Cold Betrayal

“All right, then,” B. said. “Let’s do it.”

The trip from the DPS headquarters to the Flagstaff PD took seven of the sixty minutes Ali had allowed herself. Once inside the building, she was surprised to learn she and B. were both expected. Governor Dunham had called ahead and cleared the way. Leaving B. and a uniformed officer to watch through the two-way mirror, Ali entered the interview room alone.

Amos Sellers rose to his feet. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “I was expecting a cop. He’s supposed to be bringing two prisoners over from the jail so I can post their bail and take them back home.”

“They’re not coming,” Ali said. “They’ve already been released.”

“Then I’m leaving, too.” He started for the door.

“No, you’re not,” Ali said. “That door is locked. Sit down.”

“Wait a minute,” Sellers said. “You’re not a cop. You can’t order me around.”

“Sit,” she said. “An FBI team is on its way to interview you.”

“Interview me?” Sellers asked, sinking back down on his chair. “About what?”

“Human trafficking. About how The Family’s Not Chosens are routinely shipped out of the country and end up being sold as sex slaves all over the world.”

“That’s not possible,” Amos insisted. “The Not Chosens go to other families, other homes.”

“Who says?”

“Bishop Lowell.”

“And you believe him?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Then you’re a lot dumber than I thought,” Ali said. She glanced at her watch. The minutes were ticking by.

“A team from the FBI is due here any minute to discuss that with you. Right now, though, I’d like you to tell me about A

Hearing the name caused a subtle change in Amos Sellers’s features. His jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed. “What about her?”

“You tell me.”

He shrugged. “She was married to Bishop Lowell at one time, but she ran off. It happened a long time ago. Nobody ever heard from her again.”

“That long time happens to be twelve years,” Ali corrected. “My understanding is that you were sent out to get her. That’s your job, isn’t it—to bring The Family’s runaways back home?”

“I never found A

“She never came back because she’s dead.”

Amos reacted to that bit of news with a visible tremor, as though a jolt of electricity had passed through his body.

“How? When?”

“About the time she left home presumably,” Ali said. “She was found badly beaten but still alive in the desert outside of Kingman. She was hospitalized but didn’t survive. Neither did her baby. They were buried together in a common, unmarked grave and have only just now been identified.”

“I never knew she was dead,” Amos said, shaking his head.

“Didn’t you?” Ali countered. “I’m wondering if it’s possible that you were the father of that baby. A

“I didn’t,” Amos insisted. “I wasn’t the father of her baby, and I didn’t kill her, either.”

Ali shrugged. “Maybe you know who did, then. I’ve heard rumors that A

“I’m telling you, Richard Lowell didn’t kill A

“You called her A

There was a long pause before Amos answered. “Yes,” he said finally, “we were. When I was a little kid, I came down with pneumonia and was really sick. A

“Helped her how?”

“To get away. As far as The Family is concerned, adultery is a serious offense. If Bishop Lowell had found out that the baby wasn’t his, he would have been the one to cast the first stone.”

Ali felt a chill down her spine. “Literally?”

Amos nodded. “I didn’t want A

“Where did you take her?”

“To Kingman,” Amos said. “To meet up with her boyfriend. The last thing she said to me when she got out of my car and into his was that he loved her and was going to take good care of her. She believed it, and I didn’t have any reason not to believe it, either.”

“You saw the boyfriend?”

Amos nodded.

“He was someone you knew?”

Amos nodded again.

“So maybe the boyfriend’s the one who killed her.”

“I asked him about her once, years later. He said she’d had the baby—a little girl—and that they had moved to someplace in California—San Diego, maybe. He said they were both fine.”

“But they weren’t,” Ali added.

Another nod, this one with a resigned inevitability about it.

“Tell me about the boyfriend,” Ali said.

“He was just a deputy back then, stuck in Colorado City for a couple weeks at a time. I don’t know exactly how they met, but they did.”

“Was the boyfriend married?” Ali asked.

“Yes.”

During the lengthening silence, Amos Sellers visibly struggled to come to grips with the idea that A

Noticing that Amos Sellers had so far avoided mentioning the boyfriend by name, Ali did so herself. “Is that how you ended up being a deputy—because you had something on Sheriff Alvarado?”

It was pure bluff, but it worked.

“I didn’t blackmail him, if that’s what you mean,” Amos declared, clenching his fists and laying them on the tabletop. “A year or two later, he put in a good word for me is all, but I never knew he killed her. I never knew she was dead. Like I told you, she was kind to me. That’s the thing about A

Ali watched in amazement as two tears leaked out of Amos’s eyes and coursed down his cheeks. She was even more surprised to find herself placing a comforting hand on one of his knotted fists. “You thought you were saving her,” she said quietly. “You had no way of knowing that you were handing her over to a killer.”

Amos bit his lip. “No,” he agreed. “I didn’t.”

“We’re just talking here,” Ali said. “There’s nothing official about this conversation, one way or the other, but let me ask you this. If you were called upon to do so, would you agree to testify to what you just told me?”

Amos Sellers nodded. “Yes, I would,” he said softly. “A

As Ali stood up to leave, Amos Sellers buried his head in both his hands and wept. She touched his shoulder with her hand as she went past.

“Sorry,” she murmured, before buzzing to be let out. “Sorry for all concerned.”