Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) - Karen Rose Page 0,89

the articles.

That was good. But also bad. It was good that Eden wasn’t on anyone’s radar, so if Pastor muttered it in his sleep, the rehab staff wouldn’t know what it meant. However, the Feds knew about Eden. Gideon, Mercy, and Amos had to have told them. That they were holding the knowledge from the press didn’t bode well at all. The only reference to Eden that he’d seen had been a picture of one of the lockets. The locket had come up in another case, having belonged to a victim of a serial killer who’d killed one of Ephraim’s former wives.

The wife that Ephraim had claimed died while trying to escape. The wife whose “body” he’d brought back, too decomposed to identify. In other words, he’d lied. Like they all did.

DJ would have loved for Pastor to hear about Ephraim’s lies, to keep him angry about Ephraim and not angry at DJ, but that same news story had featured photos of Mercy Callahan. It would be like shooting himself in the face.

He looked up to see that Coleen had jumped back at least three feet, her palm pressed to her chest, which rose and fell rapidly. “You scared me to death.”

“Don’t sneak up on me,” he warned.

“I was trying to wake you up.”

“Do not sneak up on me,” he repeated slowly. “For any reason.” He’d learned to defend himself the hard way. “The last guy who did that didn’t survive.” He’d been a drug dealer who’d snuck up on DJ, trying to attack while he’d been asleep.

Coleen looked shaken. “He’s awake and asking for you.”

DJ slowly got to his feet, rolling his head until his neck cracked. “On my way.” To His Majesty, he added silently, still furious over Pastor’s little code word stunt the night before. Get my hopes up and then laugh at me? Fucker’s going down.

He’d known for years that Pastor had memorized the access codes. It was the old man’s way of ensuring he never typed a password into the computer. Normally, he went off by himself to call his banker, only using the computer to research stock trades. His banker handled that, too.

There had to be a way to get access to that account.

DJ entered the recovery room, where Pastor was lying on a bed, hooked up to several machines. A cannula provided oxygen into his nose. He was breathing on his own, though. His skin was pale, but not nearly as bad as it had been.

“You look better.”

“I feel like shit,” Pastor muttered. “Did you talk to the doctor?”

“No. He might have spoken to Coleen. Why?” Was there more wrong? Was Pastor dying of something else? One can only hope, he thought dryly.

“I’m not dying,” Pastor snapped.

DJ wondered if his expression was that transparent. “I’m glad.”

“I wonder if you are.” Pastor gestured at him. “Come closer. I don’t want to yell.”

As if you could. The old man’s breaths were too labored to do much more than whisper.

“I’m going to be in the rehab facility for six weeks.”

DJ blinked, shocked. “What?”

No. No fucking way. A week he could have handled. He could have kept Pastor off the TV and online news for a week. Six weeks? Hell no.

“That’s what the doctor said. Six weeks. I have a broken arm and a few broken ribs. My knee is toast and I have a concussion. My femur is broken in two places. I’m going to have to learn to walk again. So six weeks.”

DJ opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Wow” was all he could muster.

“I want you back in Eden. Get the people to a better location. The caves are killing them.”

“What about Coleen?”

“She’s going to stay with me, at least until I’m comfortable with this rehabilitation center the doctor was going on about. I want you to make sure the members stay calm. You stay put once you’ve moved them.”

“All right,” DJ said quietly. He had no intention of going back to Eden until he’d eliminated Mercy Callahan. He also had no intention of telling this to Pastor.

“I want you to bring Joshua in,” Pastor added, then coughed.

DJ held a cup of water so that the old man could sip from a straw. “In where?” he asked, being deliberately obtuse.

Pastor glared at him out of watery eyes. “Idiot,” he wheezed. “You know what I mean.”

“And if he objects on moral grounds?” It was unlikely, but one never knew. Joshua was a pompous prick who’d taken well to keeping multiple wives who satisfied his