Colton's Last Stand
Autor:in
Karen Whiddon
Gelesen
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Kapitel
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Chapter 1
For the first time in her life, undercover FBI agent Fiona Evans truly understood how someone became indoctrinated into a cult. Ever since arriving at the Affirmative Alliance Group center, she’d been bombarded by a relentless onslaught of information, all presented in such a smiling, feel-good, we-only-want-the-best-for-you way that she felt guilty asking for a break. There were seminars and classes, films and audio recordings that were piped into her room at night under the guise of helping her learn while she slept. The other members, so earnestly pleasant and cheerful, were supportive, telling her over and over again that they—and AAG’s founder, Micheline Anderson—only wanted to help her become the best person she could possibly be.
Luckily, Fiona considered herself strong and capable, well trained and not the slightest bit susceptible to either criticism or brainwashing. If she weren’t, even she might have bought in to the relentless indoctrination of nonsense by AAG.
Teeth aching from all the saccharine, Fiona smiled and nodded and pretended until she thought she would scream, which she did sometimes inside her head while smiling back at them.
Even Micheline, a woman Fiona thought of privately as the cult’s supreme ruler, went out of her way to show an interest in her group’s newest arrival, sending a personal note of welcome along with fresh flowers. “An honor,” whispered Leigh Dennings, one of Micheline’s protégées. “So rare. True proof of how special you are.”
With difficulty, Fiona kept from snorting at that. Gullible she wasn’t, though she definitely wanted Leigh and the others to believe she was. In fact, she’d taken great care to make sure she appeared to be exactly the kind of vulnerable person they sought out as recruits. They’d found her, destitute and alone, on the streets of Mustang Valley, asking where she might find a shelter to get a free meal.
Instead, one of the AAG members had found her and taken her to its lovely and welcoming center, ten miles from downtown Mustang Valley. It had a long, tree-lined dirt drive leading in from the main road, an always open, hunter-green gate, and big potted plants in front. Fiona had stared at the woodsy, yet fancy log cabin exterior, large triangular roof over two sprawling stories, before being led into the large, open lobby. She’d been served complimentary beverages and a light lunch and told someone would be out to speak with her soon.
Affirmative Alliance Group had been founded forty years ago by Micheline Anderson, formerly known as Luella Smith. Ever since the FBI had been given an anonymous tip hinting Micheline’s involvement in numerous crimes, including money laundering, they’d researched her. A gifted nurse, Micheline promoted herself as a healer and self-help guru. These days, her followers numbered in the hundreds of thousands, most of those via the internet. Locally, members were only in the hundreds, most of those living in their own homes. Only about twenty people lived in the AAG center full-time, mostly Micheline and her inner circle as well as new recruits who were in the process of being converted.
Like me, Fiona thought grimly. She’d bear it—she had to. As long as she kept her eyes on the big picture, the reason she’d come here, she would survive.
Trying to grab some alone time, Fiona hurried from the crowded room where she’d just attended yet another seminar on becoming your best you—or some variation thereof—and rushed toward the ladies’ room. She’d learned early on that around here, the only place they’d leave you alone was either in the shower or the toilet.
Just as she reached the door, someone grabbed her arm.
“I’ve been looking for you!” Leigh gushed. “You’re not going to believe who asked about you.”
With difficulty, Fiona kept from rolling her eyes. “Micheline?” she guessed.
Clearly astonished, Leigh giggled. “Wow, you are amazing. Smart as well as lovely. Come with me. Micheline asked me to bring you around to talk with her.”
Though Fiona actually considered refusing, she reminded herself of her task and nodded. For such a petite and delicate person, Leigh kept an awfully firm grip on Fiona’s arm as she steered her down a long hallway, through some double doors marked Private and into a part of the center where Fiona had never been.
Here, plush carpet softened their footsteps to a hush. Elegant mahogany tables displayed expensive-looking vases and statues, matched with clearly valuable artwork hung under muted lighting. Fiona felt as if she’d left the Old West and stepped into the corporate offices of some über-rich CEO.
