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She thought once more about how badly she wanted to findSamson, to either bring him in or even kill him. It was her driving force rightnow. Hell, it had been one of the only things that kept her going while inprison. She’d opened up to a few women about it, inmates who seemed to have alevel head on their shoulders.
Kimmy Byers had told her that Samson, the Seven SignsKiller, had become her little god. The thing she looked to in order to feelalive. Kimmy had said lots of people had little gods that were bad gods…peoplewanting to get out only to go back to an old addiction, or to a toxic spouse.
But Kimmy had been a little wacky. She’d been…
Morgan’s sudden realization was so shocking and suddenthat she nearly ran through the red light at the intersection near the northernend of Dutton Road. She hit the brakes, thinking of Kimmy Byers, and wonderingif the answer had been staring her right in the face all along.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Morgan thought of Kimmy Byers as she hurried back to thehospital. Kimmy had been quiet and reserved during her first few months. She’dcome in roughly four years into Morgan’s sentence and eventually, the two hadgrown to be on speaking terms. They’d never really been friends (those wereincredibly hard to make in prison, no matter what Hollywood movies claimed) butthey’d often shared conversations in the cafeteria, in the gym, or duringrecreation time.
Kimmy had been arrested for her involvement in a cult.She wasn’t sure, but she thought the name of the cult was the Rising Sun ofZion. A lot of what they were involved in was, at its core, based on Christianbeliefs. But they took it to the extreme. For instance, Kimmy had been arrestedat a rally near an abortion clinic where she’d dumped cow blood on five peopleand pelted rocks and bricks at police officers who tried to break up theprotest. Two of the bricks she threw struck people. She’d knocked one officerunconscious and shattered the elbow of a rival protestor.
While Morgan didn’t agree with any of Kimmy’s tactics orbeliefs, she’d been a fascinating woman to speak to. She’d often make deepdives on what it was like to be in a cult, a topic that Morgan had always foundfascinating.
Kimmy always had interesting stories about the Rising Sunof Zion, as well as other cults she’d come into contact with during what shereferred to as “her transcendent years.” In prison, she’d made a habit ofattending Bible studies put on by local churches and completely berating theinstructors, bemoaning that Christianity was nothing more than a cult in and ofitself.
This wasn’t exactly something Morgan believed, but she’dalways respected Kimmy for her boldness in the face of her…well, heruniqueapproach to things.
Kimmy had described how the cult’s rituals were centeredaround the worship of a supposed messiah who would lead them to a promisedland. They saw themselves as the chosen people, and anyone who opposed them wasan enemy of the Lord.
Morgan had never understood how someone could become sodeluded, so entrenched in their beliefs that they’d be willing to hurt othersfor it. It was a mystery to her, one that she’d often pondered during her long nightsin prison.
Yet somehow, for some reason, she’d never stopped toconsider that Samson may be involved in a cult. For all intents and purposes,it seemed like he worked alone. But who was to say he wasn’t being sent out aspart of a group? And if that was indeed the case, might there be more likeSamson also at work elsewhere in the country?
Or, and this was a thought that chilled her to the core,what if the man she was after now wasn’t Samson at all? After all, ten years wasa hell of a long time to wait. What if this was some other cult member orextremist who had been inspired by Samson’s work and was now just finishing itup?
It was an intriguing idea, even if it did feelfarfetched. But she wasn’t about to ignore any possible answers.
With these new ideas locked in, she regretted theoutburst that had destroyed her phone. She could have called Mueller and told himher theory, to convince him to allow her to stay on the case. She felt foolishover the outburst as she parked her car and raced back inside the hospital.
As she took the elevator up to Derik’s floor, she did herbest to remember some of the names of the other cults Kimmy had mentioned—cultsthat operated silently and almost unseen in the city and surrounding counties.A few raced through her mind but she wasn’t even sure if they were accurate ornot.
When she got to Derik’s room, she was relieved to see himsitting on the edge of the cushioned table he’d been lying on earlier. A nursewas with him, and he was signing a paper. His discharge papers, Morgan assumed.
“Ma’am,” the nurse said, “you can’t be in here.”
“It’s okay,” Derik said with a smile. “She’s my ride.” Hehanded the nurse the clipboard with the form on it and said, “We good here?”
“Yes, Agent Greene. You’re good to go. Don’t forget tofill that prescription if you need it. And concussion protocol says you shouldstay off your feet for a few days.”
“I know. Thanks.”
“Nurse,” Morgan said, “do you think we could have theroom for a bit? Maybe five minutes?”
She looked at them skeptically but then shrugged. “Fiveminutes. But then I’ll have to kick you out.”
“Thanks.”
The nurse left, closing the door behind them. Deriklooked at Morgan with curiosity, tilting his head. “What? What’s happened?”
“Oh, a lot has happened in the last hour and a half,” shesaid. She then took a deep breath and did her best to summarize it all.
She started with calling Mueller and then the call he’dgotten to inform him of the eleventh victim. She walked him through her visitto Leonard Seabry’s residence, and wrapped it up with the destruction of hercell phone. The last thing she told him was about the small epiphany she’d hadconcerning Kimmy Byers and how she wondered if Samson might be part of a cult.
“Jesus, he worked quick on that last one, huh?”
“We scared him,” Morgan said. “I don’t think he had achoice.”
