He got out of Burkett’s Escalade and dragged in a lungful of the crisp air. He liked the city in small doses, but the air really was better here.
A peek into the camper revealed that the Romero woman was awake and glaring hatefully, but the two cops were still out cold. He’d given them higher doses and had stopped to repeat the injections midway to his destination because he wanted them to stay asleep, but the woman he was going to need soon. She’d be the bait to draw Mercy to him. The men he’d keep in case anything went wrong. He’d be able to use them to bargain his way to freedom. Cops protected their own.
Once Mercy learned that her friends were in danger, she’d fall into line. She’d do exactly what he said. And once she had, he’d get rid of his hostages and whisk her back to Eden in an hour and a half along roads that most people didn’t even know existed. Nobody would stop him from finally delivering his prize to Pastor.
A buzzing in his pocket startled him. For a moment he panicked, but remembered he’d turned off Romero’s phone and the phones of the other two were left behind. He dug for his flip phone and saw that it was Pastor.
He debated not answering, but knew it was better to know what was going on than to show up in Eden unaware. ‘Hello?’
‘Brother Ephraim.’
Shit. Pastor was using the mild voice and that rarely meant anything good. ‘Pastor.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Santa Rosa,’ he lied. ‘My mother is ill.’
‘Ah, so the doctor got in touch with you. I was hoping all was well. I’m sorry to hear your mother isn’t well. When will you be back?’
Ephraim rolled his eyes. So much empathy. ‘As soon as I can. Is something wrong?’
There was a beat of hesitation that made Ephraim straighten his spine in interest.
‘Perhaps. We may need you to bring back some surrogates.’
Surrogate meant a body too mauled or decomposed to be identified. ‘Who went missing?’
‘Amos.’
Ephraim blinked, genuinely surprised. ‘Did he get lost? He’s always out there looking for new trees to use in his workshop.’
‘We might have thought so, but his daughter is gone, too. We didn’t miss them until this morning. Amos told Sister Coleen that he and Abigail were sick, so no one bothered them all day yesterday. But this morning he didn’t show for chapel and Abigail didn’t go to school. Their home is empty.’
‘Shit,’ Ephraim breathed. ‘But if he’s on foot, he can’t have gotten far, even in a day.’
‘And that’s why I said we may need a surrogate. We’re hoping we find them. DJ is out searching.’
And lying. DJ wasn’t looking for Amos. DJ is looking for me.
‘I’m stunned, Pastor.’ And Ephraim truly was. ‘Amos is faithful.’
‘I know. I was hoping you might know why he left, seeing as how you’ve been gone all this time as well.’
Ah. That explains it. He thinks I helped him. Which was ludicrous. Ephraim didn’t help anyone except himself. ‘I didn’t know he was planning to run. I would have told you.’
Unlike that prick DJ, who – either willingly or not – helped Mercy escape. Or Waylon, who let Gideon go free.
‘I know.’ Pastor sighed. ‘I’m frustrated. I’m sure you understand that.’
‘Of course,’ Ephraim said, forcing sympathy into his voice, but the words left a sour taste. Pastor wouldn’t have called if he didn’t think Ephraim could be responsible.
Mercy would change everything. No longer would Pastor suspect him for everything that went wrong. DJ would be the odd man out, and then DJ would be dead.
And as long as Mercy still had that damn key to the safe-deposit box, Pastor would never know how close they’d come to their location being outed to the whole world.
‘I need to go, Pastor. My mother needs me.’
Ephraim ended the call, mentally promising his mother that he’d visit as soon as he could, but with his face on the news and without Burkett to bring her from the nursing home on day breaks, that visit wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.
For now, he’d focus on his immediate goal. Getting Mercy back. He opened the door to the camper. ‘Wake up, Dr Romero. I need you.’
Sacramento, California
Wednesday, 19 April, 12.00 P.M.
Six missed calls. Mercy dialed Mama Romero and put the call on speaker, her heart pounding so hard that she barely heard the line ringing.
‘Mercy? Oh my dear Lord, Mercy. Is Farrah with you?’
‘No,’ Mercy whispered. ‘I saw her off to the airport at about four this morning. She was with André and Damien Sokolov, Rafe’s cop brother. Why?’
‘She didn’t get off the plane.’ Mama Romero’s voice was pitched high and bordered on hysteria. ‘They said she never boarded, Mercy. Where is my daughter?’
Mercy’s blood ran cold. ‘I don’t know. But we’ll find her. I promise. I need to go so I can find out what’s going on. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.’
She ended the call and stared at Rafe helplessly. He was dialing his mother, the remaining color in his face draining away.
‘Mom?’ he asked hoarsely as he put his phone on speaker.
‘Rafe. Oh my God.’ Irina was crying. ‘They found your brother’s car. The police. They found his car. He never came home. Never called Jemma. He’s missing, Rafe. My son is missing.’
‘Who found his car, Mom?’ Rafe said, closing his eyes, his struggle for control visible.
‘One of the patrolmen near the airport. Damien’s car was crashed into a tree. They think he was run off the road.’ Irina choked on a sob. ‘There was blood, Raphael. So much blood.’ She broke into harsh sobs. ‘We need to find him. Oh God, what if he’s dead?’
There was a shushing behind her, followed by Karl’s voice, murmuring soft words in Russian. He must have pulled Irina into his arms, because her sobs became muffled. Heartbreaking.
Mercy closed her eyes. This has to stop. I have to make this stop.
‘We’ll find him, Mom,’ Rafe promised, his words desperate and filled with pain. ‘Farrah and André are missing, too.’
The silence on the other end was abrupt. ‘Oh God,’ Irina whispered. ‘He got them all. What are we going to do?’
Mercy stood up and went to the closet for her coat. We’re not going to do anything. I’m going to give Ephraim whatever the hell he wants.