Once he’d driven back to the main road, he took the next side street and pulled over again. There he raided her purse, taking her cash and credit cards. The cards he’d drop in a dumpster somewhere, along with her phone. It would make an adequate motive for her death.

She didn’t have much cash—under fifty dollars. But every little bit helped.

Ephraim had money of his own—a lot of money. The problem was, it was in offshore accounts managed by Pastor, and Ephraim could only get funds through the old man. That would also change once the old man died.

He would have killed Pastor years ago if the wily old bastard hadn’t kept the bank codes for the offshore accounts safely tucked in his own mind. To Ephraim’s knowledge, nobody knew the codes except for Pastor. He alone dabbled in the accounts. In the old days, Pastor would slip away to the city, where there were bankers on his payroll. Nowadays he did it online with Eden’s one computer.

The money had continued to grow, as had their percentages of the pie because half of the original Founders were dead. Ephraim’s brother, Edward, had been murdered by that little bastard Gideon, and DJ’s father, Waylon, had had a heart attack, the two dying within days of each other, seventeen years before. Doc had died twenty years ago, but he’d been ancient when they’d set up their first camp. Now the only two left of the original Founding Elders were Pastor and Ephraim. And DJ, who’d unfairly been given Waylon’s share. Given that DJ was younger than all of them, he could control all the money once Pastor and Ephraim were gone.

And there was no way Ephraim was going to let that happen. He’d lived in the middle of fucking nowhere for thirty fucking years and some of that money had been his before coming to Eden. Edward had earned it and Ephraim was his brother’s only living heir. DJ would not touch a penny of that money. Especially given that he’d lied about having found and killed Mercy after her escape.

So Ephraim needed to get Mercy and drag her back to Eden. He’d botched tonight’s attempt, but he’d be successful the next time. He’d considered showing Pastor a video clip of Mercy from that CNN interview, but Pastor still believed that the Apollo moon landing was a Hollywood trick. DJ had shown him what was possible with Photoshop and now Pastor didn’t believe anything unless he saw it with his own eyes.

So I need Mercy. I want Gideon, but only so I can kill him. The man held no value other than to satisfy Ephraim’s need for vengeance.

Buckling up—no reason to give a cop cause to pull him over—he headed back toward the interstate, just as his phone rang. It was a basic smartphone, provided by Pastor, but Ephraim didn’t use it often. The sole person he had left on the outside was his mother and her dementia was so progressed that she didn’t know him anymore, and he only left Eden a few times every year.