Page 110 of See How They Hide

Dean said, “Riley, please explain.”

“I knew Abby would never be able to live on her own. She was dependent on the community. I never would have rescued her.”

“Do you think she set this up?”

Riley shook her head. “I don’t know how Thalia rescued people after I left. She could get in and out of the valley—it’s how we communicated. She’d leave a red poppy with a day and time, and I would meet her. She was a ghost. So I think she must have watched, picked Abby for some reason, and Abby went with her. Then Abby became lonely and scared and went back to Havenwood. Begged them to forgive her. As penance, they made her reveal everything she knew about Thalia’s operation. They used Abby and the message board to find Jesse, and Thalia walked into the trap.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t break down.

“It’s logical,” Dean said. “Cult members, even when they leave, often have feelings of deep sorrow, low self-esteem, lack of drive, fear of the unknown. Returning to a place they know, even if it’s dangerous or imperfect, is preferable to isolation and loneliness.”

“Any word about the satellite program?” Kara asked. She knew Ryder would tell them as soon as he knew, but she couldn’t help but ask.

“We’re using every available computer. As soon as I know, you all will know.”

“Thank you,” she said.

Tony signed off, and Kara texted Ryder.

I’ll find him. I promise.

Ryder had been with Matt and the MRT from the beginning. The first hire. Ryder was the backbone of the team. He anticipated the needs of everyone. He set up their logistical operations. He was the go-to person for everything research related. But Kara had known, from the beginning, that Ryder’s topmost loyalty was to Matt and Matt alone. Of course he was loyal to the FBI and their team, but Ryder had a deep respect and admiration for his boss. This had to be hurting him as much as her. Especially since he was there, not here.

Michael shut the laptop and rubbed his eyes. Dean said, “The sheriff is transporting Thalia’s body to Colorado Springs, where Jim will assist in the autopsy. They have better facilities than this county. If there is any evidence on the body, they’ll know tonight.”

Dean left the room and Kara said to Michael, “Are you really okay?”

Michael stared at her, his eyes rimmed red. “Dammit, Kara, I should have been able to stop this.”

“If you tried, they would have killed you. But they hit you from behind then fired multiple bullets to pin you down.”

“I don’t care!”

“I do. Matt wouldn’t want you dead trying to save him. Neither do I.” She hugged him tight; he held on as if he were drowning. “We’ll find him, Michael. This is in no way your fault.”

41

Unknown Location, Colorado

Matt was in and out of consciousness, but based on how his body felt, the twilight, and the sense of elevation, he figured they’d been on the road for four hours. He couldn’t see his watch because his hands were bound behind him.

He did an assessment of his injuries and didn’t think anything was broken. He definitely had a concussion—his head pounded and when he moved he became dizzy. He might have a cracked rib, and felt bruises everywhere.

He was cold, but it could be worse.

Thirty minutes after he was taken, the van pulled over. He heard another vehicle drive up behind them and stop. Voices were muffled, but there were at least four people. They took him from the van and put him in the back of a truck with a camper shell. That’s when they blindfolded and shackled him. But they also provided him with a sleeping bag and blankets. It took him a while as they bounced over rough terrain, but he managed to lie on a blanket to keep the metal floor from making him too cold, and the sleeping bag was thick enough to provide some heat, especially since he wasn’t dressed for the cold. He had on slacks and a button-down shirt with his lined FBI jacket.

Matt had to maintain his strength as best he could. He stretched as much as possible even though his wrists and ankles were chained. He listened for any identifying sounds, but heard little over the roar of the motor.

A change in terrain and speed told him they were approaching their destination. The truck kicked into four-wheel drive and bucked as it rolled over uneven, snow-topped terrain. He was tossed from side to side and at one point slid all the way to the front of the truck bed as they went down a steep incline.

Just when he thought he was going to puke, the ride smoothed out and he forced himself to breathe steadily.

Then they stopped.

The engine shut off.

He smelled wood smoke and fresh snow and something absolutely delicious cooking that made him hungry, even through his nausea. Voices, low and indistinct, murmured as if a crowd had formed. He tried to make out individual words, but it was a low din and his ears were still ringing from the long drive.

A moment later, the back of the camper shell opened. Two pairs of hands pulled him out and he fell to the ground. The shackles were removed from his ankles and he was pulled to stand. His knees buckled, but two people held him upright.

---