from the Sokolovs’ house to his duplex in Rocklin. It was a tidy two-story, split down the middle into two separate units. They shared the garage and the backyard. He’d bought it after his first visit with the real estate agent partly because it would allow him to live close to the field office. But mostly because Liza had loved the backyard and a duplex allowed him to keep her close without stomping on her privacy.
She could come and go as she pleased. An image of Mike the Groper flitted across his mind and he wanted to snarl. But he didn’t, because she could also date as she pleased.
I don’t own her, he told himself firmly.
But you could. The sly whisper was barely a blip of a thought but was enough to steal his breath. No. God, no. He’d never own her. He’d never own anyone. His own father had tried to own his mother, using violence to get his own way.
No, not his father. The man named Rob Winters was his sperm donor only, and when he’d died in prison, Tom had been so damn glad. Max Hunter was his father in every way that counted. A good man never owned anyone.
Max Hunter was the kind of man Tom had always aspired to be.
Thinking of Max sent a pang of homesickness straight to Tom’s heart. I need to call home.
“Hey, Hunter.” Croft reached across the console to snap her fingers next to his face.
Tom startled, his hands clenching on the steering wheel until he realized she’d been trying to get his attention for at least a minute.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “My mind was wandering.”
“I’ll bet it was,” Croft said dryly. “I’ve been saying your name for a whole hour.”
He laughed. “We’ve only been driving for five minutes.”
“Fine. So maybe I exaggerated a little.”
Tom shook his head good-naturedly. “So what did you find out?”
“The food truck with Belmont’s license plates still has them. They are standard DMV issue. You were right about Belmont making a copy.”
“Not a shock,” Tom murmured. “The sign was a fake, too. ‘Adam and Eve’s Plumbing’ is just an Eden pun.”
Croft made a face. “And a bad one at that. The bastard is cocky, isn’t he?”
“He’s operated under the radar for his whole life. Never had to worry about consequences. But he will,” Tom vowed.
“Your mouth to God’s ears.” Croft was quiet for a moment, studying her phone. “You’re going to trace Cameron Cook’s e-mail this afternoon?”
“I’m going to try. I’m assuming they’re using a VPN and proxy servers, which makes it more complicated. Amos saw a satellite dish at the last Eden settlement, right before he escaped with Abigail, so that adds additional network parameters I have to take into account. But if I can dig through the layers of proxy servers, I’ll be able to find their IP address, which—as long as their computer is connected—will give me their actual location even if Hayley Gibbs isn’t able to e-mail Cameron again.”
Croft’s brows lifted. “I’m surprised that Amos knew what a satellite dish was. He’d been in Eden from the beginning, right?”
“Yes, he joined a few months after the community was founded by Pastor. But there were personal satellite dishes back then, mostly in rural areas for TV reception.”
“Amos was so young back then,” she said sadly. “He lost a huge portion of his adult life.”
“Also his family legacy. He sold the land he’d inherited and donated the proceeds to Pastor’s church. It was a sizable chunk of change. Just one of many donations that Eden’s grown into a buttload of cash.”
“Fifty million bucks,” Croft said softly. “But why does DJ need to kill Mercy Callahan? I mean, if he doesn’t want to share the cash, why not simply kill Pastor to get the money?”
“Good question. We do know that DJ tried to kill Mercy once before, but failed.”
“When her mother smuggled her out of Eden. DJ killed her mother.”
Tom nodded. “Right. But we assumed that DJ thought Mercy was dead, or he would have come looking for her years ago to keep her from spilling the beans about Eden. If Pastor finds out that Mercy isn’t dead . . .” He shrugged.
“Then DJ has a lot of explaining to do and Pastor might punish him somehow.”
“From what we know of Eden, punishments are severe, especially for betrayal. It’s likely DJ would be killed and the congregation told that he’d met with an accident. Either way, it’s unlikely he’d get any of the fifty million.”
“No