Say Goodbye (Sacramento Series, The Book 3)
Say Goodbye: Chapter 16

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 replace 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 replace 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 able 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.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have. I’ll tell her. I have to go now. Good night, Tom.”

Tom ended the call, frustrated. He didn’t know where Liza was and who she was with, which sucked. At least he knew that she was all right. Wherever she was.

She’ll calm down in time, he told himself. She’d come back.

But as what? As a friend, he told himself firmly, although the words no longer felt right.

And if she never did? The prospect of a life without Liza wasn’t something he could even think about. Every aspect of the life he’d built since coming to Sacramento was tied to Liza.

Everything but his job. Which he’d now go home to do.

GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA

THURSDAY, MAY 25, 10:15 P.M.

“Thank you,” Liza said, hugging Karl Sokolov first, then Irina as she walked them to her new front door. “You guys are insane, letting me have this place until July.” The posh apartment was one that Karl made available to clients visiting his marketing firm. “This is the nicest place I’ve ever lived.”

The poshest, at any rate. The nicest place she’d ever lived was the place she’d left that morning, and she was already homesick.

“This place sits empty most of the time,” Karl said. “I’m glad someone is using it.”

Liza shook her head helplessly. “I think you’re lying about that, but again, I thank you.”

“Did you show her the alarm panel, Karl?” Irina asked.

“I did, my love.”

“Did you introduce her to the guard in the lobby?”

Karl kissed Irina soundly. “I most certainly did.”

“Good. Liza, there are clean sheets on the bed and food in the pantry and the fridge. There is also a list of restaurants that deliver in the drawer next to the stove. Karl’s company has an account with all of them, so you will not need to pay.”

Liza’s brows shot up. “I most certainly will pay. I have funds. I was Fritz’s beneficiary. I got his death benefits.” She’d told them about Fritz when she’d returned from Monterey, and it seemed that telling people about Fritz got easier every time. She needed to tell her Chicago family soon. She didn’t want them hearing it from Tom. They need to hear it from me. “I put half of the money in a trust for his parents to use for their retirement, and I’ll use the rest for living expenses and tuition not covered by my GI benefits and financial aid. I’ll be fine.”

Karl’s smile was both proud and sad. “Do his parents know about the trust?”

“No. I thought I’d tell them . . . later. Their grief is still too fresh.”

“You are a good girl, Liza.” Irina took Liza’s cheeks in her palms and brought their foreheads together. “Your mother would be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

Liza had to clear her throat. “Stop making me cry, Irina.”

Karl tugged at Irina’s sleeve. “Come on, my love. Let her get some rest.”

Irina had called her as she, Gideon, and Daisy were driving back from Monterey to tell her that they’d found her a place and had moved her boxes and her car. Gideon had stopped first at the Sokolovs’ house so that Daisy could get her car, then the two of them had escorted her up to the apartment, where they’d helped unpack Liza’s things. With so many hands working, her boxes had been unpacked before she could blink.

“I’ll be by tomorrow to read with Abigail,” Liza assured Irina. “Thank you again.”

Everyone hugged her a final time, then left.

And the silence was . . . awful.

Liza hadn’t realized how much noise there’d been at her old place. Tom always had either a TV on or his opera music blaring. Pebbles was always barking at something.

But this place was quiet. Too quiet.

“Buck up, soldier,” she murmured. “You’re blessed. Be grateful.”

And she was. She really was. She had everything she’d ever wanted.

Except for the one thing she couldn’t have. Exhausted, but too wired to sleep, she sat down at the mahogany desk and opened her laptop.

Step one: Post an ad for someone to sublet my side of the duplex. She wasn’t poor, but she wasn’t going to waste Fritz’s money on rent for a place she wasn’t using. She e-mailed Tom to let him know she’d placed the ad, because he’d ultimately have to approve the new renter.

Step two: Sift through the want ads and apply for a temporary job. Irina had pointed her toward a temp service that hired out nursing assistants, so she’d go there.

Step three: Run on the treadmill in the gym in the apartment building’s basement until I’m too tired not to sleep.

Step four: Do not dream.

That last one would be far easier said than done, but if she did dream of the sniper attack, at least she wouldn’t be hit with the guilt of keeping Fritz a secret. She leaned back in the desk chair and winced. Her tattoo was gorgeous and she loved it, but it was sore. Sergio had outdone himself, thanking her for allowing him to create such a moving memorial. Liza would need to go back in a few weeks to get the shading done, but even without that, the memorial was all she’d envisioned.

