“Cassidy, I should have never told them you were a cop.” Skye’s voice caught, and her lips wrinkled in a frown. Gone was Cassidy’s free-spirited friend with the gypsy vibe. In her place was a woman haunted by what had happened. “I’m so sorry.”
Cassidy squeezed her arm. “It’s okay, Skye. It’s hard to know the best way to act in situations like that. Even with training, everything gets muddled when you think your life is on the line.”
“If I’d just kept my mouth shut . . .” She continued, not seeming to hear Cassidy.
“They would have probably still done something stupid,” Cassidy told her. “Their actions were escalating, and they have been since long before they came here.”
Skye still looked unconvinced.
“Those are the men who killed that store clerk in Nags Head.” Lisa’s wide eyes remained focused on Cassidy as she waited to hear the truth, to hear confirmation that she was correct and that they’d come face-to-face with killers this evening.
After a moment of hesitation, Cassidy nodded. “We believe they’re the same men. They fit the description.”
Lisa pulled her arms tighter across her chest and glanced out into the lobby toward Braden. “That could have been one of us. It’s only by the grace of God that all three of us are still here right now.”
“God must still have a plan for us then, right?” Cassidy said. “He’s not done with us yet.”
Cassidy would guess that Lisa was thinking about her upcoming wedding. How everything could have changed, been turned on its head in the blink of an eye.
It would take all of them a while to come to terms with what had happened. Cassidy knew that. But right now, all she cared about was finding these guys before they hurt anyone else.
Just then, the phone at the front desk rang. Cassidy glanced that way and realized that Melva had slipped away, probably to the bathroom.
“Excuse me a minute, ladies,” she murmured. Cassidy walked over and put the phone to her ear, hoping that someone might be calling in a viable lead. “Lantern Beach PD.”
“You got away tonight.” The voice on the other end of the line caused a chill to wash over Cassidy.
It was the man who’d held her at gunpoint. She was certain of it.
Cassidy’s throat suddenly ached. “Who is this?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? No one gets away with treating Django like you did. No one.”
“Yet I did get away.” Cassidy was baiting him, and she knew it. But she needed to get into his head. “Maybe that’s because you’re not as tough as you think you are.”
The man let out a subtle growl. “You think you’re so smart. But you’re not. Because this isn’t over.”
Another chill captured her muscles. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that this whole town is in danger, and it’s all your fault.”
Before she could say anything else, the line went dead. She hung up the phone then stood there in stunned silence for a moment, replaying the short conversation.
The whole town is in danger, and it’s all your fault.
Cassidy wasn’t naïve enough to think this was all her fault. But she had enough experience to know this wasn’t an idle threat. Django was angry, and he was looking for a way to strike back.
If she had to guess, all of this wasn’t about robbing stores for cash. No, it was about control. About spreading terror. About exerting power.
And none of that was okay.
“Chief?”
Cassidy looked up and saw Dane standing in front of her. “Yes?”
He squinted, studying her for a moment. “Is everything okay?”
As she glanced at her hands, she realized they were trembling. She lowered them, putting one in her pocket to conceal just how shaken she was.
“Our suspect just called and threatened me,” she told him. “The whole town, for that matter.”
Dane’s eyes widened. “Could you trace the call?”
“There wasn’t enough time.”
Dane shifted, his frown deepening. “I wanted to let you know that we found their car. I came back here to get the camera so we could document everything.”
“Where did you find it?”
“It was abandoned at a house not far from where we found you. But the men weren’t inside the house, and, so far, are nowhere to be found.”
“Get out there with Ranger. See if he can track them.”
“Yes, Chief.”
As he walked away, Cassidy frowned. She wanted to think they were closing in on these guys. But she had a feeling those guys were closing in on them instead.
Chapter Six
The tears wouldn’t stop rolling down Moriah’s face as she remembered last night’s events. Even as the sun began to rise in the distance, everything still felt fresh—maybe because she’d been awake all night.
She sat on her bed. Her shoulder hurt so badly. She’d never felt pain like that before. That poker had been hotter than the devil. And now the devil was seared into her skin.
Ruth had walked her back to the RV after the initiation ceremony. Her roommate had whispered that she was proud of Moriah before disappearing onto her bunk to get a good night’s rest.
Moriah had known there was no way she’d be resting. The pain had been too great, and she had no medicine here. She had no bandages. No balm.
Quietly, she stood and walked into the bathroom. Wincing, she glanced over her shoulder, trying to get a look at the mark in the mirror there.
It didn’t even make sense. It was all lines and loops. Was it an Arabic symbol? She had no idea.
After she’d been branded, the Council had prayed over her. Anointed her.
All while Moriah sobbed.
She feared what they were going to do to her next. Especially Enoch. Moriah had seen the way that man looked at her.
He might be one of Gilead’s most trusted advisors, but that didn’t mean Moriah liked him.
She turned back to her reflection in the warped mirror and stared at her bloodshot eyes. Her messy hair that cascaded past her shoulders. At one time, right after she’d come here to Gilead’s cove, Moriah had looked at herself and seen hope in her eyes. That hope was disappearing, though. The hope that at one time had been so strong had now vanished from her gaze.
