Coleen went on to accuse DJ of deceit when it came to Mercy. Tom watched the crowd as DJ admitted it all. This was making a difference. And then . . .

“Are you going to tell Pastor?” DJ asked.

“If I were going to tell him, I’d have done it already.”

“What are you doing, Sister Coleen?” he asked, his voice suddenly louder.

“Nothing.” Coleen’s voice was hoarse, like she couldn’t breathe. “Just filling in the blanks. You’re hurting me, DJ.”

The recording abruptly ended and the crowd was absolutely silent. Even Joshua had ceased his ranting.

“Sister Coleen was found a few hours later, dead in her bed,” Molina said.

Joshua stepped back, shaken. “No. That’s a fake. Like the moon landing.” He spun around and addressed the membership. “Don’t listen to her. She’s lying. She probably has Sister Coleen in a cell somewhere.” Then he spied Graham holding the baby and started for him, a foul look on his face. “Don’t you touch my wife’s baby.”

Graham’s eyes widened and he turned, showing Joshua his back and protecting the baby with his own body. He didn’t have to.

Tom stepped in front of Graham, never so glad to be six-six with heavy muscle. Joshua wasn’t a small man, but he had to look way up.

“You will not put your hands on him,” Tom said quietly. “Or the baby. Or her mother.”

Fear crossed the man’s eyes and he turned to the crowd. “This is how it starts. They come in and tell us what to do. How to live. How to worship. Pastor will fix this when he comes back.”

Molina cleared her throat. “Pastor is also dead. DJ killed him, too.”

A collective wail rose from the group, many of the members falling to their knees in grief.

“Why?” Joshua demanded. “Why would Brother DJ kill Pastor? That makes no sense.”

“Agent Hunter?” Molina said. “Please tell them why.”

Tom raised his voice. “Because he wanted Pastor’s money. Pastor’s bank account had fifty million dollars in it.”

Once again there was silence, broken by muted weeping. Joshua laughed harshly. “Fifty million dollars? You are insane. Look at us. We don’t have anything.”

“How much did you donate to Eden when you joined?” Tom asked Joshua.

Joshua frowned. “We sold our home and donated the profits. It was about three hundred thousand dollars.”

Tom pointed at another man about Joshua’s age. “And you, sir?”

“Four hundred thousand,” the man said, clearly troubled.

Tom pointed to various members, and after five people, the total was already over two million dollars. “He invested well and supplemented with sales of the drugs you grew and harvested.”

One of the men shook his head. “We never sold drugs.”

“Tell them to look in the cave room where the tools and schoolbooks were stored,” Graham said. “There’s a box marked Smithy Tools. It’s filled with cocaine and pot. Full disclosure,” he added, “I took a brick of the coke to try to blackmail Brother DJ into letting my sister go to the hospital. Like Pastor was able to. The coke is hidden under a rock near the computer. The package is unopened.” He pointed a finger at Joshua. “And before you can claim I smuggled it, remember that Isaac, the head of our household, thoroughly searched us. Those drugs belong to DJ.”