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“I just texted you Bella’s private number,” Allyson said brusquely. “Use a burner when you call her. I need to go.”
The call ended abruptly. Noni sighed. Using a burner wasn’t an issue. She had one she used for all her sources.
The issue was that Allyson had known something two weeks ago when she’d called the first time about Corey. She’d only looked to warn Bella when her husband and child had become threatened as well. Had Allyson been willing to let Bella die and only now balked at the thought of her child?
How did Allyson know? Had Corey approached her? Threatened her? With what?
Energized, she headed back inside the newsroom. She had work to do.
13
Lake Cataouatche, Louisiana
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 26, 9:00 A.M.
COREY, WAKE UP. Wake up, now!”
Corey swatted at Ed’s hand. “What the fuck? I just went to sleep.” Destroying the old camp had taken nearly all night and he and Bobby had been exhausted.
Exhausted and super pissed off. Corey had sunk three years and a lot of cash into making his camp the way he wanted it. And he’d finally gotten rid of Aaron and Dewey, too. Now everything he’d built was gone.
“The cops found the camp,” Ed hissed. “They tripped the cameras I had along the boundary.”
Corey sat up, suddenly very awake. Fucking Jace. “Which cops?”
“André Holmes and two detectives. There might be more people there, but I can’t see them. You blew up my other cameras,” he added accusingly.
Corey rubbed his palms down his face. Jace had led the cops right to their door, just as he’d feared. I am so going to kill him.
“I need coffee.” He got out of the bed and nudged Bobby where he slept in the next cot. “Get your ass up, B. We got stuff to do.”
“I heard,” Bobby groaned. “You two are noisier than a herd of goddamn buffalo.”
Corey pulled on pants and dug in his duffel until he found a shirt that didn’t smell too bad. “Where’s Dianne?”
“Asleep,” Ed said.
Corey glanced over at him. “On her own?”
Ed made a so-so gesture with his hand. “Kind of.”
“We’re gonna kill her,” Corey grumbled, “mixing sleeping pills with her booze.”
“If we do, it’s only speeding up what she’s doing to herself,” Ed shot back. “Come on. We need to figure out how bad this is.”
“Oh, I think it’s pretty bad,” Corey said mildly even though he felt like a volcano ready to blow. “Are we ‘persons of interest’ yet?”
“Not that I’m hearing on the police radio. I made breakfast. It’s not much. We’re going to need to make a run for supplies soon.”
That wasn’t as easy as it sounded. This camp was on a tributary off Lake Cataouatche, which connected to Lake Salvador by a narrow strait. Salvador was accessible by road. Cataouatche, only by boat. This area was isolated, with no amenities anywhere close by. Aaron had inherited it from the previous leader of Sixth Day and promptly declared it a dump. Which was fair.
But Corey had traded building Dewey’s workshop for this piece of land and he came here alone when he needed quiet time. Unlike Bobby, Corey really liked it here.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat in a folding chair at a card table. The chair and table, the cots, one actual bed with a creaky mattress, and a ratty futon were the only pieces of furniture. He thought of his cushy leather sofas in the comm room and once again had to tamp down his rage. Fucking Jace. “If they found the old camp, we have to assume they saw our boat launch. The ground was soft, so there are tire tracks all over the place.”
“André Holmes isn’t stupid,” Bobby said, pouring coffee for himself. “He’ll follow the tracks to where we hid our rides.”
Corey shook his head. “None of those vehicles can be traced to us. We removed the VINs, including the hidden ones. What I meant was that they’ll take our vehicles and we’ll need to steal another one once we’re ready to leave here.”