“I want to go home,” she whispered. It was the first time Moriah had muttered those words since she’d arrived a month ago. But tonight’s events weren’t what she signed up for.
She felt like a little girl again, and she would do anything for one of her mom’s hugs to make everything better.
How was having scorching hot metal seared into your skin a sign of loyalty? Moriah wasn’t livestock. Coming here was supposed to make her life better.
How could she have been so wrong?
Using the sleeve of her tunic, Moriah wiped more tears away. Soon, it would be time for everyone to stir. They’d gather at the Meeting Place for breakfast in silence and a word from Gilead about today and how they could overcome challenges.
Moriah didn’t want to do any of it. Not anymore.
A knock sounded at her trailer door. She drew in her tears and flinched as she pulled her tunic back over her shoulder. The fabric, as it rubbed against her wound, might as well have been made from nails.
She sucked in a deep breath before opening the door.
Her eyes widened when she saw Anthony Gilead standing there.
The man had thick, dark hair. Piercing blue eyes. A tall, thin build. Everything he did, he did with confidence and finesse.
He stepped up toward her, studying her face. “Moriah. I was hoping to have a moment alone with you.”
She lowered her gaze. “Of course.”
“Ruth, I’d like some privacy.”
Moriah had no idea Ruth was even awake. But in ten seconds flat, Ruth was out of bed and had scurried out the door.
Then it was just Moriah and Gilead. He took her arm and led her to a ripped couch built into the side of the R
V. He sat her down there.
Gently, he used the back of his hand to brush beneath her eyes.
Moriah hadn’t realized it, but she was still crying.
As his hand left her face, he tenderly swept her hair back.
“I know it’s hard,” he murmured. “I wanted to come check on you myself.”
Her heart warmed. Anthony Gilead was the most wonderful person she’d ever meant. He was anointed for great things—things beyond this compound.
The man had changed her life. Helped her see the good inside her. The potential.
Whenever he gave her any special attention, Moriah felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
But those warm, fuzzy feelings clashed with the agony of what had happened earlier, the feeling so violent that nausea rose in her gut.
“It hurt so bad.” A new round of tears started. “I don’t understand why . . .”
“I know it’s hard to understand, Moriah,” he murmured. “But in Makir, it talks about how we should each bear the mark of the Lord. That’s how people will know we’re set apart—it’s one of the ways, at least. We don’t ask people to take this step until we’re sure they’re ready. It’s the only reason we asked you. We knew it was time.”
She wiped her tears. “You really think I’m ready?”
Gilead cupped her face. “I know you’re ready, Moriah. I’ve seen you transform from a scared girl into a courageous woman.”
“You’ve seen that?” She sniffled. She really hadn’t been sure Gilead had noticed her at all. Other than a couple meetings alone in his office and a few distant promises, she’d felt invisible.
He smiled. “I’ve been keeping a close eye on you. Even last night I saw you.”
Moriah sucked in a breath. “Last night? But you weren’t there. I looked.”
He took her hand from her lap and squeezed it tight. “I was watching from a distance. Of course. Moriah, I told you how the Lord spoke to me about us and our future. You mean a great deal to me.”
She sniffled again. “I thought the Lord may have changed His mind.”
Gilead tilted his head. “The Lord doesn’t change His mind. But some things take time. This was the first step, Moriah. The first step to us being together.”
“I understand . . .” Anything Moriah was about to say was cut off by another shot of pain spreading across her shoulder.
“May I?” He nodded toward her shoulder.
Did Gilead want her to . . .? Moriah’s lungs froze. It seemed so immodest to do in the presence of such a virtuous man.
Gilead was trustworthy, she reminded herself. He’d never ask anything inappropriate. All the other jerky men in her life had ruined it for anyone she met in the future.
Licking her lips, Moriah let the tunic slide off her shoulder. Gilead shifted on the couch to get a better look.
She glanced over her shoulder, trying to watch his expression. Waiting to see the horror.
Instead he looked . . . satisfied?
Satisfied at her pain? Her breath caught at the thought.
No, Moriah realized. He was satisfied at her faithfulness to the cause. Much was required of those who abided here—things like picking up your crosses and laying down your desires and need for comfort in order to accomplish a greater purpose.
Of course.
“I think it will heal nicely.” With special care, he pulled her tunic up until her wound was concealed. “In fact, I think it’s going to be beautiful in a couple of weeks.”
She blinked, holding back tears as hope filled her. “You do?”
Gilead’s smile took her breath away. “I do. And I’m pleased that this means we can move forward soon. As husband and wife.”
Her hope expanded, filling her chest with so much ballooning happiness that she could hardly contain it. Everything suddenly felt clear. Her future seemed certain.
Gilead was right. The whole experience had been hard. But now it was over, and she could heal. She could move forward and find her rightful place here at the Cove . . . with Gilead by her side.
“Moriah,” he murmured, leaning toward her.
The hazy look in his eyes nearly put her in a trance. “Yes?”
“We’re going to have something beautiful together.” As the words left Gilead’s mouth, his lips covered hers . . . consumed hers.
