Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            Liza had wondered if he would react. Amos had told them that Pastor was rabidly Islamophobic. “I’m Liza, Brooklyn’s nursing assistant.” Nervous and terrified that she’d show it, she busied her hands applying the next red gem.

            “This is Sister Coleen,” Pastor said. “She’s kind of like a nursing assistant, too.”

            A puzzle piece dropped into place. This is the healer. The one with the computer.

            Brooklyn’s little forehead was furrowed. “Are you a nun? I knew a nun once. People called her Sister, too.”

            “Something like that,” Coleen said. “Were you in the military, Liza? You said you were in Afghanistan.”

            “I was,” Liza said. “But I probably shouldn’t speak of it. Little pitchers, you know.”

            Coleen nodded. “I know. It’s just that I’ve been . . . a little detached for the past few years. I’ve been catching up on news.”

            Liza supposed so, if a few years meant thirty.

            “I watch the news,” Brooklyn said. “On my tablet. Nurse Williams doesn’t know.” She lifted her brows, which looked a bit strange because she had no eyebrows. “Are you going to narc on me, Liza?”

            Liza choked on a laugh. “Narc on you? Where on earth—” She cut herself off because she wasn’t supposed to ask questions about Brooklyn’s personal life. “I think I’ll definitely be checking your tablet to see what you’re reading. There are news outlets for kids. Otherwise you might see stuff that’ll give you different nightmares.”

            Brooklyn had started to look defiant, but she nodded, her ire cooling. “That makes sense. But I’m not a baby, you know.”

            “No, you’re not,” Liza said.

            “How old are you?” Pastor asked Brooklyn.

            “Seven. Almost.”

            And then, as Liza worked the BeDazzler tool on the cotton gown, Brooklyn and Pastor proceeded to chat. It was the most surreal conversation Liza had ever heard.

            The man was . . . sweet. There was no other word for it. He asked Brooklyn about her hobbies and the books she liked to read. He asked her about her schooling, nodding in approval when she said she was homeschooled.

            And then he talked about his own children. Bo and Bernie. How he missed them. How they were angels in heaven now.

            And Brooklyn comforted him, patting his gnarled hand with her small, bony one.

            The two talked for an hour while Coleen quietly knitted a scarf and Liza finished the BeDazzled hospital gown. She tried to find a way to ask them where Eden was located, but every time she or Brooklyn brought up Pastor and Coleen’s home, Coleen skillfully changed the subject. So Liza continued BeDazzling, working the red gems into a heart and adding Brooklyn’s name underneath using smaller gems.

            She lingered at the table as long as she could, aware that this was an opportunity for Tom and the FBI to study Pastor—his speech, his mannerisms, and the sheer charisma rolling off the man. Liza could now understand how he’d attracted his followers.

            He honestly appeared to care.

            Unless he was allowing twelve-year-old girls to be raped in the name of marriage or allowing thirteen-year-old boys to be raped in the name of apprenticeship. Or approving the murder of anyone who disagreed with him. Or making women into slaves. Or stealing the legacies and life savings of those who believed in his smiles and lies.

            Finally, she stood and gathered Brooklyn’s things. “I think it’s time Miss Brooklyn had her lunch and a nap. Say goodbye to Pastor.”

            Brooklyn appeared ready to argue, but nodded. “I am tired. Can I see you tomorrow?”

            “I’m here for at least six weeks,” Pastor said.

            “Me too,” Brooklyn said glumly. “If I don’t die first,” she added matter-of-factly.

            Coleen gasped softly, looking to Liza for confirmation.

            “Your treatments are working,” Liza said. “So I’m going to call horse hockey on that, okay?”