A Deadly Influence (Abby Mullen Thrillers #1)(105)

“I believe everything your community did was well intentioned,” Abby said. “Tell me about Friday. Did Karl go there that day?”

“No. Like some of us testified, Karl was with us.”

“Really?” Abby frowned. “Because half an hour ago, I talked to one of your members, and he clearly told me that he saw Karl leave.”

“Then whoever you talked to was wrong.” His face remained blank, but his eyes glazed. He was trying to figure out who had talked to her. She’d purposefully let slip the gender pronoun to make it sound specific. Was he running the names through his mind now, trying to figure out who was already breaking?

She leaned back and waited, hoping Carver would take the cue. And he did.

“I’ve had enough of this,” he growled. He placed the laptop he’d brought on the table and opened it, dragging his chair even closer to Otis as he did so. “You know, our forensic team took your flash drive. Guess what we found there?”

He turned the laptop so Otis could see the screen. “You’re a very tidy person, Tillman; I’ll give you that. There’s a bunch of videos named after many of your community members. And you know what those videos contain? I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. All their private confessions.”

Tillman stared at Carver in contempt. “Just like the police to look through the private confessions of Christians.”

“They’re not just confessions,” Carver said. “You know that, right? There’s quite a few of them that end with you getting a blow job or having sex with your community members.”

“It was all consensual. I don’t expect you to understand; it’s part of the cleansing process.”

“Well, I’d argue that if you’re their preacher, landlord, and boss, then none of this is consensual. But we don’t even need to go there, because three of your community members in those videos are minors. So you’re going to prison for multiple cases of statutory rape, asshole. And you know what I’m going to do? I’ll make sure everyone in that prison knows you like to rape little girls. It’ll make you really popular.”

“Your threats don’t intimidate me, Detective. What did you think? That your petty bullying would make me burst into tears? You’re not the first person to try and bring us down, and you won’t be the last. What next? Will you turn off the cameras and hit me? Put a bullet in my head? Go ahead. Kill me. Kill all of us. For having our own opinions on what’s right. For trying to change the world.”

Abby frowned. “It seems like you feel we’re unjustly persecuting you.”

He snorted. “I’m blameless and upright.”

“I don’t care about upright, but you’re not blameless,” Carver said. “With the rape, you’re already going to prison. And we have possession of illegal firearms. I wonder what we’ll find once we go through all your papers and computers.”

“We needed the assault rifles to protect ourselves,” Otis shot back. “You proved that when you raided us and murdered Karl. I am a preacher, Detectives. I have a large community. I try to lead them well, but sometimes, in pursuit of change, they stray.”

“Maybe,” Abby said. “But how do you think it would look in court?”

“My community will all testify on my behalf. It will look like what it is. A brutal witch hunt.”

“Will they?” Abby asked. “All of them?” She exchanged glances with Carver, who smirked.

Otis’s eyes shifted between them. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to understand the love between a preacher and his—”

“Oh, we got an eyeful of that love, thanks,” Carver said, leaning in toward Otis. “What I’m wondering is, Will that love hold? With all the charges your community are facing. Every person whose fingerprints are on those assault rifles will be charged. We will use every shred of evidence we find in your office. We have several incarcerated already. Do you think they’ll still feel that love when we give them a deal? And then imagine their testimonies in court.”

Otis was backed against the wall. His face was etched with contempt, but underneath Abby glimpsed what she was looking for. Fear.

“Like I said, we’re only interested in Nathan Fletcher. If you tell us where he is—”

“I don’t know where he is. We never laid a hand on him.”

“We have solid forensic evidence that says different,” Carver said. “Shoe prints that match those boots everyone in your community wears. And we have evidence that suggests someone used one of those knives you people have to murder two people. Murders connected to the Fletcher kidnapping. Once we match our evidence to the right boots—and the right knife—it’ll be a solid case. You will never see daylight again.”

“The boots we use are common—”

Carver slammed his hand on the table. “We are conducting these interrogations with each and every one of your community. How long before someone cracks? How long before someone tells us exactly about your plan to kidnap the Fletcher kids? I’m giving it two hours tops.”

“Well, it’s too bad you killed Karl,” Otis snapped back. “Because even if there was such a plan, David would never tell you anything, and—”

His eyes widened, and his mouth snapped shut. Then, to Abby’s surprise, his body relaxed, and he turned to her.