The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(32)



A wealth of knowledge weighted those words, though her tone didn’t give away much. Zach turned to face her fully. He didn’t have to ask if her mother hurt her. Being buried alive sure as fuck counted as abuse, and if that was normal, there was no telling what else she’d endured while growing up—or had seen since she’d become an agent.

He couldn’t ask, though. She’d shut him down the second he did.

“That look on your face . . . Zach, you can’t save everyone—not in the present, and certainly not in the past.” She touched his arm and then yanked her hand away, the move obviously involuntary. As unprofessional and straight-up inappropriate as it was, he wanted that touch again. If he concentrated, he could still feel the imprint of her hand against the fabric of his shirt, and it drove him a little nuts. Eden pushed to her feet, putting distance between them. “You gave Ruby a chance to get out, which is more than anyone can say for Elouise Perkins.”





CHAPTER TWELVE


The interview with Michael was less than illuminating, but Eden hadn’t expected much there. Michael Perkins was an abusive asshole who liked alcohol entirely too much for the well-being of anyone around him, but he wasn’t a stone-cold murderer. And while she would place bets on whether Ruby would snap in the future or stay with Michael until he snapped and finally went too far, that woman hadn’t killed her daughter.

If the Perkinses had something to do with the girl’s death, she’d be seriously surprised.

Eden pushed through the exterior door of the police station, the clear mountain air doing nothing to sweep the feeling of sickness growing in the pit of her stomach.

You knew this wouldn’t be easy. You knew it would be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

The rational voice in the back of her mind didn’t help a damn bit. Even though she knew better, she couldn’t help seeing the similarities between herself and Elouise Perkins. Loners growing up in a town that had no use for them, keeping their heads down and going through the motions until they got to the light at the end of the tunnel. Oh, Eden had had more of a wild and rebellious streak than the dead girl. She hadn’t cared that there would be pain and punishment as a result, as long as she could stick it to her mother whenever the opportunity presented itself.

But she’d stayed until she was a legal adult, same as Elouise.

“Eden.”

She realized she’d been moving fast enough that Zach nearly had to jog to keep up with her, and she forced herself to stop and take a deep breath. It didn’t help the twisted feeling knotting up her insides, but nothing short of seeing the unsub behind bars would. Rationally, she knew that putting away this piece of shit wasn’t going to solve any of her issues, but it didn’t matter.

She wasn’t okay—she was a whole hell of a long way from okay—but she could fake it.

She’d certainly had long enough to perfect the lie.

Zach eyed her like he wasn’t sure if she’d take off again. “You’re heading out to Elysia.”

Wasting time was inexcusable, no matter how unprepared she felt every time she faced down her past. “I didn’t get much yesterday. If I leave now, I can get into the commune before the afternoon worship ends and have a chance to do a little snooping without anyone looking over my shoulder.” Specifically, Martha and Abram.

He should have been happy to know she was determined to get to the bottom of this, but Zach just looked concerned. “Be careful. If you go and disappear, they’ll stonewall me and I won’t be able to get to you. I don’t know that that Britton of yours with the force of the FBI behind him could manage to get to you if Martha decides she wants otherwise.”

Something in her chest loosened even as disbelief coursed through her. “Twenty-four hours ago you were sure I was part of this. Now you’re worried about me?” She very specifically did not focus on the fact that he was right—Martha was more than capable of a standoff that would leave both innocents and cops dead.

Eden really wished it was just her paranoia making her think that.

“I never really thought you killed that girl, but I have to pursue every avenue. If you didn’t kill her, and they”—he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to where the Perkins parents were heading for their truck—“didn’t kill her, that means someone up at Elysia did. And if you’re right, they have Neveah Smith, too.”

She was right.

She didn’t want to be, but there was no shaking the certainty inside her. This was all connected, though she hadn’t quite figured out how. The details were too vague, the evidence not adding up to any specific conclusion. The tattoos linked up the cult with the murders, so she had a vague who, but not why. The why would be what brought this case to its conclusion, because she could effectively work back from there.

She just needed more information—information that could be found only in Elysia. “I’ll be fine. I have training in self-defense, and I’ve spent more hours than I care to admit at the shooting range.” She’d been at the top of her class in handgun and rifle, but saying so now felt like bragging. Not that she was carrying her gun—it was still stashed safely back in her hotel room since she wasn’t technically on duty.

“That doesn’t make a damn bit of difference if someone catches you when you aren’t expecting it.” He shook his head, hesitated, and then pushed on. “Call me when you’re done. I’m going to take you out to dinner.”

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