Chapter 3
“Ugh.” Botan blinked away the sweat as we walked along the National Mall. For someone who worked in hot and humid environments, he wasn’t handling the heat well.
“You’re thinking of greenhouses.” Botan wiped his brow. “I’m a florist. Fresh cut flowers are refrigerated. I work in a fridge. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit?”
Botan downed the rest of the ice coffee I got him while I waited to make contact.
With the FBI tracking my every move, I had to be covert when approaching the few Leslie’s Pies contacts I had left.
Those who hadn’t blacklisted me. I made sure to catch Botan’s attention as I passed before taking up residence at a café across the street from his flower shop.
“I need you to look into someone for me.” I pulled out my phone and the picture of Mads—the Muffin Man—and held it out to Botan.
I’d tucked the Muffin Man’s photo away in the same hidden folder where I’d stored his mirror messages.
I knew it was a risk, keeping evidence of Mads’ visit on my phone, but I didn’t have very many options, and neither Jack nor Todd had said anything about the other photos. “He look familiar?”
Botan clicked his tongue. Even if he knew who the Muffin Man was, and even though we were friends, he wouldn’t give the information for free. He’d want something in return.
“I’d need to check.” Botan pulled out his phone and took a snap of my picture of the Muffin Man. I couldn’t send him the photo directly anyway. “Who’s he to you?”
Botan was searching for how much the information was worth to me.
I couldn’t tell him what Mads meant, not until he’d named his price.
“If it helps, he said his name was Mads. He could have been lying. Didn’t give me a last name.
Said he worked for Leslie’s Pies. Do you think you can figure out who he is? ”
Botan fanned his face. “I can do it. But you’ll need to give me some decent intel. Something useable.”
Watching Botan melt in the heat made me very aware of how hot I was getting in my dress. It was breathable, but I could feel the sweat accumulating along my spine.
“Something about you seems… different. Are you doing alright?”
I’d covered what remained of my bruises with makeup to avoid drawing unwanted attention, so he wasn’t asking about that.
“Still in recovery mode from a case. They gave me a new accessory.” I showed him my hand, the four-petalled tulip brand, still raw, still red.
I hoped that with enough care I could make it almost disappear.
I also hoped that Botan would take the bait.
“I know what you are doing, Delilah.” Botan followed me as I turned us up a street. “But you have a deal. Tell me about the cult, I’ll see what I can find on Mads.”
“Not sure who he is connected to internally. Don’t want anything to point back to me. So, keep it close to your chest. Please.” Botan nodded, though he looked confused as I turned us down back the way we came. “I also need your phone. Just for a minute with no questions asked.”
Botan opened his mouth.
“No questions,” I interjected. “It’s nothing illegal.”
Botan unlocked his phone and placed it in my outstretched hand. We had a deal.
So, while I searched, in a private browser so Botan couldn’t retroactively review my search history, I explained what the FBI and I learned about the Almeidas.
The boys, the bodies, the women, the Dragans, the tulips, and the wire.
Botan listened, sweating in silence, as I described the intake process, the Almeida’s structure, and their underlying belief system.
What I didn’t share was anything that was actively under investigation or confidential. I didn’t share any intel on how the FBI operated, what devices they gave me, or how they supported my activities. No names. No resources.
If I gave those secrets away it would have felt like a betrayal. It would have been a betrayal.
When I was done explaining, and Botan had his phone back in his possession, he sighed. “I need something else. Something bigger.”
“That wasn’t the deal.”
“But it’s not useable. From what you’ve told me the Almeidas are all but shut down.
There’s no money in extracting people from cults that don’t exist. Cults that don’t recruit.
” Botan stopped. I pushed him too far with the walking.
I could see it on his face. “And where on earth are we going? You’ve got me zig zagging all over creation in this heat, are you trying to kill me?
” It was true. I was zig zagging us. In a very specific pattern.
I was just surprised he let me go on this long.
“I would think it’s plenty useable. Like what cults to avoid if you and Leslie’s Pies don’t want to be on the FBI’s radar.” I raised my glistening brow. “The Almeidas recruited heavily. Lots of women. Young women. And there were lots of people who chose to stay.”
Botan sighed. A big overly obnoxious sigh. He was conceding. “Fine. Fine. Fine.”
