by Karen Rose
The two talked for an hour while Coleen quietly knitted a scarf and Liza finished the BeDazzled hospital gown. She tried to find a way to ask them where Eden was located, but every time she or Brooklyn brought up Pastor and Coleen’s home, Coleen skillfully changed the subject. So Liza continued BeDazzling, working the red gems into a heart and adding Brooklyn’s name underneath using smaller gems.
She lingered at the table as long as she could, aware that this was an opportunity for Tom and the FBI to study Pastor—his speech, his mannerisms, and the sheer charisma rolling off the man. Liza could now understand how he’d attracted his followers.
He honestly appeared to care.
Unless he was allowing twelve-year-old girls to be raped in the name of marriage or allowing thirteen-year-old boys to be raped in the name of apprenticeship. Or approving the murder of anyone who disagreed with him. Or making women into slaves. Or stealing the legacies and life savings of those who believed in his smiles and lies.
Finally, she stood and gathered Brooklyn’s things. “I think it’s time Miss Brooklyn had her lunch and a nap. Say goodbye to Pastor.”
Brooklyn appeared ready to argue, but nodded. “I am tired. Can I see you tomorrow?”
“I’m here for at least six weeks,” Pastor said.
“Me too,” Brooklyn said glumly. “If I don’t die first,” she added matter-of-factly.
Coleen gasped softly, looking to Liza for confirmation.
“Your treatments are working,” Liza said. “So I’m going to call horse hockey on that, okay?”
Brooklyn grinned impishly. “Is horse hockey like bullshit?”
Liza shook her head. “And on that note, we are going back to your room.”
“Can we get a picture?” Brooklyn asked, clearly trying to delay their departure. “I like to show them to my mom when she visits.” She patted her tablet, on which she’d been watching BeDazzler videos on YouTube. “Pleeeease?”
Coleen gave Pastor a nervous look. Pastor smiled. “Of course. Just for us, though, right?”
“Oh yes,” Brooklyn said, genuinely serious. “There’s hippo stuff.”
Coleen looked confused. “Hippo stuff?”
“She means HIPAA,” Liza explained. “It protects the privacy of patients.”
“Oh.” Coleen smiled thinly. “Of course.”
“You get in the picture, too, Liza!” Brooklyn insisted.
Liza positioned herself behind the group, putting the tablet in selfie mode. “Say cheese!”
“Cheese!” Brooklyn belted out.
Liza snapped the photo, then put the tablet in Brooklyn’s bag. She’d send a copy to Agent Raeburn ASAP. “All right. It’s really time to go now. Say goodbye to Pastor, Brooklyn.”
The child waved merrily at Pastor and Coleen. “Goodbye! See you tomorrow!”
See you in hell, Liza thought, but made herself smile. “Tomorrow.”
She pushed Brooklyn back to her room, thinking that was all she’d see of Pastor for the day. She got Brooklyn’s lunch and sat down with her tablet, as Brooklyn had access to the Internet. Liza didn’t know who was monitoring usage and didn’t want to get caught.
“Brooklyn, do you want to send this picture to your mom?”
“Yes, please. Her e-mail address is under Mom.”
Liza found the contact and blind carbon copied herself before sending, then deleted the e-mail from the sent folder. She knew from Tom that a simple delete didn’t permanently delete a file, but it would be gone at a cursory glance.
She was encouraging Brooklyn to eat her lunch when Nurse Innes arrived a half hour later.
“Miss Barkley? May I have a word? In private?”
Shit. What had she done? Had she been found out? Had they seen the e-mail she’d sent? “Of course. Brooklyn, I need you to stop playing with that food and actually eat some of it. You need your energy if we’re going to BeDazzle again.”
Brooklyn was rolling her eyes as Liza joined Nurse Innes in the hallway.
Innes pulled Brooklyn’s door closed. “You’ve had a bit of an assignment change,” the woman said. “You’ll still be working with Brooklyn, but when she’s sleeping, you’re to report to Mr. Alcalde’s room.”