Giving herself a mental shake, she made a show of gaping around her at everything all at once. Seeing, Leigh laughed, the sound like bells tinkling. “It’s something else, isn’t it? I remember the first time I saw it. I was overwhelmed, too.”
They stopped in front of an intricately carved mahogany double door. Spine straight, like a soldier standing at attention, Leigh knocked three times, the staccato sound sharp.
“Come in.” A warm voice, inviting confidences. Micheline Anderson. Finally. Playing the role of everyone’s friend. Fiona’s gut tightened. Funny, in this place, her gut was the only thing she trusted.
Stepping inside, Fiona eyed Leigh, half expecting her to bow. Instead, Leigh murmured something that sounded like, “Here you are,” and turned to leave.
“Wait.” With a benevolent smile, the leader of the AAG waved Leigh to a chair. “You may have a seat also, Fiona,” she offered, making it sound as if Fiona actually had a choice.
“We are to have a special visitor this afternoon.” Bright blue eyes sparkling, Micheline pushed back a strand of her well-coiffed blond hair. “My son, Jake. I haven’t seen him for twenty-three years. I would appreciate if both of you helped in making sure he feels welcome.”
Immediately, Leigh nodded. “Will do,” she chirped. “If you could provide me with some sort of list of his likes and dislikes, I’ll have staff get to work immediately.”
Micheline’s broad smile faltered. Just a tad before she had it firmly back in place. “Honestly, I have no idea. The last time I saw him, he was only seventeen.”
Fiona looked from one woman to another. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea why you wanted to talk to me.”
Leigh snapped her head around to eye Fiona, her perfect brow creased in a frown. But then, so quickly Fiona wasn’t sure if she might have imagined it, Leigh smoothed her expression in a return to the ever-pleasant, eager-to-please beauty queen she was. “Patience, Fiona,” she said, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
Micheline watched them interact with the same compassion that had endeared her to her followers. A slight smile curved her red-painted lips as she waited. “You’re new here,” she told Fiona. “Tell me, what do you think of the AAG?”
Heart skipping a beat, for a split second, Fiona found herself at a loss for words. She recovered quickly, remembering all the hours of intensive research she’d put in. “It’s a bit overwhelming at times,” she volunteered softly. “I can see so much happiness, so much good. I’m just not sure I could ever be worthy of belonging.” There. Textbook. No doubt exactly the sort of thing Micheline had hoped she would say.
“Of course you’re worthy,” Micheline purred. “I see great potential in you. Which is why I’m going to assign you to my son. Show him around, keep him company while I’m in meetings, and make sure he has a good time.”
“She’s giving you a great honor,” Leigh prodded when Fiona remained silent.
Not sure how she felt about this, Fiona pasted a smile on her face and nodded. Best to play along. “Thank you, ma’am,” she stammered, hoping she appeared dazed enough. Her role was to play a grateful and zealous convert while obtaining concrete proof of even one of the crimes Micheline was suspected of being involved in. She already had substantive leads on Micheline’s varied schemes, including running a fake marriage counseling center outside town, and scamming people out of money with phony self-help seminars.
Apparently, she did. Micheline leaned back in her chair, her expression satisfied. “You and Leigh will meet him when he gets here. He’s driving down from northern Arizona, and I expect him sometime between two and three.” With that said, she picked up a stack of papers from her desk and began reading through them, a clear dismissal.
“Come on.” Leigh took Fiona’s arm. “Let’s go up to your room and see if we can find you something suitable to wear.”
Allowing herself to be led away, Fiona glanced down at her fashionably torn jeans. “What’s wrong with what I have on?” she asked.
Leigh only shook her head.
Once they reached Fiona’s room on the second floor, Leigh followed her inside. “Micheline has great plans for you,” she announced the moment the door closed.
Every instinct on alert, Fiona turned. “Really? What kind of plans?”
