Say Goodbye Page 31

  Pastor’s eyes narrowed. “Asshole.”

  It was fair. “How are you feeling, Pops?”

  Pastor’s eyes narrowed further, to tiny slits. “Watch it.”

  The old man was right. DJ was pushing him, which could result in him changing his will entirely. The pleasure he got from the verbal jabs wasn’t worth it in the long run.

  DJ nodded once, which seemed to pacify the old man. Either that, or the act of narrowing his eyes had tired him out.

  “Did you talk to Brother Joshua?”

  “I did,” DJ lied smoothly. He had no intention of ever bringing Joshua into the fold. That would be one more person who knew about the money, and that didn’t fit with DJ’s plan. “He’s completely on board.”

  Pastor smiled wearily. “Knew he would be. He’s going to make a good right hand.”

  DJ maintained his pleasant expression, even though inside he was fuming. I’m your right hand. He suspected Pastor didn’t realize he’d admitted that, but it was good to know his true intentions. Not that it was that much of a shock.

  Pastor said no more, dropping back into a deep sleep.

  “He’ll do that for a few more days,” the nurse murmured from her chair. “The painkillers are strong because his body needs rest to heal. All perfectly normal.”

  DJ pulled his chair until he and the nurse were side by side again. “Is there a pad of paper in this room?”

  “Desk drawer.”

  “Thanks.” He got the paper and a pen and sat down to write. I know what you did. If you don’t want your management to know, walk with me to the parking lot, where you can explain.

  He placed the notepad atop her electronic tablet. He knew when she’d read it, because her body stiffened. She glanced up, eyes full of fear. Excellent. DJ pulled his jacket back enough for her to see the gun in his shoulder holster. She inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring.

  He tilted his head toward the door, secretly relieved when she stood up.

  Kowalski, then. If it had been the facility owners, she wouldn’t have been afraid for them to know.

  He left the bugs in place. He’d deal with them once he learned the extent of this treachery.

  When they got to the living room, DJ leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You’re giving me a tour if anyone asks. Got it?”

  She nodded, her body trembling.

  “And if you fuck it up,” he added silkily, “I will kill you and anyone who has the misfortune to stop us. Nod if you understand.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded.

  He put the damn mask back on. “Hands where I can see them,” he murmured as they left Pastor’s suite and began the walk to the back door. No one stopped them. No one even passed them. The halls were so quiet, it was creepy. DJ didn’t breathe until they were outside.

  He pointed at the lot. “Which car is yours?”

  “The Audi.”

  “Fancy. Let’s get in it so that we can talk.”

  The woman was shaking so hard she could barely walk, but she made it to the car. DJ stopped her, making it look like he was opening the passenger door for her. Instead he patted her down, hissing when he found a wire.

  A fucking wire. Bugs weren’t enough? Kowalski had to wire her as well?

  He yanked it off her and tossed it on the asphalt, where he crushed it with his shoe. He then opened the door and showed her his gun again.

  She got in and immediately began to cry. It was good that women’s tears had no effect on him. He took her keys and got behind the wheel.

  “Don’t kill me,” she begged. “This is the first time I’ve done anything like this. I swear.”

  I don’t care. He pulled the mask down, giving her his kindest smile. “I won’t kill you if you cooperate.” He totally would, regardless. “How much is Kowalski paying you?”

  She frowned in confusion. “I didn’t talk to him.”

  He believed this as well. Kowalski could, however, have sent one of his underlings. He likely had, in fact. “Who put you up to this?”

  “Mr. Raeburn.”

  DJ didn’t recognize the name, but he didn’t know most of Kowalski’s men. “What did he offer you?”

  Tears were flowing down her face. “Help for my son. He’s in prison, waiting for his trial. Mr. Raeburn promised to get him out.”

  Now that sounded like Kowalski. Of course, the man had no ability to spring people from prison. He’d lied to the nurse just as DJ had.

  “Do your employers know your son is in prison?”

