The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(42)
Already feeling more in control, she turned off the engine and climbed out of the car. Eden double-checked and then triple-checked that she’d locked it before heading into the station. If someone was breaking into her car—and potentially her room at the B&B—she wanted to make sure it was actually happening and not a figment of her imagination.
It’s not my imagination.
It’s probably not my imagination.
God, it might be my imagination.
Zach appeared in the doorway, the sight of him stopping her in her tracks. It didn’t matter that she’d just seen him this morning. He was just so solid, like he could hold the weight of the world on his shoulders and not miss a beat. Like maybe he could even shoulder her problems for a little while and give her the pillar to lean on that she desperately craved.
It’s not his burden to bear. Asking him to do so is a dick move.
He frowned. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“I don’t know.” She wasn’t much of a breakfast person, and knowing there was the chance of a confrontation of the maternal sort upset her stomach too much to think about food. She wasn’t particularly hungry now, but she recognized the look in his eyes. Britton sported it from time to time. Her boss took it almost personally if the people under his charge weren’t taking care of themselves. And I haven’t been.
“Rachel can wait.”
She held up a hand. “No, she can’t. We don’t know for sure that Neveah and Elouise are connected, but if they are, our timeline for finding her alive is shrinking by the hour. I have some snacks in my purse. I’ll eat while you drive.”
He looked like he wanted to argue but finally gave a short nod. “Let’s go.”
The snacks were a sleeve of peanuts she’d tossed in there before her flight because sometimes her stomach got upset while in the air. Knowing where she was headed had only made that feeling worse. Eden climbed into the passenger seat of Zach’s cruiser and pulled out the peanuts, though she wasn’t sure she could tolerate even that.
She looked over to find Zach watching her again. “What?”
“We’re going straight to dinner after this. That isn’t a meal, especially if you haven’t eaten since last night.” He sounded so grumpy about it that she laughed despite the circumstances, which only made him frown harder. He turned out of the small station parking lot. “Between you and Chase, you’re turning me into a nagging fishwife.” Zach glanced over. “You wouldn’t have known him back when you were a kid. He moved here a few years ago from Seattle. He worked homicide over there.”
“That’s a big change.” She could understand, though. When it came to law enforcement, a lot of cops washed out, leaving them to seek solace where they could. A small town like Clear Springs offered stability and the ability to keep on being a cop, but without the constant emotional turmoil of seeing the worst humanity had to offer day in and day out.
Usually.
“His uncle used to bring him fishing near here when he was a kid. He kind of washed into town one day and stayed.” He sighed. “He moved here to get away from all that bullshit, and then this happens.”
She still hadn’t seen the coroner’s report that he’d promised to bring, but she’d gleaned enough facts to know that one of Zach’s deputies had been called in on a trespassing report and found the body. If it hadn’t been Henry, that only left Chase.
“He blames himself. There’s nothing he could have done, but he still thinks if he’d shown up sooner, she might have had a chance.”
Eden knew about guilt like that. So often, her cases were a matter of waiting for the next victim to show up, to tell them more about the unsub and bring them closer to bringing the bastard in. Guilt from that knowledge could break a person—it did break agents on a regular basis. From his tone, she got the feeling that Zach understood. “He’ll get through it. He has you in his corner, and it sounds like you’re doing a good job of keeping an eye at him.”
“I try. Fuck, I try.” He hesitated and then cursed. “You should know the Smiths came to see me this afternoon. They’re half a second from forming a mob and heading out to Elysia to demand your mother deliver Neveah into their waiting hands.”
“It wouldn’t work.” She popped a few peanuts into her mouth and watched the houses roll by—well-maintained, picture-perfect little snapshots that hid a myriad of sins. Not everyone was a murderer or abusive, but she’d given up on the idea of a perfect childhood, free of trauma. The world was an ugly place. Unfortunately for so many, the most dangerous predators were often sharing space beneath the same roof.
“I know.”
He didn’t, though. She ate a few more peanuts. “No, you don’t understand. Martha’s power is all tied up in her followers’ belief that she’s above the rest of us basic human folk. It is, at its very heart, an us-versus-them sort of thing—us being the Elysians and them being every other person on this planet. It’s why she doesn’t have to instill rules forcing them to stay on the commune grounds—they view the outside world as foreign and deplorable. They don’t want to leave. If a mob shows up, they will shut the gates, and it might push Martha and her inner circle into doing something regrettable.” She ate some more peanuts. “As in six feet beneath the ground regrettable.”