Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) - Karen Rose Page 0,109

Waylon found their remains at the bottom of a ravine. They were not recognizable. Or so goes the story we were told as kids. It was something the leaders told us to keep us from venturing far from the compound.”

“Those remains belonged to someone else,” Liza said, feeling foolish for stating the obvious. “Hopefully victims of an unrelated accident.”

“But possibly murder victims,” Daisy said soberly. “Waylon brought back a body after Gideon escaped. Told everyone it was him, but he was also unrecognizable.”

“So Pastor’s wife and kids survived,” Liza murmured. “I wonder why she ran? How old were they when they disappeared?”

“Eleven,” Gideon said, still staring at the photo. Then he looked up, understanding in his eyes. “Almost twelve. Bernice would have been married off very soon.”

“And her mother didn’t want her daughter raped in the name of marriage at twelve years old,” Daisy finished. “What a hypocrite.”

“Yes, but also a mother who saved her kids,” Liza said. “Although it sounds like Bo didn’t like being saved all that well if he wanted an Eden tattoo.” She sighed. “So which of us is going to tell Tom?”

Daisy and Gideon shared an uncomfortable glance. “I’m not supposed to be here right now,” Gideon said. “I’m recused.”

“I’ll tell him,” Liza said. Having an appointment for a tattoo would make a good reason to cut her conversation short. “Are you going to stay here? Or go get some food or something?”

“We’re staying,” Gideon said firmly. “No way are we leaving you alone. Go ahead and call Tom. We’ll have your back if he gets angry with you like Irina said he did this morning on the telephone.”

“Let him even try,” Daisy added. “He’ll be sorry he decided to tangle with me.”

The thought of five-foot-nothing Daisy facing off against six-foot-six Tom was enough to make her grin. “That is exactly the image I needed today, Daisy. You, fists on your hips, glaring up at Tom. I think he’d be quaking in his boots, quite honestly.”

Daisy grinned back. “As he should. But I hadn’t planned to personally confront him. I just took a page from his book and got one of these.” From a pocket in her jacket she produced a flip phone. “It’s a burner. Got it at Walmart. The FBI won’t be able to track us back to Sergio.”

“Seriously, Daisy?” Gideon asked. “What have you used it for?”

“Nothing. This is its inaugural call. I like carrying it. Makes me feel all clandestine.”

Gideon’s smile was fond. “You’re impossible.”

Liza took the phone, completely impressed. “I’m just glad you’re on my side.”

“Many people say this,” Daisy said loftily.

Liza laughed softly. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

Daisy winked at her. “That’s what family’s for. Make your call.”

BENICIA, CALIFORNIA

THURSDAY, MAY 25, 4:00 P.M.

“It’s empty,” Croft said, peering into a window of the Belmonts’ rental home.

Tom joined her after taking a walk around the perimeter of the house. “Basement too.”

They’d come up empty on their search for members of the Chicos gang. The local PDs knew of them, but no one knew any names or locations where they might hide out. The gang, which seemed to have ceased recruiting new members, stayed under the radar through both skill and intimidation. Every cop they’d asked requested they share any information they dug up.

A call to Raeburn yielded his agreement that they should at least check DJ’s surviving family off their list of suspects, so they’d made the hour drive to Benicia, a quiet community northeast of Oakland. But if DJ was here, he was hiding his presence well.

Tom wanted to sigh. It was more likely that DJ hadn’t been hiding here and didn’t intend to.

Croft patted his shoulder as they returned to the SUV. “Don’t look so glum.”

“I wasted our time,” Tom said when they’d closed the SUV’s doors. “You were right.”

“Nah.” Croft clicked her seat belt into place. “It wasn’t a bad guess and we needed to check it out, especially since this was the address listed on his missing-person report.” Tom had sent his Eden file to her phone and she’d refreshed her memory by reading it aloud as they’d made the drive. “This was the last place he lived before Eden. He might have remembered it. Look, kid, most of the job is paperwork, checking off things that aren’t relevant, chasing dead ends, and waiting for new leads. Didn’t they teach you that at the Academy?”

“I thought they were exaggerating,” he muttered.

Croft chuckled. “Nope. Let’s check off another box by talking to DJ’s aunt and uncle.”

“Waylon’s brother and