“Edge Logan. We’re working with SSA Cross.” He flipped out his PI badge. “We saw the explosion and figured you might need some help.”
“You can park over there.” The agent pointed to a spot out of the way in front of the church. Trace parked, and all of them got out.
“Skye Delaney.” Skye flashed her badge as she walked back to the agent. “We have women friends in here. We need to find them, make sure they’re okay.”
“Special Agent Joe Monroe.” Of medium height and well-built, he had a hard, serious face under his black ballistic helmet. “The women are all in the church, but you can’t talk to them until they’ve been interviewed and we’ve taken their statements. Sorry.”
“I live here,” Callie said, her chin lifting. “My name is Callie Delaney, and the women in there are my friends. I’m going in.” Without waiting for permission, she whirled and marched off toward the wide front steps leading up to the front doors of the church.
The agent swore beneath his breath. Plucking his cell out of a pocket, he made a call, spoke briefly, then hung up the phone.
“Ms. Delaney can stay, but the rest of you need to leave. This place is toxic. We had guys in hazmat suits ready to go in, but the building turned out to be wired. The explosion nixed the plan.”
Skye and Edge both looked past Agent Monroe to the thick smoke still climbing into the sky at the far end of the compound.
“Any casualties?” Edge asked.
“Lucky for us, the bomb went off before we entered the structure. Except for the women, the entire compound was empty when we got here.”
“So no sign of Henson or his goons,” Trace said darkly.
Edge softly cursed.
Henson was in the wind, just as Skye and Edge had feared. Skye prayed the forensic squad would find prints and DNA that would give the DEA the identities of the men and a way to track them.
She looked up to see Callie coming back down the steps, wiping a tear from her cheek. Worry slipped through her. They spoke for a moment, and the two of them walked back to the Yukon, Skye’s arm around Callie’s shoulders. Trace opened the rear passenger door, and Callie slid wordlessly into the back seat.
“What happened?” Edge asked Skye as she drew near.
“Of the twelve women who lived here, only six were in the church. Callie’s friend Lila wasn’t one of them.”
“Molly’s back in Denver. Callie’s here. That leaves four of them unaccounted for.”
“Two of the women had children with the men they were living with. According to Callie, she wasn’t surprised they left with their men.”
“That leaves two.”
“Lila and a woman named Stella Beeker. Callie says Stella had nowhere else to go. She was willing to take any kind of abuse from her husband rather than be out on the streets again.”
“What’s her husband’s name?” Edge asked.
“Riley. Apparently Riley Beeker and Molly’s husband, Harley Purcell, are two of Henson’s top men.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DANIELHENSON OPENED THE DOOR TO THE SAFE HOUSE SET UP FORexactly this purpose, a secure location to regroup and start the planning for a new operation. Driving all night, they had made the long trip from Blancha Springs to the small town of Hays, Kansas, without mishap. For the moment, they were safe.
Daniel’s back teeth clenched as he thought of Callie Delaney and the trouble the girl had caused. Because of Callie, Callie’s sister and Edge Logan had stumbled on their meth operation and brought in the law. He knew how the authorities worked, the slow-turning wheels that set an operation in motion. He and his men had been long gone by the time the DEA had finally arrived.
But the cost had been substantial.
Daniel stepped back to let Lila walk past him into the house. Dutch Hendrix and Harley Purcell followed, then Riley Beeker and his woman, Stella. Dutch, Harley, and Beeker were his most trusted men, the only ones who would be going with him to the new location. The rest had scattered like dust in the wind—exactly the strategy he had planned.
Lila walked over and sank down on the threadbare beige sofa. The nineteen-sixties, single-story tract house smelled like stale cigarettes and beer. The place turned his stomach, but it was just a short stay before he and his people would be on their way.
He cast a glance at Lila. Forced to come with him at gunpoint, Lila had been sullen and moody all the way to their destination. Daniel didn’t care. She wasn’t there for conversation. She would learn her duties tonight in his bed.
He shouldn’t have brought her, he knew, but he’d been wanting her for weeks. He’d sent her husband off to work somewhere else, then told her he had died in a car accident. Raul was dead. At least that part was true. He had given her time to grieve, hoping to find a new disciple in the meantime, someone to give him ease while he waited, but he had been too busy to find the right woman.
