Page 3 of Letting Go

"Why? People think painting their basement window with green slime to make them feel better might be a little snake oily? That it doesn’t work."

Finn's face darkens. "He's made some public enemies. I emailed you his file."

"I bet he's made enemies."

Finn waves me over to the staircase and juts his jaw upstairs. "There's something else."

I follow him up to his home office. It looks just like what it is: a converted master bedroom in a two hundred-year-old captain's house that overlooks the water, with five computers set up along the wall, each flickering. On the righthand side is a double-screen workstation and a ceiling drop screen and, to the left, a beautiful view of Rock Island and four other uninhabited islands just offshore.

As we settle in the office, he slips on a T-shirt and runs a hand through his curling hair.

Turning to the computer monitor, he boots up, leans over the desk, and scrolls on the touch screen with an index finger.

He stops on the picture of a ruggedly handsome, bleach-blond guy with bright blue eyes sporting a two-day stubble. His hair, cropped short and twisted into cowlicks, looked strategically gel-messy.

"Who's this guy?" I'm not one to hold back. "He looks like a tool."

Finn closes the door.

"He's the leader of a religious cult in West Virginia. The Everlast."

West Virginia. Something stirs in my memory.

"He calls himself 'The Seer,' and his groupies consider him to be the voice of God—nobody knows who he really is."

I stare at him. "So it’s a real cult."

Nodding, he goes on, "His followers are called 'The Seekers.'" He pauses. "Raymond Clifton confirms the threat came from their compound."

"How does he know for sure?"

"He had the head of his IT run diagnostics and follow IP addresses. It checks out." Finn shakes his head.

"Do they fit the proverbial model? No kids, no sex, but this guy gets to live with a houseful of women and girls?"

Finn nods. "That's about right."

"What's their connection?"

"Unclear. The tirade of emails from the compound claim Raymond Clifton is a fake." Finn rubs his face and sighs. "I have my suspicions, but the cult leader or someone in his upper hierarchy thinks Raymond Clifton is a false prophet."

"All righty." I turn to go and have a second thought. "Raymond Clifton is in the big league. He doesn’t have his own detail?"

Finn's forehead furrows and he shakes his head. "Yeah. That part doesn’t make sense. When I asked him about his own personal security, he shrugged off the question."

I sigh. "When is Jackson picking him up?"

"He'll be in Portland tomorrow morning. You and Jackson will escort him from the airport to the hotel. Jackson'll text you the details."

"Got it."

"And one more thing." Reaching behind him he lowers the window sash and then his voice. "Getting back to Chloe. Watch it, okay? She's Claire's sister and things are tense enough without you stirring things up."

"I don’t stir things up."

"Oh, you stir. Just be careful."

"I'm always careful," I say.