Special Agent Fox shifted. “Why don’t we head this way?” As she walked the outside of the room, she glanced back. “We knew there was a community where they lived, but without probable cause we couldn’t execute a search warrant on thatlocation without getting ourselves in trouble. The right to gather for religious reasons is protected, and without witness testimony that would hold up in court, or physical evidence of a crime, we couldn’t go in. After you reported a crime against you during your time at the compound, we were authorized to take over the scene from the state police and enter your reports as testimony in our investigation. The wealth of evidence that has provided has been immense.”
Carlos wondered for a second if she was going to thank him, but she didn’t continue. He held his tongue without saying,You’re welcome.
Fox entered a door at the far end, packed with boxes and files on the conference table, wide office chairs all around, and the eight-by-ten screens on the walls that were a mass of images and notes laid out on the displays they’d collected and had in digital form.
Glor slumped his tall frame into a chair. “Now we’ve got a reporter crying ‘rapture’ as if the situation in this city isn’t bad enough.”
Fox glanced at him.
Glor lifted his hands.
Carlos looked around, uninterested in talking about Neil Lorne and his theories. “This is your case file?”
Special Agent Fox tapped the bottom left corner of the nearest wall screen. A menu popped up, all down the left side. “This is the index of everything we’ve collected so far.”
She tapped the word ‘compound,’ and the screen showed a bunch of files, images, and text. Everything they’d collected after Carlos called the state police at the compound. They must have swooped in and taken over the whole case.
She turned to him. “In this room is everything we know.”
“Not that I’m not grateful you’re letting me see it,” Carlos said, “but I’m a Chicago PD officer. Probably the newest one on the force. Why tell me all this?”
“Short answer? Milwaukee Police Captain Maizie Morrow.”
“Ah.”Right.
Glor’s chair squeaked. “Captain Morrow assisted us with a case last year. Apparently, this is how she wants us to repay the favor.” His eyes narrowed, curiosity in his features.
Of course, he wanted to know why Maizie would use her clout with the FBI to get Carlos of all people access. Did he intend to explain all the ins and outs of how the Banbury-Jaxton/Ryson clan interacted? “Maizie and I are family.”
Fox sat on the edge of the table, shooting him a frown. “She’s Kenna Banbury’s adopted daughter. What does that make you?”
“Family.” Carlos stood still.
“Please don’t tell me one of them is wrapped up in this.” Fox winced. “Are we going to have to contend with Kenna Banbury coming here and solving this case for us?” Those last few words had a distinct tone. Not something Fox wanted to happen.
“I’m looking formysister. Not a Jaxton.” He didn’t intend to explain about Eliana, who they didn’t seem to think was a factor. Bringing her real name into this now would draw attention to her, but not in any way she wanted. After all, people would only assume she was here to investigate this case.
When they’d been out at the compound, she’d used an ID that said her name was Hope Adams. Where she’d procured that, he hadn’t asked, but he knew why she didn’t want people to know who she really was. It would keep this whole thing simpler if they thought she was just some average civilian.
Carlos glanced between the agents. “Kenna and her husband are in Alaska, anyway. Nowhere near Chicago right now.”
Glor had his phone out. “He’s right about that. She’s working on some serial murder case up there.” The agent frowned. “Huh. This article says they might’ve gone missing.”
Carlos’s phone rang in his pocket, but he ignored it.
Fox eyed him. “If Captain Morrow thinks you might be able to help us, then we’re interested in what you have to say.”
They really thought he had information? By the look of things in here, they’d already taken possession of everything from the compound. “My sister, Luci Ryson, is why I’m here. The only reason I’m here.”
Fox selected another tab on the menu, and two of the whiteboard sized screens flickered to display rows and rows of pictures. All of them were young women between seventeen and late twenties.
Carlos wandered along the edge of the table, scanning each image. Looking for his sister.
“These are the women we believe are victims of the Reverence Sisters.”
“Victims?” He turned to Fox.
“Missing, never found. Apart from one woman who escaped them, we don’t know of any others who got out.”