She’d completed steps one and two and was trying to remember where she’d put her running shoes when her phone rang. She almost let it go to voice mail but then saw the caller.

It was Mr. Tolliver, her old next-door neighbor. Something had to be wrong. Mr. Tolliver never called this late.

“Hi, Mr. T, what’s wrong?”

“I’m glad you answered. Your dog has escaped.”

“Pebbles? Oh my God. How do you know? Did you see her running by?”

“No, I see her on my front stoop, playing with Sweetie-Pie.”

Liza exhaled, relieved. “Oh good. At least she’s all right.”

“Can you come and get her? It’s after my bedtime. I’m an old man, y’know.”

“Of course I’d come over to get her, but . . . I don’t live there anymore.”

“I figured that. I saw you moving this morning. Did that man throw you out?”

“No. Of course not. I left because . . . I just needed to leave.”

“What are we going to do about your dog, then?”

“Did you call Tom?”

“Don’t have his number,” Mr. Tolliver said tartly. “Just yours.”

Liza wasn’t giving out Tom’s number without his permission. Nor was she calling him herself. He’d ask her to come back and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to say no. “Can you knock on the front door?”

“As if I haven’t done that already! If he’s there, he’s not answering, because he’s killing his hearing by playing that music so loud. It’s not rock, either. That I could take. It’s . . . opera.”

Liza had to chuckle because he’d said opera like it was dog doo. “Fine. I’ll be over to get Pebbles. I still have a key. I can put her in Tom’s house. Do you know how she got out?”

“She tunneled under the fence. He must have let her out and she got bored. Or lonesome. She went right up to your front door and lay on the welcome mat for the longest time.”

“Oh.” Liza’s heart cracked. She loved that dog so much. “I’ll be there in about fifteen or twenty minutes. See you soon.”

Liza waved to the man at the security desk on her way to the parking garage elevator. Irina had cited two separate elevators as additional security, and it made Liza feel safer to know that someone couldn’t come all the way up to her floor from the parking garage.

ROCKLIN, CALIFORNIA

THURSDAY, MAY 25, 11:00 P.M.

Pebbles perked up when Liza got out of her car, running up to meet her. Liza was glad she’d been leaning against the car when Pebbles had leaped to lick her face, otherwise she’d be on her ass.

Liza gently pushed Pebbles back to all fours and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Tom doesn’t like it when you lick faces,” she told Pebbles sternly.

“Tom isn’t here,” Mr. Tolliver said with attitude. “He can train her when he’s around.”

Liza looked up at his side of the duplex. All the upstairs lights were on and she could hear the faint strains of Pavarotti’s “Nessun dorma” all the way from where she stood.

“He’s working. That’s his working music.”

“Hmph.” Mr. Tolliver lifted his chin. “It’s loud.”

“What’s your favorite band, Mr. T? You said you’d have preferred rock.”

Mr. Tolliver grinned. “I saw Black Sabbath in concert six times one summer. That’s where I met Mrs. Tolliver, God rest her soul.”

Liza grinned back. “You are awesome, Mr. T. I’d love to chat, but I’m going to take Pebbles back inside now. I’ve had a really long day.”

Mr. Tolliver took a step forward, his expression now wistful. “Come back every now and then, okay? Pebbles will miss you. And so will I.”

Another piece of Liza’s heart cracked. “You bet. I promise.”

“You’d better. I just got used to you, girl.”

“And my Dream Bars.” Mr. Tolliver loved her Caramel-Pecan Dream Bars.

He grinned. “Those too.”

Liza slapped her thigh. “Pebbles, come. You’re going home.” Pebbles followed her across the lawn but stopped at Liza’s front door. “No, girl. That’s not your home. Not anymore.” She could have sworn that Pebbles pouted. “Come. I’m too tired to drag you.”

Pebbles snorted, shaking herself before following Liza to Tom’s front door.

Liza unlocked the door, disabling the alarm. “Go on.” But Pebbles didn’t move. Exasperated, Liza pulled on the dog’s collar, dragging her inside. Tom might not even have known that Pebbles had gone out to the backyard, so she checked the massive doggy door they’d put in after Tom had first brought Pebbles home. Sure enough, the doggy door was unlocked.

Liza locked it, all under the cover of Pavarotti singing at the top of his lungs.

Then froze when she heard Tom’s shout.

“Goddammit, Liza!”

She stood in place, hardly daring to breathe, hoping he didn’t come down the stairs.