  She shook her head. “He was recently charged. I was trying to find him an attorney.”

  “Charged with what?”

  “Murder. But he didn’t do it!”

  “Of course he didn’t,” DJ said dryly. He started the car and headed toward the security gate.

  She paled. “You said you wouldn’t kill me.”

  “And I won’t,” DJ said. Here in this parking lot, anyway. He needed to get her off the property so that the rehab center wouldn’t have him charged with her murder. He noted the card reader and grabbed the badge clipped to her scrubs. He pulled the mask up to cover his face in case there were cameras at the gate. At least he learned from his stupid mistakes.

  He exited the lot after swiping her card through the reader. He’d made it to the end of the street when a plain white panel van pulled out of a side street behind him.

  Oh goody. Kowalski sent a tail.

  “How many bugs?” he asked.

  To her credit, she didn’t play dumb. “Three.”

  “I know about the lampshade and under the nightstand lamp. Where is the third?”

  She closed her eyes and said nothing.

  “Nurse Gaynor? I asked you a question.”

  “You’re going to kill me either way,” she said hoarsely.

  “No. I won’t kill you if you cooperate.” He might have even believed himself, he sounded so fucking sincere. “I will definitely kill you if you don’t.”

  “In his Bible. I figured with him being a pastor, he’d keep it close.”

  DJ snorted. “Thank you.”

  “You won’t kill me, then?”

  “Of course not.” He’d wait until he got free of Kowalski’s tail.

  They were only after him, at least. Kowalski didn’t care about Pastor, so the old man was safe for now. Not that DJ cared about Pastor. He just didn’t want Kowalski getting those access codes before he could.

  The van behind him kept a steady pace, leaving three cars between them. Like that’s supposed to fool me. He bided his time until he came to an intersection at which the light was yellow, about to turn red. Gunning it, he flew through the intersection a second after the light turned red, earning him a cacophony of blown horns.

  Ignoring them, he turned at the next corner, following the road to the rear lot of a grocery store, where he parked and made sure his mask was still in place.

  “Where are we going?” the nurse asked fearfully.

  “Well, you’re going to hell,” he said pleasantly. Not prolonging things, he dragged her across the console and out of the car and tossed her to the pavement. She immediately tried to run, but he drew his gun, tightened the silencer, and shot her in the head.

  She dropped and he shot her in the head a second time, just to be certain. Then he slid behind the wheel of her car and drove away—just in the nick of time. In his rearview mirror he saw the white panel van pulling into the grocery store lot as he turned the corner. He didn’t see anyone following him the rest of the way back to Sunnyside Oaks.

  He was met by the same charge nurse, who wore a forbidding frown. Standing behind her was the big-ass security guy from that morning. He did not look pleased.

  “Where did you go? Where is Nurse Gaynor?” she demanded.

  “She’s permanently resigned,” DJ
snapped. “She agreed that she wasn’t competent enough to care for my father. I dropped her off at a grocery store nearby. Come with me.”

  The two followed him into Pastor’s bedroom. Putting a finger to his lips, DJ lifted the lamp on the nightstand, holding it so that the underside of its base was visible. He could see when the security guy saw the bug. The man’s jaw tightened, making a cheek muscle twitch.

  DJ laid the lamp on its side, then pointed at the lampshade, showing them the second bug. He opened the nightstand drawer and withdrew the Bible, exposing the third bug.

  It wasn’t Pastor’s Bible. Pastor only waved one when he was preaching. Wasn’t like he read it every day. Or any day, for that matter.

  Nurse Innes’s lips had thinned. She motioned to DJ and the security guy, leading them into the hallway.

  “Who?” she asked sharply.

  “A guy who wants to kill me,” DJ told her. “He already tried once today.”

  “How did he turn her?” the security guy wanted to know.

  “Her son is in prison, waiting for trial.”

  Innes shook her head. “We would have known.”

  “It’s new, apparently. You can check it out.”

