"Rifles. For hunting purposes."
"Who?"
"Lazarus and Henry. But neither of them would do something like this. They aren't killers. And in case you're wondering, the RCMP already tested both rifles for gunshot residue. Neither one has been used recently. And the bullets don't match the wound on the woman from the incinerator."
How the hell had Ben missed that report? "You have any enemies?"
Christiansen let out a grunt. "I'm sure I do. We live a different life out here, away from technology and impropriety. Not everyone agrees with our lifestyle."
"Any phone calls or threatening letters?"
"No. And no one has stormed our gates either."
"What about people you've exiled?"
"I don't keep track, but I can give you a few names."
Christiansen strode toward the desk. Seconds later, he handed Ben a piece of paper with three names.
"All three of these people are in the Missing Persons Database," Ben said. "I received a list this morning."
"They were exiled from here. Where they went after, I have no idea."
"Tell me about these three."
"Cooper Prescott stayed with us a week but was caught stealing from the cabins. He was black—"
"Ebonic. That's the politically correct term nowadays."
"PC terms aside, Agent Roberts, Cooper was exiled about four months ago. Raylene Mackenzie was exiled last year because she refused to stay on her medication. She was schizophrenic and volatile, and many of the people feared her. And Nora Finnegan left us about two months ago."
"Wait, I know that name." Ben checked his 'com. "We have a DNA match to one of the bodies in the woods."
"I'm sad to hear that. Nora was a tough case. Her daughter, Paige, was killed in a hit-and-run, and Nora took to drugs to escape. She came here over a year ago. Took some time but finally got clean and was doing great. She became our van driver, heading into town for groceries and odd tasks. Then we discovered she was using the Sanctuary van to deal drugs. This was especially hard on her family."
"How do you know that?"
"Her husband is Amos Finnegan. He and Eric, their son, came here hoping to reunite with Nora. But she was already gone by then. I guess now we know why she disappeared."
"Why didn't Amos and Eric go back home?"
"They found a home here and maybe a connection to Nora."
Ben observed the man for a moment. Christiansen seemed forthcoming enough, even saddened by Nora's death.
"What happened after you discovered Nora was dealing?"
"She was exiled. That's when Lazarus took over the driving."
"Anyone else exiled in the past month?"
"Honestly, there've been too many who came for a few days and left. I don't recall them all."
"I understand there was another woman—Jennifer Phillips."
"Oh yes. Jenny was given a choice to repent or leave. She was exiled about a week ago. I don't recall what day exactly."
"And her crime?"
"She slept with one of the men. We do not condone premarital sex."
"Maybe you should punish the men," Ben said dryly. "They seem to be getting off. Literally."
"I deal with my people as I see fit, Agent Roberts." Christiansen dropped the pen on the table for emphasis. "Are we done?"
"Can I get a glass of water?"
Christiansen blinked, taken aback. "Certainly. I'll be right back."
Once the man was gone, Ben removed his gloves and scooped up the pen. It was an expensive one, with gold plating and a rifle emblazoned on the side.
The images came fast—a long metal cylinder and a bank vault door.
Money again?
"Here you go, Agent Roberts," Christiansen said when he returned.
When he handed the glass to Ben, their bare fingers touched, rewarding Ben with a final vision—bloody hands. The message in that was obvious. The man had blood on his hands. But whose?
"What is involved when you exile someone, Mr. Christiansen?"
"It's very simple. The person to be banished is told to meet us by the gate and bring only the clothes they are wearing and whatever they came to Sanctuary with."
"And by 'us' you mean…"
"Our community, with the exception of the younger children. Exile must be a public statement. It helps us maintain order and peace."
"What happens next?"
"Lazarus drives them into the city and leaves them there."
"Into Mission?"
Christiansen shrugged. "Mission, Port Coquitlam, Vancouver—they decide."
"So you dump them in the city with only the clothes on their back and a few possessions? How are they supposed to survive?"
"That is no longer my concern. Those who are exiled have lost the right to my compassion."
Ben curled his mouth in disdain. "Doesn't that go against the preaching of forgiveness?"
"Agent Roberts, we often must do what is best for the whole, not for the one. At Sanctuary, we give everyone an opportunity to change their lives, but those who cannot walk God's path must leave, so as not to blemish the ones who are living in the light of the Lord." Christiansen glared at him, his words dripping with bitterness. "I understand you live a life of darkness with what you see and do, but that is not the fate of those at Sanctuary. We don't live by your rules but by God's rules."
"And your God tells you to exile people who come here seeking help?"
"We are all tested. Some of us are found wanting."
"And they're discarded," Ben said, standing. "Thank you, Mr. Christiansen. This has been very enlightening."
"Grace!" Christiansen shouted, impatience written all over his face.
His wife scurried into the room.
"Show Agent Roberts to the door."
"That's okay, Mr. Christiansen," Ben said. "I can show myself out."
Back in the surveillance van, he released a slow growl. Men like Christiansen—ones with God complexes—infuriated him beyond reason. However, one good thing had materialized from his visit. Christiansen's composed demeanor was swiftly disintegrating.
And I'm going to find out what he's hiding.
