“Unless he’d killed another family to take your place,” Tom said quietly.

Margo whimpered. “He wouldn’t have.”

Tom’s tone remained mild. “At the very least Waylon was selling drugs grown in Eden.”

“Growing a little pot is not the same as murder, Special Agent Hunter,” Margo declared.

Liza frowned, Margo’s words about standing warrants triggering a thought. “All of the Founders got new names. Ben was Herbert when he was the minister of the L.A. church, but he became Pastor in Eden. Edward McPhearson had been Aubrey Franklin, and Ephraim Burton was Harry Franklin. But Waylon kept his given name. Why?”

Tom turned to stare at her, pride in his eyes. “I didn’t think of that.”

Neither had Margo, from the look on her face. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

“Pastor made him the one to do supply runs,” Liza went on. “Waylon sold the drugs. And he had the most recognizable face. He was covered in tattoos, right? Even on his face?”

“Right.” She closed her eyes. “You think that Ben wanted him to get caught?”

Liza thought it was entirely possible. “Do you?”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it? Ben knew I loved Waylon first. He hated that.” Margo reached for a tissue, drying her eyes. “Waylon came to see us every weekend in that house in Benicia. Until one weekend he didn’t show up, and that was it. I waited and waited, but he never came back. It devastated my children, Will especially. He loved Waylon.”

“Did he know that Waylon was his father?” Liza asked.

She shook her head. “He’d always called him ‘uncle.’ But when Waylon never came back, Will felt abandoned. He’d always been an angry child, but he . . . Well, he took his own life.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Liza murmured.

Margo’s smile was small and sad. “Thank you. Eventually, I met Hugh and he offered me a better life. This is going to kill him. I assume that Waylon is dead?”

“He died seventeen years ago,” Tom told her, then abruptly changed gears. “What made you offer Craig Hickman a million dollars?”

Margo jolted. “What?”

“A million dollars is a lot of money,” Tom said. “Why did you offer it to him?”

She was quiet for a moment, struggling to regain her composure. “Waylon put it in an account for me when he helped me escape. I never spent it. I was afraid that Ben would know. When Tracy’s first child was born, I offered her the money, for the baby. She was . . . appalled.”

Margo grew pensive. “I didn’t know that she understood what would have happened to her if she’d turned twelve in Eden, but of course she did. She knew I was scared and hurting, so she never said anything. When I offered her money, though . . . She said it was blood money. That I should give it to someone else, and suggested Hickman. When she’d started college, she’d looked up the whole sordid story of Ben’s embezzlement. She told me to offer Hickman the money. I couldn’t find him, so Tracy contacted that reporter. Erica Mann. She got me in touch with Mr. Hickman. He said he didn’t want my money, that I should donate it. So I did.”