“Brother Joshua behaved admirably under pressure,” Pastor finished. “He would make an excellent elder.”

To an untrained observer, it might have seemed that Pastor was asking for input. DJ knew better. He exchanged a glance with Coleen, long enough to see her slight grimace, because she didn’t like Joshua. Well, mostly she didn’t like Joshua’s first wife, and if he was chosen as an elder, his first wife would be elevated in status as well. But Coleen’s expression was wiped clean by the time Pastor lifted his gaze from his hands. That was the purpose of him looking at his hands—to give the receiver of orders time to appear okay with his edicts.

“I’ll be ready to brief him when I return,” DJ promised. Like that was ever going to happen. Once he had control of Eden’s money, he’d leave Joshua and Coleen and all the other Edenites to do whatever the fuck they wanted.

Pastor stared at him through narrowed eyes. “Find Amos’s child. Bring her to me. I will not allow her to become a symbol of concern or discontent in my flock. Make it your priority.”

DJ gritted his teeth. The “or else” was always left unsaid. “Yes, sir. If she’s in foster care, it might take a while to find her and, once I do, extracting her will be a delicate operation.”

But DJ knew that the child wasn’t in foster care. Her father, Amos, had reconnected with Mercy and Gideon, and there was no way those two would allow Abigail to go into the system. Once he found Mercy, Abigail wouldn’t be far. It would, however, buy him more time to snip off all of his loose ends.

Pastor sighed, visibly irritated. “I suppose that’s true. How much time will you need?”

DJ pretended to ponder. “A week? Maybe more.”

Pastor looked to Coleen with a frown. “Do we have enough supplies to last us a week?”

Coleen shifted uncomfortably. “It’s going to be tight. We have the chickens that we’ve been using for eggs. We can slaughter them if we must. We’re running out of feed, so they’d starve soon, anyway. But we need fresh vegetables and milk. The children haven’t had milk in weeks.”

Pastor nodded grimly. “One week, DJ. And then you’ll return with supplies and news of Abigail. At least whether she’s alive or dead.”

“And a new location,” Coleen added meekly.

Pastor nodded again. “That, as well. Goodbye, Brother DJ. May God be with you.”

DJ managed not to roll his eyes. Pastor didn’t believe in God. He only believed in himself. The blessing was Pastor’s way of donning his pastoral persona, his signal that their business was completed.

DJ inclined his head wordlessly. Waiting until he was back in his quarters, he whispered, “Goodbye, Pastor.” Because this was the beginning of the old man’s end. Once Mercy and Gideon were no more, DJ would return to claim leadership of Eden.

He only wanted the money. The others could have the rest.