A minute later, during which Rafe and Gideon continued to glare at her, Irina returned, followed by a very tall man with bright blond hair. He looked familiar, somehow.
Mercy recalled his face seconds before he introduced himself. He was the FBI agent who’d helped Gideon find the killer the night she’d been abducted. She wasn’t sure what exactly the man had done to help, but Gideon said they owed him a great deal.
‘I’m Special Agent Hunter,’ the man said. ‘I’m here to take your official statement, Detective.’
‘Mine?’ Erin asked, confused.
‘No,’ Rafe said. ‘Mine. Hi, Tom.’
Tom looked around the table, clearly sensing the tension. ‘Is this a bad time?’
‘No, it’s fine,’ Rafe told him. ‘We can use my father’s study.’
But Karl had risen to his feet, still looking confused. ‘Wait. You’re Tom Hunter?’
Tom’s lips quirked up in an almost-smile. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘The Tom Hunter?’ Karl pressed.
‘Well, it’s a fairly common name,’ Tom said, amusement in his eyes. ‘I can’t be the only one.’
Karl shook his head. ‘The Tom Hunter who led Boston to the finals three years running?’
Tom looked a bit bashful now. ‘Yes, sir. But that was a lifetime ago.’
‘It was a year ago,’ Karl protested. ‘I was sorry when I heard you’d left the game. You were a pleasure to watch on the court.’
Mercy was now confused. ‘Court?’
‘He’s an NBA player,’ Karl explained.
‘Was,’ Tom corrected. ‘Now I’m with the Bureau.’
Rafe’s mouth had fallen open. ‘Holy shit. I didn’t make the connection before. Holy fucking shit.’ He darted an apologetic glance at Irina. ‘Sorry, Mom.’
‘Is okay,’ she said, chuckling. ‘Raphael, take the nice agent to your father’s office. I will bring tea.’
‘That’s not necessary, Mrs Sokolov,’ Tom protested.
‘Nonsense. You go. Now.’ She shooed both Rafe and Tom with a flick of her hands.
‘That was . . . weird,’ Mercy said, when the two were gone.
‘The last twenty-four hours have been weird,’ Farrah agreed.
Daisy turned on Gideon with an indignant frown. ‘Did you know who he was?’
Gideon shook his head. ‘I don’t follow basketball. I thought he was a rookie agent with impressive computer skills.’
‘Well, we’ll have to get him on my radio show,’ Daisy declared.
Gideon looked displeased. ‘You’ll do no such thing. He has a different job now and he might not want to receive that kind of attention. It could negatively affect his work.’
Daisy pouted. ‘Dammit. But I know you’re right.’ She jabbed his arm with her finger when he smiled, a little smugly. ‘This time, you’re right. This one time. Don’t go getting a fat head.’
‘Too late for that,’ Mercy muttered, and Sasha choked out a laugh.
‘He’s your brother. I got five of them, so I feel your pain. They treat us like we’re useless.’
‘I do not,’ Gideon insisted. ‘I just got her back. I don’t want to lose her again.’
‘Still right here,’ Mercy called. ‘Still can hear you. And you won’t lose me.’
Which she genuinely hoped was true. But dammit. Ephraim had already killed four people, three of them innocents. I have to do something, right now.
Granite Bay, California
Sunday, 16 April, 3.50 P.M.
Nothing was happening at the Sokolov house. Ephraim had been here most of the day after his search for an unoccupied house had been a failure. Both unoccupied houses were actually occupied – one with about two dozen addicts and the other by two guys making meth.
Ephraim hadn’t wanted to tangle with any of them, so he’d headed over to the Sokolov house, and was glad he had. He’d arrived in time to see two SUVs filled with people pulling into what had to be a six-car garage, at least. Through his binoculars he’d spied Mercy sitting in the backseat of the lead SUV, a gray Chevy Suburban. The second vehicle was a blue Range Rover, with a small woman behind the wheel.
At least the windows weren’t tinted and the vehicles didn’t look like official law enforcement. Mercy had a personal guard, but no formal protection. That would make things a little easier.
The detective – Raphael Sokolov – had been sitting in the Suburban’s passenger seat, Gideon Reynolds behind the wheel. The sight of Reynolds made Ephraim want to charge and shoot him dead.
But the garage door had been quickly lowered, and Ephraim had been left to brood and seethe. He needed Mercy to prove to Pastor that DJ had lied about her death. But he wanted Gideon in a choke hold. Wanted to watch the fucker take his last breath, but not before he cut out the man’s eyes.
It was justice, after all.
He didn’t care about anyone in the house. He wanted Mercy alive, Gideon stone-cold dead, and the Sokolov cop to be permanently in that wheelchair, in pain for the rest of his miserable life.
So he’d sat and watched, growing more bored by the moment. A horde of additional people had arrived – more Sokolovs, Ephraim figured by the overabundance of blonds who carried covered dishes and wrangled noisy children. All of them had left in the last hour, but Mercy, Gideon, and the Sokolov cop remained. So Ephraim had stayed put.
He wanted to get closer to the house, but he didn’t dare. He’d seen Mercy arrive and now knew that she wasn’t actually staying in this house, which meant that he couldn’t leave. He needed to follow them when they left. He needed to know where Mercy was sleeping. He needed to catch her unawares.
He blinked hard when his view of the house grew fuzzy. He shouldn’t be tired. He’d gotten an excellent night’s sleep in Granny’s bed. He gave his head a shake, slapping his cheeks lightly to stay awake. Need to think. Need to plan. He might be AWOL from Eden for a while, depending on how long Mercy was going to stay. He would wait her out, but that could take days at a minimum.
He needed cash and was abruptly struck with a fresh worry. Grabbing his new prepaid smartphone from his pocket, he went to open his banking app, then realized he hadn’t downloaded it. He started the process, resigned to the fact that he’d have to add data sooner than he’d anticipated since he wasn’t connected to Wi-Fi.
Ephraim scowled at the phone as the app slowly downloaded. At least the phone had been easier to obtain than he’d thought, only requiring the bribe of beer and cigarettes to one of the kids sitting outside the store. The kid had bought him one flip phone, one smartphone, a pair of cheap binoculars, and several prepaid cards carrying data and minutes.