Rafe nodded. ‘Pretty much.’ Tom wasn’t just close, he was right on the money.
‘I saw the therapist I recommended while he was in Boston, but he’s moved to San Francisco, started a practice there. I bet he’d drive to Sacramento to talk to you if you bribe him with that cake I saw on the table.’
Rafe found he could still smile. ‘Thank you. You got a business card for him?’
‘I can shoot you his contact info.’ Tom waved his phone. ‘AirDrop okay?’
‘Yes, please. And thank you,’ he repeated, because Tom hadn’t needed to do this, hadn’t needed to be so honest. Or helpful.
He put his phone away after accepting the contact exchange and drew a breath. ‘Do you still need my statement?’
‘Yes, if you would.’ Tom produced a tablet and perched it on his knee, his fingers poised to type. ‘Ready when you are.’
Rafe told him everything that had happened in the airport the night before, down to seeing Burton’s revolver on the security footage.
‘Got it,’ Tom said when Rafe wound down. ‘Tell me, did you notice anything else about Burton? Anything that surprised you?’
‘Well, first off, he was there,’ Rafe said sourly, and Tom chuckled.
‘Besides that.’
Rafe considered it, went through every moment of the altercation. ‘He had an eye. I assume it was glass, because Mercy said he didn’t have a prosthetic when she was—’ He cut himself off, unable to say the word ‘married’. It had been rape, pure and simple. ‘When she knew him. He must have had some kind of surgery . . .’
Tom smiled encouragingly. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, if he had surgery, someone has to have done it, and probably outside Eden. I don’t think they had an actual doctor there, just “healers”.’ His heart started racing, in sync with his mind. ‘Maybe we can find out who did it.’
‘Maybe, maybe not. That’s kind of a needle in a haystack.’
Rafe looked at his foot, tapping a rhythm that matched his quickened pulse. ‘He grew up in Santa Rosa, and you know about the brothel madam, right?’
‘You’re suggesting that his surgeon might also be located in the same area?’
‘Yes. His mother’s nursing home is there, too. What if we started there? Asked if there were any surgeons who worked with Mrs Franklin?’
‘We could try. It’s unlikely they’ll tell us. HIPAA regs and all.’
Rafe blew out a frustrated sigh. ‘Dammit.’ But Tom was right. ‘It was just an idea.’
‘It was a good idea,’ Tom said thoughtfully. ‘But we might have to try unconventional methods to get that information.’
He had Rafe’s attention. ‘Like?’
‘Like finding someone on the inside. Or someone who can get on the inside.’
‘I can go undercover.’
‘Probably not the best plan. You’re not supposed to be working this case and, besides, your face is all over the TV and Internet right now.’
And I actually tried to get inside and failed. Which, now that his face was all over the TV and the Internet, might make someone at the nursing home remember him anyway. Dammit.
Feeling helpless, Rafe met Tom’s gaze. ‘Mercy is my friend. So is Gideon. I’d do anything to keep them safe, and finding Burton will keep Mercy safe.’
‘Then help me.’ Tom lifted his tablet. ‘What else did you notice about Burton last night?’
Rafe scowled, then reconsidered. Tom hadn’t told him specifically not to get involved. Only that he wasn’t supposed to. I can work with that. ‘He didn’t really seem shocked when I called him by name. More . . . angry and a little resigned. Like he’d been afraid of it happening.’
‘The locket,’ Tom murmured. ‘We allowed CNN to show Eileen’s locket in the hopes that other Eden escapees would see it and come forward. But if Burton saw the locket . . .’
‘He’d be worried that we know what’s inside it.’
Tom shrugged. ‘It’s the most likely scenario. Anything else?’
‘Just that I’m still wondering how he knew she was flying to Sacramento yesterday. I know he was in New Orleans for almost a week, but that doesn’t account for how he knew she was leaving – and he took the flight before hers, so he couldn’t have followed her to the airport.’
Tom sighed softly. ‘I didn’t think anyone had called Dr Romero yet.’
Rafe stiffened. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I figured her family would call her, but when I saw her sitting at your mother’s table I could tell that no one had. Her aunt, actually her great-aunt, I think, was found dead in her apartment sometime during the night. Whoever did it tried to make it look like a robbery, but the timing is very suspicious.’
‘Oh no,’ Rafe breathed. ‘Poor Farrah. But what does this have to do with Mercy?’
‘Mercy and Quill Romero were next-door neighbors.’
‘Oh God.’ Rafe’s stomach began churning all over again. ‘Why has no one told Farrah?’
‘I don’t know.’
Rafe surged to his feet, grabbing his cane to pace the length of the office, then stopped when a thought occurred. He dialed his next-door neighbor, Ned, who answered on the first ring.
‘Rafe, what’s wrong?’
‘Why would you think something’s wrong?’
‘Because men in black visited your place about an hour ago.’
They had tried to tell Farrah, then. ‘Are they still there?’
‘Hold on. I don’t think so, but I’ll look.’
Rafe looked over at Tom. ‘I think the Feds came by my house. Hold on, Ned’s back.’
‘The black suits are gone, but there’s another guy outside, sitting on the hood of his car, watching your house. Big guy, like a football player. African American. Looks kind of sad, actually. He’s not a cop, at least he’s not wearing a uniform. Or a suit. He’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Looks like . . . Oh, it’s one of those golden fleur-de-lis things. New Orleans Saints, I guess.’
‘I think I know who he is – probably the fiancé of one of my houseguests. Can you do me a favor? Take your phone down to the guy and let me talk to him or at least give him my number?’
‘Sure thing, Rafe. Hold on. Gotta find my shoes.’
Rafe rubbed his hand over his face while he waited for Ned to go outside. Finally, he heard Ned say, ‘Excuse me. Are you looking for the homeowner?’