And all Moriah’s pain was momentarily forgotten.
Chapter Seven
Cassidy took another sip of her coffee, her all-nighter starting to catch up with her.
Just as Doc Clemson had promised, the ache in her ribs was more prominent now, as was the pain on the side of her face and the pounding in her head.
Cassidy had ventured to look in the mirror once, and it had been a mistake. Half her face was swollen and bruised. She had stitches in her forehead. Her lips had also ballooned and turned a shade of purple.
Thankfully, she wasn’t trying out for a beauty pageant any time soon because she looked like death warmed over.
Ty had been by her side all evening and into the morning as they chased down leads. He’d spent a considerable chunk of time calling the bank to cancel Cassidy’s debit card and credit card as well as filling out paperwork for a replacement driver’s license. He’d already talked to their friend Austin about fixing the door that Cassidy had fractured at the house where she’d hid out.
They were small things in the big picture of what was going on, but getting those tasks done at least helped them feel a little accomplished.
At the moment, Ty sat across from Cassidy in her office, studying satellite images to figure out where these men most likely would have gone after abandoning their car. Dane, Leggott, Abbott, and Mac had spent most of the evening checking the houses closest to that location, but they’d found nothing and no one.
The fact that the suspects had abandoned their stolen vehicle wasn’t necessarily a good sign. They obviously knew they were too recognizable while in it, and they were correct. But that meant that they were now chasing three men who were faceless and nameless.
The men had left the bag of loot from the general store in the car, but they had taken the cash and the wallets from the women’s purses. Dane’s dog, Ranger, had followed the men’s trail for a while, but the scent had disappeared in the marshes near the sound.
If the men were still on the island, Cassidy and her crew had to find them. With more than a thousand houses on Lantern Beach, the task would be difficult. Ninety-five percent of the residences were vacant since it was the off season.
That left a lot of houses where these men could hunker down. This was like a game of hide-and-seek that no one wanted to play. The stakes were too high.
Today, law enforcement would continue to scour the streets as they searched for the men. A bulletin had been released to residents that if they saw anything suspicious to immediately let the police know. And whatever the public did, they were not to confront these men.
Cassidy had hoped and prayed that they would have made more progress by now. The first several hours after the crime gave them a higher probability of finding these guys. With every hour that passed, so did their hopes of catching these criminals.
Just then, Melva, the receptionist and dispatcher, knocked on Cassidy’s door, a nervous look on her face. The expression was nothing unusual. Something about Cassidy made the fifty-something woman anxious.
“Someone says they need to see you.” Melva pushed her wire-framed glasses up on her nose, her gaze unsteady as she peered at Cassidy.
“Is it about the men we’re looking for?”
Melva quickly shook her head, her expression tight and pinched. “No, Chief. It’s about something else.”
Cassidy rubbed the throbbing area between her eyes. “Can it wait? Because we’re swamped right now, and this case is our first priority. Everything else short of murder can wait.”
Her expression pinched tighter. “He said you’ll want to talk to him. He sounds very confident of that. What should I tell him?”
Cassidy’s gaze traveled behind Melva, and she squinted at the figure lingering in the background. Was that . . . Kaleb Walker?
She sucked in a breath.
What was that man doing here? Cassidy had arrested him for drug possession three weeks ago, but the charges hadn’t stuck since the vehicle where the flakka had been found belonged to his brother.
But this issue went deeper than drugs found in his car . . . Kaleb was a part of a cult that had moved onto the island, a community called Gilead’s Cove. The place had been the predominate issue on Cassidy’s radar . . . up until last night’s crime spree.
“Send him in,” Cassidy muttered. She had only a little time, but she wanted to know what this visit was all about.
Melva nodded and scurried away. A moment later, Kaleb stepped into Cassidy’s office. He had a solemn look about him as he stood there, hands stuffed into his pockets, and offered a stiff nod.
Ty stood, maps still in his hands, and tipped his head toward the door. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
Cassidy nodded, hoping her gaze showed her appreciation. She liked Ty being close, but she still had professional standards to which she needed to adhere. She was so thankful that he respected those.
After the door closed, Cassidy turned to Kaleb. “Mr. Walker. What a surprise. Please, have a seat.”
When Cassidy had first met the man, she’d assumed he was a lost soul who’d found meaning while listening to the false, glowing promises offered at Gilead’s Cove. He’d even gone as far as being branded on his shoulder to show his loyalty to the movement—an act that Cassidy couldn’t even begin to imagine.
Cassidy later found out that Kaleb was actually a lawyer—and a well-articulated, top law school educated one, at that. He didn’t fit the description of many other Gilead’s Cove members: people who seemed overwhelmingly lost, broken, addicted, and who had nowhere else to go.
Kaleb, dressed in jeans and a sweater, took a seat across from her desk.
Cassidy studied him a moment—studied how normal he looked. She still couldn’t figure out why some members of Gilead’s Cove could wear regular clothes while the rest wore matching tunics and khakis. Then again, there was a lot she didn’t understand about the cult. Not only that—they didn’t want her to understand. Everything was cloaked in secrecy.
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