Liza got a bad feeling in her gut. “Of course, but who is Mr. Alcalde?”
Innes looked at her warily. “The man you just spent an hour talking to.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t think he said his last name, so I was confused. What will my duties be?”
“He wants you to read to him and talk to him. I think he likes your voice.”
Liza made herself smile. “I’ll be happy to.”
“Meet him in the solarium in an hour. That’ll give you time to get Brooklyn settled for the afternoon. Nurse Williams can take it from there. Mr. Alcalde has you until four.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Liza stood where she was as the woman walked away, then muttered quietly, hoping that Tom was listening, “I’ll do my best to get him to talk about Eden.”
TWENTY-NINE
SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA
TUESDAY, MAY 30, 11:30 A.M.
That’s him?” Tom asked, joining Croft at the two-way window to the interview room.
Croft nodded. “Daniel Park. He owns a chain of hotels, one here in Sacramento.”
Daniel Park was fit and looked far younger than his seventy years. He wore a bespoke suit that had to have cost a few thousand dollars. He appeared bored and was looking at his phone.
“How did you get him here?”
“A guest filed an assault complaint against one of his employees at the hotel here in the city. It was a while back but has gone uninvestigated. We asked that he meet us to discuss it. I’ll make sure the actual complaint is followed up on. You okay? And your . . . friend, too?”
“I’m fine. Do I wish she weren’t there? Of course. But she’s capable of taking care of herself, or Molina and Raeburn wouldn’t have put her in this role.”
“Just checking. Mr. Park doesn’t have a license to do financial transactions, because of his prior record, but I found a few recommendations from satisfied customers online, so he appears to be operating without one. He served five years for insider trading and tax fraud at Terminal Island. He was there with Pastor, Waylon, and Edward McPhearson.”
“I want to get his cell phone records.”
“What do you expect to find?” Croft asked.
“Pastor’s wife said that back in the day, he’d give Waylon a onetime access code and instructions for Mr. Park, telling him what stock to buy. Waylon would make the call when he drove into town for supplies. The code was ever-changing and derived from a cipher that Pastor had developed. He’s a numbers guy.”
“You told us this in the debriefing yesterday evening. So why Park’s cell phone records?”
“Because back when Waylon would contact Park, when Marcia was still in Eden, there were no cell phones. If Park is still doing business for Pastor—”
“That’s a big ‘if,’ ” Croft interrupted.
“Agreed,” Tom allowed. “However, we know that Pastor has a cell phone now, because Amos saw him talking on it before he escaped Eden. If Park is still doing Pastor’s bidding, I think Pastor would be making his own calls. Regardless, though, someone made two transfers from Eden’s offshore accounts to pay for Pastor’s care at Sunnyside.”
“You’re right. If Park’s involved, he would have received the phone call sometime late Wednesday or early Thursday. But that’s not going to be enough for a warrant.”
“I’m hoping we can goad him into giving us enough for one. We know where Pastor is right now. So does Park. We can tell Park we have Pastor in custody and he’s claiming that Park has been giving him financial advice without a license. That’s an issue with the SEC.”
“Especially since he’s already served time. An
d if he has records of Pastor’s offshore activity, we can charge him with perpetrating fraud on his congregation and illegally profiting from the sale of drugs. It’s always the money, isn’t it?”
“It’s an adage for a reason,” Tom said, “but I’m more interested in tracing his phone calls. If Pastor’s called him recently, it could be a way to pinpoint Eden’s current location.”
“Even better. Okay, let’s do this.” She texted Raeburn to let him know they were getting started. “Raeburn’s going to witness,” she explained.
“Before we go in there, have you got any updates on Kowalski or his wife and kids?”
Croft sighed. “We found Angelina’s Jag. It was valeted at San Francisco airport. She boarded a flight to Paris last night—her, Tony, the two-year-old, and their dog. Big Rottweiler named Lucky. Paris police put a cruiser outside the town house she’s renting.”
“But Kowalski didn’t join her?”
“Nope. He’s still in the wind. Part of me is glad that she’s okay. Most of me thinks that she benefited financially from her husband’s crimes and should be punished.”