“She’s grooming you to become a welcome coordinator like me, to help find people just like yourself who need help and could use the AAG’s warm and welcoming family.”
“Wow.” Pretending to be awestruck, Fiona waited to hear the catch. One thing she’d picked up early on here was that AAG did nothing out of the simple goodness of its hearts. It was all about getting money out of its followers.
“Wow is right,” Leigh gushed. “She wants you to focus on Mustang Valley College. Mainly on one particularly lonely, wealthy freshman named Theodore Royce the Third, whose money hasn’t brought him happiness.”
“But AAG will,” Fiona finished, her tone bright, even though her stomach churned.
“Of course. He’s already sought us out, attended a few seminars and talking to one of our counselors. You will take over for her.” Leigh had begun riffling through Fiona’s closet. “You don’t have many dresses.”
Fiona crossed her arms. “I’m not really a dress-up kind of person.”
“Why not? You’re so pretty and you have an amazing body,” Leigh gushed. “Why not use that to your best advantage and show it off to prospective members? How do you think I became Miss Mustang Valley?”
Weighing her options, Fiona decided to play along. “Such an amazing accomplishment.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Leigh wrinkled her nose. “Now I’m going to help you. We’re going to do a makeover.”
“When?”
“Right now, silly.” Patting the desk chair, Leigh picked up Fiona’s admittedly small makeup bag and looked through it. “This won’t do at all,” Leigh muttered. “I’ll be right back.”
And she dashed off, leaving Fiona staring after her. A moment later, Leigh returned, carrying a much larger makeup case. “I want you to pay close attention to what I do,” Leigh instructed her. “So that you can replicate the look on your own. I’ll let you borrow some of my makeup even, since I have tons more.”
As Leigh began rummaging through her stuff, Fiona put her hand on the other woman’s arm to stop her. “What’s the point?” she asked, honestly bewildered. “Why are you having me change the way I look?”
Batting her long—surely false—eyelashes, Leigh sighed. “To help you attract Jake, Micheline’s son. No offense, but Micheline feels you might need just a little help in that department. And I agree with her.”
“Attract Micheline’s son?” Fiona felt as if they’d entered an alternate universe. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because he’s quite the catch, I hear.” Leigh leaned closer, meeting Fiona’s gaze directly. “And Micheline has given her blessing.”
Ewww. Creepy. Wisely, Fiona kept these thoughts to herself. Everything Micheline Anderson did had a reason. So what hidden motive might be behind her using Fiona as bait for her son?
“You’re a beautiful woman, Fiona,” Leigh continued, not noticing. “But honestly, you present yourself as stern and serious and strong. Men don’t like that sort of thing, you know.”
Resisting the urge to gape at the other woman, Fiona widened her eyes instead. “I’m proud of being strong,” she said quietly. “And any man who doesn’t like that doesn’t need to be hanging around me.”
Her comment had Leigh giggling. “You’re so funny.” Even though Fiona hadn’t been joking. “Now sit still and let me show you how to enhance what the universe gave you.”
Fiona sighed. Why not? If this was the worst thing that happened to her while here, then she’d take it. Though she already knew how to apply makeup, it’d be interesting to get Leigh’s take.
She sat unmoving while Leigh, humming tunelessly under her breath, applied foundation, blush and powder before moving on to her eyebrows. Fiona didn’t balk until Leigh came after her with a pair of spidery-looking false eyelashes.
“Please.” Fiona held up her hand to ward her off. “How about we just use mascara?”
“They’re magnetic,” Leigh explained, as if that made all the difference in the world. “I just put a little bit of special eyeliner on you and they’d attach right to it.”
“No, thank you.” Keeping her tone polite, Fiona shook her head. “I have some great mascara that I’d prefer to use instead.”
Leigh heaved a disappointed sigh, but she put the lashes back in a box. “Fine. You won’t look as dramatic, though.”
Fiona nodded. “I understand.” She did suffer through letting Leigh apply three painstaking coats of mascara.
