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South Fork, Colorado

Matt had created a workroom in his hotel suite. He wished Ryder were here to set everything up—the analyst seemed to pull computers, printers, and cables out of thin air.

Michael came in. “The hospital downloaded everything we need to a USB because it was too large to email.” He dropped it on the desk. “The delivery guy was bribed. A woman came to him with a sob story along with twenty dollars for his ‘kindness.’ I went at him pretty hard, and I don’t think he’s involved. He’s working with the sheriff’s sketch artist because he had a good memory of the woman. But you need to see the video.” He looked around. “Do we have a port to read this?”

“Shit,” Matt muttered and looked at both computers that Ryder had the hotel send up for their use. “Oh—here.” A small port on the side took the USB. Matt had grown technologically lazy because Ryder always handled computer work.

Michael took over the mouse and scrolled through a collection of MOV files until he found the one he wanted. “Hospital rooms don’t generally have cameras in the room, but because Gardner was on suicide watch, we have one.”

Michael pressed Play and spoke as Matt watched Andrew Gardner lie in bed on one side of the screen, and the nurses’ station on the left. “Last night, the delivery driver brought the flowers to the main nurses’ station, checked in, then delivered to the individual departments. You can see...here,” Michael said as a young man in a uniform with a flower on the logo walked into view. He put the flowers down and chatted with the nurse for a few seconds, then he left. Michael fast-forwarded about five minutes, then stopped when the nurse rose and brought the flowers into Gardner’s room. She put them on his side table. He was sleeping. She checked his vitals, made a note on his sheet, and left.

Matt asked, “Did the nurse get sick?”

“No,” Michael said. He stopped the replay, went through the directory, and picked out another recording. “Gardner woke briefly at midnight and didn’t seem to notice the flowers. The nurse checked him every two hours, and I confirmed that he was never alone in this wing. Here.” He slowed down the video. “At three in the morning he is awake and asks for water and help getting up to use the bathroom. We don’t see inside the bathroom, but the nurse waits outside the door and helps him back into bed. That’s when he sees the flowers.”

The nurse said something to Andrew and he nodded. She motioned to the card, and he shook his head.

“I asked the nurse about the exchange,” Michael said. “She offered to read the card, and he said he would do it later, claimed he was tired. But he didn’t sleep. A few minutes later, he sat up and the nurse came in. She told me he said he wanted to sit up for a few minutes. She kept an eye on him. As you can see, he stared at the flowers for a long time—twelve minutes.” Michael fast-forwarded through that segment. “Then, he picks up the card, opens it. Sits there again for several minutes. And...there, you see he puts the card to his face and breathes deeply. Then he leans over, puts his face in the flowers, and breathes deeply again.”

“Where are the card and the flowers?”

“Jim has them at the county crime lab, but it’s a bare-bones operation. He’s working on it and talking to the doctors in Colorado Springs where Gardner is now on life support.”

“Poison?” Matt asked.

“Likely. Jim has some ideas based on the time frame. Gardner was nauseated for about three hours after he breathed in the flowers. He had breakfast, didn’t eat much, was given more anti-nausea medication. He then went to sleep and it was about thirty minutes later that the monitors registered an irregular heartbeat and low blood pressure. Jim is factoring in a three-to four-hour window for the poison to exhibit symptoms.”

“This video suggests he knew the flowers were poisoned and he willingly breathed in the substance.”

Michael nodded. “That’s my take. And the note—telling him to breathe. I think he knew exactly what he was doing and what would happen.”

“He could have gotten help. He could have called us.”

“He lived in a cult, Matt. They’re often brainwashed. Even though he left, it’s hard to overcome the training. He lost his partner, was already suicidal.”

“They knew,” Matt said. “They knew he tried to kill himself and they gave him the weapon to go through with it.”

“Kara has developed a bond with Riley Pierce, but we need to be careful with her, too. Her mother is the leader. She’s been out of it for over three years, but she’s not really... I don’t know how to say it. Her mannerisms, the way she talks, how she talks around things. We need to watch her and be prepared for anything.”

