“Then I’ll put someone outside to stand watch,” Molina said. “Until we find Ephraim, none of you go anywhere without telling me or whoever is on watch, okay?”

Gideon rubbed at his temples. “Okay.”

“I’ve assigned Agent Hunter to be your escort tonight. He’ll drive you back to Sacramento.” Molina rose and patted Gideon on the shoulder. “We’ll find him, Gideon.”

He smiled, but it was forced. “I know.”

Mercy wasn’t so sure. Ephraim knew how to hide. He’d been doing so for thirty years. “Agent Molina, will I be able to get the jewelry box back at some point?”

“Yes, Mercy. I’ll make sure of it.”

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

MONDAY, APRIL 17, 8:30 P.M.

“Jeffrey Bunker, if you don’t stop that pacing, I’m going to glue your butt to a chair.”

Jeff turned to where his mother was cross-stitching while watching her favorite TV show. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m just . . . wired.”

She spared him a glance over her glasses. “Sit down, honey, and we can talk about it. Either that, or get on my treadmill and run off some of that energy, because you are driving me crazy.”

He flopped onto the sofa beside her. “I wish I knew what to do.”

“About what?” she asked.

He blinked at her. “About what? About ruining Mercy Callahan’s life, that’s what.” It had been the only thing he could think about all day long.

“I suspect you didn’t so much ruin her life as make it more complicated,” she said quietly. “That man who’s after her is ruining her life, if anyone is. Your article certainly didn’t help her state of mind, but I’d say you’re lower in the pecking order of villains.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes burning. He’d cried so much already. Like a kid. Like a stupid kid. I am a stupid kid. “I don’t want to be a villain,” he whispered. “I want to do right.”

She bit off a thread and lifted her work to the light, examining it. “Then do right.”

“How?”

“Jeff, you’re a smart young man. Brilliant, even. A whole lot smarter than I ever was, for sure. But brains aren’t everything. They aren’t even half of what makes a person good.”

He blinked, then swiped at his wet face impatiently. “What makes a person good?”

“Helping other people. Integrity. Kindness.” She turned to face him. “Why did you want to write that article to begin with, son?”

“I wanted to explore the victims. Not the dead women. Lots of people are talking about them. I wanted to know how someone . . . I don’t know. Recovered? Can a person recover from that kind of experience?”

“Good question. Why did you focus on Mercy Callahan?”

“Because of the three, she was the quietest. Almost like a ghost. Almost like she hadn’t been abducted at all. The two other women have talked to the media. Heck, Daisy Dawson is the media. She’s got a radio show and everything.”