place, though, so I don’t know where she ended up.”
“And your father?” Croft asked.
“He died ten years ago,” Merle said gruffly. “He was never the same after Will’s suicide.” He cleared his throat. “But enough talk of sad times. What else can we help you with?”
“Did your parents continue to rent the house after Margo moved away?” Croft asked.
“They did,” Merle confirmed. “It was nearly always occupied, although it’s been sitting empty for the past few months. We’re probably going to sell it. Mom’s nursing home is pretty expensive.” He made a face. “I should probably sell the car, too.”
“No,” Joni said quickly. “You need to keep that car for yourself. As a memory of your dad.”
“I guess we’ll have to see,” Merle said. “Will you need the car, Agent Hunter?”
Tom turned to Croft. “I don’t know. Will we?”
“For a little while, yes,” Croft replied. “It might have been used in the commission of a crime, so we’ll want our forensics team to examine it.”
Merle’s mouth dropped open. “A crime? What kind of crime? Does this involve DJ? Is that why you’re here?”
Croft threw a quick glance at Tom before turning back to the couple. “We don’t know if DJ is connected to the car, but we do have evidence that he’s involved in our investigation.”
Joni gasped softly. “So he is alive?”
“We believe so,” Croft said. “If he should come to see you, please contact us. Don’t invite him into your home.”
“He’s turned out like his father, then,” Merle said heavily. “Has he been in prison, too?”
“We don’t know,” Croft said kindly. “But he is dangerous. He might not bother you, but if he does, please let us know.”
“We will,” Merle said, his voice faltering. “This . . . is not what I expected.”
Tom believed him and it seemed that Croft did, too. “Can we see the car?” he asked.
Merle rose unsteadily, Joni at his side. “Of course. It’s this way.”
Tom and Croft followed the couple to the back of the house, passing along a wall covered in framed photos. Tom paused at one that caught his eye—two photos side by side, both of small boys about four years old, both blond, nearly identical in appearance. But one was in color while the other was black-and-white and appeared much older.
“That’s Waylon as a baby,” Joni said when she realized what he was staring at. “Waylon and DJ at the same age. There’s a strong resemblance, isn’t there?”
“There really is.” Tom met Joni’s gaze. “May I snap a photo of these pictures?”
“I don’t see why not.” Joni stepped back, allowing Tom to take the photo.
“Thank you.” Tom scanned the wall. There were several photos featuring an older couple—Merle’s parents, he figured. In one of the photos, Merle and his father stood in front of the classic Camaro, wearing matching grins. There was another photo with the older couple and DJ, dressed for church. But there was no sign of Pastor’s wife and children. “No photos of Margo and the twins?”
“Mom has a few at the nursing home,” Merle said. “The rest are in storage. Why?”
Tom smiled at him. “Just curious. I apologize if I overstepped.”
“No worries.” Merle jerked his head in the direction they’d been walking. “Car’s this way.”
Tom whistled softly when Merle opened the door to the garage. “Sweet.” It really was. Even from several feet away, it was obvious that the car had been well taken care of.
Tom wondered where Ephraim had kept the car all this time. They might never know now.
“Your forensics guys won’t hurt her?” Merle asked.
“They’ll take good care of her,” Croft assured him. “We’ll just wait out in our vehicle for the flatbed truck to arrive. Can I have the keys?”
Merle handed them over reluctantly and Tom and Croft returned to the SUV, where Croft called for a truck while Tom called San Francisco PD about the Camaro.
A half hour later, a truck was on its way and Tom had confirmed that the Camaro had only been cursorily searched by SFPD. “Not sure if the car will yield anything new, but it can’t hurt to check,” he told Croft.
“I agree.” She glanced up at the Belmonts’ house. “I believed them.”
“I did, too.”
“Why did you ask for the photo?”
Tom shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not sure. Maybe just to fill in some gaps on my case wall.” He’d been collecting documents and photos for the past month, keeping them organized both on the wall of his office at work and at his home office. “Maybe I’m just