“I’m not a detective any longer,” Mal said at the same time Wolfe muttered, “I’m not a lieutenant commander.”
“Right,” Force said, turning and moving farther into the room. “I keep forgetting. In fact, I’d like to swear you both in as agents with the HDD.”
Wolfe looked around and sighed. He wore ripped jeans, a torn shirt, and a worn leather jacket. His hair was cut short, his eyes brown, and his jaw solid rock. A scar slashed from his left temple down to his jugular. He had to be at least six-six, if not taller. “This place is worse than I thought yesterday.”
What was going on? Mal’s gaze drifted to the case rooms. “When you said this was a new unit, you weren’t exaggerating.”
“No.” Force strode through the desks and entered case room two.
Mal looked sideways at Wolfe, who returned the look.
“Why aren’t you a detective any longer?” Wolfe asked, his voice low and hoarse.
“Why aren’t you a lieutenant commander?” Mal returned.
“Rumor has it, I’m insane.” Wolfe turned and followed Force into the case room, oddly graceful for a man his size.
The guy looked insane. Rumors were often true. Mal looked around again and then made his way through the desks to the doorway, where he glanced inside. A long conference table faced a huge whiteboard set up like a murder board. His gaze instantly caught Pippa’s picture lined up with several other women to the right. The designation “An Teaghlaigh” was scrawled across the top of the entire board.
Force caught his focus. “Meansfamilyin Gaelic.”
Wolfe yanked out a chair and dropped his muscled bulk into it. “Is this my case? The one that’ll get me back into the Teams?”
“No. On this one, West will be primary,” Force said, gesturing for Malcolm to sit. “If he stays.”
Mal slowly drew out a chair, weights settling on his chest. “You have two minutes to tell me what’s going on. Then I’m out of here.” Why would Force want a guy with his skill set on this?
The huge dog from yesterday padded inside, looked around, and then found a corner to flop into.
“That’s Roscoe,” Force said easily. “He’s a good dog but has a few quirks.”
Quirks? A hundred-pound German shepherd with quirks? That sounded just freaking great. Malcolm returned his attention to the board, where a man’s picture was on the left side, clearly labeled. He had intense brown eyes, angular features, and longish brown hair. A young Johnny Depp before the eyeliner. “Who’s Isaac Leon, and why are the Greek signs alpha and omega below his name?”
Force leaned against the left wall. “Leon is a cult leader, and he claims to betheAlpha and Omega. His people call him the One.”
“Only Christ is the Alpha and Omega,” Wolfe said softly, eyeing the dog in the corner. “Your puppy looks hungry.”
“Don’t bite him and he won’t bite you,” Force said easily.
So, the hulking ex-soldier knew his Bible a little. Mal nodded toward the pictures of four women. “I’m taking it they’re members of this little cult?” All four women were beautiful, but Pippa had something special about her. Must be those eyes.
Force nodded. “Yes. Those are the ones we’ve been able to identify so far. They’ve all left the cult and have been leading lives off the grid since. We’ve only found Pippa and a woman now named Trixie.”
“Could be innocent,” Mal murmured, his gaze on the picture of Pippa. It had been taken at least five years earlier, if not more. Her hair was longer, her face fuller.
“Right.” Force reached into one of the many boxes dumped around the room and brought out a picture he taped beneath Pippa’s. “We’re still getting organized. This is her mother, Janice. We believe she’s still in the cult.”
“Why?” Mal asked, studying the picture. Unlike her daughter, the woman was a blonde, but Pippa had her eyes.
“We have more pictures,” Force said.
Mal exhaled. “All right. There are tons of cults in the country. Why the interest in this one?”
Force tapped a pencil. “First, I did an analysis of where the cult has been located and compared it to runaway rates and deaths. There’s a strong correlation.”
“Okay. Normal cult stuff,” Mal said. “Runaways and deaths can be covered by state or local cops. What else?”
“Second, I conducted a linguistic analysis, or rather had a friend do it, and the results reveal a trend toward violence and action. We have intel that the group has been planning an attack for years. Putting these women in place has been part of the plan. Unfortunately, the pictures are from years ago, and Pippa is one of only two we’ve found so far. We think her real name is Mary, by the way.”