  The security guy made a call, then scowled at whatever he heard. He ended the call and gave Innes a nod before turning to DJ. “Was she ambulatory when you dropped her off?”

  “Not really,” DJ said.

  The man sighed. “Can’t say I blame you. Which store? I’m going to need to grab her before the cops find her. Did you use a silencer, at least?” DJ gave him a look and the man sighed again. “Of course you did. What a mess.”

  Innes suddenly looked exhausted. “I told you to come to me with concerns, Mr. Belmont.”

  DJ blinked at her. “I thought you meant if my father needed extra pillows.”

  Innes rolled her eyes. “Get her body,” she said to the security guy. “You may return to your father’s room,” she said to DJ. “I’ll send our tech guy to retrieve the bugs. We’ll destroy them.”

  DJ shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll sit with my father until you assign him another nurse.” He turned away, but not before he saw Innes shaking her head. It was her mess now.

  SIXTEEN

  SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

  THURSDAY, MAY 25, 7:30 P.M.

  Raeburn was staring down at the body when Tom and Croft arrived at the crime scene, located behind a grocery store. The victim lay on her back about a foot from the dumpster, two gunshot wounds in her head.

  One of the head shots had taken a chunk of her skull with it.

  “Which one is she?” Tom asked quietly. All they’d been told was that their mole was dead.

  Raeburn was visibly disturbed. Likely not at the gruesome scene but at the reason this woman had been targeted. “Penny Gaynor.”

  Tom closed his eyes, visualizing the pages of the employee database scrolling in his mind. Penny Gaynor, age fifty-three. Mother of four. She’d been a nurse at the rehab facility for nearly ten years and was one of their most trusted employees.

  “The one whose son is sitting in prison awaiting trial?”

  “Yes,” Raeburn said. “She was only supposed to plant a few bugs and wear a wire.”

  She wasn’t supposed to die hung in the air like a dark cloud.

  That DJ was involved in the killing was to be assumed. Which meant he knew that the FBI knew where he was. Shit. Tom hoped this wouldn’t lead to Raeburn sending in a team to arrest Pastor and DJ, if he was hiding in Sunnyside. They still had no idea where to find Eden.

  “She catered to killers and mob bosses,” Croft said rationally. “She looked the other way when killers crossed her path. She’s not completely innocent, boss.”

  Raeburn drew in a breath and let it out. “I know, Agent Croft.” His words were crisp, intended to intimidate, but the slight tremble in his voice ruined the effect.

  Tom’s respect for the man ratcheted way up. “Who found her?”

  Raeburn pointed to a white panel van parked a short distance away. “The agents who were in the surveillance van radioed as soon as they knew she was in trouble. They followed her car when it exited the parking lot, but lost her when her car ran a red light. They found her not even two minutes later, but she was already dead.”

  “Does the store have security cameras?” Tom asked.

  Raeburn nodded. “It was Belmont. He was wearing a surgical mask, but based on hair, eyes, and build? It was him. He found the wire and yanked it out. Destroyed and dropped it on Sunnyside’s parking lot.”

  Croft frowned. “So he’s onto us?”

  “No.” Raeburn pointed to the pendant that hung around the nurse’s throat, covered in blood and brain matter.

  Tom’s momentary elation at their not having been made withered as his gut roiled. He recognized the pendant as one of the Bureau’s comm devices. It was similar to the one he’d given Liza to wear the day she’d accompanied Mercy to the nursing home where Ephraim Burton’s mother lived. He had to force himself to see the nurse’s features and not transpose Liza’s over them.

  “DJ didn’t know it was a transmitter,” Tom said, grateful that his voice was even.

  “No. We heard them talking in the car. He asked her how much ‘Kowalski’ was paying her. Luckily when she denied knowing him, she called me ‘Mr. Raeburn,’ not ‘Agent.’ He doesn’t appear to know that we’re the ones behind the bugs. That’ll hopefully give us a little more time to line something else up.”

  Something else, Tom noted. Not someone else.