“There you are,” Leigh finally cooed. “Look at yourself and see how stunning you are.”
Half curious, half dreading it, Fiona strolled into the bathroom to take a peek in the mirror. As soon as she caught sight of herself, she froze. Leigh was good, she had to admit. She’d used the makeup to highlight Fiona’s cheekbones and make her eyes appear huge. Even her lips, painted a reddish-purple color, appeared plumper, more sensual.
In short, she didn’t look like herself at all. In fact, Fiona thought, if anyone at the Bureau were to see her like this, she’d get laughed out of the building. But thankfully, she wasn’t in the office—she was undercover.
No one would see, she reminded herself, willing her heart rate to slow. Since here she’d been playing a role, she might as well embrace a new look along with it.
“Well?” Leigh demanded, poking her head in the door. “What do you think?”
“I love it!” Fiona enthused. “I don’t even recognize my face. You’re amazing.”
Leigh smiled at the compliment. “See, I told you with a little work you’d be gorgeous. Now all you have to do is get Jake Anderson to look at you and he’s a goner.”
“I see.” Though Fiona didn’t. “I’m still not sure—”
“Failure is not an option,” Leigh cut her off, her normally breezy tone turning emphatic. “I need you to get super close to him, as close as possible.” Unexpectedly, she pulled Fiona in for a hug. “And then since we’re BFFs now, you can tell me everything about it.”
Fiona hugged her back, pretending to be hugely grateful for the other woman’s friendship. Her cover had just gotten even more perfect. “Of course I will. You don’t know how long it’s been since I had a real friend.”
Leigh’s bright blue eyes got a little misty at that. Either she was a master actress, or her emotions were easily swayed. “I’ll always be here for you, girlfriend,” she declared. “Now let’s go downstairs and wait for Micheline’s son to arrive.”
Battling a strange mixture of anger, hope and frustration, Jake Anderson finally turned onto the long driveway leading to the AAG center. He hadn’t seen his mother in over two decades, and really hadn’t cared to. Now, at forty years old, part of him couldn’t help but wonder if his seventeen-year-old self’s perception of her might have been slightly tainted by his youth. Nah, he didn’t think so. Micheline Anderson might be beloved by her thousands of followers, but inside she was a monster to the core.
And, if she was to be believed, now dying of some rare form of fatal cancer. Somehow, she’d tracked him down and called him, tearfully begging him to come see her so they could reconcile before she left this earth. What kind of a man would he be to deny the woman who’d given birth to him his presence in the last moments of her life?
The sad thing was, he didn’t believe her. From his earliest recollection, his mother had done nothing but lie.
When he’d escaped her clutches right after graduating high school early, he hadn’t bothered to change his name, since Jake Anderson seemed so common. He’d worked hard, managed to erase the scars of his past and built a life for himself. After putting in several years as a ranch foreman, he was now the proud owner of a small but growing property of his own, a couple hours north of Mustang Valley.
He didn’t know what Micheline had planned, but he knew for certain he wanted no part of it. He’d go visit her, stay a couple days and get out. Hopefully untouched and unscarred.
Pulling up to the building, he parked and got out of his truck. Though he’d seen photographs of the place in a few newspapers, he allowed himself to admire its clean, woodsy lines. Welcoming and neat, the renovated ranch house seemed the perfect place to allow Micheline to ply her trade.
None of his business, he reminded himself. Still, every fiber of his being clenched in dread as he forced himself to walk through the front door.
Blinking at the change in light, he suddenly came face-to-face with the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Wide, dark eyes met his, and a graceful hand came up to push back silky black hair away from her face. He couldn’t help but let his gaze roam, from her slender shoulders to her full bust and narrow waist.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice throaty and sexy as hell. “Can I help you?”
“Yes.” He managed to rapidly collect his wayward thoughts. “Sorry. I’m Jake Anderson. I’m here to see Micheline.” Damned if he could bring himself to call her his mother.