“I may be a little biased on that front,” Tom admitted. “My father was a murderer, but my mom didn’t know. She just wanted to get out because he was beating her—and me. She tried to tell people about the abuse, but no one believed her. So maybe, once we’ve closed this case against DJ and Pastor, we find out what Angelina knew.”
“Raeburn’s already got someone doing the digging, but you’re right. We need to focus on Pastor and DJ right now.”
Raeburn entered, quickly closing the door to keep the light out. “You two have a plan?”
“We do,” Croft said.
“Then go.”
Daniel Park looked up when they entered. “It’s about time,” he said impatiently. “I came when you asked. The least you can do is respect my time.”
“Our apologies, sir,” Croft said dutifully. “I’m working on getting an updated statement from the victim, so we’re not ready to discuss the assault.”
Park was furious. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’ll have your badge numbers. Now.”
Tom just looked at him without saying anything for long seconds until Park’s fury became discomfort. Then wariness.
“What’s this about?” Park asked.
“Benton Travis,” Tom said.
Park stiffened, fear flickering in his eyes. “I don’t know who that is.”
“It has been a while,” Tom allowed. “Way back in your Terminal Island days.”
Park scowled. “I served my time.”
Tom smiled. “And you’re still serving Benton Travis.”
“This is ridiculous. You can’t hold me here.” He started to get up.
“He says differently,” Tom said blandly, and Park blanched.
“That’s a lie. He wouldn’t.”
“How would you know?” Croft asked curiously. “You don’t remember him.”
Park lowered himself back to his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He said nothing.
“We talked to him this morning,” Tom went on. “You know, at Sunnyside Oaks. Fancy place. He’s getting good care there, by the way. In case you’re interested.”
Park had paled. “You’re lying.”
“Call him yourself and ask him,” Tom challenged, knowing Park would do no such thing. To do so would be to admit that he was still in a business relationship with a wanted man.
“Have you arrested him yet?” Park demanded.
Tom chuckled at his expression. The man had realized he was damned if he did acknowledge Pastor and damned if he didn’t, because Pastor had—allegedly—rolled on him.
“We will be arresting him,” Tom promised. “We agreed to allow him to finish his convalescence at Sunnyside Oaks before we took him into custody if he gave us names. Yours was one of those names.”
“I want a lawyer,” Park said defiantly.
Tom nodded. “That’s fine.” They had enough right now to get a warrant for his phone records and maybe even his bank records. “You’re not charged yet, though. I mean, it might be as simple as aiding and abetting a fugitive of the law. Because he was charged back in L.A.”
“That was thirty years ago,” Park said. “Statute of limitations ran out decades ago.”
“No statute of limitations on embezzlement,” Tom said. “But you knew that. You’re a money guy. When you talk to your lawyer, make sure he knows that we’ll also be looking at all of your banking transactions. If you’ve accepted any payment from Benton Travis for any money management, then you’ve violated the SEC’s rules. Considering you’re a felon and all.”
“There is a statute of limitations on that,” Park said smugly. “Ten years.”
“Not if it’s been ongoing for thirty,” Tom said. He glanced at Croft. “Is he free to go?”
“Of course. We can get to his phone and bank records, even if he flees. But if he flees, he’s in even bigger trouble.”
Park swallowed hard. “What are you offering?”
“We can’t offer anything,” Croft said. “We’re just humble federal agents. But the federal attorneys will be chatting with you, if you have time to stick around. Sit tight.” She rose, looking very badass. “Agent Hunter?”
They left Park in the interview room and found Raeburn in the viewing room, chuckling.
“ ‘We’re just humble federal agents,’ ” he repeated. “I really love watching you conduct an interview, Croft. It’s like . . . art. And you also did well, Hunter. Nice job.”
“Thank you, sir,” Tom said, pleased. “I’ll go start the warrant paperwork.”
Croft settled into one of the folding chairs. “I’ll watch Park while you do.”
