Page 83 of Lethal Danger

“What?”

“The friend who left the cult but stayed in touch with Sam.”

“My son would never have done that.” Her eyebrows dipped in a disapproving glare as her voice grew stronger. “It is completely forbidden. We don’t have contact with those who have turned their backs on our leader and rejected our love.”

Her words sliced through Hawthorne’s chest with the hurtful power of his mother’s voice, the echo of the memory that suddenly seemed as real as the woman standing in front of him.

But it didn’t mean anything. They were all taught the same thing. The same lies. The same false idea of what love was.

A pounding at the door yanked Hawthorne from the memory, from the pain.

Before Hawthorne could even think of hiding, Mrs. Ackerman took a quick step to the door and yanked it open.

Two men stood on the threshold, clothed in white.

Hoods up. Black pins depicting an eclipse on their broad chests.

Helpers.

Code for Patch’s enforcers.

Twenty-Four

What was taking Hawthorne so long? Jazz had been hanging out in the gift shop for twenty-three minutes. Well, she’d gone to the restroom once during that time so people would be less likely to notice.

Hopefully, it seemed natural for her to still be there, since she’d spent the first part of the time talking to Lavinia. She’d feigned about ten questions to show passionate curiosity and then told the tour guide she thought she wanted to join Best Life.

Lavinia had responded with so much excitement Jazz almost wished she really wanted to join. Like Hawthorne had predicted, the tour guide promptly signed Jazz up for an appointment with Desmond Patch himself tomorrow morning.

After Lavinia had left, Jazz kept an eye on the employees working in the gift shop. Two females worked the counter for the first ten minutes. Then, hanging around for so long paid off.

A guy about five-ten who looked like he could be nineteen relieved the teen girl who’d been talking to customers and restocking shelves. He fit the description of Randall perfectly.

Jazz pretended to browse the Best Life T-shirts as she waited for the guy to get comfortable. Ambushing him instantly probably wouldn’t yield the best results.

She pulled a T-shirt from the rack and read the words printed across the front: Peace, Love, Destiny. Live your Best Life now.

Funny that none of the members could wear any of the Best Life merch because of their dress code. But that didn’t stop them from selling merch anyway.

Jazz smirked as she hung the shirt back on the rack and turned toward Randall.

He was taking mugs out of a box and setting them on a shelf. Should be something he could do while chatting.

Jazz worked her way slowly toward him, running her gaze over merchandise as she went to look like she was shopping. She slowed by Randall. “Nice mugs.”

He didn’t look at her or so much as grunt.

Great. “Got any with Desmond’s handsome face?”

He turned his head toward her, and his eyes widened slightly. Then a smile cracked his lips.

Perfect. A player. Almost flattering, really, considering she was probably eleven years older than the kid. But she was always told she looked younger than her thirty years. Maybe he thought she was only in her early twenties.

“Yeah. We have some of those.” He kept the goofy expression as he looked her up and down.

She gave him a sweet smile back. “Glad to hear it. You look like a smart man. Maybe you can help me.”

“Sure.” Randall’s chest puffed out a bit as he grinned at her and stepped closer.

---