20
Jasi and Brandon had been at the forest gravesites for over an hour, but without a victim whose death was caused by fire, Jasi's psychic gift was useless. And her profiling skills resulted in the same conclusions as Ben's—multiple victims, multiple forms of murder, possible multiple killers. Some bodies had been coated with lye and only miniscule particles of bone remained in the graves. Soil, lye and DNA samples had been taken from all graves earlier in the morning and then rushed to Ops.
"We may as well head back," she told Brandon.
"What next?"
"We'll brainstorm with Natassia and Ben."
In the trees a few yards away cracking and snapping could be heard. Someone was approaching, and they weren't being quiet about it.
Two of the agents reached for their handguns.
"No guns," Jasi warned. "Whoever this is, they're not trying to be covert, so it's not our guy. Could be a hiker from the park."
The bushes parted, revealing a young man in his early twenties with copper hair and an innocent-looking face covered in freckles.
She didn't recognize him from Sanctuary.
"A-hem!" she said, clearing her throat.
"Whew!" The kid bent over to catch his breath. "You startled me."
"And you are?"
He fumbled around in his jacket, attempting to withdraw a black wallet. It dropped on the ground instead. "Oops, sorry about that." He scooped up the wallet, dusted it off and handed it to her.
"Agent Jason Anthony," she read. "What are you doing out here?"
"Agent Prushenko told me to find you guys and guard the crime scene." He took a few steps and stumbled over a tree root.
"Lucky us." To the other agents, she said, "Report to me immediately if anyone other than RCMP or CFBI comes here. Last thing we need is the media lurking in the bush
es."
Agent Anthony snickered.
"You sure we should leave him here?" Brandon whispered. "He looks a little green. And I don't mean in a new way."
She studied the kid, who was doing his best to not look at the human remains scattered on the forest floor. She heaved another sigh. "Agent Anthony, you're with us."
"But Agent Prushenko said—"
"I'm the agent in charge."
"Yes, ma'am."
"That's Agent McLellan."
The kid hung his head. "Sorry."
She strode off, with Brandon at her side and Agent Anthony stumbling along behind them.
"Agent Anthony, have you been inside a cult before?" she asked.
"No, ma—no."
"They have their own way of living, so we'll do our best to respect that. But if you do see anything out of the ordinary, pull me aside and let me know."
"Does that go for out here too?"
She stopped dead in her tracks and faced him. "Why? Did you see something?"
"Well, it's more what I didn't see."
"Continue."
"All this forest here is supposed to be bear country, right? But I grew up on a farm, and bears were always on our property. I'd see bear poop and clawed trees everywhere I went, not to mention dead animal carcasses."
"What's your point?" Brandon cut in.
The kid scratched his head. "You see any carcasses, bear poop or clawed trees anywhere around here?"
"No, but this is a massive forest."
"I thought they said there were bears in the area and that's why they stayed inside the night the woman in the incinerator died."
"He's right, Brandon," Jasi said. "We haven't seen any indication that a bear has been in these woods."
"Why would they lie about the bear?" Agent Anthony asked.
"That's what we're going to find out. Good work, Agent Anthony."
The kid blushed.
"He wasn't made an agent for nothing," she said to Brandon.
Making their way back to the surveillance van, Jasi opened the side door and almost collided with Ben. "We're back."
"Come on in. Natassia just got back a half hour ago. We're going over more documents." Ben glanced over her shoulder. "Who's he?"
"Hey there, Jay," Natassia called out before Jasi could answer.
Agent Anthony waved once. "Uh…hi, Agent Prushenko."
Ben stood aside as Jasi and Agent Anthony entered the van.
"I'll stay outside," Brandon said. When Jasi gave him a questioning look, he added, "It's a bit crowded in there."
She left the door open for fresh air and so Brandon wouldn't feel excluded.
"What did you get from Christiansen?" she asked.
Ben filled her in and showed her the paper with the names of the three exiles. "They match missing persons cases. And a DNA match came in five minutes ago. Cooper Prescott."
She flinched at the man's surname. It was the same as her best friend's. "He's one of the bodies in the woods?"
Ben nodded. "Christiansen said Prescott left Sanctuary four months ago."
"He didn't get very far." She sucked in a breath. "Any relatives in the area?"
"He's originally from Halifax. Most of his family lives on the east coast. He's survived by his father and one brother. I'll notify the family."
Comforted by the fact that she wouldn't be conveying more bad news to Cameron, she peeked over her shoulder at Agent Anthony. He was typing up a report on the laptop.
She lowered her voice. "Ben, did you see anything when you talked to Christiansen?"
"Two hits off a pen with a rifle emblem on the side," he said. "I saw a metal cylinder and a bank vault. After I touched his hand, I saw blood on his hands."
"That's certainly telling."
"The bizarre thing is he doesn't really fit the profile of a serial killer. Sure, he's arrogant and persuasive, but he doesn't exhibit the cold-heartedness normally associated with psychopathy. In fact, it's the opposite. Giles Christiansen seems to genuinely care about people."
"I'd care too if people were investing six figures so I can live by my own rules."
"How the blood fits in exactly, I don't know yet."
