Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
When I step into the conference room, Annette Mills is adding names to the whiteboard where pictures of cult members are arranged in the shape of a pyramid.
Jerome Wakefield’s name is written at the top, with a row of “true believers” below him, and “followers,” along the bottom.
To the side hang pictures of several buildings I recognize—like the Elk Flats Diner and the shoddy dorm structures inside the compound.
I lock eyes with Everett, who is leaning against the opposite wall, a stern set to his jaw. “Thanks for coming on such short notice, Rowdy.”
“I came as soon as I could.” And I would have been here sooner if not for my unplanned visit to Scott’s office this morning.
First you tell me to take CJ along, and then you sideline him with a drug test? Why didn’t you check with me first?
I’m just following protocol.
Well your protocol stinks.
I’ve been in a tailspin since leaving Keo’s on Saturday.
I reacted like a selfish, insecure dickhead, but her decision to foster Colton has brought up some old but very tender feelings.
Eliza left us because we weren’t enough for her.
And now, though the circumstances are different, the end result is the same.
I’m not enough. No matter how much I try, I will never be enough.
This is why wanting something for myself is so risky. Because now it’s gone, slicing another hole in my heart in the process.
Then I find out about Linnea and CJ. Maybe I shouldn’t have come down so hard, but damn it—they’ve both been lying to me, and that stings. It still does.
“I thought you had a new recruit with you?” Zach asks from his spot at the end of the table as I ease into a chair across from Rex Rolland, who gives me a quick chin lift in greeting.
“He’s off today,” I reply as CJ’s wounded look flashes through my mind.
Next to Rex, Vera Perch offers me a serious nod. Luke sits on his other side with a man in a sheriff’s uniform who could be his burlier twin. Same inquisitive brown eyes, same chiseled jaw. Sure enough, the guy’s gold nametag reads “Sheriff Ballard.”
Annette taps the picture of Tolbert Browning in the row of “true believers” right next to Wayne Gilbert.
“From interviews Sheriff Ballard conducted with Sadie Travers, most likely, Gweneth and McKenzie were abducted by this man. He likely had a woman with him.” She points to a woman in the same row with shoulder-length brown hair and a blank stare.
“Someone the girls knew or even trusted.”
I ball my fists in my lap. “Why can’t we arrest Browning for kidnapping?”
“We’re working on it,” Annette says briskly.
“We need one or both of the girls to make an ID, but as you can imagine, after what they’ve been through, interviewing them is delicate.
Plus, Sadie Travers’ custody petition was never rectified, so the girls’ father still has legal rights.
Frankly, it’s a mess but we’ve got a team on it. ”
It’s maddening how much control these dirtbags have over their members. Do they get off on believing they can get away with kidnapping and murder?
I check my phone for the hundredth time since leaving the Sons of Eden compound on Friday, but there’s no missed notifications from an unknown number.
We only need one of those followers to ask for help. If just one of them can find the courage, maybe the others will too.
Annette taps the picture of the diner on Elk Flat’s main street, snapping my attention back to our meeting.
“Intel from our audio surveillance team has been coming in for almost a week. So far, nothing blatantly incriminating about the cult or the sheriff, but we’re only just getting things underway.
It’ll take time to learn the patterns and the players. ”
Luke’s eyes lock with mine for a moment. He’s got something for me. I acknowledge this with a nod.
“Thanks to Officer Whittaker,” Annette continues, “we’ve got a DNA sample from someone in that house, most likely Tolbert Browning, but it could also be one of his wives or children. We should have those results by the end of the day.”
“Don’t get too excited.” Rex’s mouth draws into a tight line. “It won’t be admissible in court.”
“But it’s another link in the chain,” Everett replies.
“So what’s it all mean?” I nod at the board, frustration lacing my tone. “McKenzie and Gweneth were skin and bones. That’s child abuse. Isn’t that enough for you to rescue the other kids, or anyone else who wants out?”
Luke and Annette exchange a glance. He stands and joins her at the whiteboard. “As much as we’d love to storm in there, we don’t have enough evidence to make an arrest yet. And anything short of that could put the kids at risk.”
I think of that long scar on Colton’s forearm and the way he asks permission to do simple things. He was so sure we’d send him back to Sons of Eden for something as normal as losing his prescription glasses that it took him several days to work up the courage to tell Benjamin.
No child should feel like a burden, ever.
Colton had tried to leave the compound once, then whatever happened after they found him was so awful he vowed to do it right, because he couldn’t ever go back.
I don’t want to know how the boy came to that conclusion, but it only renews my determination to stop this cult from hurting any more children.
“We have to be extremely careful,” Luke adds. “With a leader like Wakefield, if he feels like his power is under threat, there’s no telling how he might react.”
I swallow hard. “Minimal harm.” It’s what Luke said to me on the phone as I stood outside in that depressing courtyard. He doesn’t need to remind me of how catastrophic this kind of situation can become.
“Exactly,” Luke says, his quick brown eyes narrowing. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
After the meeting breaks up, I stay behind to talk to Luke. To my surprise, Sheriff Kaz Ballard joins us. He’s broader than Luke, with beefy forearms covered with tattoos, and a full beard.
