by Karen Rose
Ben. “Benton Travis,” Liza said. The name Pastor had been given at birth.
“Yes. He stole a lot of money from our church, the one in L.A. I didn’t know about it at first, but I didn’t tell anyone when I did. I know that was wrong. Now I’m going to have to tell Hugh. He’s going to be very disappointed in me, but he’ll support me. I hope.” She folded her hands in her lap. “What do you want to know?”
Liza thought Tom would begin with the banker but was stunned when he asked, “Did Pastor know that Waylon fathered your children?”
Margo’s mouth fell open, her laugh brittle. “You certainly go straight to the hard questions, Agent Hunter. No. He never knew. I think . . . I don’t know what he would have done.”
“So you continued your relationship with Waylon after your divorce.”
Margo nodded. “Waylon was my first love.”
“Why did you divorce?” Tom asked.
She sighed. “It was this thing that Ben and Waylon cooked up between them. Ben figured they could start a church and get donations. Then he realized that if he became the minister of an established church—a wealthy one—he could have a steady income for not a lot of work.”
“You were at the L.A. church for ten years,” Tom said. “That’s a long time.”
“Ben found that he liked it. He always believed himself superior to everyone else. Being a pastor let him act out that role. Waylon had all the tattoos and looked big and bad, but he was sweet. Ben was the brains, but he was . . . what’s the word the kids are using? A douchebag.”
Liza had to swallow a startled laugh at hearing the word fall from this stylish woman’s lips.
“He was a born swindler,” Margo went on. “He and Waylon met in prison and . . . I guess Waylon was as snowed by Ben as everyone else. Me included, for a while. By the time we realized what a monster Ben was, it was too late.”
“Waylon brought you to his parents when he helped you escape Eden,” Tom said. “You lived in their house on Elvis Lane.”
Margo nodded. “I was terrified that Ben would come looking for us. I didn’t step foot from that house for years.”
“Did Waylon’s parents know that they were the children’s grandparents?” Liza asked.
“They did. My William and Waylon’s other son, DJ, resembled each other.”
“Did you know that Waylon produced bodies that he found in a ravine and claimed they were yours?” Tom asked abruptly.
Margo gasped, all the color draining from her face. “What? No. That’s impossible.”
“That’s why Pastor didn’t come for you. He believed you were dead,” Tom said. “No one is sure who those people were, but Waylon brought back the remains of a woman and two children.”
“No.” Margo shook her head violently. “No. Waylon would not do that.”
“He did.” Tom was insistent, but gently so. “He did again when Gideon Reynolds escaped eight years after you did.”
“Gideon? I don’t . . .” She looked away, thinking, then her gaze flashed back. “There was a little boy whose mother came to Eden, not long before we left. His name was Gideon.”
Tom nodded. “His younger sister was Mercy. She was only a year old when you escaped. But if you saw that news program on the serial killer, you saw her, too. Mercy Callahan was thirteen when her mother got her out. Mercy was married to Ephraim Burton for a year.”
Margo looked as if she’d be sick. “Not him.”
Her reaction made Liza’s stomach churn, thinking about what Mercy had suffered.
Margo twisted her fingers together, nerves on display. “That’s why I ran. My daughter was going to be twelve. I hated that rule. I tried to get Ben to change it, but he wouldn’t. I knew that my daughter was going to be given to one of those brutes and . . . I couldn’t let that happen. Neither could Waylon. So he got us out.”
“Who made the rule about twelve-year-olds being married?” Tom asked.
