Molina narrowed her eyes at him. “Why don’t I believe you?”
He managed a thin smile. “I gave you my word. Ma’am.”
There were, of course, so many other ways to get vital information to them. If it was a matter of life and death, if Gideon and Mercy’s safety was on the line, he’d find another way.
“All right, then.” She gave him a sideways glance, sharp as a knife. “What else do you know, Agent Hunter? I take it that you’ve checked out all of the former Eden sites.”
“Of course. The notebook we found in Ephraim’s safe-deposit box had a very accurate map. None of the locations are currently occupied, though it was still valuable to find that map. We learned that their earlier locations are obvious from the sky, but the more recent ones are not. They’ve effectively utilized ground cover, building earth homes. We thought we might locate them through infrared, checking for heat signatures, but so far that’s been a bust.”
Ephraim Burton had left a veritable Eden playbook in his safe-deposit box, with detailed descriptions of all of the Founding Elders’ sins, meticulous records of the cash stored in the offshore accounts, and the map of previous Eden locations. Tom assumed that it was some kind of dead man’s switch, that if he was killed mysteriously, the contents of his box would somehow be made public. And indeed, it had ended up in the hands of the FBI.
“You found the most recent location?”
“Yes, ma’am. But there wasn’t anything there. Nothing living, anyway. We found evidence of animals—a lot of very fresh shit in a variety of sizes. It was still fresh, maybe a few days old. We also found a lot of animal blood. It appears they slaughtered at least some of their farm animals. Maybe they couldn’t take them all. We didn’t miss them by much.”
“Did you tell Miss Callahan and Agent Reynolds that you have a list of the old sites?”
“I told them we’d found the very first Eden, but not the other sites. That would have made them want to explore each one, and I didn’t want them to be seen there in case Pastor and DJ returned for some reason.”
“Why did you tell them about the first site?”
It had been an impulse decision, but he didn’t regret it. “I thought visiting it might provide them some closure.” He’d had personal experience with closure. “The site was cleared of trees and easily spotted by satellite surveillance. I didn’t think Pastor would bring Eden back there.”
“Did they go for closure?”
“Not to my knowledge, ma’am.”
“Anything else?”
“Not really. Mostly I’ve checked off potential suspects. What I know is right here.” He pointed to the bulletin board next to his desk, on which he’d attached photos and maps and documents relating to his Eden search. He had an identical one in the office at his house. “I tracked down DJ Belmont’s surviving family on the off chance he’d hide with them. His uncle Merle Belmont lives about an hour from here in Benicia. He and his wife filed the missing-person report when DJ and his mother went missing when he was four years old. They claim that they haven’t seen him, though, and thought that he’d been dead all these years.”
“You believed them?”
“I did, but you’re welcome to interview them yourself.”
“I might. What else?”
Tom wasn’t offended. He was new. He expected others to check his work, especially on a case as important as this one. “I’ve interviewed a number of people who knew Pastor when he was the minister at the church in L.A. The one he embezzled from and defrauded.” The one he’d fled to hide in Eden to escape a criminal investigation. “Those people told us what we already knew—Pastor was a sociopath who could charm the bark from a tree. We have the rifle that Belmont used last month. We’ve pulled prints, but they don’t match anything in the system. Other than that, we haven’t had any new leads. Raeburn’s had me working on a few other projects until we do.”
Which was a waste of valuable time. But if they had no leads . . . Tom knew all they could do was wait for a break, but he hated it.
Molina examined the board. “What is the significance of the key?”
Tom glanced at the photo of a key bearing the GM logo. “It was in Ephraim’s pocket when he was killed. It’s old and didn’t belong to any of the vehicles that Ephraim stole last month.” Of which there’d been quite a few. “That’s all I know.”
“All right, then.” She rose abruptly. “Let’s go to my morning meeting.”
Exiting his office, they walked in silence until she said, “How is Miss Barkley?”
Surprised, Tom almost stumbled. He smoothed his gait and his voice. “She’s doing well.”
Liza Barkley was indeed doing well. Deep irritation blossomed within him at just how well his best friend was doing. The memory of her arriving home way too late the night before grated. She’d been holding the hand of the ass who’d believed that paying for her dinner entitled him to a whole lot more.
She’d called him Mike. Mike had been too familiar, too handsy. It had taken nearly all of Tom’s self-control not to throttle him when he’d groped Liza’s butt like she was some kind of . . .
He had to take a deep breath, conscious of Molina watching him.
Liza hadn’t objected, though, so he’d remained silent. At least Mike hadn’t stayed long enough to do anything more than groping. Because, yes, Tom had stood at the window watching until the man drove away.
“I’m glad,” Molina said. “I enjoyed her visits.”
Tom stared down at his boss, and she had to crane her neck to look up. In heels, Liza could look him in the eye comfortably.
And he wasn’t sure why he thought about that now. “Liza Barkley? My Liza Barkley?”
Except she wasn’t his. She was Mike’s.
Molina looked amused. “Tall? Long auburn hair that she wears in a Heidi braid? About five-ten, but likes heels? Always smiling? She’s your Liza Barkley, is she not?”
Yes, she always smiled. Yes, she wore her hair up in a braid, a habit she’d picked up during her years in the army. He preferred her hair down, but his preferences didn’t count. Because she wasn’t his. “Liza visited you?”
“Both in the hospital and after I went home. She brought me crime thrillers and lasagna and homemade caramel brownies. She even did my laundry a few times. I appreciated her kindness.”
“I didn’t know,” Tom murmured. Because Liza hadn’t mentioned it. His best friend hadn’t mentioned a lot of things lately. She’d been steadily pulling away from him for the last month and he didn’t like it one bit.