We shake hands, and his crushing grip makes it hard not to wince. “Sorry we didn’t get to meet on Friday.” He gives me a serious nod. “I was in family court and it wasn’t something I could miss.”
“You have kids?” Family court is usually code for custody disputes. Could Kaz be going through a divorce?
Kaz’s tense expression softens for an instant. “Yep. Three girls.”
Luke elbows him in the ribs, and his scowl is back. “Right. Luke says you wanted to know about Molly Parks. Ten years ago, I pulled over a guy on a bike. Molly was on the back.”
I huff out a breath. “Okay.”
“I ended up arresting the guy for possession.” Kaz crosses his burly arms. “She was high as a fucking kite. I don’t even know how she stayed on the back of the bike.”
“What happened to her?” I ask.
“She obviously couldn’t operate the bike, so I had it impounded. I tried to talk some sense into her. Offered to get her help.” He shrugs, but it’s heavy. “She shook loose and I never saw her again.”
Luke slips a folded piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to me.
“She’s had five different addresses, in Idaho, Washington, Montana.
Her last known residence is an apartment in Lewiston.
But there’s nothing in the system for the past three years.
No arrests, no employment record, no hospital admissions, no driver’s license renewal, nothing. ”
An uneasy chill settles in my gut as I glance between them. “You think she’s dead.”
“Or she’s somehow bought herself a new name,” Luke says.
I tuck the address into my back pocket. “Any idea how she and Sheriff Thomas are connected?”
Luke shoves his hands in his pockets. “Six years ago, she tried to enter the US from Canada with a fake passport.”
“And Thomas was the one who caught her?”
“That’s the thing. There’s no arrest. Just a red flag. Almost like they let her go, but that doesn’t make any sense. Use of a fake US passport is serious business. She would have been sent to a detention facility. Faced jail time and a hefty fine.”
“Thomas worked at the border during that time,” I say.
Kaz combs down his beard with his fingertips. “He could have been the one to bust her. Maybe he made her some kind of deal. Cut her loose in exchange for a few favors.”
My empty stomach flips, and I force out a grounding exhale at the ceiling tiles. “Sounds like a dead end.”
Kaz gives me a rueful nod.
Luke turns to me. “As for your kid CJ, he’s clean. Not that he’d get hired in law enforcement with a record, but you can rest easy.”
Guilt chews at my already frayed nerves. Asking for this intel was wrong. Dishonest. And Luke’s right—if CJ had some kind of record, he would be disqualified from ever working in law enforcement. I owe the kid an apology.
In fact, I owe him a few.
“One more thing,” Luke continues. “He was selected for a CO position once before. A couple of years ago. But he took a leave of absence right before he was due to begin training.”
I cock my head. “Do you know why?”
Luke shrugs. “Maybe it’s about Molly? The timing fits. Or he had some sort of medical issue, his own or a family member’s.”
Scott Shay seems to know the answer. And he’s holding it over CJ like some kind of flex. Typical Scott, being his typical asshole self. Maybe it’s time I did something about it.
After shaking hands with Luke and Kaz, I head for the door.
Outside, the mid-morning mist has turned to a steady rain, and I turn up my collar before sprinting to my truck, startling a sleepy Bruneau.
I slip out my phone and dial Keo’s number. She answers on the second ring, tension and wariness in her tone.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” My tone comes out heavy, but it can’t be helped. “Can we talk later?” I don’t want to interrupt her if she’s painting, plus I have a full day of problems ahead of me.
She hesitates long enough to make my stomach pitch. “You want to stop by tonight? I could make—”
“I’ll bring something,” I interrupt, then run a hand through my damp hair. She’s always cooking for me. It’s time I return the favor.
“Okay,” she replies.
I should say more, but I don’t want to start this conversation on the phone. It’s too important to me for that.
We say goodbye, and I toss my phone into the console.
I spend the afternoon tracking down a new lead on our Bald Eagle poacher case while the spring rain blurs the landscape, then my day runs long thanks to a bogus call about a wolf that turns out to be someone’s stray husky.
I’m in my truck finishing up paperwork in the thickening twilight, Bruneau snoring softly in the passenger seat, when my phone buzzes from the console.
It’s CJ.
The drug test results aren’t due back until Tuesday afternoon, but maybe they’re ready early, and CJ wants to tell me himself.
Or maybe he’s found out I betrayed him by asking Luke to look into his past and wants to chew me out.
Or this is about Linnea and how he’s been lying to me. We’re supposed to be partners, damn it.
“Have you heard from Linnea?”
Startled by his rushed tone, I frown at my rain-slicked windows, but there’s no view now thanks to the quickly falling darkness. “No. Should I have?”
“She was in the field today, but she’s not back yet.”
This could easily be the explanation. Using every ounce of daylight when doing field work is the norm. “She’s not in the office?”
“No, sir. I got a text from her this afternoon, but it doesn’t make any sense.
It said, ‘have you ever seen something like this?’ but I don’t know what she’s referencing.
I replied, but she hasn’t read it. I figured she was out of cell range, but it’s getting dark. She’d be back to the truck by now.”
“I’m sure she’ll turn up.” Even as I say it, the pit of my stomach flutters with unease.
“I’m going up there.” In the background, an engine purrs to life.
I toss my clipboard aside and start my engine. “I’ll meet you.”