Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            “He’s turned out like his father, then,” Merle said heavily. “Has he been in prison, too?”

            “We don’t know,” Croft said kindly. “But he is dangerous. He might not bother you, but if he does, please let us know.”

            “We will,” Merle said, his voice faltering. “This . . . is not what I expected.”

            Tom believed him and it seemed that Croft did, too. “Can we see the car?” he asked.

            Merle rose unsteadily, Joni at his side. “Of course. It’s this way.”

            Tom and Croft followed the couple to the back of the house, passing along a wall covered in framed photos. Tom paused at one that caught his eye—two photos side by side, both of small boys about four years old, both blond, nearly identical in appearance. But one was in color while the other was black-and-white and appeared much older.

            “That’s Waylon as a baby,” Joni said when she realized what he was staring at. “Waylon and DJ at the same age. There’s a strong resemblance, isn’t there?”

            “There really is.” Tom met Joni’s gaze. “May I snap a photo of these pictures?”

            “I don’t see why not.” Joni stepped back, allowing Tom to take the photo.

            “Thank you.” Tom scanned the wall. There were several photos featuring an older couple—Merle’s parents, he figured. In one of the photos, Merle and his father stood in front of the classic Camaro, wearing matching grins. There was another photo with the older couple and DJ, dressed for church. But there was no sign of Pastor’s wife and children. “No photos of Margo and the twins?”

            “Mom has a few at the nursing home,” Merle said. “The rest are in storage. Why?”

            Tom smiled at him. “Just curious. I apologize if I overstepped.”

            “No worries.” Merle jerked his head in the direction they’d been walking. “Car’s this way.”

            Tom whistled softly when Merle opened the door to the garage. “Sweet.” It really was. Even from several feet away, it was obvious that the car had been well taken care of.

            Tom wondered where Ephraim had kept the car all this time. They might never know now.

            “Your forensics guys won’t hurt her?” Merle asked.

            “They’ll take good care of her,” Croft assured him. “We’ll just wait out in our vehicle for the flatbed truck to arrive. Can I have the keys?”

            Merle handed them over reluctantly and Tom and Croft returned to the SUV, where Croft called for a truck while Tom called San Francisco PD about the Camaro.

            A half hour later, a truck was on its way and Tom had confirmed that the Camaro had only been cursorily searched by SFPD. “Not sure if the car will yield anything new, but it can’t hurt to check,” he told Croft.

            “I agree.” She glanced up at the Belmonts’ house. “I believed them.”

            “I did, too.”

            “Why did you ask for the photo?”

            Tom shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not sure. Maybe just to fill in some gaps on my case wall.” He’d been collecting documents and photos for the past month, keeping them organized both on the wall of his office at work and at his home office. “Maybe I’m just curious.”

            “Curiosity isn’t a bad thing,” Croft said. “So we know Pastor’s wife is still alive. Not sure what that gets us, if anything. We also can be fairly certain that DJ hasn’t contacted his aunt and uncle. So we can cross them off our list and refocus on trying to track him through his connection with the Chicos and with the rehab center where Pastor is. Sound like a plan?”

            Tom nodded, aware that she was kindly telling him to stop chasing after Eden’s past. “Sure.”

            She gave him an understanding smile. “It’s okay, Tom. We’ll likely chase down a ton of leads before we find the right one. It’s the nature of the business.”

            Tom managed to smile back. “Thanks. I’ll dig into the dark web when we get back. If DJ is selling drugs for the Chicos, there should be some record somewhere.”