Looking back, Ephraim wondered if Pastor had known the truth. Now that Ephraim knew that Waylon had lied about finding Gideon’s body, he assumed that Waylon had lied about Marcia’s kids, too. But if Pastor had known, he hadn’t let on. Instead he’d appeared truly grief-stricken, taking Waylon’s son under his wing.
Ephraim wondered if Marcia was still alive, and if so, if she would hide him if things got hot with the Feds. It had been twenty-four years. Bernice and Bo would be thirty-seven years old by now. He’d been angry at the time that she’d taken Bernice away. He’d been angling to be the one who got her for his own wife.
Whatever. The truth remained that Pastor treated DJ as a son, and even knowing that DJ had lied about Mercy might not change Pastor’s mind. If that happens, I’ll change the mind of the entire community. Ephraim would be the wronged party and he’d convince the membership to attack both Pastor and DJ and he’d sit back and laugh as he watched the membership take their revenge.
But he wouldn’t let them cast Pastor out of Eden. Not until the old bastard gave him the passwords for the offshore accounts. Then the membership could do as they pleased. He’d be on his way to a private island where he’d sit on a beach and drink rum for the rest of his life, the rightful steward of Eden’s millions.
He’d lifted his binoculars to take another look at the Sokolov house when he heard the quiet rumble of an approaching vehicle. He ducked low just as a black SUV passed without stopping.
He peeked above the steering wheel in time to see the vehicle parking in front of the Sokolovs’ house. Fuck. That was an official law enforcement vehicle. It wasn’t the first. There had been a black sedan parked in front of the house all afternoon, but it hadn’t moved.
Now a tall blond guy in a black suit got out of the SUV, flashed some kind of ID at the guy in the sedan, then was admitted into the house.
This was what Ephraim had been afraid of. Feds and cops coming by. Any of them could get in his business just for sitting too close in a junky car that didn’t fit the neighborhood, and if they searched his car, they’d find Granny’s rifle, Regina’s golden gun, his own revolver, and the college kid’s .22. A search of the trunk would reveal Granny’s preserved and canned veggies as well as the rope and duct tape that he’d stolen. He suspected that the Feds wouldn’t care about the preserves. The guns, however, would get him into a lot of trouble.
He needed to find somewhere else to wait, and quickly. Mercy wasn’t staying here and if he wanted to follow her to wherever she was staying, he’d need to be able to see the front door.
Time to take a ride around the neighborhood and check out the real estate.
Granite Bay, California
Sunday, 16 April, 4.20 P.M.
Rafe led Tom Hunter through his parents’ house and into his father’s office. Motioning to the chairs in front of Karl’s desk, he took one and waited until Tom had done the same.
‘The last time I saw you was the night Mercy was abducted,’ Rafe said. That had been the only time, actually. ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize you.’
Tom’s smile was rueful. ‘I’m glad you didn’t. It gets a little awkward sometimes, especially when I’m trying to do my job. Besides, we were all focused on getting Mercy back that night.’
‘Thank you,’ Rafe said quietly. ‘I’m not sure what you did that night to help, and I don’t need to know. But thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Tom pointed to the cane. ‘Injuries are a bitch, right?’
Rafe nodded, racking his brain for what he could remember about this man and his former career. ‘You got hurt, too.’
‘Torn ACL,’ Tom said with an eye roll. ‘Benched me for the rest of the season.’
Rafe studied him carefully. ‘NBA to FBI is a pretty big leap. Can I ask what prompted it?’
Something moved in Tom’s eyes, something a little bitter and a lot sad. ‘I . . . well, I lost someone around the same time. I needed a new start.’
Rafe nodded. He knew what that felt like. He thought of Bella, of what life had been like with her. What his life had been like after she’d been murdered. The utter and debilitating grief. It wasn’t something he’d allowed himself to think about often. It hurt a lot less now that he’d met Mercy Callahan. ‘Been there, too. My leap was more like a hop, though. I went from Gangs to Homicide.’
Tom held his gaze, his nod understanding. ‘I was recruited by the Feds at DEF CON, back when I was still in college, but I put them off at the time. My contact kept trying over the years. I heard from him a few months before my injury, asking if I was still interested in the Bureau. I was ready to leave the game anyway, so I told him yes, that I’d be available after the season was over. But then . . .’ He gestured at his leg. ‘I was lucky. I’d recovered enough to pass basic training at Quantico by the time the next class started.’
Rafe’s brows shot up. ‘DEF CON? The hacker convention?’ He’d heard of it but hadn’t met anyone who’d ever attended. At least not that he knew of. Most hackers were very closemouthed about their craft.
‘One and the same. I wanted to play basketball, but I knew it wasn’t going to be something I retired from as an old man. My father played for LA until he got hurt. He became a college professor, so I guess I grew up knowing there should be options after sports.’ Tom hesitated. ‘I, uh, well, I asked for this interview. With you.’
Rafe’s eyes widened abruptly. ‘What? Why?’
‘I should tell you up front that I know your brother Cash. We went to college together.’
Rafe nodded warily. He remembered that, now that Tom mentioned it. ‘And?’
‘Well, I saw him a few weeks ago. Wrenched my knee running and I knew he was Sac’s team PT, so I made an appointment.’ He shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I knew Cash wouldn’t out me to the Bureau. I didn’t want to be put on . . . y’know. Disability.’
Rafe made a face. ‘Yeah, I know.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re the one who recommended the therapist.’
‘Yes, I did. I didn’t tell him specifically I was mentioning it for you, but I knew you were still out on DB. I . . . well, Gideon has been a good mentor and he talks about you sometimes. That wasn’t the reason I made the appointment with Cash, you understand. That was purely selfish on my part.’
‘But once you were there, you couldn’t resist.’ Rafe fought the urge to get up and walk away. Or limp, anyway. Tom Hunter had a sincerity that made it difficult to really be angry with him.
‘Kind of. I know where you are right now. The uncertainty is the hardest part. Where will you go from here, what can you still do? You want to be useful and . . . involved. You wanna be a cop. Am I close?’