Deadly Deception (SCVC Taskforce) by Misty Evans

agreed on his cover story as an FBI analyst, he didn’t fill in that blank. Might be interesting to see if Adam, or one of his followers, did their homework.
    Glancing at Ronni’s form, he noticed hers was mostly blank as well. She’d filled in her name and in the comments section, wrote, “I need to speak with Adam.”
    Short and to the point. Good strategy .
    She stood, took the form to Melly. The woman greeted her with a hug, then read the form. Ronni said something to her and Melanie’s brows crunched in what looked like confusion. A moment later, she disappeared out the door and Ronni returned to her seat.
    The others in attendance were being paired off with iChurch members. Ronni glanced at Jacob and her lips tightened. Thomas followed her line of sight and saw Jacob was watching them.
    Ronni shifted, breaking eye contact and pretending to straighten her shirt. “Might as well get this show on the road. I explained to Melanie that I’m a Wrightsville survivor and Adam will want to see me.”
    “Okay, then.” Thomas watched as the kid with the dog was escorted out of the room by the guy who’d given the welcome speech. Did that mean he was accepted or getting the boot? “Guess we wait, then.”
    They waited. And waited.
    A few of the other visitors were also escorted out the door at the front of the room. Those left slowly trickled out the back after their counseling sessions. Two hours later, the man who’d given the welcome speech returned, without the kid, and thanked those left for coming. Thomas, Ronni, and one other woman were the only ones still there.
    The coffee urn and cookie plate disappeared. Ronni stood and looked around. “Wait,” she said to the welcoming committee. “I need to talk to Adam.”
    The man paused at the front of the room, hand on the doorknob. “I’m afraid Adam isn’t here.” He smiled and nodded at both of them, motioning at his male cohort folding up the chairs in the front row. “Lance, will you please see our guests out?”
    What? Thomas started forward. “Now, look here…”
    He felt a hand on his forearm, reining him in. “Thank you, but we’ll show ourselves out,” Ronni said, iron in her voice.
    She grabbed Thomas’s hand, picked up her purse, and jerked him toward the back door.
    Outside, the night air was cool on his face. He didn’t say a word until they were in the car, back on the highway. Ronni stared straight ahead, silent. But the fact she gripped the steering wheel at ten and two and was doing ninety told him all he needed to know.
    The top was down and the wind cut through his hair as he stared at the desert flying by on both sides. “Well, that was a waste of time.”
    Over the sound of the rushing wind, Ronni’s phone rang from inside her purse. “See who it is,” she said.
    He dug past her wallet and a bunch of other stuff until he found the smartphone. Caller ID read “private number”.
    “Must be your boyfriend,” he said, holding the phone up so she could see it.
    Her lips parted in a smile. “Not my boyfriend.” Taking the phone, she thumbed the ignore button. “Adam.”
    “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
    “He wants to play games? He can leave a message.”

 
    Chapter Ten
     
    Adam didn’t leave a message.
    Ronni paced the room where she’d met with Dupé and the SCVC taskforce the previous day. Thomas had texted Cooper to meet them there, and even though it was late, the Terminator was on his way.
    Murphy strikes again. Had it been someone else calling from a private line and not Adam?
    No. She knew it was him.
    How did he get my number?
    Thomas was down the hall, locating a pop machine. The coffee at the meeting hadn’t done the trick—he needed a Mountain Dew.
    Ronni needed a replay.
    No one with a private number called her on her FBI-issued phone except her old boss back in Des Moines and Victor Dupé. Either man would have left a message. It was possible the call was random—a wrong number—but her gut said no.