The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(15)

It was a lie, but a good portion of them never figured it out.

“I’m going to need to know when the girl went missing.” Now it was her turn to hesitate. Putting herself out there in assistance was one thing—barging completely into the investigation was another. A thin line, but one she needed not to cross. If Britton found out she was dipping her toes into this mess, he’d yank her out of Montana so fast her head would spin. Not to mention my meddling could completely compromise the investigation if it comes to light that someone from the cult is the unsub. “I might need to see the body, too.”

“Impossible.” Zach leaned forward again and lowered his voice. “I don’t trust you. I think your showing up is too damn convenient by half, even if you check out. But putting that aside, if you’re right and this links back to Martha and her flock, I can’t have your prints anywhere on the investigation. You’re too close to it, and any defense attorney worth their salt would use that as leverage to allow their client to walk.”

He’d checked her out. She forced her shoulders to relax. Of course he’d checked her out. She would have done the same thing. It didn’t change much, other than the fact she was going to have to call Britton and do damage control. She might be here on her own, but that didn’t mean her actions couldn’t cause potential negative consequences for the BAU.

And he was right. If he’d officially requested help from the BAU, they never would have sent her. “Then why are you agreeing to this?”

“Because I don’t have another goddamn option.” His blue eyes showed frustration for a moment before he got it back under wraps. The man had a hell of a poker face.

The man had a hell of a face in general.

She hated the blush that rose at the thought. She wasn’t here to check out the local flavor, no matter how attractive that flavor was. But it had been a long time, and she was only human. She cleared her throat and did her damnedest to focus on what really mattered, rather than her hormones trying to get the best of her. “It’s possible that the cult has nothing to do with this.”

“How likely do you think that is?”

That they weren’t involved? She wanted to say she was certain no one in Elysia was, if only because it would give her an out she desperately wanted, but she couldn’t lie to him. “The tattoos aren’t something they advertise, and it isn’t something a charity case of Martha’s would have—or even know about. If this girl was leaving, she wasn’t a full-fledged member—not yet, at least—so Martha never would have tattooed her. Not officially. There are approximately two hundred active members of Elysia at the compound, and another hundred scattered strategically in small groups in nearby cities, all of whom have knowledge of the tattoos. Though the fact she was found here seems to indicate it was one of the local group responsible. Take out children and minors and you have about one hundred and fifty suspects.” Too many, but still a smaller pool than they would have otherwise. It gave them a place to start investigating, which was worth its weight in gold.

He raised his eyebrows. “For someone who hasn’t been back in town since she was a teenager, you have a whole hell of a lot of knowledge about your mother’s operations.”

“My mother is the head of a cult.” The words came out flat because she was fighting so hard to keep her turmoil of emotions repressed. “A cult that I grew up around, though her manipulations never quite stuck.” Mostly. “A good portion of cults never do more than steal people’s life savings and get some free labor, all of which lines the inner circle’s pockets. But a small percentage turn violent and/or suicidal. I might not have been back here, but I’d never forgive myself if I knew things were shifting that way and didn’t try to stop it.” The Elysians had all the markings of a cult that would turn, though she couldn’t tell him that without getting into exactly what practices they believed in.

Something she did her very best never to think about.

“Like now.”

“Like now.” She caught herself rubbing her sternum where the key tattoo had been forced on her. It didn’t take much to slip back into that night when she was seventeen. She hadn’t wanted the ink any more than she’d wanted the others, but she’d flat out told her mother no that time.

So Martha had ordered Abram to hold her down and had done it while Eden screamed and cried and begged her to stop.

She shook herself, fighting off the memory. “I’ll go out there in the morning.”

Something like compassion flickered over Zach’s face. “They really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” She just hoped it was true.

He grabbed a napkin and pulled a pen out of his jacket to scrawl on it. “You get into trouble—you even think you might be over your head—you call me. You hear?”

She accepted the napkin and tucked it into her pocket, deciding not to comment on the fact she already had his number in her phone since he’d called her to set up this meeting. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was offering her a life raft. “I thought you didn’t trust me.”

“I don’t.” He shrugged. “But I can’t have you getting yourself among the victim list if someone out there is responsible. So be careful.”