Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) - Karen Rose Page 0,12

targeting. Agent Raeburn has been keeping them in the dark.” Which wasn’t only unfair, it was cruel and dangerous. Raeburn was taking criminal chances with the lives of Tom’s friends—and everyone they loved, because anyone around them was also in danger.

“We’ve provided Mercy Callahan protection,” Molina snapped. This wasn’t playful banter. She was reining him in, and he didn’t like it. At all. “Agent Reynolds can take care of himself. If you can’t agree, perhaps the Bureau isn’t a good fit for you after all.”

There it was, then. The choice.

He could hear his aunt Dana’s voice in his mind. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Tom. And then his mother. Do the right thing, even when it’s the hard thing.

He gave a curt nod, knowing he’d continue doing what needed to be done. “I understand.”

“I have your word?” Molina asked, her jaw taut.

He was tempted to cross his fingers behind his back, but that was childish. “I will not feed Gideon and Mercy information in the future. You have my word.”

Molina narrowed her eyes at him. “Why don’t I believe you?”

He managed a thin smile. “I gave you my word. Ma’am.”

There were, of course, so many other ways to get vital information to them. If it was a matter of life and death, if Gideon and Mercy’s safety was on the line, he’d find another way.

“All right, then.” She gave him a sideways glance, sharp as a knife. “What else do you know, Agent Hunter? I take it that you’ve checked out all of the former Eden sites.”

“Of course. The notebook we found in Ephraim’s safe-deposit box had a very accurate map. None of the locations are currently occupied, though it was still valuable to find that map. We learned that their earlier locations are obvious from the sky, but the more recent ones are not. They’ve effectively utilized ground cover, building earth homes. We thought we might locate them through infrared, checking for heat signatures, but so far that’s been a bust.”

Ephraim Burton had left a veritable Eden playbook in his safe-deposit box, with detailed descriptions of all of the Founding Elders’ sins, meticulous records of the cash stored in the offshore accounts, and the map of previous Eden locations. Tom assumed that it was some kind of dead man’s switch, that if he was killed mysteriously, the contents of his box would somehow be made public. And indeed, it had ended up in the hands of the FBI.

“You found the most recent location?”

“Yes, ma’am. But there wasn’t anything there. Nothing living, anyway. We found evidence of animals—a lot of very fresh shit in a variety of sizes. It was still fresh, maybe a few days old. We also found a lot of animal blood. It appears they slaughtered at least some of their farm animals. Maybe they couldn’t take them all. We didn’t miss them by much.”

“Did you tell Miss Callahan and Agent Reynolds that you have a list of the old sites?”

“I told them we’d found the very first Eden, but not the other sites. That would have made them want to explore each one, and I didn’t want them to be seen there in case Pastor and DJ returned for some reason.”

“Why did you tell them about the first site?”

It had been an impulse decision, but he didn’t regret it. “I thought visiting it might provide them some closure.” He’d had personal experience with closure. “The site was cleared of trees and easily spotted by satellite surveillance. I didn’t think Pastor would bring Eden back there.”

“Did they go for closure?”

“Not to my knowledge, ma’am.”

“Anything else?”

“Not really. Mostly I’ve checked off potential suspects. What I know is right here.” He pointed to the bulletin board next to his desk, on which he’d attached photos and maps and documents relating to his Eden search. He had an identical one in the office at his house. “I tracked down DJ Belmont’s surviving family on the off chance he’d hide with them. His uncle Merle Belmont lives about an hour from here in Benicia. He and his wife filed the missing-person report when DJ and his mother went missing when he was four years old. They claim that they haven’t seen him, though, and thought that he’d been dead all these years.”

“You believed them?”

“I did, but you’re welcome to interview them yourself.”

“I might. What else?”

Tom wasn’t offended. He was new. He expected others to check his work, especially on a case as important as this one. “I’ve interviewed