Amos seemed to digest this information. ‘Like Swiss bank accounts?’
Mercy blinked up at him. ‘You know about Swiss bank accounts?’
Amos gave her a look that was slightly chiding. ‘They had those in the olden days, Mercy.’
She winced. ‘Sorry.’ Then she had a thought. ‘How did you give all the money from the sale of your grandfather’s land to Pastor when you joined Eden?’
He lifted his dark bushy brows. ‘I wired it to a Swiss bank account. I had help, of course. My grandfather’s attorney handled it. I was only nineteen, but I was his sole heir and the terms of his will commanded that the money go to Pastor.’
Tom spun in his seat to stare back at Amos and Daisy leaned forward to hear more. ‘You wired money to Pastor? What’s your attorney’s name?’
Amos leaned back, eyes wide. ‘That was thirty years ago. You won’t be able to find that money. Can you?’ he added as a stunned afterthought. ‘That attorney was really old in 1989. I’m sure he’s long dead by now.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Tom said excitedly. ‘It’s another place for me to start hunting.’
Amos’s frown deepened. ‘I can’t remember his name, though. I haven’t thought about this in too many years.’ But his brow remained furrowed, thinking so hard that Mercy could almost hear it. ‘His name was like food.’ His lip curled a little in distaste. ‘Something gross that I didn’t like, but that my grandfather did. It was a joke between them. Every Christmas the lawyer would send my grandfather a case of the stuff. It came in little cans and you spread it on sandwiches. Like Spam, but not. Had a . . . devil on it.’
They all stared at Amos, completely confused, then Daisy broke the silence.
‘Oh, oh!’ Daisy exclaimed. ‘I know this one! Is it Underwood? Like the deviled ham?’
Amos snapped his fingers. ‘That’s it. Underwood.’ He made a face. ‘I hated that stuff. I had to pack deviled ham sandwiches in my lunch for months after Christmas because my grandfather never let food go to waste.’
Rafe turned to stare at Daisy. ‘How did you know about that?’
Daisy made a face identical to Amos’s. ‘My stepmother loved it, and it keeps forever, so we always had it on hand.’
‘What are you doing?’ Gideon asked Tom, who was now typing frantically on his laptop.
‘Starting a records search on that attorney,’ Tom answered. ‘This could be really important, Amos.’
‘I hope so,’ Amos murmured. ‘It’s the least I can do after everything.’
Mercy squeezed his hand. ‘You’ve already helped. You warned us about DJ and gave us information we didn’t have before, like Pastor’s name. The FBI knows who murdered poor Ginger too, so stop kicking yourself.’ Which was easier said than done, of course. Mercy knew that better than most, so she changed the subject. ‘What about the safe-deposit box key, Tom?’
‘Warrants are being signed off as we speak,’ he said. ‘Hopefully we’ll know what’s in it by the time we get back to Sacramento.’
‘He’ll be expecting me to have a key,’ Mercy said grimly, bringing her mind back to the confrontation ahead. ‘What if it comes down to that? What should I do?’
Rafe pulled out his own key ring and slid off a key. ‘This opens my safe-deposit box in Sacramento. It won’t look exactly like his, but it may be close enough that you can fool him momentarily. And sometimes momentarily is all you need.’
Mercy took it and put it in her pocket. ‘Thank you.’
Rafe pursed his lips, then whispered, ‘Promise me you won’t confront him.’
But that’s exactly why I’m here. To confront him. To distract him, so that the FBI could get Farrah, André, and Damien to safety. And then, hopefully, take Ephraim. Dead or alive. She hesitated. ‘I won’t sacrifice myself.’
Rafe closed his eyes. ‘Dammit, Mercy.’
‘Would you let him kill Damien if you could stop him?’ she asked quietly.
He shook his head. ‘No.’
‘It’s like that for me with Farrah. Don’t make me promise to sit by and—’ She broke off with a sharply indrawn breath when her phone buzzed in her hand. ‘It’s a text from Mama Romero. Her app is showing Farrah’s phone as active again. Ephraim must have turned it back on. Mama Ro sent a screenshot of the blinking dot on the map. She says it’s not in the same place as it was before, that it’s closer to the interstate.’
She started to show Mama Romero’s map to Rafe when her phone buzzed again and her heart climbed into her throat. ‘It’s Ephraim,’ she choked out. ‘He just sent me a text from Farrah’s phone with map coordinates.’ She swallowed, pushing her fear into the box in her mind, nailing it shut. ‘And a photo of Farrah, bound with duct tape. You can see André and Damien too, but just their torsos. They’re bound, too.’
‘Is there a message?’ Gideon asked tightly.
‘Yeah.’ Mercy cleared her throat and forced the words to come. ‘He says, “No cops or Feds or they all die”.’
‘Let me see,’ Rafe asked, his voice harsh with renewed fear. ‘Sonofabitch. Damien’s got blood all over his shirt.’ He closed his eyes, drew a breath. When he opened his eyes, they were clear and focused. ‘Give me the coordinates he sent.’ He typed the coordinates into his map app. ‘Burton’s coordinates match the map in Mrs Romero’s screenshot. He is closer to the highway than where he called from before by maybe ten miles. We’re not far now. Another twenty minutes.’
‘That’s good, though, right?’ Mercy asked. ‘That he’s closer to the highway?’
Rafe shook his head. ‘I think he’s just getting in position for his getaway. Gideon, take the next exit.’
‘I will,’ Gideon said, then glanced at Tom. ‘Can you let Agent Schumacher know where we’re going?’
Mercy whipped around to stare behind them, noticing, for the first time, the SUV tailing them. It was black, a carbon copy of the vehicle in which they were riding. ‘Agent Schumacher is following us?’
‘Yep,’ Tom said. ‘She caught up to us about an hour ago.’
Right about the time he’d opened his laptop. ‘You knew you had backup,’ she accused. ‘That’s why you were comfortable letting someone else keep watch.’
Tom sighed. ‘Schumacher is a good agent, Mercy. Try to trust us, okay?’
Mercy blew out a breath, trying to control her temper. ‘I did trust you. You, Tom. Not some agent I don’t know. I guess Molina knows, too?’