Tom was halfway to the door when he got an alert on his phone. He stopped dead in his tracks. “Cameron Cook just got an e-mail from Hayley.”
He took the chair next to Croft, opening Cameron’s e-mail account. “He gave me permission to view his account,” Tom told Raeburn, who’d begun to pace.
“I know. Just read the damn e-mail.”
“ ‘Cameron, I hope you get this e-mail. We need your help, please. Hayley’s ready to go into labor any minute and she’s scared. There’s a woman here, her name is Rebecca. She’s first wife to Joshua, who’s in charge because Pastor, DJ, and the healer are all gone to a hospital. Pastor’s hurt and gets a hospital, but Hayley doesn’t even have a doctor. Rebecca’s been promised Hayley’s baby and there isn’t anything we can do about it. They’re going to steal her baby because she got pregnant ‘out of wedlock.’ If Hayley even survives. We’re in caves somewhere near Lassen, I think, because some of the rock is black and volcanic looking. It’s cold and wet and people are getting sick. We’re almost out of food. Water is scarce. I found the compound’s sat dish and solar panels. Set up the computer outside. If it rains, the computer is fucked and I’ll lose ability to communicate. Sending coordinates. Please help us.’ It’s signed, ‘Graham.’ ”
“Where are the coordinates?” Raeburn demanded.
Tom sighed. “The middle of San Francisco Bay. This happened last time. They’ve got a proxy program hiding their location. They could be anywhere.” He hit reply, speaking as he typed. “ ‘Graham, this is Special Agent Hunter of the FBI. Cameron came to me for help. I’m sending you another e-mail ASAP. Click on the link. It’ll let me control your computer. Your IP address is being hidden by a proxy program, so we can’t find you.’ ”
Using his laptop, he found the Trojan he was looking for. He’d just hit send on the second e-mail when his phone buzzed with a call from Cameron Cook.
“They e-mailed again!” Cameron was practically shouting.
“I know. I’ve been monitoring your account. The coordinates are still hidden.”
“What do we do now?”
“We wait for Graham to click on the link I sent him.” Another call came through, this time from the surveillance tech in the van outside Sunnyside. Tom’s gut twisted violently in knee-jerk fear for Liza. “I have another call coming in. I have to go, but I’ll keep you up to date.”
“Thank you,” Cameron said fervently.
Tom took the surveillance tech’s call and put it on speaker. “You’re on speaker with Agents Raeburn and Croft. What’s happening?
“You are never gonna believe this,” the tech said. “Liza took the little girl to the solarium to do a craft and who should sit down and talk to them? Pastor. He’s even calling himself Pastor. I can patch you in so you can view the feed.”
“Do it,” Raeburn snapped as the feed appeared on Tom’s laptop.
“Are you a nun?” a little girl asked.
“That’s Liza’s patient,” Tom explained. “Brooklyn.”
“I knew a nun once,” Brooklyn went on. “People called her Sister, too.”
Pastor sat in a wheelchair between the child and a middle-aged woman.
“Something like that,” the woman said.
“Who’s that?” Raeburn demanded.
“The healer,” Tom said. “Graham said that the healer went to the hospital with Pastor. Her name is Coleen. Amos said she was there when he arrived in Eden.”
“Let’s go to my office,” Raeburn said. “I want to see this on a bigger screen.”
EDEN, CALIFORNIA
TUESDAY, MAY 30, 11:30 A.M.
“I’m fine,” Hayley said through clenched teeth.
“No, you’re not.” Sister Rebecca had been hovering for hours. She’d thrown Tamar out of Hayley’s little cubicle, but Tamar had refused to leave, standing vigil at the curtain’s edge.
Hayley glared up at Rebecca from her pallet on the cold stone floor. “I am fine.” Which wasn’t true. She’d been having mild contractions all morning and she was scared enough without the bitch making it worse. “You are making me tense and that isn’t good for my baby.”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. Her hand twitched like she was aching to use her fists. But of course she did not. She merely smiled cruelly. Hayley knew without a doubt that Rebecca would grab Jellybean as soon as the baby exited the womb.