“Ben did, but it was because of Ephraim. He got several of the younger girls pregnant. Ben couldn’t say Ephraim was a pedophile, because Founding Elders were important. They were church leaders. So Ben changed the rules so that Ephraim’s raping of young women wasn’t a crime. It was a . . . sacrament.” She spat the word. “I couldn’t stand it, but I also couldn’t change it. Within a few years of being in Eden, it was like the men started believing that women were subhuman. I hadn’t wanted to stay there, hadn’t wanted to go there to begin with, but Ben had promised it would only be temporary. That we could leave when the scandal died down. Maybe six months. A year at the most. But he got used to the power. They all did, I think—the Founding Elders, I mean. Except for Waylon. The others liked having women subservient to them. I begged Ben to revoke the marriage law, not to marry Tracy off when she was still a child. He said he couldn’t make exceptions, even for his own child.” Her face grew hard and angry. “Maybe he did know that the kids weren’t his. I don’t know. I just knew we had to get out. Waylon made it happen.”
“You didn’t report Eden when you escaped,” Liza said.
“Yes, I did!” she cried. “But when I told the police where to find them, they said there was no sign of anyone there. Waylon was angry when I told him. He asked if I wanted all of them to go jail. I did, except for Waylon. He was the only one of the Founding Elders who didn’t have a standing warrant for his arrest. He’d served his time. He wouldn’t have gone back to prison.”
“Unless he’d killed another family to take your place,” Tom said quietly.
Margo whimpered. “He wouldn’t have.”
Tom’s tone remained mild. “At the very least Waylon was selling drugs grown in Eden.”
“Growing a little pot is not the same as murder, Special Agent Hunter,” Margo declared.
Liza frowned, Margo’s words about standing warrants triggering a thought. “All of the Founders got new names. Ben was Herbert when he was the minister of the L.A. church, but he became Pastor in Eden. Edward McPhearson had been Aubrey Franklin, and Ephraim Burton was Harry Franklin. But Waylon kept his given name. Why?”
Tom turned to stare at her, pride in his eyes. “I didn’t think of that.”
Neither had Margo, from the look on her face. “I don’t know,” she murmured.
“Pastor made him the one to do supply runs,” Liza went on. “Waylon sold the drugs. And he had the most recognizable face. He was covered in tattoos, right? Even on his face?”
“Right.” She closed her eyes. “You think that Ben wanted him to get caught?”
Liza thought it was entirely possible. “Do you?”
“It makes sense, doesn’t it? Ben knew I loved Waylon first. He hated that.” Margo reached for a tissue, drying her eyes. “Waylon came to see us every weekend in that house in Benicia. Until one weekend he didn’t show up, and that was it. I waited and waited, but he never came back. It devastated my children, Will especially. He loved Waylon.”
“Did he know that Waylon was his father?” Liza asked.
She shook her head. “He’d always called him ‘uncle.’ But when Waylon never came back, Will felt abandoned. He’d always been an angry child, but he . . . Well, he took his own life.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Liza murmured.
Margo’s smile was small and sad. “Thank you. Eventually, I met Hugh and he offered me a better life. This is going to kill him. I assume that Waylon is dead?”
“He died seventeen years ago,” Tom told her, then abruptly changed gears. “What made you offer Craig Hickman a million dollars?”
Margo jolted. “What?”
“A million dollars is a lot of money,” Tom said. “Why did you offer it to him?”
She was quiet for a moment, struggling to regain her composure. “Waylon put it in an account for me when he helped me escape. I never spent it. I was afraid that Ben would know. When Tracy’s firs
t child was born, I offered her the money, for the baby. She was . . . appalled.”
Margo grew pensive. “I didn’t know that she understood what would have happened to her if she’d turned twelve in Eden, but of course she did. She knew I was scared and hurting, so she never said anything. When I offered her money, though . . . She said it was blood money. That I should give it to someone else, and suggested Hickman. When she’d started college, she’d looked up the whole sordid story of Ben’s embezzlement. She told me to offer Hickman the money. I couldn’t find him, so Tracy contacted that reporter. Erica Mann. She got me in touch with Mr. Hickman. He said he didn’t want my money, that I should donate it. So I did.”
“Where did Waylon get a million dollars?” Tom asked. “Did he steal it from Ben?”