Matt agreed with Michael’s assessment. “Kara is aware that Riley may be deceptive.” He gestured to the drawing Riley had done of Kara. “The girl drew that in less than twenty minutes.” Matt loved it. She had captured more than Kara’s physical appearance. The way she’d shaded her eyes, you could see intelligence and compassion as well as her inner strength that Matt didn’t think most artists would be able to re-create. It wasn’t perfect—Kara’s mouth was a bit larger than in the drawing, her hair was generally messier, the proportions of her forehead seemed off. But for a twenty-minute sketch, it was stunning.

“She’s talented,” Michael agreed.

“Dean thinks she can draw us a map of Havenwood. I’m skeptical. They’re giving her a break. When the delivery driver is done with the sketch artist, I want Riley to look at it. I think the best chance of us finding these people is through the property and tax records, but that takes time. We also know the property is remote, but there is an unpaved road leading to the valley. The property could be surrounded by government land. The Rocky Mountains is full of plots of private property grandfathered in when the government created different national forests. Ryder is looking into it, but again, it’s labor intensive and the records are not all in one database.”

“They have resources,” Michael said. “They traveled cross-country so must have identification to fly. I suppose they could have driven to Virginia and Oregon, but that doesn’t seem realistic.”

“Which means they’re not as isolated or remote as Riley thinks—or told us.” Matt walked over to the minibar and made himself another single-cup coffee. If Ryder were here, there’d be a pot of strong coffee and snacks—both healthy and junk food. Matt should have had him fly out with Dean Montero. He felt like he was missing his right hand.

“The craft fairs probably required a business license or ID,” Michael said. “Someone—several someones—are in the system. We’ll find them.”

“In time to save the others?” Matt wondered out loud.

With the assistance of Cybercrimes, Ryder and Zack were going over all files related to Jesse Morrison. Their IT people didn’t think they would be able to salvage the computer, but now that they’d determined that all the false birth certificates had been “issued” from the same hospital in Denver, they were backtracking to find other potential false identities. It was a laborious process that required the time and assistance of the hospital. Ryder was also working with the Social Security Administration because all the false numbers were granted from the same office. Again, it was time-consuming and they wouldn’t have the information for days, if not weeks.

Matt tried not to be frustrated. Complex cases like this were filled with days of action, then days where the investigation appeared to stop. What they needed took time to mine. But it wasn’t Matt’s job, and that made him antsy. If he tried to get in the middle of it, he’d slow everyone down. They were stuck in the tiny town of South Fork investigating Jesse Morrison’s murder and the poisoning of Andrew Gardner until Matt decided there was nothing more they could do here.

Not for the first time, he thought, What do we do with Riley Pierce?

He could arrest her for the crimes they had on her, including two fake IDs, false passport, and social security number. She would be granted a lawyer, but he might counsel her not to speak to them, or delay further interviews. Right now she seemed to be forthcoming. So he didn’t want to pull that card, and Dean Montero had agreed. He hoped not to find out what happened if they disagreed on something, because Montero technically outranked him.

He and Michael sat at the makeshift worktable and wrote up reports, reviewed evidence, and coordinated with the four agents sent from the Denver office to collect evidence at Morrison’s house and the outbuilding where they suspected one of Havenwood’s people had been hiding for the last several weeks. After a couple of hours he felt that he had accomplished something.

Matt looked at his watch and said, “Michael, I need food and air. Want to join me?”

“George and I are meeting with the Denver agents at the Morrison house in thirty. I’ll get something on my way back.”

“Let me know if there’s anything new.”

Matt left and walked down the hall to the suite Kara and Sloane shared with their witness. He opened the door to find Kara alone. “I was going to get some food. Where is everyone?”

“Riley is sleeping—at least pretending to—Sloane is at the lab with Jim, and Dean went to check into his room and talk to his boss. Who is his boss?”

“The director of Quantico, but I suspect he’s answering to Tony on this case.” Tony Greer was the assistant director who oversaw Matt’s team. “I’m getting lunch, you want me to bring you back something?”