She blinked and extended her hand. “Oh. Welcome. I’m Fiona Smith.” She used her fake name rather than real since AAG had tech experts. “I was asked to show you around until Micheline’s schedule clears enough so she can see you.”
Figured. He suppressed a flash of resentment. Micheline couldn’t even bother to make sure her afternoon was open enough to see her own son.
For a moment, he seriously considered turning around, getting back into his truck and heading home.
But then Fiona took his arm and leaned close, bringing a tantalizing feminine scent with her. “Please,” she whispered, distress shining in her eyes. “I’m new here. Showing you around is the first task I’ve ever been given. I don’t want to fail at it.”
What could he do but go with her? Still, she might be attractive, but what kind of person could she be if she belonged to his mother’s cult?
She led him down a long hall into a large room dominated by a huge stone fireplace. A fire blazed cheerfully, despite the relative warmth of the Arizona day. People were seated on various couches or at tables, some reading, a few talking, and he even saw one or two playing a board game or doing a puzzle. Almost, he thought, as if he stood in the lobby of some fancy hotel.
He eyed them as he passed, trying for casual but wondering if he’d be able to see something on their faces or in their eyes that might reveal what had made them ripe for Micheline’s indoctrination. When Jake had been younger, she’d talked about someday starting her own church. In fact, she’d managed to create her own group of followers.
He wanted no part of it.
Fiona continued on, her hips swaying as she led him to a door on the far side of the huge room. Just as they reached it, an overly made-up young blonde woman rushed over.
“Hello there,” she murmured, looking him up and down, her predatory manner reminding him so much of the way his mother used to act that he nearly took a step back. “I’m Leigh Dennings, a welcome coordinator here at the AAG. And the reigning Miss Mustang Valley,” she chirped.
Not sure how to respond to that, he settled on “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She smiled sweetly at him before turning her attention to Fiona. “If you need anything, anything at all, just ask someone at the reception desk to call me and I’ll be right there.”
Fiona nodded. “Will do.” She checked her watch. “Do you have any idea what time Micheline will be available?”
Good question. Eyeing Fiona, Jake waited to hear her answer.
Leigh shrugged. “I know she’s booked solid all afternoon. I’m sure she’ll be out here as soon as she can.”
“You know what?” Jake decided he’d had enough. “Take me to her. Right now.”
“I... I don’t think she’d appreciate me doing that,” Leigh stammered, eyeing him as if he’d suddenly sprouted a pair of horns and a tail. Fiona, on the other hand, looked at him with what he’d swear was approval. In fact, she appeared to be struggling not to laugh.
“I don’t care,” he told Leigh. “Not only is she the one who called and asked to see me, but it’s been years. If today is not a good day, then I’ll be heading home and you can tell her if she really wants to see me, she’s welcome to make the drive to my place.” Which he knew she’d never do in a million years. Micheline preferred to remain in her place of power.
Still staring, Leigh finally nodded. “Give me five minutes,” she said and then rushed off.
Both he and Fiona watched her go.
“I take it your relationship with your mom is strained,” Fiona drawled. She sounded completely different than the nervous, uncertain acolyte she’d resembled a few minutes ago. Was it because Leigh was gone?
“Strained doesn’t even begin to describe it,” he replied, flashing her a sideways grin.
Her dark eyes widened, and then she grinned right back at him. “I like you.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Here comes Micheline. Give ’em hell, cowboy.”
Stunned, he barely managed to collect himself in time to turn and watch as his mother barreled toward him, her high heels clicking on the wood floor.
“My boy,” Micheline boomed, causing more than a few heads to turn. She held out her arms, clearly expecting him to rush into them.
Since he didn’t want to cause a scene, though he stayed in place, he allowed her to hug him, hoping the grimace on his face looked more like a smile than it felt.
“Let me look at you.” Pulling back, Micheline made a show of pretending to take in every detail of his appearance. “Wow, son. Forty sure looks good on you.” The slight edge in her voice told him how little she liked the idea of having a child so old.