“No, he said it was his share of the money. But Ben wouldn’t have given it to him. He said he’d gotten it through Ben’s financial manager. Ben called him his ‘banker.’ ”
“Do you remember this man’s name?” Tom asked, and Liza held her breath. This was what they’d come for.
“Of course. They were prison friends at Terminal Island. I knew him, too. His name was Daniel Park. He was in for securities fraud. Insider trading or something like that.”
“Waylon had access to Mr. Park?” Tom asked.
“Yes. When we first started Eden, Waylon was the only one to leave—to get supplies. Ben would give him a code to use with Daniel, along with instructions on stock trades. That was how Ben and Daniel communicated. The code changed every time. Ben loved puzzles and he had a . . . what do you call it? The rule that tells how the code will change each time.”
“A cipher?” Tom prompted.
“Yes, a cipher. Waylon figured out the pattern. Ben never did give him enough credit. Treated Waylon like he was dumb. I think Waylon would skim money from Ben’s accounts and tell Daniel to invest it for him, pretending he was acting on Ben’s instruction. Ben was very good with money. Waylon took his stock tips and was able to grow the money he skimmed. He told me that was where the million had come from.”
Skimmed. Margo still was making excuses for the criminals in her life.
Margo looked away, then resolutely back at Tom. “Am I under arrest?”
“Not at this time,” Tom replied.
She huffed out a breath. “I still have to tell Hugh. I hate this.”
Not once, Liza realized, had this woman expressed sorrow for those who hadn’t gotten out. She was only worried about herself.
Tom gave Margo one of his cards, then stood, holding a hand out for Liza. “We’ll leave you to the rest of your day, ma’am,” he said, and they walked out together to Tom’s SUV.
“Well,” Liza said once they were locked in and buckled up. “That was interesting.”
“It was. I need to let Croft and Raeburn know about Daniel Park and then we can grab some lunch. Oh. Good timing,” he said when his phone buzzed with an incoming call. “Hey, Croft. What’s—” He stiffened. “Injuries?”
He pulled back to the curb, listening. He finally nodded. “I’m on my way. I’ll use the flashers and get there faster.” He paused again, looking over his shoulder at the Kitson home. “Yeah, we found her. I got a name to run. Daniel Park. He was in Terminal Island with Pastor and Waylon. He was a financial manager. Handled all of Pastor’s accounts, so aiding and abetting at the very least. I’m hoping Pastor is still using him, but if not, we might be able to use him to find out who Pastor’s financial advisor is now, and that person’s communications might lead us to Eden.” He listened a moment more. “See you soon.” With that, he ended the call and pulled the car back onto the road, on the way to the freeway.
“What happened?” Liza asked.
“Explosion at KZAU. No serious injuries, except for the receptionist, who may have a concussion. Belmont stole some dynamite last night. The KZAU bomb was a small load, like a cherry bomb.”
“So not to maim, but to get everyone out of the station,” Liza said.
His brows went up. “You saw that in Afghanistan?”
“A few times, yes. Was Daisy there?”
“No. She and her cohost were broadcasting from their houses because of Gideon getting shot. They didn’t mention that they weren’t physically in the station until after the explosion.”
Liza’s stomach turned over. “He’s still trying to get to Gideon so that he can get to Mercy.”
“Yeah. We’re gonna need to take a rain check on lunch.”
“I couldn’t eat a bite now anyway. Get us home.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA
MONDAY, MAY 29, 10:55 A.M.
Tom delivered Liza to the Sokolovs’ house because that was where all of the security was. He was directed into the garage, where one of the bays stood empty for secure pickups and drop-offs. As soon as the garage doors were down, Irina burst from the house, Karl on her heels. They opened the passenger door and dragged Liza into their arms.
“Irina was worried,” Karl said over Liza’s head when Tom got out of the SUV. “The bombing at the radio station has us all upside down.”
Karl owned the station, Tom remembered. “Your staff? They’re all right?”
