“You’d take a different route?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Carry on.”

They’d driven in silence for another twenty minutes when he got a call on his burner. It was the same number Liza had called him from after visiting Sergio’s tattoo studio. “Yeah?”

“It’s Gideon. Am I on speaker?”

“No.”

“Where are you?”

He didn’t even consider lying. He’d probably tanked his career, so what the hell? “Going north on 70.”

“Smart. Goes through Yuba City. He’ll know that route.”

“Exactly.”

“We’re going up I-5.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Mercy and me. And Daisy, of course. We’re following the SWAT team. I tried to keep Mercy at home, but she insisted, so Daisy’s locked and loaded. Mercy and Daisy are wearing all the tactical gear I could get my hands on.”

Tom almost smiled. “Who gave you the tip?”

“Molina. I think we’ve corrupted her.”

Tom had to blink hard. His eyes were burning. “I knew I liked her.”

“This is our fight, Tom. Mine and Mercy’s. If you find him, if you find Eden, we need to be there. The people are unlikely to believe you because you’re the government. They’ll believe us because we’re not dead.”

“How’s Rafe?”

“Unhappy. Feds dragged him in for being where he shouldn’t have been. He’ll be okay, though.”

“Good. Full disclosure, I don’t know exactly where I’m going. Just north, toward Lassen.”

“I figured,” Gideon said. “We’re hoping we picked the same route that DJ did, right?”

“Exactly. Contact me if you see anything.” He ended the call and glanced at Croft.

She was shaking her head again. “Just tell the review board that you took that call when you stopped for gas and I was in the bathroom.”

“Will do.”

Tom drove for another twenty minutes before seeing a sign for Oroville. “Door A or B?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Tom.”

“Can you check on the status of the warrant for Daniel Park’s phone records?”

“Sure.” She made the call to Raeburn’s office while Tom drummed his fingers on the wheel. “Not yet,” she said when she’d hung up. “Judge is evaluating.”

Tom knew they had to follow due process, but he wished he’d hacked into the guy’s phone himself. He was debating having Croft drive so that he could do exactly that when her cell rang. She listened for a moment, then breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the caller.

“The agent on duty at the Sokolovs’ intercepted a package.”

“Bomb?” Tom asked, praying that the family and their agents were all right.

“Big-ass bomb,” she confirmed. “Bomb squad took care of it.”

He was still shuddering out a relieved breath when his cell buzzed.

“We’re fucking Grand Central Station here,” Croft groused as she glanced at his phone’s screen. “It’s a 33 international calling code. Is that where I hope it is?”

“France,” he murmured. “I think Angelina Ward taped my business card together.” He answered, putting it on speaker. “This is Special Agent Hunter.”

“This is Angelina Ward.”