“Actually, how about if Riley and I join you? I think she needs to get out. She feels like she’s under a microscope right now. Give us five minutes?”

“Sure,” Matt said. When Kara got up from the couch, Matt kissed her. Quick, easy. “I’ve missed you.”

She raised an eyebrow, but smiled. “No hanky-panky while we’re working.”

“We’ve been working on this case for almost two weeks,” he said. “I really miss you. We both have some vacation time coming. When this is over, let’s take a long weekend and go someplace where we don’t have to do anything. Maybe we can head to Florida and you can meet my brother.”

“Table that conversation,” Kara said, looking suddenly panicked. “Let’s catch these killers first.”

“You’re scared.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.” He squeezed her hand. “Dante doesn’t bite. Neither does Veronica. They’re both mad that I didn’t bring you down for Christmas.”

“I told you, I wanted time with my grams. She’s not getting any younger.”

“And that’s fine.” He thought about what Chris Jones said after dinner the other night. “I should have gone with you to Washington, then we could have gone to Miami together. I was being selfish.”

“You weren’t, and we’ll talk later.” Kara walked into the adjoining room and Matt let it drop.

Five minutes later, Kara came out with Riley, who was dressed in new jeans and a sweatshirt that he was certain he’d seen in the gift shop downstairs.

“She didn’t have anything clean to wear,” Kara said, “so I’m expensing this outfit.”

He didn’t explain to her that she couldn’t do that, but he’d figure something out.

“We’ll go to the restaurant in the lobby,” Matt said. If it was just him, he’d be going out, but he didn’t want to put Riley into a potentially compromising situation. One of the killers had been in town last night, and could very well still be here. If they knew about Andrew, they likely knew about Riley.

The hotel had a three-story main building with guest doors facing the interior, and individual cabins that lined the property. The lobby boasted a stone fireplace mounted with a giant moose head, a bar running down one side, and a cafe on the other. It was still ski season, and Matt didn’t know how Ryder was able to find these accommodations on such short notice.

Though it hadn’t snowed while they’d been here, they were expecting snow tonight and into the morning. Matt hoped they could get out of here tomorrow. He didn’t see what more they could do here, once they finished clearing Morrison’s house. Jim and Sloane could stay to continue investigating Morrison and processing any evidence, and the location was also close enough to Santa Fe that Jim could coordinate with the Albuquerque office on the Crossman crime scene.

But Matt would have to figure out what to do with Riley.

They ordered and while waiting for their food, Riley leaned back in the chair and began to draw in her sketch pad. She seemed to relax when she had a pencil in her hand.

After a few minutes, Matt said, “You’re very talented, Riley. The picture you drew of Kara really captured her essence, especially her eyes. You studied art in college?”

“Art and Art History,” she said without looking up. “I didn’t know there were so many different styles and mediums. At the museum where I interned, every day when I’m done I walk around and find something new, even in paintings I’ve seen a dozen times.”

“What are your plans for when the internship is over?” Matt asked.

Her face clouded, but she still didn’t look at him. “I wanted Jane to move to France with me. She didn’t want to. So I don’t know what I would have done. I might have gone back to Ashland, though I didn’t fit into the whole college scene. I don’t know what’s going to happen anymore.”

She sounded defeatist. Matt exchanged a glance with Kara.

Kara said, “You’re going to stick with us until we can find you a safe place. A place where you feel like you fit.”

“Maybe I’ll never fit in anywhere,” she mumbled. Then she said, “What about everyone else? There are others out there. Can you find them?”

“We have some leads,” Matt said, “and when we get a list, we’ll track them down.”

Kara said, “No one had last names at Havenwood, but did you all keep your real first names when you escaped?”

Riley nodded. “Jesse gave us the last names.”

“Before you left, you helped Thalia get people out. So you know some of the people who left Havenwood.”

Matt saw what Kara was getting at. “Our computer experts have backtracked how Jesse created the birth records in the hospital in Denver. They’re now going through more than a decade of records searching for a unique code that seems to be attached to the files Jesse created. It takes time.”

