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Shoving down the demon of his past, he pressed play. A portly gray-haired man, restrained by FBI-issued cuffs, wandered into the frame. Beck sat up straighter, watching the man rail and sob as law enforcement escorted him away. He’d know those beady eyes anywhere.
“Looks like slimy Uncle Peter isn’t dead after all,” he drawled.
“That guy is your uncle?” Seth pointed at the TV.
“Yep. I had no idea that cowardly piece of shit was still alive. I’m sure he was still fucking underage virgins in the name of the Lord, too. When Zach told me Peter had been ousted as Messiah after Jed turned sixteen, I assumed Esther had him killed. But he must have proven extra spineless if Mother let him keep breathing. On the bright side, there isn’t a more fitting punishment for Uncle Peter than being repeatedly ass raped in prison.”
His father would have looked a lot like Peter now—all thinning gray hair, crow’s feet, and judgmental glower—if Beck hadn’t slit the cocksucker’s throat years ago.
Next, Zach’s drawn face filled the screen. He looked both exhausted and wired tight. And no wonder. He was doing the right thing, but everyone in Messiah City would view his choice to end the sect as the ultimate betrayal.
Beneath Zach’s photo was a printed chyron proclaiming FBI Raid on Fundamentalist Sect.
“After the early-morning raid, the leaders of the religious splinter group who call themselves The Chosen have been arrested. Authorities say this group has been on their radar for years, but they had no probable cause to search Messiah City until one brave resident, Zacharias Kimball, who found himself the leader of the sect after the previous one’s death during yesterday’s deadly shoot-out in Big Bear, came forward. The rest of the followers will be taken in for questioning before being released. Volunteer groups have pledged to help those who wish to acclimate to the outside world. No word yet on—”
Beck’s cell phone chimed, interrupting the newscast. He paused the feed, grabbed the device off the coffee table, and read the message from FBI agent Jericho Waters.
Just landed at Van Nuys. Be there shortly.
Beck tapped out a reply that he’d be waiting, then sighed, rubbing the back of his stiff neck. The good news was, the cesspool of depravity he’d grown up in would soon be relegated to the dustbin of history. The bad news? Zach’s difficulties were just beginning. Beck knew that from experience. Learning how to function in this world would be a long, frustrating process. Thankfully, Zach had agreed to stay with him, at least temporarily, so he’d have help adjusting to life outside the sect. Beck was damn glad he could help his brother…but the timing sucked.
Seth still wasn’t acting like himself. Had he stayed home last night to talk about any of their problems? No, he’d clammed up, ditched their planned date night, and stayed out until just before sunrise. If River was already snooping on the cheating spouse, why hadn’t Seth come home? Did the case really require both of them? Beck had no idea because Seth hadn’t bothered to explain, much less called or answered any of Heavenly’s texts. Hell, he hadn’t even asked Heavenly how she was doing, despite her obvious exhaustion and worry. Instead, Seth had merely slid onto the sofa to watch the news unfold and carried on like they had no problems at all.
That was bullshit. He’d created a strain in their relationship that hadn’t existed before.
On top of that, Beck’s patient load had gotten more difficult virtually overnight with the addition of more cases, some incredibly complex. Piling Zach’s needs onto this powder keg of stress would be a lot to handle. Thankfully, he’d found a top-notch psychologist—if Zach needed it—who specialized in cult victims to guide his brother through the upheaval and grief while he adjusted to his new life, but Zach would need family, reassurance, and time—time Beck worried he needed to shore up his relationship with Heavenly and Seth.
Worry wrung him as tight as a fucking tourniquet.
“Zach is back in LA?” Heavenly asked expectantly.
“Yeah.” He turned off the TV. He’d seen enough of this media circus. Besides, he’d hear the unvarnished truth from the ringmaster himself. “He should be here soon.”
Seth fidgeted in his seat like he was itchy, then checked his phone.
Beck scowled. What was up his ass? If Cooper thought he was slipping out again without them exchanging words, he was sorely mistaken.
Heavenly sent Beck a reassuring smile. “It’s good Zach will be coming here. He looked…”
“Haunted,” Seth finished, his voice edged with something hard.
“Yes. I’m not surprised, after dealing with all that.” Heavenly gestured to the darkened screen. “I’ll bet he didn’t sleep all night. I doubt he’s had a decent home-cooked meal in ages.”
Beck nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“I don’t pretend to understand everything he’s going through, but I can at least feed him.” Heavenly stood and headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll have a hot breakfast ready shortly after he arrives.”
As the clatter of pots and pans floated from the kitchen, Beck glared at Seth, his stare drilling into the side of the big PI’s head.
Seth turned his way. “What?”
Though Heavenly had turned on some soft music, Beck still lowered his voice. “So it took all night to ‘check’ on the case?”
“Cases often take me out that long. What are you bitching about?”
“But you usually tell us up front how long you’ll be gone, and if things change, you call. Last night, Heavenly thought you were coming back. And you ignored her texts. She was really fucking upset and worried.”
That took Seth down a notch. “Sorry. Hurting her is the last thing I ever want to do.”
