He filed the thought away for later. He could decorate his new quarters any way he wanted once he had Pastor’s passwords for the offshore accounts.

He’d already observed that the man didn’t have a wallet in his pocket, but a quick look around the kitchen revealed a wallet and a set of keys. He was happy to find that the wallet contained about five hundred dollars in twenties and several credit cards. He left the cards alone and pulled out the man’s driver’s license.

“Sean MacGuire,” he murmured. The photo matched the old man’s face, still suspiciously calm. “What’s with you?” he asked. “Why aren’t you afraid?”

MacGuire merely watched him with rheumy eyes.

“You are a freaky bastard,” Ephraim muttered, then, Regina’s golden silenced gun in hand, went room to room checking for other occupants. After a thorough search through closets and under beds, he was satisfied that he and Sean MacGuire were alone.

The old man’s bedroom held a few clues. There was a framed photo on the nightstand of MacGuire with an older woman, both smiling broadly, the Eiffel Tower in the background. Another showed them smiling in front of the Taj Mahal, and yet another had them wearing parkas and standing next to a signpost that read Antarctica. The couple appeared to be intrepid travelers.

Or they had been. The man’s bed was unmade, but only half was used. The other half looked as if it hadn’t been touched. There were no women’s things on the dresser and only a few female outfits in the closet. They were the ones in the photos, Ephraim noticed.

He got an odd lump in his throat as he realized that the old woman had probably passed away, leaving the man alone.

Hopefully alone. It would suck if someone else lived here or visited.

But still. It made him not want to kill the guy. Maybe I won’t. It would depend on the man’s attitude and behavior. After all, once he grabbed Mercy, he was headed back to Eden. Nobody could find him there, so it wouldn’t hurt to let the old man live.

But if MacGuire tried something, Ephraim would kill him without a second thought.

He chose the room with the best view of the Sokolovs’ front door and pulled a chair in front of the window. For now, the driveway was filled with the same vehicles that had been there when he’d arrived, in the same places, which was a relief. The black FBI SUV was gone, but unless the tall Fed had taken Mercy and Gideon with him, Ephraim was still in luck.

He went back to the kitchen to find the man still sitting, the expression on his face unchanged. “Your old lady’s dead?” he asked.

The old man flinched. So it’s probably new.

“Sorry to hear that. Look, Sean, I don’t want to have to kill you, but I will. Just leave me be and I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.” He opened the commercial-sized refrigerator. “I’m starving. You want me to make you something, too? Nod once for yes.”