“That's actually not what I want to ask you about,” I tell her honestly. “Nobody's been able to figure out where he is, so I'm letting you off the hook on that one.”
“Good,” she says. “I can't help you with what my brother is doing.”
“How about your other brother?” I ask.
“Ron?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say. I take a bite of my doughnut to give me a few seconds to come up with the right sequence of words. It doesn't come, so I just go with what tumbles out of my mouth first. “Before everything happened, Dean and I followed you away from the bank and saw you meeting up with Ron out by the cornfield.”
She closes her eyes briefly, shaking her head as if she can't believe what she just heard. “That was you?”
“Yes,” I say.
“I knew I heard somebody,” Millie says.
“What were you doing out there?” I ask.
“I was just talking to Ron,” she says.
“I know,” I say. “But why? Why were you meeting out there?”
“He's my brother, Emma. We don't live terribly close together, so sometimes we meet up in between just to catch up.”
“That didn't look as if you were just catching up. He looked angry,” I say.
“They're my brothers. The bonds of brotherhood are tight,” she says.
I nod and finish my doughnut. After a few more minutes of visiting, I leave. Dean, Xavier, and Sam meet up with me outside.
"Anything?" Dean asks.
"She said she just met with Ron out there because they don't live close to each other, so sometimes that's where they get together. When I questioned her about it, she said the bonds of brotherhood are tight."
"Why do you have that look as if what she said is significant?" Dean asks.
"Because she's their sister, not their brother. It's not brotherhood for her. And isn't that almost exactly what my father said about The Order? When I was in the hospital, and he was telling me he and the two generations before him were all members?"
"She was trying to tell you something," Xavier says.
"But we already know Sterling is in The Order and that Ron heads up FireStarter. What else could she be trying to say?" Sam asks.
"I don't know." I look at each of them. "What are you doing now?"
"Noah expects me at the precinct soon," Sam says. "I'm going over a few things with him to see if I can give him new insights."
"Xavier and I are open," Dean says.
"Good. I need you to research the temple. We still have no idea what's going on with it, and now that they've reduced the surveillance, it's getting urgent. We need to know the history of that building. The Order chose it for a reason. My father said the chapters like to choose buildings for their meeting that have historical significance and speak to the heart of the given chapter. Whatever that means. We need to find the heart of that building."
"I thought we were looking for the heart of the chapter," Dean says.
I look at Xavier.
"Let the snack choose you," he says.
"Absolutely."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It takes two hours to get to Rachel Duprey's office and another hour of cooling my heels in the waiting room, but finally, she strides out toward me. Her walk is exactly as you’d imagine from her contact page photo. Formal and precise. Trained and heavily controlled.
She flashes me a smile that fits right in with her posture and movement, extending her hand to shake mine when she is still several steps away. That's a manipulation tactic, whether she knows it or not, though I'm pretty confident she does. It shows focus, direct concentration on me rather than on anything else around her.
I play into it, walking toward her and meeting her with our hands clasped.
“Rachel Duprey,” she introduces herself. “I hear you've been waiting to speak with me.”
“Yes,” I say. “Actually, we've already spoken. Agent Emma Griffin.”
The smile disappears from Rachel's face. Her shoulders square off against me, and her jaw tightens as she lifts her chin in a show of strength and resilience. She's preparing herself for the same types of onslaughts she dealt with for years and managed to deflect from her father and her family.
“I believe I told you I had nothing more to say to you,” she says.
“No, actually, you didn't say that,” I counter.
“Then allow me to say it now. I am not discussing this with you. It's over, and I want it to remain that way. I hope you understand that. Good day, Agent Griffin.”
She turns on her heel and starts back to her office. She's not getting away that easily. I follow after her.
“But I don't understand,” I say.
At that, she stops. Her back stays to me for a moment. We're locked in a stalemate. Finally, she lets out a breath.
“Come with me,” she says.
I follow her into her office, and she shuts the door behind me.
“I made myself extremely clear when you called me,” she says. “Coming to my place of business is completely out of line.”
“Is it?” I ask. “I thought your whole thing was helping people. I need help.”
“You need help dragging my father through the mud? Dredging up something none of us wants to think about anymore? That nobody needs to have to deal with? It's over. Why do you have to bring it up again?” she asks.
“Because it's not over. There are still a lot of questions. And as I said, I'm investigating another case that might have to do with your father’s past. I need to know everything I can,” I tell her.
“This is ridiculous,” she scoffs. “There's nothing for me to tell you because there is nothing for you to know. My father did nothing wrong. Never. It was just a gold-digging woman who saw the potential for a big payday, and it didn't work out for her. He had nothing to do with her.”
“Then why did
