Chapter 14

Special Agent Jack Stone

Hale left a message early this morning and asked to see us at the office. I texted Fallon and offered to carpool but never got a response, then drove by her cabin only to see she had already left.

The field office is swarming this morning, just the usual buzz as bodies bustle to and fro. I head to the workroom and find it surprisingly empty of what I was expecting to see. Hale stands near the front, rifling through files and Nikki is clicking into her phone.

"Where's Baxter?" I ask as I head in and shut the door behind me.

"Good morning to you, too, sweetheart." Hale frowns as he pushes the files to the side. "Baxter has asked to take a personal day. We'll be moving on without her."

"A what?" Nikki barks out a laugh. "I've been here for three years and haven't taken a personal day yet."

"What happened?" A personal day sounds suspicious. She was the picture of health when she left yesterday. Makes me wonder if this has something to do with that missing sister of hers.

"I didn't ask." Hale flips open his laptop and pulls it close. "With women, I've learned it's best not to." He shoots a glance Nikki's way. "No offense, but you seem to have more anatomy-based issues that I'd rather not delve into. I told her she can take all the time she needs. But she assured me she'd be ready and raring to go tomorrow."

"What do we know about her?" I ask, falling in a seat across from Nikki.

Hale shakes his head my way. "Enough to know that the Bureau thinks she's more than qualified to be there. They vetted her the same way they vetted you. Don't go getting a superiority complex just because she's new. Now, Nikki filled me in on your findings. Nobody's joining a cult on my watch. The two of you will head out to Ironwood and speak to the landowners. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't want you to spook them. Just let them know there was a body found not too far from their compound and if they know anything about it. Be friendly. I know it takes effort." He nods to the both of us because we just so happen to be guilty.

Nikki and I take off. I offer to drive and we make small talk about sports, the weather, the scenery. I make sure to pepper the conversation with just about everything until I get to the question I've been wanting to ask since I walked into that office.

"Has Fallon talked about her family?"

"Baxter?" She inches back as if confused as to who Fallon might be.

Can't blame her. We've trained ourselves to respond to surnames. Although I rarely use Nikki's.

"Yeah, Baxter. What's her deal? I know her mother runs the diner, but that's it."

"She's got two sisters," Nikki says quickly enough to let me know she's already done some digging. If Nikki weren't an FBI agent, she'd be known as the town gossip. "One owns a hauling business with her coke-fueled boyfriend. Rob says the other took off for greener pastures. Really pissed off her family because they wanted her back, but she's an adult, adulting somewhere else at the time."

I grunt as if that's all I care to hear. "What about the father?"

"Dead. Died a few years ago. Rob had the hots for our little Fallon way back when, but she's always believed she was too good for him."

I shake my head and chuckle, but it's forced. Something about the thought of Rob pouncing on Fallon makes my stomach churn. But he's met his match with Nikki.

"So it sounds like things are heating up between the two of you," I say. "I'd watch it. He's a walking predator."

"You just don't care for him because I said he has the hots for Fallon." She tips her head my way. "I'm beginning to think you do, too. Don't bother denying it. I have a sixth sense for these things. I'd tell you what she's thinking about you, but I'd hate to start your day off on the wrong foot."

"Funny." I take a moment to glare at the evergreens to my left just as a long honk comes from the next lane and I swerve to avoid oncoming traffic.

"Geez, Stone." Nikki swats me. "Stop daydreaming like some lovesick teenager, and get your head back in the game. You're only allowed to narrowly get us killed once per day and you've just met your quota," she growls. "Good thing. Because as lovey-dovey as this cult looks on paper, I bet they've got guns."

"Lucky for us, we do, too."