“She’s allergic to trees,” Mercy said weakly. “It was her way of telling us that she’s outside.”

“He might still have that camper,” Rafe said. “If so, he’s mobile, which sucks. But if he’s actually using Farrah’s phone—versus spoofing her number—we can track it.”

“How long will that take, Raphael?” Irina asked, hope in her voice for the first time.

Mercy shook her had. “No cops for now, please? He means what he says and I don’t trust that Molina won’t ride in with a platoon of black SUVs. Let me try something else first.”

Rafe didn’t want to upset her, but he was bringing in the police. At least those in SacPD who he trusted.

“Please,” she begged, and Rafe sighed.

“What are you going to try?” he asked, without making any promises.

“Finding Farrah’s phone.”

Rafe felt a spurt of hope. “You have a Find My Friends app or something?”

She shook her head and his hope fizzled. “I don’t. The very thought of anyone tracking me makes my skin itch. Farrah and I just text each other. Was Gideon able to start a trace when I was talking to Ephraim?”

“Not sure. He hasn’t gotten back to me yet. He’s working on it now. I’m going to call my lieutenant. He can add our tech resources.”

“Gideon has brought in the FBI?” Irina asked, fear in her voice. “I trust Gideon, but I don’t know who he’s working with, nor do I know your lieutenant. Burton might kill them, Raphael. Can’t we just use Find My Phone?”

“Farrah has an Android phone, plus you need to enable those location apps, Irina. It’s not something you can use without turning it on in your settings first. Just give me two minutes. I need to call Mama Romero back. She might be able to see Farrah’s phone.” Mercy dialed Mrs. Romero, blurting out, “She’s alive,” as soon as Farrah’s mother answered. “I talked to her.”

“She’s alive?” Mrs. Romero asked through her tears. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I heard her voice. But she’s being held hostage. And you’re on speaker,” Mercy added. “I’m with Rafe and his parents. Their son Damien is with Farrah and André. Farrah’s the smartest woman I know and André and Damien are good cops. They’ll figure out how to hold on until I can get to them.”

“We,” Rafe muttered.

Mrs. Romero whispered a thankful prayer. “But . . . this is the man who killed our Quill, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Mercy said. “And we don’t know what he’s going to ask me to do, but he has her phone. He called me from it.”

“Us to do,” Rafe said. “Us. Not you. Dammit, Mercy.”

Mercy huffed impatiently. “Fine. Us, not me. Now let me talk. Mama, do you still have that tracking app on your phone? The one you made us download when we went on that cruise last year?”

Rafe’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Mercy nodded. “There were over twenty of us who went and we had a mix of iPhones, Androids, and even a few Google phones. Mama Romero didn’t want to lose anyone, so she found an app that would work with everyone’s phone.”