But also hoping that he did. When he didn’t, she edged toward the front door and the music abruptly stopped. Again she froze, staring up at the stairs. Hoping she wouldn’t see him.

Praying that she would. Just a glimpse.

Stop it. This is over. Get out of here.

But Tom still didn’t come down the stairs. Instead she heard him pacing in his office. “I might have a way in,” she heard him say.

Against her better judgment, she climbed the first few stairs.

“Good,” another voice said, sounding tinny. Tom was on the phone. “What can you do?”

“I tried shutting down their security network from my end, but whoever developed it put in too many fail-safes, so I constructed an e-mail that looks like a bill with late charges. If their bookkeeper clicks the link to pay, it’ll allow me to shut down all nonessential network function. I’m not going to touch anything that has to do with patient treatment or medication, though.”

“But it will shut down enough of it, yes?”

“Yes. Sunnyside Oaks won’t be able to operate any of their personnel, accounting, or admin functions. Hopefully they’ll call tech support so we can get an agent physically in there.”

“I’ll get the warrant expanded to cover wiretaps so we can intercept their calls.”

“Just to let you know,” Tom said cautiously, “in case this doesn’t work, Sunnyside Oaks posted a job opening for a nursing assistant. I found it when I did a wider search on the place.”

“Not a nurse?”

“No, this was posted earlier in the day, before Nurse Gaynor was discovered. If you want to try to get someone in there . . .”

“We’ll do that. Do you know on which job websites they’ve posted the opening?”

Liza frowned as Tom rattled off two websites she hadn’t found in her earlier searches. What was Sunnyside Oaks? And why was Tom interested in it? Who was he talking to? Sounded like his boss. Why were they interested in a nursing assistant position?

“Just because the nursing assistant position is open, that doesn’t mean that the individual will have access to Pastor or DJ,” Tom cautioned.

Liza’s mouth fell open. DJ? And Pastor? They knew where Pastor was?

Apparently so. He was at some place called Sunnyside Oaks, which needed a nursing assistant.

No one had informed Mercy or Rafe or Gideon. They would have been unable to stay silent about something this huge. Which pissed her off, because they had a right to know.

“I know that,” the other man said. “But an in is an in.”

Yeah. It is. And Liza was going to apply to be that in. This was finally something she could do. Yes, they’d tracked down the Eden tattoo and might be able to replace Pastor’s wife and kids. But this was Pastor himself. He could lead them to Eden.

And Liza was uniquely qualified to help. So I will.

Tom said good night to his boss and for a brief moment she considered sneaking out without letting him know she’d been there. But that was childish. And dishonest. And cowardly.

She glanced down at Pebbles, who leaned into her hip, staring up adoringly as her tongue lolled to the side. “Wish me luck,” she whispered, giving the dog’s muzzle a soft stroke.

Drawing a breath, she went to the bottom of the stairs and called out, “Tom?” Straightening her spine, she braced herself for the sight of him, like she always did.

Because he took her breath away. He always had.

And then he was standing at the head of the stairs, gaping. “You’re here.”

“I am.”

He came down two of the steps, then paused uncertainly. “Are you back?”

“No.” She backed up a few feet, giving him room as he descended the rest of the way. “I got a call from Mr. Tolliver. Pebbles got loose, so I came back to bring her in.”

Startled concern flickered across his features. He dropped to his knees in front of the dog, checking her for injuries. “Is she okay?”

“Yes. She dug a hole under the fence. You should probably get it filled in. Apparently she only went as far as next door to play with Sweetie-Pie.”

He looked up, blue eyes uncertain as he seemed to drink her in. “Is the Yorkie okay?”

Liza forced her lips to curve. “Of course. They’re BFFs. Anyway, I brought her inside, fed her, and locked the doggy door so she can’t get out again.”

He swallowed hard, and then, not breaking eye contact, rose to his full height.

Liza looked up. She’d always loved that she had to look up at him. But not tonight. He looked pained. And awkward.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “You want to . . . sit? Talk?”

She shook her head. “Today was a busy day. I need to get back to my new place and sleep.”

“Where is your new place?” He held up his hands, surrender style. “Wait. First, I need to tell you I’m sorry. For yelling at you this morning.”

“I know. Irina gave me the message. It’s okay. I’m okay. I need to tell—”

“No!” he shouted, then groaned. “I did it again. Just . . . don’t leave. Please. I’m sorry.”

“And I said it’s okay. Listen, I—”

He cut her off before she could tell him about the conversation she’d overheard. “But I’m not okay,” he said hoarsely. “Please. Let me say some things. I need to say this.”

