The man who stepped out of the SUV was younger than Edge had expected, late thirties, maybe forty. Sheriff Matt Akins had very short blond hair and blue eyes. His black uniform was perfectly fitted, his shoes freshly shined.
“You’re Logan?” the sheriff asked as he approached.
“Edge Logan. Thanks for coming, Sheriff.”
“You called about Daniel Henson’s congregation, Children of the Sun. Did you have some kind of problem out there?”
“You might say that.” Edge flipped out his badge wallet, displaying his PI license. “My client is a woman whose daughter is living out there. She’s concerned for her child’s welfare, as any mother would be.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Henson won’t let her speak to her mother. No phone calls in or out. Her sister came to see her, but she wasn’t allowed to talk to her. Her mother hasn’t heard from the girl in over two months.”
“Henson has a lot of rules. One of them is no communication with the outside for the first six months. The women have to agree to that before they’re accepted into the group.”
“I realize that. Do you have any idea what’s going on out there, Sheriff?”
“Blancha Springs is a long way from nowhere. We get a lot of reclusive individuals out here. The solitude they find is part of what attracts them. As far as I know, all the women are adults. They have the free will to do whatever they want.”
“What if they want to leave?” Edge asked.
“Henson’s group has been there a couple of years now. New members sign up. Maybe some of the original members have left—I don’t know. It’s none of my business unless they’re involved in something illegal.”
“Are they?”
“Do you have evidence of wrongdoing, Mr. Logan? Or are you fishing to see what you can find out? Maybe you just want to justify the money you’re getting paid.”
Edge ignored the insult. Alienating the sheriff was not a good idea, not when he needed the man’s help. “I’m trying to check on the welfare of a young woman not yet of legal drinking age. I was hoping you could help me with that.”
“I’m afraid not. As I understand it, all the women are over eighteen. Your client’s daughter signed an agreement—that’s the way it works out there. I’m sure if she wanted to leave—”
“That’s the problem, Sheriff. Once a woman is in there—like it or not—she’s forced to stay.”
Akins frowned, his pale eyebrows drawing together. “Are you telling me Henson keeps those women out there prisoners?”
“Not all of them. Some of them are perfectly happy with the arrangement. Others don’t have a choice.”
“But you don’t have any proof.”
“If you talk to some of them, maybe you’ll be able to get some proof.” He could see Henson didn’t like where this was headed, but he finally bowed to reason.
“All right, fine. I’ll go out there and talk to your friend’s sister. What’s her name?”
Edge knew better than to mention Callie. The consequences could be brutal.
“How about we just go out there and ask around?” Edge suggested. “See what some of them have to say?”
The sheriff looked him over, his straight posture, the square set of his shoulders, the way he was standing, as if he were relaxed but at the same time ready for anything that might happen. Which he was.
“What are you . . . former military?”
“That’s right.”
“Army?”
“5thSpecial Forces.”
The sheriff said nothing, but a muscle tightened in his cheek. “Henson does a lot for this town. You better know what you’re talking about.” He went over and opened the passenger door of the SUV. “Get in.”
