Molina frowned. “I figured you’d asked her to come.”
“No. I didn’t.” He recovered his composure and cleared his expression, because they were nearly at the meeting room. “She’s good at caregiving. She’s going to make an amazing nurse.”
“She told me that she’s starting nursing school in July. UC Davis is one of the best nursing schools in the country.”
“Yes, it is.” He’d been stunned when he’d learned that she was headed to Sacramento. She’d told him about her acceptance to UC Davis at his parents’ house over Christmas dinner six months ago, having just arrived back from Afghanistan. He’d been working up the nerve to tell his mother that he’d been posted to the Sacramento field office, knowing she’d be disappointed. His mother had been so hopeful that he’d get assigned to Chicago so they could live in the same city again. That Liza would be joining him in Sacramento had taken some of the sting out of the announcement.
He’d been happy. As happy as he’d been able to get, anyway. He’d still been numb with grief over Tory, and seeing Liza had . . . he wasn’t sure, but it had been like a kick in the gut. He’d been so glad to see her, but sad at the same time. She’d known that he’d fallen in love with Tory. She’d known that Tory was pregnant. But he hadn’t told her that Tory had died, and she’d been so shocked. She’d tried to hide it, but he’d been able to tell.
The past five months of having her just next door in the duplex he’d bought had been . . . nice. More than nice. Her very presence had helped him heal.
Molina cleared her throat, yanking him back. “You must be very proud of her.”
“I am,” he said fervently. “So damn proud.”
Liza had overcome so much to get where she was in life. It was too bad she was too proud to accept his help when he offered it.
He wondered if she allowed the butt-groping Mike to help her.
Molina paused in the doorway, giving him a calculated look. “I think that might come as a surprise to her.” And then she entered the meeting room, leaving him gaping at her.
Why would Liza be surprised to learn that he was proud of her? They’d been best friends for seven freaking years. She had to know.
“Agent Hunter.” Raeburn’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Are you planning to join us or not?”
Tom jerked to attention, realizing too late that he’d been standing in the doorway while the others took their seats. Seven of Raeburn’s agents, most of whom worked on cases other than Eden, watched him curiously, and he had to fight to keep his cheeks from heating.
Gideon Reynolds wasn’t in attendance, which meant Eden would be on the agenda. Gideon had been his trainer for the last few months, but Raeburn had assigned him to someone new after Gideon had been recused from the investigation.
His new trainer was Ricki Croft. She was in her late thirties and could be abrupt, especially before she’d had her morning coffee. She was a good agent, though, her career on a trajectory to make Special Agent in Charge one day. She was more by-the-book than Gideon had been, but far less than Raeburn, so Tom liked her well enough. She eyed him now, travel mug clutched in her hands, one brow lifted. She indicated the empty chair to her left, which Tom took, still feeling off balance.
Raeburn welcomed Molina back, then ceded the meeting to her. She allowed each agent to give an update on their cases, and Tom found his attention wandering for the first time during a briefing of any kind. He was known for his laser focus and his ability to remember nearly everything he heard, even the assignments that had nothing to do with Eden.
But his thoughts were on Liza now, on Molina’s startling disclosure. He needed to talk to Liza, as soon as possible. He needed to mend this rift between them. He needed to make sure she knew he was proud of her. She needed to know what she meant to him.
She wasn’t his oldest friend, but she was the one whom he trusted above all others. Liza knew his deepest secrets. For a long time, she’d been the only person in his life who’d known about Tory, about what she’d meant to him. About the life Tory had carried.
She understood what he’d lost.
His attention was brought back to the room by the buzzing of the cell phone in his pocket. It was his work phone—not the burner he never left home without—so he peeked at the text.
It was from Jeff Bunker, a sixteen-year-old budding journalist who, despite authoring a trash piece on Mercy Callahan that had hurt her deeply, had since made amends. Now Tom considered the kid a friend and ally.
Call me. Please. It’s important.
Tom glanced up to see Croft frowning at him. He winced and slid his phone back in his pocket.
Only to have it buzz again.
Again, he peeked. Again it was from Jeff. PLS CALL ME! About Eden. CRITICAL.
Jeff knew the buttons to push. He knew that anything “Eden” would bring Tom running. Wincing again, he pushed his chair back, grateful it didn’t squeak.
Raeburn still whipped around to glare at him. “You are not dismissed, Agent Hunter.”
Tom held up his phone. “An informant. It’s about Eden.”
Molina held up her hand, silencing the retort poised on Raeburn’s lips. “Hurry back.”
Tom nodded and left the room, dialing Jeff Bunker as soon as his ass cleared the doorway. “What is it?” he asked when Jeff answered.
“I put an alert on any news articles about Eden,” Jeff said. “Last night I got a hit from an article by a guy named Cameron Cook. His pregnant girlfriend disappeared two months ago. He got an e-mail from her, saying she’d been taken to Eden and she needed him to bring the cops to spring her. He said she sounded scared. She’s due in two weeks.”
Tom sucked in a breath, both excited and dismayed. Eden’s conditions were primitive at best. Many women died in childbirth. “How did she get an e-mail out?”
“He doesn’t know. He told the police and they went to the coordinates in the e-mail but the place was just forest.”
Tom stood straighter. “She sent him coordinates?”
“Yes, but they were bogus. The cops got mad at him, threatened to have him arrested if he kept bugging them, because he kept calling. He finally went to the newspaper. He’s desperate. He’s been searching the area around the coordinates for weeks all by himself.”
“Where is he?” Tom asked, his pulse ratcheting up. This could be the break they’d been hoping for.
“With me, in the lobby of your building. I drove to San Francisco to get him. I figured you’d want him to stop talking to the newspaper.”
A grin pulled at his mouth, so wide it hurt his cheeks. “You thought right. I’ll be down to get you both as soon as I can.” He started back for the meeting room. “Don’t let him leave.”