“Oh. Yeah. I can give you everyone’s first names, sure.” Riley brightened, looked marginally optimistic. She flipped the page on her sketch pad and started writing down first names.

“That’ll help us narrow the records we need to search, saving a lot of time.”

“Add their age and basic description if you can,” Kara said.

The food arrived and Riley nibbled as she wrote.

Matt mouthed to Kara, Good idea .

She grinned, popped a french fry into her mouth, then nodded toward the lobby.

Matt glanced over and saw Dean Montero walk in. He was about to go up the stairs when he spotted them in the restaurant. Surprised, he walked over. “Ryder Kim works miracles,” he said and took off his coat. “He managed to get me a room on short notice, albeit a cabin.” He motioned to the empty chair. “May I?”

Matt nodded. “This team wouldn’t function half as well without him.”

“I remember when you recruited him straight from the academy,” Dean said. The waitress came over and he ordered a burger, then said, “He was the top analyst candidate in his class and several offices wanted him.”

Matt knew that, of course.

Dean was watching Riley, but being directly across from her he couldn’t see what she was drawing. She was focused on her work, barely glanced up when Dean came over. Kara was the only one who could clearly see the page.

Matt’s phone vibrated. He looked down; it was Ryder. “Excuse me,” he said and got up.

Stepping out of the restaurant and into a corner of the small lobby, where he had some privacy, he answered. “What do you have?”

“The report came in from the lab on the red poppies. I sent it to you and Jim, but in a nutshell based on water and minerals, they narrowed the region to southwestern Colorado, and northern New Mexico, in the mountains. They assure me if we get a soil sample, they can test against it. But there’s one more interesting fact. The poppies have trace amounts of THC.”

“Which means?”

“They were grown in soil that also grew marijuana. They could have grown side by side, or they were stored together. It’s distinctive, because it’s not seen in these flowers in the wild.”

“That’s good as far as building a case, but that still doesn’t tell us where they are. We know from our witness that the group lives somewhere in the Rocky Mountains.”

“Zack is making progress with the finances. He found the original LLC paperwork for Havenwood, but it closed down eleven years ago.”

Around the time that the matriarch died, Matt thought.

“The LLC has a Nevada address, which is a mail drop that has also been closed for eleven years,” Ryder continued. “The mail drop doesn’t keep records that long, so we don’t know who opened it. I sent a local agent to pull the filings—they’re not online—and maybe if we cull through them we’ll find something that helps. We’ll have that tonight or first thing in the morning.”

“Terrific.”

“Nothing on Calliope Creations, but we’re looking at variations. Our best lead right now is the original Havenwood paperwork. If they paid property taxes through the LLC, we might be able to trace it that way. And based on Kara’s report from her interviews with Riley, the commune wasn’t trying to stay off the grid when it first started. We’re also in contact with several local assessors, but without the name of the payor or tract numbers, they can’t help.”

“Stay on it, Ryder,” Matt said. “Do we need to stay here?”

“That’s not my call, sir. I don’t know how fast we’re going to narrow down their location.”

“Is there a map included in the report about the poppies?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll show it to our witness, maybe it’ll spark a memory.”

“Okay—something just came in.” He paused and Matt heard the clicking of the keyboard. “The laminated poppies were not grown in the same soil as the flowers left with the bodies, and they don’t have any trace of THC. They were pressed, preserved, and laminated at the same time—they can’t determine when. The ERT unit found a laminating machine at Crossman’s residence and they’re testing it to re-create the squares. It’s likely the same one.”

“Thanks, Ryder.” Again, it was good information for the case but didn’t help them find Havenwood.

“Did Assistant Director Montero check in without a problem?”

“You are a miracle worker,” he said.

Matt ended the call, walked back to the table, and glanced at the sketch pad as he sat back down.

Riley was not only writing names, but she had sketched faces of each person. He wanted to say something but she wasn’t done and he didn’t want to disturb her.

“Everything good?” Dean asked.

“Yes. We have lab reports to review, I’ll make sure you get a copy.” He’d prefer not to talk about too many details around Riley.