“All but our receptionist, but she’ll be all right soon.” Karl walked around the SUV and clapped Tom on the shoulder, his grin a little sly. “Thank you. I won two hundred bucks.”
Tom rolled his eyes, his cheeks heating. “Yeah. Well. I need to go.”
“Did you eat?” Irina asked.
“No,” Liza said. “We came straight here. Now that I know everyone is okay, I can eat.”
Irina pointed to Tom. “You cost me twenty dollars.”
Liza laughed, the sound musical. “Take me to the food, Irina, and leave poor Tom alone.”
Karl herded them through the laundry room and into the kitchen, which was bursting at the seams. Half of Karl and Irina’s brood was here, as were Mercy’s friends from New Orleans.
Irina shooed him toward the table. “I’ll get you a plate. We had a late breakfast.”
Tom pulled Liza’s chair out for her and looked around. “Where’s Jeff?”
“Asleep,” Zoya said. “He was up all night doing something for you.”
“He didn’t tell you?” Tom asked, surprised.
“No,” Zoya pouted. “I was annoyed, but he said he didn’t have permission to share that. Just that you two were—” She waggled her brows. “You know.”
Catcalls followed. Tom thought the seclusion was getting to them. They were a punchy crowd. “He helped us locate Pastor’s wife,” Tom said.
Silence descended as every eye met his. At least they weren’t teasing him anymore.
Mercy exhaled unsteadily. “What?”
Tom sat next to Liza, nodding his thanks when Irina gave them each a plate full of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. “Jeff helped us locate Pastor’s wife,” he repeated.
“But . . .” Gideon swallowed hard and met his sister’s gaze. “I guess she wasn’t dead, either.”
“I guess not,” Mercy murmured.
Rafe scowled. “Jeff should have told us.”
“No,” Irina said, sitting down with her ever-present tea. “He did the right thing.”
“Tell us about Marcia,” Gideon said quietly. “What did she tell you?”
Tom glanced at Liza. “You can tell them. I need to eat and run.”
Eating faster than his mother would have approved of, he listened as Liza shared what they’d learned. When she got to the part about the banker, he cleared his throat, and she glided past it so smoothly that he was certain she could read his mind.
“It doesn’t sound like you cared for Pastor’s wife,” Daisy said to Liza.
Liza made a face. “She seemed selfish. She did report Eden once she’d gotten her kids out, but the community had already
moved on to a different location. At least that’s something.”
“What’s the next step, Tom?” Karl asked. “Do you have any leads on Belmont?”
“Nothing that you didn’t find out the hard way,” Tom said. “He stole a box of explosives from a business partner.”
Irina abruptly set her cup on the table. “He has more?”
“Yes.” Tom wasn’t sure if that was classified, but this family needed to be aware. “Be very careful about anything that’s delivered, even if it’s something you ordered. Raeburn said that he’d keep FBI presence here at your house. Not as many as yesterday, but you’ll still have protection.” He stood. “I need to go now. Liza, a word please?”
She looked worried as she followed him into the laundry room. “What did I—”
He didn’t let her finish, closing the door and then crushing her mouth with his. She hummed deep in her throat, her arms winding around his neck. As kisses went, it was pretty damn good.
She was panting when he backed away, and he was hard. “Keep yourself safe,” he said roughly, as his phone began to buzz. “Hey, Croft. Did you find Daniel Park?”
“Not yet,” Croft told him. “I’m texting you an address. Come there instead.”
“What is it? Who lives there?”
Liza’s eyes widened as she grew more alarmed. But she said nothing.
“Stephanie Stack,” Croft answered. “She was Tony Ward’s first grade teacher. Now she’s dead. Two bullets to the head, like the nurse and the woman he killed Saturday night.”
“Fuck. What was he looking for?” Then he knew. “Addresses. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Tom ended the call, then kissed Liza one more time. “Stay here. I need you to be safe.”
He could see that she wanted to ask more questions, but she nodded. “I will. I promise.”