Jasi thought of something. "Natassia, how did things go with the kids?"
Natassia eyed Agent Anthony, who was still reading. "Amanda and Eric had a special cave somewhere near the gravesite. And she followed Sheral one night, but I'm not sure when exactly. She saw something else in the woods too. She called it a 'beast.'"
"Human or animal?"
"I'm thinking human."
"Excuse me," Agent Anthony interrupted from the back of the van. "But if those two kids were unconscious, how do you know all this?"
"She woke up for a minute," Natassia said. "Right before she coded."
Jasi knew Natassia was lying, but the kid needed a believable explanation.
We'll have to be more careful.
"Agent Anthony, can you do me a favor?"
"Uh…okay."
"Go outside and watch the road for any vehicles headed our way."
The kid hesitated. "But there are two agents out there already."
"They're guarding the gate. I want you to walk down the road to where it splits. If you see any vehicles, call me." She handed him a card with her 'com number on it.
"Okay." He scrunched his face in confusion but did what he was told.
After he'd left, Jasi let out a slow breath. "The kid may be young, but he's extremely alert."
She told them about Agent Anthony's keen observations in the woods.
"No bear feces or claw marks anywhere?" Ben asked.
Jasi shook her head. "And he noticed this right away. We'll have to be careful around him. As far as he's concerned we're just regular CFBI agents."
Brandon poked his head in the doorway. "You're anything but 'regular,' Agent McLellan."
"You need something to do?" she asked.
"Oh yeah."
"Incorrigible." She looked at Ben and Natassia. "See what I have to deal with?"
"Don't expect us to feel sorry for you," Natassia said. "Have you seen the bed here?" She pointed to the cushions at the back. "How's the cabin?"
"Believe me, I'd feel safer in here than at Sanctuary."
"Has someone threatened you?" Ben demanded.
"Not directly. Every now and then someone says something that resembles a warning." She shrugged. "I could be reading too much into it."
"We have Christiansen's detailed financials," Natassia said, changing the subject. "Want to go over them? Maybe you'll see something we missed."
"Sure." She glanced at Brandon. "We'll sit up front."
Brandon opened the passenger door and climbed in, while Jasi slid into the driver's seat.
"Here." Natassia handed her a manila folder.
Jasi opened the folder and gave half of the documents to Brandon. She studied the first page in her pile. It listed every person or company who had donated money to Christiansen's cause, one for which he'd actually obtained charitable status. Beside each donor was the total to date they'd given to Sanctuary.
"What are you thinking?" Brandon asked.
"Money seems to be a common element in two visions. Ben saw six zeroes when he touched the headless body in the woods and then a bank vault when he picked up Christiansen's pen. Big money is involved somehow. I think we need to focus on the major investors. That would coincide with official looking documents too."
She scrolled through the list of investors, calling off each name while Brandon looked for the coordinating report. She recognized a few names from the news. There were six major investors.
She picked up the ten-page report on the first investor and flipped through the pages, noting various photographs of a dark-haired man hobnobbing with influential leaders in the community.
One photo made her breath stop.
She handed the papers to Brandon. "Becket Hawley, philanthropist and proud VPD supporter. You see him all over the ne
ws. If he's not traveling, he's attending high-profile events." She pointed to the photo. "Here he is at a police convention standing next to Pop, back when my father was still a cop. And there's Uncle Paxton next to Pop."
"Brothers?"
She shook her head. "Uncle Paxton is one of Pop's oldest friends."
"Maybe they can give us some insight into Hawley."
"I'll call them once we’re done with this list." She set Hawley's report aside.
The second report was on Van Harvard, a popular motivational speaker, who raked in big bucks selling his money-making schemes and spiritual enlightenment camps.
The third report was on a man she'd never heard of.
"Either of you know about an Oliver Gathmann?" she called out.
"Who?" Natassia said, moving behind her.
"Oliver Gathmann. He's an investor. Have you heard of him?"
"I met him. He was snooping around Sanctuary's gate this morning."
Jasi's head jerked up. "Did you question him?"
"Yeah, but he didn't give me much."
"You think he was here checking up on his investment?"
"Absolutely. He also gave me the impression he wanted to find out what we know."
"Why wouldn't he just pick up the phone and call Christiansen?"
"That's the question of the day."
Jasi surveyed the report. "Says here he owns a company that builds earthships."
"I've heard of those," Brandon said. "Earthship homes are usually built into a hillside or berm."
"Who'd want to live in a house that's underground?"
"Environmentalists. With solar and wind power, and using sustainable resources and natural heat from beneath the surface of the earth, you could live completely off-grid. No more utility bills."
She scowled. "I'll keep my loft apartment and my bills, thank you."
"You want Gathmann brought in for questioning?" he asked.
"He was in a vehicle with Washington plates," Natassia said. "He's probably across the border by now."
"I'll call Matthew," Ben said, joining them. "We'll get a warrant to track Gathmann's GPS."
"Let's take a closer look at Mole Tech while we're at it," Jasi said.
Ben's eyes flared. "What did you say?"
"We'll look at his company."
"Mole Tech, you said."
"Yeah?"
"Mole. A small black animal?"
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