“This is everyone I know who left,” Riley said. “I don’t know anyone who left after I did. It was my job to find the people who wanted to leave, and then make it happen when Thalia told me she was coming. I don’t know how she got people out after. She may not have.”

She handed the sketchbook to Matt. “This is quite impressive,” he said. “The sketches are very helpful.”

She had listed the names of the dead, but hadn’t sketched their faces.

Aside from those, there were five people on the list.

Bridget, twenty, fair skin, brown hair, green eyes. Left the year after Chris.

The sketch showed a pretty woman with a scar on her jaw line. She would be closer to thirty now.

“Do you know how Bridget got this scar?” Matt asked.

“An accident. I wasn’t there. A chain broke in the barn and hit her.”

The next two people left two years later, the year before Donovan and Andrew.

Tess & Greg. Tess is in her thirties, white, blonde, brown eyes. Greg is her partner, maybe forty or older, half black, dark hair and eyes.

The sketch had them together, a fuller sketch then Bridget, waist up, showing Greg much taller than Tess with his arm around her shoulders.

“They’d come to Havenwood the year before William died,” Riley explained. “They were newly married and their families didn’t approve of their relationship. Tess could sew anything, and Greg was a mechanic. He worked on the generators, lights, trucks, you name it. They loved Havenwood, but knew it wasn’t the same after my grandmother died. Tess became pregnant and was scared because she’d had a miscarriage early in their marriage, before they came to Havenwood. Another woman, Ginger, nearly died in childbirth. Calliope wouldn’t let her leave to get help. Ginger lost a lot of blood and was sick for months. I was good at eavesdropping, finding out everyone’s secrets, and I went to Tess and told her I could get her out.”

“Do you know if she had the baby?”

Riley shrugged.

“Do you know when she was due?”

Riley considered. “She left in June and was about four months pregnant.”

“That helps a lot.”

The next person was Cal, a teenager. “Cal, Jane, and I were all about the same age,” Riley said. “His mother brought him to Havenwood and then she disappeared. She was very odd, moody, prone to lashing out at people. I don’t know what happened to her, but I think she wandered away and got lost.

“Anyway, he was raised by my grandmother since he was eight, and when she died he sort of...well... I guess just took care of himself. He was defiant and challenged my mother and Anton especially, and he got in trouble a lot. He wanted to leave, made it known to everyone. He was an agitator and Calliope started drugging him. I mean, I don’t know for certain, but he became lethargic and unmotivated. Maybe she was poisoning him.

“I got him out as soon as I could. That’s when Jane learned that I was helping Thalia. She told me she wanted to leave too, but only if I went with her.” Riley paused. “After Cal left, Jane’s boyfriend, Timmy, was attacked by a mountain lion and died. It was awful.”

The last person was a lone female, in her late twenties, named Amber. She had sad eyes and frizzy hair. She left the year after Cal, the year before Jane and Riley.

“Amber had been born in Havenwood when it was good. She watched our world fall apart and then her partner was killed in an accident and she didn’t think it was an accident. I worried my mother would hurt her too, especially after she started asking about people who disappeared. A rumor went out that Thalia was helping people get out, and my mother put an end to people talking. No one was allowed to mention her name. But I’m positive she knew Thalia was responsible. Maybe not at first, but she must have figured it out after a few years. If Amber kept asking questions and pushing her, other people might also have started questioning her, and my mother couldn’t have that.”

“This is great information,” Matt said. “I think we can find these people.”

“They’re not going to be in trouble for what we did, right? I would feel awful if they got in trouble,” Riley said.

“As long as they aren’t currently committing crimes, we don’t plan to prosecute them. We’ll want to talk to them, that’s it. Plus, we’ll offer protection. Okay?” Matt asked.

She nodded. “Okay.”

Matt tore the sheet from the sketch pad and handed the pad back to Riley. “I’m going to scan this and get our people looking. Excuse me.”

He left and went back upstairs. This was the first time he felt they were finally making progress.

One of these five missing people might know exactly how to get to Havenwood.