The agony in his voice stunned her into silence.

“I was scared,” he said in a rush of words. “Really scared.”

Her heart softened, and she hated that it did. Hated that she wanted to soothe him. To tell him that everything would be all right. That she’d come back. That they could go back to the way things had been before she’d shown him Fritz’s picture.

But they couldn’t go back. Eventually it would eat her up inside. So she forced lightness into her tone that she did not feel. “That I’d been kidnapped by aliens or something?”

His eyes narrowed. “No. By a killer who had you in his crosshairs yesterday morning.”

“Oh.” She winced guiltily. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I left a note on the fridge.”

“Yeah,” he said bitterly. “I read it. ‘Tom, I’m moving. Don’t worry, I’ll keep paying the rent.’ Which was the last thing I was thinking about.” He exhaled, visibly trying to calm his temper. “Will you at least tell me where you’re living?”

She hesitated, tempted not to tell him. But that would also be childish. “Karl’s company keeps an apartment in Granite Bay for VIP clients. Top-of-the-line security, a guard in the lobby. A gated, guarded parking garage. Cameras everywhere. It’s very safe.” And because she needed to reclaim a little of her pride, she lifted her chin. “You don’t need to worry about me anymore. I can take care of myself.”

“But I liked taking care of you. You’re important. You’re my—” He went abruptly silent, as if realizing he was about to say the very wrong thing.

Too late. “Your friend,” she said, trying so hard not to sound bitter.

He took a step closer. “Because we are. Aren’t we?”

Liza took a step back, her eyes filling with tears. “I need more than that.”

He flinched, then shook his head helplessly.

Get this back on track. Back to business. “Did you get the copy of the photo ID that I sent you? The one that William Holly used eighteen years ago to get that Eden tattoo?”

“I did. I’ve already got it printed out and tacked to my bulletin board. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Mercy, Gideon, Amos, and Abigail.”

“I know.” He looked at his feet for a moment before lifting his gaze, filled with hurt. “Will you tell me where you went today?”

“I promised the artist that I wouldn’t. The FBI scared him into moving away the last time you visited.”

“I didn’t visit him,” Tom said defensively. “It wasn’t me who scared him.”

“I know. I meant ‘you’ in the sense of ‘you FBI guys.’ I won’t expose him. I promised.”

“You also promised you’d live here with me,” he blurted out. “But you e-mailed me that you placed an ad for someone to sublet your side.”

“Oh, that’s why you swore at me,” she murmured. “You saw my e-mail.”

“I have to approve whoever you choose.” Now he sounded arrogant, but she could still hear the hurt underneath. “It’s in your lease.”

She knew that, and it was a fair requirement. “If you don’t approve them, I’ll continue to pay the rent myself.”

“And not live here?” he asked, stunned. “How can you afford to pay rent on two places?”

“It’ll cut into my savings, but it’ll only be for a little while. I’ve applied for dorm housing starting in July and there may be financial aid for that.”

“Liza.” Then he frowned. “Wait. What do you mean, ‘that’s why you swore at me’?” His face paled. “How long were you standing there? What did you hear?”

“Long enough. And everything you and your boss discussed.”

Twin red stripes rose on his cheekbones. His breathing ticked up. He was angry. But she wasn’t afraid. She’d never been afraid of Tom Hunter. She was only afraid of how he made her feel. And what she was willing to do to make him happy.

“You had no right,” he hissed.

“You’re right. I didn’t. I didn’t plan to overhear you, but I did. And now I know that they are hiring a nursing assistant at Sunnyside Oaks.”

Tom staggered back a step, anger now mixed with fear. “You wouldn’t. You can’t.”

“I will and I can. I’m qualified for the position.”

“Liza, no.” His jaw went tight. “I forbid it.”

She gaped at him. “You what?”

“I. Forbid. It.”

A tendril of temper unfurled in her chest and she welcomed it. Anger was a million times better than despair. “You can’t stop me.”

He was in her space before she was aware that he’d started to move, his big hands gripping her upper arms. His grip was firm, but not punishing. She still wasn’t afraid.

She was pissed off, but she didn’t shrug him off, because he was touching her and she was pathetically needy. She swallowed a whimper. Barely.

“Watch me,” he said in a low growl.

His face was close, his nose millimeters from hers. His mouth was unsmiling. Still, she wanted it more than she wanted to breathe. She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to his lips. Would they be soft? Or hard? How would he taste?

No, no, no, no. Stop it. Stop it now.

