“He didn’t know a Jones, either. Said your name on the street is Razor—and that you’re the number two man in the biggest drug ring in town. He also told us he was being groomed for your job . . . until he decided to settle a few scores for his friends in Mexico and tried to take me out. We have him on first-degree attempted murder—and you’re on a slippery slope too. Aside from your drug activities, what do you know about Stephanie Laurent and her boyfriend?”

Jones glared at him. “Like I told the last guy—I want a lawyer.”

“You’ll get one. But it’s the middle of the night and we’re in the midst of a blizzard. It could take a while.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Suit yourself.” Zeke rose. “But let me leave you with this thought. We want the main man—and anyone who helps us identify and locate him will be giving us valuable information. Cooperation can have a positive influence on a judge.” His phone began to vibrate, and he moved to the door. “Don’t put your neck on the line for someone who’s letting you take the fall.”

He stepped into the hall, clicked the door shut behind him, and pulled out his cell.

An unfamiliar number appeared on the screen.

But the 636 area code meant it was from an outlying area.

An Ivy Hill number, perhaps?

Who would be calling from there at this hour?

He put the phone to his ear and continued down the hall. “Sloan.”

“Zeke—it’s Cate.”

He jolted to a stop, heart lurching.

Thank you, God!

“Where are you? What happened? Are you hurt? I’ve been calling County every half hour, but—”

“Whoa. I’m fine.”

She didn’t sound fine.

She sounded shaky and weak.

“I’m not buying that.”

“Let me rephrase. I will be fine. You need to listen.”

“Where are you?”

A muted conversation took place offline.

“In the vicinity of Cappeln.”

“I have no idea where that is.”

“Neither do I.” More muffled conversation. “Somewhere southwest of New Melle. Zeke—listen to me. You have to find Reverend Wilson. I think he could be the leader of the drug ring.”

Zeke blinked.

The beloved and lauded minister? The kind and caring chaplain at Ivy Hill?

He tried to wrap his mind around that notion, but it wouldn’t compute.

“Are you certain?”

“If he’s not the leader, he’s in neck-deep.”

“Okay.” Brain buzzing, he ducked into an empty interview room. “Tell me what you know—and what happened tonight.” He pulled out a notebook.

Twice while she told him her tale of terror he had to coax his lungs to keep working.