“So no sign of Henson or his goons,” Trace said darkly.

Edge softly cursed.

Henson was in the wind, just as Skye and Edge had feared. Skye prayed the forensic squad would find prints and DNA that would give the DEA the identities of the men and a way to track them.

She looked up to see Callie coming back down the steps, wiping a tear from her cheek. Worry slipped through her. They spoke for a moment, and the two of them walked back to the Yukon, Skye’s arm around Callie’s shoulders. Trace opened the rear passenger door, and Callie slid wordlessly into the back seat.

“What happened?” Edge asked Skye as she drew near.

“Of the twelve women who lived here, only six were in the church. Callie’s friend Lila wasn’t one of them.”

“Molly’s back in Denver. Callie’s here. That leaves four of them unaccounted for.”

“Two of the women had children with the men they were living with. According to Callie, she wasn’t surprised they left with their men.”

“That leaves two.”

“Lila and a woman named Stella Beeker. Callie says Stella had nowhere else to go. She was willing to take any kind of abuse from her husband rather than be out on the streets again.”

“What’s her husband’s name?” Edge asked.

“Riley. Apparently Riley Beeker and Molly’s husband, Harley Purcell, are two of Henson’s top men.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DANIEL HENSON OPENED THE DOOR TO THE SAFE HOUSE SET UP FOR exactly this purpose, a secure location to regroup and start the planning for a new operation. Driving all night, they had made the long trip from Blancha Springs to the small town of Hays, Kansas, without mishap. For the moment, they were safe.

Daniel’s back teeth clenched as he thought of Callie Delaney and the trouble the girl had caused. Because of Callie, Callie’s sister and Edge Logan had stumbled on their meth operation and brought in the law. He knew how the authorities worked, the slow-turning wheels that set an operation in motion. He and his men had been long gone by the time the DEA had finally arrived.

But the cost had been substantial.

Daniel stepped back to let Lila walk past him into the house. Dutch Hendrix and Harley Purcell followed, then Riley Beeker and his woman, Stella. Dutch, Harley, and Beeker were his most trusted men, the only ones who would be going with him to the new location. The rest had scattered like dust in the wind—exactly the strategy he had planned.

Lila walked over and sank down on the threadbare beige sofa. The nineteen-sixties, single-story tract house smelled like stale cigarettes and beer. The place turned his stomach, but it was just a short stay before he and his people would be on their way.

He cast a glance at Lila. Forced to come with him at gunpoint, Lila had been sullen and moody all the way to their destination. Daniel didn’t care. She wasn’t there for conversation. She would learn her duties tonight in his bed.