She yanked her gaze up. And froze.

Because he was looking at her mouth, too. For a moment she thought . . .

She hoped . . .

But when he yanked his gaze up, all she saw was shock. He was . . . appalled, and her pounding heart seemed to freeze in her chest.

His hands fell from her arms as if she’d burned him, and he took a huge step back, so huge that he nearly tripped up the stairs. He shook his head hard, saying nothing. But his rejection couldn’t be clearer.

“Well,” she said, wondering if he could hear her frozen heart shattering into tiny pieces. “I’m glad we had this chat. I’ll be going now.” She had her hand on the doorknob when he finally spoke.

“Liza, wait.”

She paused but didn’t look back. She could hear that he still stood by the stairs. He hadn’t moved an inch after that colossal retreat. “What, Tom?” she snapped.

“You can’t apply for that job.”

Not wanting to argue, she simply shook her head and opened the door, but the knob was ripped from her hand, the door slamming shut. Tom’s hand lay flat against the door, his big body close enough that she could feel his heat.

“Pastor is there,” he hissed, his breath hot on her neck. “DJ will be there. If he sees you, he will kill you.”

“It is a risk,” she allowed, because to deny it would be foolhardy. To deny that her heart beat faster at the thought would be a lie. But she wasn’t afraid, not enough to quit before she tried.

If she could meet Pastor, talk to him . . . maybe she could get him to talk about Eden. Maybe even tell her where it was. Especially if he was hurt or in detox, which she assumed he was, because he was in a rehab center. People said things when they were in pain, things they might not otherwise say. And if he didn’t tell her directly, maybe she could overhear something useful.

She only knew that she needed to try. “But a risk I’m willing to take,” she added.

“It is a certainty.” He didn’t shout, not really. But his voice was so loud that she recoiled involuntarily. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, far more quietly. “I didn’t mean to yell again, but, Liza, this is madness. We had someone on the inside—one of Sunnyside’s nurses who’d agreed to work with us. She planted bugs in Pastor’s room. But DJ caught her.”

Liza’s heart raced faster. “What happened to her?”

“He dragged her out of the facility, drove her a few miles, lost our surveillance van.” There was a sudden pressure at the base of her neck, a few inches above her new tattoo. Tom’s forehead. He was leaning on her. “Then he pulled her out of her own car,” he whispered, “onto the back lot of a grocery store and shot her in the head. Twice. My boss wanted to storm the place and arrest the bastard, but I convinced him to wait. To use this time to get intel. To replace Eden. So we recruited the nurse and she’s dead. I have to live with that, but I couldn’t live if you got hurt. So I forbid this.”

Liza swallowed, wanting to assure him that she’d forget about Sunnyside, that she’d stay safe for him. But this was bigger than either of them. So many innocent lives lay in the balance. And she’d risked her life before, every time she’d entered a battle zone. She could and would do it again for Mercy and Abigail. They deserved to live without fear.

“I’m sorry for the nurse who was killed. I really am. But I’m qualified and I’m careful. I won’t take stupid risks. If I even get the job.”

The pressure on her back disappeared as his hands gripped her upper arms again, spinning her to face him. “Goddammit, Liza,” he cursed from behind clenched teeth. His eyes were wild. Afraid. And still angry.

At least he no longer seemed appalled at the thought of kissing her. A small balm.

She looked up into his face, the need to soothe outweighing the urge to run. She loved him. She always had. And even though he didn’t feel the same way, simply seeing him like this, so helpless and afraid, was devastating. She needed to fix him. Heal him.

So she cupped his face in her hands, her chest hurting when he shuddered into her touch. “I survived three deployments. I was a combat medic. I’ve been shot at. I shot back, and I’m still here. I can take care of myself.”

He closed his eyes wearily. “Why? Why would you do this?”

She didn’t hesitate. “For Mercy and Gideon. Amos and Abigail. And for that young girl who’s pregnant, who must be so scared. This has to stop, Tom. I can help. I need to help.”

He opened his eyes and now she only saw despair. “But why you?”

“Why not me? I’m qualified for the job. I know about Eden. I’m not foolish. You can even wire me if you want.”

His expression flickered, despair becoming fear. Fear for her.

He stepped back, and her hands fell from his face to dangle uselessly at her sides. “We wired the nurse who agreed to work with us. She’s still dead.”

Liza was too tired to debate with him any further. He wasn’t going to change his mind any more than she was going to change hers. “I’ll see you around.”

And this time when she opened the front door, he let her go.