“But why Magdalena?” Croft asked. “Wasn’t Mary Magdalene a fallen woman?”

“So is Hayley.” The caustic reply came from Rafe Sokolov, who was sitting next to Amos. Rafe had given Amos and Abigail an apartment in the house he owned in exchange for the help Amos was giving him on the renovations for his new place.

Tom liked Rafe, having felt an instant kinship with the man who’d also lost someone important to him to violence. That kind of loss changed a person. Made him open to . . . alternate means of ensuring justice was done, something Tom understood too well. It was one of the reasons he’d first gotten into hacking. Information was power.

Croft’s brows rose. “Explain?”

“Hayley’s pregnant out of wedlock,” Rafe said. “They gave her the name of a prostitute to make sure everyone reminded her every time they said hello.”

“My first wife—Mercy’s mother,” Amos specified, “was named Selena, but I knew her as Rhoda. She told me much later that she’d been given that name on her first day in Eden because she hadn’t wanted to stay once she got there and found out the rules, especially those requiring women to be married. Rhoda was a servant in the early church. My Rhoda said that Eden’s elders wanted her to know her place.”

“I see,” Croft murmured.

Amos sighed. “There are quite a few people in Eden who are as desperate to escape as Hayley is. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You just did,” Croft said with a smile. “For now, you can help the most by staying safe.”

“And not interfering in your investigation,” Rafe added dryly.

Croft shot him a quick grin. “That too.”

One of the things Tom liked about working with Croft was that she genuinely cared about people. But the clock was ticking and he wanted to get to the building across the street from Abigail’s eye doctor.

He cleared his throat. “Agent Croft, something’s come up. If you’ve got everything you need, we should be going.”

Rafe’s brow immediately furrowed as he studied Tom’s face. He was a SacPD homicide detective on disability leave, and his instincts were still perfectly sharp. “Why? What’s wrong? Is it Mercy?”

Croft didn’t question Tom’s cue to leave. She rose from the table and gave both men her card. “Call me if you think of anything else. Agent Hunter? I’m ready when you are.”

Rafe lurched to his feet, his face now pale. “Tom?”

Tom hesitated, then shot Croft a look of apology. “She’s okay, Rafe,” he assured him. “She and Abigail are with Liza and Agent Rodriguez, on their way back to your parents’ house.”

“But something happened,” Amos said, his voice growing raspier. “Tell us.”

“I don’t know the details,” Tom said, which was mostly true. “When I do, I’ll let you know. For now, know that they’re all right. You can call Mercy if you need to make sure.”

Rafe was already dialing her number, Amos watching his every move.