Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            Park swallowed hard. “What are you offering?”

            “We can’t offer anything,” Croft said. “We’re just humble federal agents. But the federal attorneys will be chatting with you, if you have time to stick around. Sit tight.” She rose, looking very badass. “Agent Hunter?”

            They left Park in the interview room and found Raeburn in the viewing room, chuckling.

            “ ‘We’re just humble federal agents,’ ” he repeated. “I really love watching you conduct an interview, Croft. It’s like . . . art. And you also did well, Hunter. Nice job.”

            “Thank you, sir,” Tom said, pleased. “I’ll go start the warrant paperwork.”

            Croft settled into one of the folding chairs. “I’ll watch Park while you do.”

            Tom was halfway to the door when he got an alert on his phone. He stopped dead in his tracks. “Cameron Cook just got an e-mail from Hayley.”

            He took the chair next to Croft, opening Cameron’s e-mail account. “He gave me permission to view his account,” Tom told Raeburn, who’d begun to pace.

            “I know. Just read the damn e-mail.”

            “ ‘Cameron, I hope you get this e-mail. We need your help, please. Hayley’s ready to go into labor any minute and she’s scared. There’s a woman here, her name is Rebecca. She’s first wife to Joshua, who’s in charge because Pastor, DJ, and the healer are all gone to a hospital. Pastor’s hurt and gets a hospital, but Hayley doesn’t even have a doctor. Rebecca’s been promised Hayley’s baby and there isn’t anything we can do about it. They’re going to steal her baby because she got pregnant ‘out of wedlock.’ If Hayley even survives. We’re in caves somewhere near Lassen, I think, because some of the rock is black and volcanic looking. It’s cold and wet and people are getting sick. We’re almost out of food. Water is scarce. I found the compound’s sat dish and solar panels. Set up the computer outside. If it rains, the computer is fucked and I’ll lose ability to communicate. Sending coordinates. Please help us.’ It’s signed, ‘Graham.’ ”

            “Where are the coordinates?” Raeburn demanded.

            Tom sighed. “The middle of San Francisco Bay. This happened last time. They’ve got a proxy program hiding their location. They could be anywhere.” He hit reply, speaking as he typed. “ ‘Graham, this is Special Agent Hunter of the FBI. Cameron came to me for help. I’m sending you another e-mail ASAP. Click on the link. It’ll let me control your computer. Your IP address is being hidden by a proxy program, so we can’t find you.’ ”

            Using his laptop, he found the Trojan he was looking for. He’d just hit send on the second e-mail when his phone buzzed with a call from Cameron Cook.

            “They e-mailed again!” Cameron was practically shouting.

            “I know. I’ve been monitoring your account. The coordinates are still hidden.”

            “What do we do now?”

            “We wait for Graham to click on the link I sent him.” Another call came through, this time from the surveillance tech in the van outside Sunnyside. Tom’s gut twisted violently in knee-jerk fear for Liza. “I have another call coming in. I have to go, but I’ll keep you up to date.”

            “Thank you,” Cameron said fervently.

            Tom took the surveillance tech’s call and put it on speaker. “You’re on speaker with Agents Raeburn and Croft. What’s happening?

            “You are never gonna believe this,” the tech said. “Liza took the little girl to the solarium to do a craft and who should sit down and talk to them? Pastor. He’s even calling himself Pastor. I can patch you in so you can view the feed.”

            “Do it,” Raeburn snapped as the feed appeared on Tom’s laptop.

            “Are you a nun?” a little girl asked.

            “That’s Liza’s patient,” Tom explained. “Brooklyn.”

            “I knew a nun once,” Brooklyn went on. “People called her Sister, too.”

            Pastor sat in a wheelchair between the child and a middle-aged woman.