Chills danced across Evelyn’s skin. After Butler’s display with the phone, she absolutely knew there was no way she could get her gun out of its holster before he pulled the trigger on both of them.
If he did, she’d never get the chance to decide what to do about her FBI career. Never get to say goodbye to her grandma. Never get to figure out where her brand-new relationship with fellow agent Kyle McKenzie was headed.
She should’ve taken more time off after solving her friend’s case. She should’ve extended that vacation with Kyle, never mind what the FBI wanted. She thought of that quiet, secluded beach, with nothing for miles but ocean and sand and Kyle’s deep blue eyes staring back at her...
For that one brief week, she’d felt like a different person. Someone whose life wasn’t completely consumed by her job. Someone who didn’t have an overwhelming need to chase down the demons of her childhood until they were all she could see.
She’d felt normal, something she couldn’t remember feeling in a long, long time. Not since her best friend had disappeared from her life, which had started her down the path to becoming a profiler.
With Kyle, she’d felt as though the whole world was finally beginning to open up. Then she’d gone back to work, thinking everything would be different.
But for the past three months, she’d felt lost. Without purpose. A feeling she’d never experienced in her life.
And now, here she was, back in the job that had taken everything she had. And if she didn’t get her profiling instinct back, it just might take her life.
“Now toss over your gun. Real slow,” Butler said.
Jen reached for her weapon and Evelyn tensed as she watched. She readied herself to dive for the ground if Jen didn’t toss it. Readied herself to reach for her own gun as a desperate last effort if Butler’s finger moved inside the trigger guard of his AK-47.
Jen hesitated only a second before tossing the gun into the brush.
Then the sudden rumble of a powerful engine sounded from around the corner. A big black truck hurtled past her, close enough to blast heat across her back and rip hair loose from her bun.
It kept going, through the gate and out of the compound. A moment later, another man turned the corner, arms swinging loosely, an AK-47 slung over his shoulder.
This guy looked like a cult leader. Taller and leaner than Butler, he had sandy blond hair that curled around his ears and a face that was probably attractive when he wasn’t scowling.
Evelyn risked a glance at Jen, wondering who the newcomer was, but Jen stayed silent.
Still, Jen and Butler were obviously familiar with each other, so this must’ve been the person Jen had spoken to when she’d first left the SUV. The one she’d claimed to know, sounding surprised.
“We’ve got to take care of them,” Butler said in the sort of casual tone that was more appropriate for ordering dinner than discussing the murder of two federal agents.
The new guy shook his head. “I don’t think you should do that.”
“They could ruin things for us.”
“It’s a problem,” the blond guy agreed. He was dressed in camouflage, too, but wore no hat or gloves. Although his pale skin was ruddy from being outside, he looked comfortable.
Evelyn spoke up. “There’s no problem here.”
“Shut up!” Butler shouted at her. “This is the start of everything,” he said to his companion. “It doesn’t matter what we do with these two.”
“Killing them will just bring more feds,” the other man argued as Evelyn tried to work out his role.
Other than as a possible voice of reason. She inched her hands down slightly, praying that this guy could convince Butler to let them go.
If this was set up like a typical cult, maybe he was a trusted higher-up who took orders from Butler and enforced them with the followers? Cults often referred to guys like that as lieutenants.
Evelyn glanced quickly around. But if she was right about that, where were the followers? Were there any? If so, why hadn’t they appeared when the gunshot went off? And what did Butler mean when he said this was “the start of everything”?
“That one—” Butler waved his gun at Evelyn “—is the newbie. The other one, Jen Martinez here, has been sniffing around our place for months.”
“Who cares? We’re not doing anything wrong,” the new guy said smoothly.
Except owning illegal weapons, but Evelyn didn’t mention that.
“Well, now I can’t let them leave,” Butler said, and there was a little too much glee in his tone.
Evelyn glanced at Jen again, willing the other agent to look at her. How were they going to get out of this? Did Jen have any kind of connection with Butler or the new guy that she could use?
Talking seemed like their best bet, especially now that there were two cultists with weapons and Jen was unarmed. But Evelyn couldn’t decide which approach to take.
Jen kept her gaze firmly on Butler. “Of course you can let us leave,” she told him. “You haven’t taken things too far. Not yet. Let’s keep it that way.”
“Maybe you should lock them up,” the blond guy suggested, ignoring Jen. “Drive their vehicle out of here.”
“Why would you need to do that?” Evelyn asked. “If nothing’s happening—and we certainly haven’t seen anything that would require our attention—why would you want the FBI out here searching for us?” Before he could respond, she added, “And if you think her supervisor doesn’t know we’re here, you’re mistaken. This is the first place they’ll look if we don’t show up in the next hour.”
Butler shrugged. “Can’t be helped.” He nodded at his lieutenant. “Maybe you’re right about hanging on to them for a bit. Check them, Rolfe.”
“Ward.” Jen tried again as Rolfe frisked her for any hidden weapons. “I’ve always been straight with you. This isn’t necessary.”
He ignored her and then Rolfe was standing behind Evelyn, close enough to make all her muscles tense. He emptied her holster and took her cell phone. Then he patted her down so thoroughly that Evelyn knew he was practiced at carrying concealed.
She was convinced he had another weapon on him. Not that she could do anything about it.
He gestured toward the building, and she and Jen began walking in that direction. Jen looked shell-shocked and furious, but she stared straight ahead as her shoes crunched on the frost-covered grass. She made no further effort to protest, almost as if part of her was glad they were getting to see inside the compound.
Butler walked close behind them, his AK-47 leveled inches from Evelyn’s back.
“You staying?” Butler asked gruffly, and it took Evelyn a minute to realize he was talking to Rolfe.
She frowned and glanced over her shoulder.
Rolfe had fallen into step behind Butler, but his eyes locked on Evelyn’s as soon as she looked at him.
She stumbled, then averted her gaze. Why wouldn’t Butler’s lieutenant stay? Unless he wasn’t a lieutenant. Unless he had some other role at the cult. But what role would require him to leave? Then again, why had the driver of the truck left?
What the hell was going on at the Butler Compound?
* * *
“You’re going to Montana,”