“He’s recommended by movie stars, TV personalities, and mob bosses all over the world. He does surgery from his home, but his former patients say they convalesced and received rehab services at Sunnyside Oaks Convalescence and Rehabilitation Center. Again, patients include both A-list celebrities and criminals.”

“Excellent work, Hunter. Can you find an address for Arnold’s home surgery?”

“Not in these search results. It seems like his patients agreed to keep the location secret. A few say that they don’t want to make the doctor angry in case they have family members who need help in the future.”

“What about the rehab facility?”

Tom opened a new search window and typed in the name. He was a little surprised when an address surfaced. “That’s available. The place is very private, but . . .” He turned to his primary computer and typed the name again. “It shows up on both the dark and surface webs. I’ll send you the surface link with the address, but their website is very basic and says little of substance.”

“It’s something, though. This is our first real break. I assume you haven’t traced the e-mail allegedly sent from Eden, since I haven’t heard from you on that.”

“Not yet. Still working on it.”

“Keep me up to speed. I’ll see you back in the office first thing.”

It wasn’t a request. Tom grimaced, wondering how he’d ensure Liza’s safety tomorrow. He needed to hire someone to watch her, ASAP. “Yes, sir.”

“And you will not be sharing this information with anyone, even Agent Reynolds, correct?”

Tom gritted his teeth, but forced his voice to remain level. “Of course not, sir.”

“Good night, then.” Raeburn ended the call before Tom could say another word.

Not that he’d wanted to say more, not after being chastised like a teenager skipping school. Telling Molina would help soothe the irritation. He started to dial from his work phone, but stopped himself. He didn’t want either of them to get into trouble.

Using his burner phone, he dialed Molina’s number. She answered on the first ring, wary but alert. “Yes?”

“Agent Molina, this is Tom Hunter.”

“Agent Hunter. Why are you calling from this number?”

“Because I have information.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Tell me!”

He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” He relayed the information that he’d shared with Raeburn.

“Good. Agent Hunter . . .” She sighed. “Tom. You know I’ve been recused.”

“I know.”

“Which is why you used the burner.”

“Yes, ma’am. Would you prefer that I don’t call you?”

She made a rude sound. “No. I want you to use another number.” She rattled it off.

Tom grinned. “You have a burner? Agent Molina, I must admit that you’ve surprised me.”

“Baby agents,” she muttered. “You think you invented all the tricks. But thank you. I appreciate the heads-up. Good night.”

Tom shut down his throwaway laptop and returned it to the safe. He’d been antsy and had needed to run, but now he was exhausted. Time for bed.