideon. Am I on speaker?”
“No.”
“Where are you?”
He didn’t even consider lying. He’d probably tanked his career, so what the hell? “Going north on 70.”
“Smart. Goes through Yuba City. He’ll know that route.”
“Exactly.”
“We’re going up I-5.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Mercy and me. And Daisy, of course. We’re following the SWAT team. I tried to keep Mercy at home, but she insisted, so Daisy’s locked and loaded. Mercy and Daisy are wearing all the tactical gear I could get my hands on.”
Tom almost smiled. “Who gave you the tip?”
“Molina. I think we’ve corrupted her.”
Tom had to blink hard. His eyes were burning. “I knew I liked her.”
“This is our fight, Tom. Mine and Mercy’s. If you find him, if you find Eden, we need to be there. The people are unlikely to believe you because you’re the government. They’ll believe us because we’re not dead.”
“How’s Rafe?”
“Unhappy. Feds dragged him in for being where he shouldn’t have been. He’ll be okay, though.”
“Good. Full disclosure, I don’t know exactly where I’m going. Just north, toward Lassen.”
“I figured,” Gideon said. “We’re hoping we picked the same route that DJ did, right?”
“Exactly. Contact me if you see anything.” He ended the call and glanced at Croft.
She was shaking her head again. “Just tell the review board that you took that call when you stopped for gas and I was in the bathroom.”
“Will do.”
Tom drove for another twenty minutes before seeing a sign for Oroville. “Door A or B?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Tom.”
“Can you check on the status of the warrant for Daniel Park’s phone records?”
“Sure.” She made the call to Raeburn’s office while Tom drummed his fingers on the wheel. “Not yet,” she said when she’d hung up. “Judge is evaluating.”
Tom knew they had to follow due process, but he wished he’d hacked into the guy’s phone himself. He was debating having Croft drive so that he could do exactly that when her cell rang. She listened for a moment, then breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the caller.
“The agent on duty at the Sokolovs’ intercepted a package.”
“Bomb?” Tom asked, praying that the family and their agents were all right.
“Big-ass bomb,” she confirmed. “Bomb squad took care of it.”
He was still shuddering out a relieved breath when his cell buzzed.
“We’re fucking Grand Central Station here,” Croft groused as she glanced at his phone’s screen. “It’s a 33 international calling code. Is that where I hope it is?”
“France,” he murmured. “I think Angelina Ward taped my business card together.” He answered, putting it on speaker. “This is Special Agent Hunter.”
“This is Angelina Ward.”
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, we are now. Thank you for asking. It was terrifying, honestly. I knew a cop was out there that night, but I knew Anthony wasn’t coming home. He’s good at anticipating trouble.”
She didn’t seem concerned that the agent had died. “You have a safe place?”
“Very safe.” She laughed, but it was a brittle sound. “I have two French police officers sitting in front of my house. Hopefully they’ll keep Anthony away if he decides to chase us.”
“You taped my business card back together?”
“Of course. I think you knew I would. Anthony had cameras everywhere. Having that man, that DJ Belmont, jump the electric fence and murder the three men Anthony left on guard . . . I saw him kill one of the men. I’ve . . . I’ve never seen anyone die before.”
Tom didn’t think he believed that. “How can I help you, Mrs. Ward?” he asked.
“You can catch my husband and put him behind bars so that I can sleep again.”
That he believed. “Can you tell me where he is?”
“Yes. Did you find my cell phone?”
Tom frowned. “Yes, ma’am. We found all your devices in a very neat stack.”
“I wanted Anthony to know I’d left for good if he found the electronics first. I can give you the password to my cell phone. I wiped everything but the app I used to track him.”
He shared a shocked glance with Croft. “You can track him?”
“Always have been able to. He never thought I was very smart. But I am. So do you want the password or not?”
“Of course I do. Please.”
“9-3-5-5-6-9. Spells ‘yellow.’ That’s also the password for the app.”
Croft noted it and gave Tom a thumbs-up.
“Got it,” he said. “Which app are you using? I’m not at the field office right now, so I don’t have immediate access to your phone.”
