has a locket,” Liza said. “I’ve seen it. Inside is a photo of her—a baby picture really. She’s twelve and she’s with this guy named Ephraim Burton. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”
Pastor’s demeanor changed instantly from kindly grandfather to furious sociopath. “What are you talking about?”
“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