I let us walk in silence for a moment. The next part was a gamble, but there weren’t many people who could help. And I couldn’t ask Jack or Todd. “But I have one more—”
“I’m not in the right mood for you to ask for more favors, Delilah.” Botan’s face was red. Very red. I hoped our outing wasn’t giving him sunburn, or heatstroke. Knowing my plan—I’d worn sunscreen, and kept my clothing breathable.
“I need help with the Seal.”
All the color dropped from Botan’s face, he grabbed my arm, stopping me.
“You can’t be serious.” Botan studied me. I kept as still and serious as concrete. “You saw what happened to Lawrence. You saw how much power they hold, and your brother was strong. Much stronger than me. Besides Leslie’s Pies would never allow it.”
“I’m not asking you as part of Leslie’s Pies. I am asking you as Botan. Lawrence’s friend. My friend—what are you doing?”
“Calling Salma. Hoping she’ll tell you how unreasonable you’re being, since you won’t listen to me.” The other part of my plan involved getting Salma to join. So, Botan was technically moving my plan ahead for me. Though I was about to get an earful.
Botan’s phone was on speaker. The line rang twice before Salma picked up. “Business or pleasure?”
“Hey Salma, I’m here with Delilah—”
“Oh my god, baby!” Salma squealed. “I missed you. You should have called me right away! Right when you got out of prison, the first thing you should have thought was ‘call Salma’!”
Botan’s face fell. He realized he’d made a mistake. He knew Salma and I were close. That we trusted each other, like he also trusted Salma. But Salma, like me, was one of the few women in the cult extraction business, which had made us fast friends.
I laughed. It was good to hear her voice. “I missed you too. I should have gotten in touch, but—”
“All I’m hearing are excuses, baby,” Salma scolded. It was too long a story anyway. “But you are here now! Botan, video call me, I want to see her face!” Salma hung up not giving him a choice.
Botan sighed, likely resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, and called Salma back with video on.
Salma picked up, her face beaming. “You look gorgeous, baby! But you covered your “two”, which makes me sad.” My “two”, the rather imposing scar on the left side of my face, identified me easily, and I didn’t want any unexpected attention. “Bo, why do you look like a tomato?”
“That’s my fault. I’ve walked him all over D.C, and asked for help with—”
“A Seal, Salma, a Seal!” Botan whisper-yelled, we were in public, so we had to be careful. We were far enough from other people it was unlikely anyone overheard us.
Salma batted her thick lashes, looking from me to Botan, and back again.
I took the opportunity afforded by the silence to explain.
“All I’m looking for is information. What can be found by talking to people who left the Seal.
People who can ask them the right questions.
” I waited a moment in case there was resistance, but even Botan seemed calmer.
Like he’d anticipated my ask to be something much larger, much grander, and much more immediately life threatening.
“I’m not asking for undercover work. I’m not asking for you to avenge Lawrence…
but hopefully what you can gather will help me, for when I do.
” I wasn’t ready to tell them about my ties to the Seal.
The stupid, maybe-not-so-stupid, virgin mother prophecy.
But I knew that Lawrence’s death and the prophecy were related.
And I suspected the Seal breaking into factions was tied into it somehow.
“Botan, you told me about a rift. Something that divided the Wardens. All I want to know, is what caused the rift, and why.”
Botan shook his head. “That information will be hard to get. It’ll be expensive.”
“Shut up, Bo, of course we will help.” Salma brought the camera closer to her face. “It’s your get-out-of-jail-free-card, baby!”
“That’s not—”
“You get out of jail, you get one free.”
I knew Salma would help with whatever I asked. Just like I always helped her. That’s why I so rarely asked her for favors. She would bend over backwards to help me, and it was my responsibility as a friend to not overuse that kindness.
“I will find a way to pay you.” I did have some money, cash, squared away. Just not in the amounts Botan was likely expecting.
“Free is the deal, and I say deal. Right, Bo?”
“I’ll reduce the fee.” Botan squeezed his eyes shut tight. “I need some cash to grease the wheels. Need something to encourage the former Seals to talk, if they’ll talk.”
“Deal.” I jumped in so there wouldn’t be any more negotiating. If we kept going Botan would likely talk himself out of it altogether, and I was getting a better deal than I bargained for with Salma negotiating on my behalf. I owed her one.
“Great! Now, that business is over… plug your ears, Bo.”
“What? No, it’s my phone.”