Page 25

24

Quantico, Virginia Present Day

Assistant director of Quantico Dean Montero had started his career as a cop in San Antonio, Texas. He’d been young and idealistic, had a cop for a father, a pediatrician for a mother, a childhood filled with love, discipline, and family.

His third year on the job, he was first on-scene at a suspected domestic situation. When he arrived, he heard gunshots, called for backup, pulled on his vest, and waited.

Then he heard a wailing baby. Nothing but the crying child in the silence of that house in the north San Antonio hills.

He went inside. Against all protocol and safety regulations, he went inside that house because a baby cried.

Five people were dead. Mother, three children, and the bastard ex-husband who had killed them, then himself. The oldest boy had shielded the baby who, miraculously, was unharmed.

Dean pulled the baby from under her brother’s dead body and cradled her until his own mother arrived. He didn’t remember much. A cop, with hundreds of hours of training and thousands of hours on patrol, who had seen the dead, had seen violence, had dealt with killers and sexual predators and violent addicts, refused to give up the sleeping baby until his mother came to the scene and said she would personally take care of the child.

The entire scene had shaken Dean in a way he didn’t understand at the time. It wasn’t the most gruesome crime scene he’d witnessed, but it changed him. He left the force and went to college at twenty-one, hoping to learn something—anything—to help prevent such tragedies. He studied everything he could, graduating in four years with two degrees, in education and criminal justice, and a minor in theology. He did a one-year master’s program in psychology where he wrote his thesis on cults, pulling in his experience as a cop and his studies to try to identify the types of personalities that gravitate to cults, both physical (communes) and in cyberspace, and what makes them safe or dangerous.

It was that paper that caught the attention of the FBI, who recruited him. He spent fourteen years in the field traveling all over the country identifying and exposing cults. For the last two years, he’d served as second-in-command at Quantico.

“What do you think?” Dr. Catherine Jones asked Dean after he listened to Riley Pierce’s story. “Have you heard of this place?”

He shook his head. “There are communities all over the country that have a back-to-nature foundation, as Havenwood appears to have, but few rise to the level of cult. It seems quite incredible that after more than thirty years, no one has discovered it and they have never been investigated by law enforcement.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Yes. What she said she believes as truth. Whether it is the truth, I can’t say, but she wasn’t attempting to deceive Quinn and Harris.”

“I’m sorry that Quinn took over the interview,” Catherine said. “Michael tried to steer her back to what we needed, but clearly she wasn’t listening to our advice.”

“She did well,” Dean said. “She developed a rapport with Riley, gave her permission, in a sense, to speak freely. Is it true, about her parents?”

“Yes,” Catherine said.

He sensed underlying tension between Catherine and Kara, but dismissed it. Teams that worked closely together often had members who clashed over time. With two strong personalities—like Catherine, who he had known for years and respected, and Kara, who he had yet to meet in person but now had a sense of her style—conflict was to be expected.

“I’d like to interview Riley. She has more to say, she just doesn’t know it yet. Would Agent Costa object if I joined his team in Colorado?”

“Of course not,” Catherine said.

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know Matt Costa well, but I’ve heard he’s very protective of his unit.” Dean had been trying to meet with Matt about the Mobile Response Team for some time, and while he appreciated that both of their schedules were tight, they could have found a mutually agreeable time.

“Matt is a professional,” Catherine said. “He’ll welcome expert insight.”

“Mr. Kim,” Dean turned to the analyst who ran operations for the MRT. He knew Ryder Kim from the academy; he’d graduated from Quantico a little over a year ago and Dean had been one of his instructors. “Would you please give your boss a heads-up that I’m on my way? I think I can contribute to the investigation. I’d like to interview Riley Pierce first thing in the morning, alongside Detective Quinn. But I don’t want to assign tasks to his team without his okay.”

“Yes, sir,” Ryder said.

“Would you like me to join you?” Catherine asked.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Dean said, “but you will be available for a psychological profile?”

“Of course.”

“What are you thinking at this point?”

Catherine hesitated just a moment.

“I don’t expect a detailed profile,” Dean said. “I’m looking for generalities. I understand cults, and cults can attract a variety of personality types. But a cult like the one Riley describes is highly unusual, especially that it has existed for several decades and never been on the FBI’s radar. This could be because they have little public presence. Yet no one has complained, not even a report from a parent or child that their loved one was manipulated into joining and they aren’t allowed to talk to them. That is the number one reason a group is put on my radar. How did the cult bring in new members? How did they vet them so that they didn’t have friends and family looking for them? It’s unique and interesting, and I hope Riley has answers.”

“I was initially brought in because of the unusual crime scene at the Benson homicide,” Catherine said. “The red poppies were a red flag, but now I think they are a taunt.”

“How so?”

“Thalia, Riley’s aunt, gave the poppies to the victims to remember her, as a calling card for when she visits again. While I can’t ignore the possibility that she could be involved, I don’t think she would rescue a dozen people over a decade, then start killing them.”

“I concur,” Dean said.

“While we need to look there in order to rule her out, I think—and this is a guess, which I don’t like to do—that the poppies were meant for Thalia. To tell her that they never forgot those who left the cult.”

Dean considered, nodded. “It would be logical, if Thalia was the one who found the bodies.”

“Perhaps it was their way to draw her out,” Catherine continued. “If what Riley said is accurate, and Thalia financially damaged Havenwood when she left, they may want her to pay for that. First, by killing those she helped, and second, by drawing her back so they can punish her.”

“There could be more bodies,” Dean said, “or they haven’t found the others.”

Catherine nodded. “Riley was young when her grandmother died. Her memories may not be clear. Plus, she’s been away for nearly four years.”

“That is precisely why I want to speak with her. She knows more, but it’ll take time and finesse to discern the truth. I also believe she’ll help us find Havenwood. Riley knows where the community is, she just doesn’t know she does.” Dean leaned back, thinking about everything they’d learned in the short interview. “She’s an artist,” he said. “I’m hoping to use that to entice her to draw a map. She might not know precisely how to get to Havenwood, but she should be able to recognize landmarks. At a minimum, she’ll be able to draw the faces of everyone she remembers, which may help in identification.”

Ryder stepped back into the room. “I have you on the first flight out in the morning, at five.”

“Thank you, Ryder.”

“I also let Agent Costa know you’re coming. He’ll meet you at the airport.”

Dean thanked him again. His initial assessment was correct: Costa was very protective of his team, hence picking Dean up at the airport. Being an outsider wasn’t going to be easy.

Dean wouldn’t have pushed his involvement if he didn’t think he could be an asset for their case. And after listening to the interview with Riley Pierce, he was positive he could help.