Mal nodded, studying the IDs. “Pippa, Patty, and Polly. What were the names she used in Washington and Florida?”
“Paige and Pamela,” Nari said. “It could be a smart move, just so she remembers to turn around if somebody new says her name.”
Force frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“Me either actually,” Nari murmured. “You say her name is Mary?”
“That’s only what our CI said. That her name was Mary in the cult,” Force said.
Mal leaned forward. “Do we have a birth certificate?”
“No,” Force said. “Can’t find it.”
“Her name, her real name, started with a P,” Mal said, knowing it deep down. “Before they joined the cult. She’s not letting go of that.” Maybe there was hope for her. “I could just ask her.”
Nari turned suddenly toward him. “I don’t think we’re there yet. If you ask her, she’s no longer a source. What if you get into the cult and need information from her?”
“Agreed,” Force said. “You don’t broach the truth until after you’re under. She fits the profile, Mal. She has fake identities there’s no way she could buy, and she has contacts in construction. We havepicturesof her at the cult.”
“She uses a false name and only goes places where cameras can’t catch her,” Wolfe said. “I watched her after the shoot-out. She purposely put herself and her friend in a position the news cameras couldn’t see. And when she finally moved, she kept the blanket on as well as the hat—and the dyed hair was a nice touch.”
Force clicked off the screen and turned on the lights before the cat could complain. “If you want, I could meet with her. Profile her for you.”
Mal studied the unit leader. It was time to trust or not. “Okay. I’ll arrange something. Maybe a dinner?”
The click of heels kind of scraped the cement outside the door. Mal and Wolfe instantly sat at attention. The elevator hadn’t dinged, and everyone in the basement right now sat inside case room two.
“Oh, man,” Force said, his chin dropping to his chest. “Did you leave your door open, Nari?”
The shrink looked over, blinking. “Well, yes. Why?”
Roscoe clopped into the room, his front paws in her high heels. His tongue lolled out and he doggy grinned.
Wolfe’s jaw dropped open.
Malcolm looked, shook his head, and looked again. “The German shepherd is wearing high heels.”
Nari angled her neck. “He’s a cross-dresser?”
“No,” Angus said. “He has a complex because of another, bigger dog. I’ve told him he’s really big, and he is, but any chance he gets to use heels or boots, the bastard puts them on his front legs.”
The dog overturned a shoe, and it scraped against the concrete.
Nari winced. “Dude. Those are Jimmy Choos.”
The dog flipped the pump over and slid his left paw back into it. His tail wagged enthusiastically.
Mal glanced sideways at Angus. He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or bemused. “You said he had a few quirks. Any chance you’ll hit us with the rest of them right now?”
“No,” Force said shortly. “Hopefully, we’ll have worked the other ones out before they become an issue. This one, this one is okay.” He winced. “Except he gets bored with the shoes and eventually chews them up.”
Nari’s gasp only made Roscoe’s tail wag harder and faster.
Wolfe shot Force a look. “And you said I couldn’t have a cat.”
Malcolm looked around the room. “Just so we have this straight. I’m going undercover in a cult that might be planning to use explosives to harm a lot of people in the name of the Bible.” He tried to quiet the rioting in his head. “I’ve slept with the mark, who we all know I want to save. The new shrink wants to get into my head, and I don’t want that.”
“I really do want inside your head,” Nari said, her eyes lighting up.
