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 theirmembers. 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 needoneof 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 prescriptionglasses 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 todo 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 crosseshis 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.