“FindMyCheatingSpouse dot com. User name is Angie W.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. We’re square now. You gave me a heads-up on Belmont. My kids slept in my bed that night. I kept the dog in my room, too, along with a small arsenal. I didn’t sleep at all. I was terrified. If you put that sonofabitch I married away, I’ll owe you another.”
Tom didn’t know what to say to that. “Have a safe day, ma’am.”
She ended the call and Tom slid his phone back into his pocket.
“Oh. My. God,” Croft breathed.
Tom glanced over to see her staring at her phone with huge grin. “What?”
She turned that grin his direction. “Guess where Kowalski is? You’ll never guess, so I’ll tell you. Here. On this road. About twenty minutes north.”
Tom blinked. “What?”
“He’s on this road. What’dya bet it’s a coincidence?”
“No such thing,” Tom murmured. “So Kowalski is following DJ?”
“He does have a score to settle.”
“But how did Kowalski know . . . Never mind. We can ask when we find him.”
“I’ll contact Raeburn and let him know. You drive faster. We need to get there before they kill each other.”
“And Liza.” Tom floored the gas.
TWAIN, CALIFORNIA
TUESDAY, MAY 30, 3:45 P.M.
This is far enough, DJ thought once they were roughly an hour past the last big town on the way to Eden. This route was very remote and he hadn’t seen another vehicle in at least a half an hour. There was a steep rock face to his left and a deep ravine to his right. There was also a pull-off with enough foliage to camouflage the SUV.
He rolled to a stop as close to the edge of the ravine as he dared. Edges sometimes crumbled, and he had no desire to go plummeting a hundred feet to his death.
Liza Barkley looked around, too alert for his liking. She’d served in the military, which meant she had fighting skills. She’d been silent ever since Pastor had informed her that she’d be their healer, seeming to accept that she wasn’t going to be able to turn them against each other, but he wasn’t going to take his eyes off her. She was trouble.
Of course, the damage was already done. Pastor had believed her about Mercy and the old man was unhappy.
Which doesn’t matter. Because neither Pastor nor Liza would live to see Eden. When he was done with Pastor, the old man would be dead and DJ would be fifty million richer. And he wouldn’t have to share it with the community
or Coleen or Pastor’s damn banker.
“Why are we stopping?” Pastor asked sleepily, having just woken.
So I can kill you. “So I can pee.” He needed to get the lay of the land before he shot them. Dragging that drunk to the creek the night before had reinjured his shoulder. He needed to find a place to shoot them where he could just push them into the ravine.
And he really did need to pee, so there was that.
He was zipping up his jeans when he heard an approaching engine. “Shit,” he muttered. He hunkered down, waiting for the vehicle to pass by.
But it didn’t. It slowed down. And then it stopped.
Fuck, fuck. It was Kowalski’s Jeep.
Motherfucking Kowalski. He followed me. How?
Both front doors opened and DJ recognized the passenger as another of Kowalski’s minions. He and Kowalski strolled up to the Explorer like they owned it. The minion yanked Barkley from the front seat and Kowalski pulled Pastor from the back, holding the old man against his chest, a forearm pressed to Pastor’s throat.
What the fucking hell?
“Where is DJ?” Kowalski demanded.
“He went up the rock face to get a cell signal,” Pastor said weakly, and DJ was reluctantly impressed. Pastor didn’t bat an eye as he lied. His face was sheet-white and he was putting his weight on his unbroken leg.
“Fine,” Kowalski said. “I’ll deal with him later, wherever he is. Who’s the girl?”
“My nurse,” Pastor replied. “I’m quite ill.”
“I heard. You got hurt and DJ ran off to take care of you like a whipped pussy. He fucked up that night, Father.”
“It’s actually Pastor,” Pastor said, gritting his teeth, but still showing no signs of fear. “I’m not Catholic.”
Kowalski snorted. “Good one. He said you were his father. As in mother and father.”
“Oh. Well, that’s true. I had surgery, though, and you’re going to pop my stitches.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kowalski said sarcastically. “Let me be brief. I want you to contact your banker and have him transfer all your holdings into my account.”
Fucking asshole, DJ thought furiously. He’s stealing my money.
Pastor wheezed a chuckle. “You can’t be serious.”