Q: Do you think Nathan will come home?

Eric: Well, now that I see we have proof that he’s alive, it makes me very hopeful.

Now that I see we have proof that he’s alive. The reporter must have shown Eric the photo. Abby gritted her teeth in annoyance. At least the reporter hadn’t followed up on the community Eric had mentioned. Dragging Otis’s cult publicly into this could have been disastrous.

The sound of a car’s wheels on gravel drew her attention. Wong had arrived and was parking her car behind Abby’s. The woman stepped out of the vehicle, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a plume of smoke.

Abby got out of her car and walked over to her. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“You should be thanking me, Mullen,” Wong said, her face impassive. “Do you have any idea what a shitstorm you started?”

Abby blinked in confusion. “Over the search warrant?”

“The search warrant, taking Karl Adkins into custody, driving into the Tillman farm in the first place.” Wong took another long drag of her cigarette. “Otis has been busy making calls.”

“Calls to who?”

“Pretty much everyone, I’d say. Did you know the county executive has a grandson whose life was saved when he joined the Tillman community? Or so he says. He was suicidal when someone from the Tillman cult met him.”

Abby’s heart sank. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Local newspaper loves them too. Apparently the Tillman community donates regularly to keep this vibrant form of free speech alive. They wrote a pretty nasty article about the NYPD’s witch hunt in our county.”

Abby leaned on Wong’s car. “They must have done it just to handle situations like this one—”

“They did a great job at it. I was yelled at for ten minutes straight for collaborating with your witch hunt.”

“Sorry. But it’s not a witch hunt.”

“Preaching to the choir, Mullen.” Wong shook her head and dropped the cigarette to grind it with her heel. “I didn’t drink the Tillman Kool-Aid yet. But you won’t get any more help from us. I was told to meet you and tell you to turn back.”

“What if I go on without you?”

“No way.”

Abby bit her lip. “I have an ex-member who told me Otis Tillman is using his position to sexually assault his female community members.”

“Can you prove it?”

“Maybe. I need to talk to a few of the cult members.”

“They’ll just give you the Otis Tillman spiel of the day.”

“That’s fine. I can work with that.”

Wong paused for a second. “Maybe you just need to hear them verify Karl’s alibi?”

Abby brightened. “Sure. A formality so we can release him from custody.”

“But Otis might not let you talk to them alone. In fact, he might decide not to let you talk to them at all.”

Abby smiled at the detective. “Leave that to me.”

CHAPTER 43

The gate to the compound was closed, as it had been the day before. Abby waited, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel, staring at Wong’s car. After a while, Wong switched off her engine, stepped out, and slammed the driver’s door behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Abby asked, getting out of her own car.

“They won’t open the gate,” Wong said. “Tillman is coming to meet us out here. I told you, he won’t let you speak to anyone.”

Abby took out her bag and locked the car. “We’ll see what he has to say. Let me do the talking.”

“I know these guys,” Wong said. “I can try and convince them.”

“For now let me do the talking,” Abby said, brushing her hair behind her ears. “If I don’t get anywhere after ten minutes, we’ll switch.”

Wong folded her arms. “Okay.”

Abby checked her compact mirror. Her ears protruded sideways, even redder than usual due to the morning chill. Good. “I’ll need you to be my tactical team replacement. Just loom behind me, looking, uh . . .” She turned to Wong, who leaned on her car, face impassive, arms folded, gun visible at her hip, her entire body rigid.

“In fact, just be you; it’s perfect.” Abby grinned.

“You know,” Wong said after a moment, “even if Otis does let us talk to someone, he’ll insist on remaining present.”

“I know.” Abby slid a plastic bag from her pocket. She knelt behind her car and scooped a sample of mud into it.

“Do you really think they’ll give you anything while Otis is watching them?”

Abby straightened, snorting. “Not a chance.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Wong asked, sounding frustrated.

“I’m hoping to get names of members who left the compound recently,” Abby said. “Someone who could give me information.”

“I doubt they’ll give you that either.”

Abby shrugged. “If not, I’ll look for someone who’s still capable of individual thoughts. I need someone on the inside.”

“How can you spot someone like that?”

“There are a lot of small behavioral patterns to look for. How many times do they look at Otis for reassurance? Do they recite cult jargon automatically? How do they respond to questions about their former lives? The more that . . .” She paused as she spotted the men approaching.