  “We know Pastor’s still in there,” Croft said. “Maybe we just wait for him to be brought out and follow them back to Eden.”

  Tom didn’t like that. “Leaving Belmont free to stalk Mercy while Pastor recuperates? That could be weeks. Where is DJ now?”

  “We don’t know,” Raeburn admitted. “The van lost him a few minutes after he took the nurse from the rehab center. He might have gone back inside or he might have run.”

  Croft sighed. “Dammit. Who is Kowalski?”

  Raeburn brightened a fraction. “That’s the good news. He’s a local gang leader.”

  Croft’s eyes lit up. “Of the Chicos?”

  “We hope so. The Chicos have become insular and a lot harder to pin down since the men at the top were taken down a few years ago. No one seems to know much about their new power structure. Local PDs had heard his name but knew nothing more. No photos or even a description. I’ve got a team searching for him now.”

  “What do you need from us?” Tom asked. He thought of Dixie Serratt and wondered if they should have pushed harder. She knew what Kowalski looked like. Tom was sure of it.

  “I need you to find a way to get audio and video from Pastor’s room. Find out if they’ve got a leaky faucet or a broken window. Anything that would require the services of an outside contractor. We’ll get one of ours in that way. That Belmont doesn’t know that we were behind the bugs buys us some time, but I think the Sunnyside employees will be hyperaware of anyone approaching them the way Gaynor was approached. We can’t try turning one of theirs again.”

  Tom was already considering the possibilities. “I could manufacture an IT crisis.”

  “Do it fast,” Raeburn warned. “And thank you, Hunter. That would be most helpful.”

  “And me?” Croft asked.

  “You’re with me. I want a description of Kowalski. I’m betting on him being with the Chicos, so I’m bringing the Serratt woman in for an interview. I want you to lead it. She doesn’t leave until she tells us what the man looks like.”

  “We’re more likely to get information out of her if we can offer protection,” Croft murmured. “She seemed genuinely terrified for her life.”

  “I’ve already started the paperwork for protection,” Raeburn said. “And I’ll have the state’s attorney involved. We may be a
ble to offer her a reduced parole period. You’ve got your assignments.”

  Tom knew that Raeburn was right. But he also had a gut feeling about Pastor’s wife. At a minimum, the woman could fill in a number of unknowns. He gave his boss and his partner a nod and started back for the field office so that he could return the Bureau’s SUV and get his own back. He already had ideas on how to manufacture a network failure that would force Sunnyside to call for IT help.

  Once he was on the road, he dialed Liza’s number again. This time it rang a few times before going to voice mail. Which meant she’d directed it there. Which still stung, but at least she was actively involved in avoiding him, so that meant she was okay.

  He hoped. He needed to know. Using the SUV’s handsfree, he dialed Irina’s number, hoping she’d be more helpful than she’d been earlier in the day.

  “Yes, Tom?” she answered, sounding like his mother before she’d grounded him as a kid.

  “Just tell me if she’s all right.” There were voices in the background. It seemed they were having fun. He listened hard for Liza’s voice, but then Irina spoke again.

  “Hold on.” A minute later the background noise became hushed. “She is fine.”

  Tom sighed in relief, then tensed. “Who is she with?”

  “I am not TMZ, Agent Hunter. I do not give out titillating sound bites and call them facts.”

  “Titillating?” He frowned. “What’s titillating? Who’s with her?” Don’t be Mike the Groper. Please don’t be Mike the Groper. “Is it that Mike the Groper?” Dammit.

  Irina coughed, but had clearly covered a laugh. “Mike the Groper?”

  Tom’s cheeks flamed. “Well, is he with her?”

  Irina sighed. “I think you should talk to Liza.”

  “She keeps sending my calls to voice mail. Where is she?”

  “That, I will not tell you. If she doesn’t wish to see you, I will respect that. I’d do the same for you.”

  “I know,” Tom grumbled. “Will you at least tell her that I’m sorry that I shouted at her? I was worried and . . . well, I shouldn’t have done that.”