And then he’d seen the moment it had gone wrong. Her relief, her distraction.

DJ had made his move and now held her at gunpoint.

If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Tom might have laughed at the look of frustrated annoyance on her face. At least she wasn’t afraid.

His Liza had a spine of steel.

“Back off,” DJ warned. “I will kill her. I have nothing to lose.”

“What do you want?” Tom asked, grateful to Croft for making him practice the scenarios multiple times as they’d driven like a bat out of hell. She’d taken over the driving midway through so that he could pull out his laptop and check on the status at Sunnyside. Raeburn’s team had everything under control there, and that—and seeing that Kowalski was still on the move, so DJ must have been, too—had helped him remain calm. But then Kowalski’s vehicle had stopped and so had his heart. It hadn’t beaten normally until he’d seen that Liza was still alive.

He could hear Croft getting out of the SUV. She’d been calling their location in to Raeburn, who was coordinating from the field office in Sacramento. Once they’d had Kowalski’s signal to follow, Raeburn had redirected the SWAT team to veer off I-5 and head east.

He’d also put eyes in the air. There was a chopper not too far away.

All of this gave Tom a feeling of control that was just enough—barely enough—to allow him to think past the fear of seeing a gun at Liza’s head.

“I want you to back off,” DJ snarled. “Tell your partner to stop. Not another step forward. There are three bodies on the ground right now. None of them listened. Follow their lead and it’ll be four.”

Liza’s gaze was locked on Tom’s face and the trust in her eyes bolstered his spirit and ripped it apart, all at once.

“I’ve got something you want,” Tom said.

DJ’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Eden’s bank account.”

DJ went rigid. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. How do you think we knew about Sunnyside? I saw the transfers from your account to theirs. I’ve had access to Eden’s bank accounts for almost a month. We were just waiting for you to show up.”

“You’re lying,” DJ said again, but this time he sounded less certain.

“First transfer on Thursday morning, one hundred thousand dollars. Second transfer, two hundred fifty thousand. We have Pastor’s financial advisor in custody, so he can’t take any more.”

“What do you mean, any more?”

“He’s been skimming for years. Just like your father skimmed when he had your job.”

“How do you know about my father?” DJ’s eyes gleamed, his greed apparent.

“Pastor’s wife told us. Your father gave her a million bucks. Did you know that?”

DJ’s face contorted into a scowl. “Of course he did,” he muttered. “Bastard.”

“Which is why you killed him.”

“I killed him because he helped Gideon.”

“I can see how that’d make you upset,” Tom said mildly. “So. What do you want?”