Already bored, Jake thanked her. “Is there somewhere private we can go and talk?” he asked.
To his disbelief, she actually checked her watch, a flashy designer thing that cost more than several head of cattle. “I don’t live too far from here,” she mused, considering. “But I’ve got a magazine crew arriving in thirty minutes to do a photoshoot and feature on me for Mindful Living magazine.” She shook her head, sending her artfully styled blond hair swinging around her perfectly made-up face. “I know.” She brightened. “We can chat in my office.”
Chat. He’d driven all this way so she could squeeze out thirty minutes to chat with him.
“Follow me.” Without waiting to see if he would, Micheline spun around and marched off in the direction from which she’d come. Leigh trailed along after her.
Fiona put her hand on his arm, as if she understood exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t know what’s going on here,” she said. “But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give her a shot.”
Jaw clenched, he nodded.
When they reached Micheline’s office, the double mahogany doors were wide-open. Jake stared as he realized several other people were already there. In addition to his mother, Leigh and Fiona, a big blond guy with a crew cut and a physique that screamed bodyguard stood with his arms folded.
Moving with all the grace of a queen, Micheline sailed around to the other side of her massive desk and settled herself in her luxurious leather chair. “Have a seat, Jake,” she said. “And then we’ll talk.”
Instead, Jake took his time looking around the room, taking care to make eye contact with every single one of them. “Could we have some privacy?” he asked the room at large.
Fiona actually took a step toward the door before apparently realizing no one else had moved. They all looked to Micheline, clearly waiting for her approval.
An expression of shock crossed her face. But then she slowly nodded. “Everyone out.”
“Even me?” the muscular guy asked.
“Yes, Bart,” Micheline said, smiling. “You can stand guard outside my door.” She looked at Jake, one perfectly shaped brow raised. “He’s my bodyguard.”
“I figured.”
As soon as the door closed, Micheline came around the desk and took Jake’s arm. He didn’t jerk away, but he felt himself tense up even though he knew better than to show any weakness around her. He let her lead him over to a small, overstuffed couch in a little sitting area to one side of her office.
“Sit.” She patted the space next to her. “When I’m gone, all of this will be yours.”
He didn’t bother to hide his distaste. “I don’t want it. Any of it. Micheline—” damned if he’d call her Mom or Mother “—you said you were dying.”
“Yes.” She looked down, hands twisting in her lap. “Stage-three bone cancer. I’m not sure how much time I have left.”
“Tell me about your treatment,” he asked. “I assume you’re doing chemo and some sort of radiation?”
Grimacing with distaste, she waved her hand. “I don’t want to talk about any of that right now. We’ll have plenty of time for that later. How long are you staying?”
He didn’t have the heart to tell her he had planned on heading home in the morning. The less time he spent under her roof, the better. The things he’d witnessed her do to others when he’d been a boy still made him shudder. He’d seen her order beatings when someone defied her and once, he seriously wondered if he might have witnessed her disposing of a body she’d murdered. As for himself, he guessed he’d been lucky that she’d pretended he didn’t exist.
“I’m not sure,” he replied instead. “I definitely don’t want to intrude on your busy schedule.” Said without even a hint of sarcasm.
Micheline’s expressive face fell. “I have so much to make up for with you,” she mused. “Before...you know.” She waved her hand vaguely.
By that, he deduced that she didn’t want her assistants, or whatever they were, to know about her cancer. None of his business, he thought. “The question is,” he said, deciding to be blunt, “are you going to have time? It’s clear you’re insanely busy.”
Eyes narrowing slightly, she regarded him. While he waited for her answer, part of him wished she’d just dismiss him and let him go. Another part, a tiny kernel of the child he’d once been, hoped she’d put him first for once.
“Can you give me a couple of days?” Micheline pleaded. “Too many people depend on me for me to just drop everything. If I can tie up some loose ends and delegate a few things, I’ll be free to spend a day or two with you. Will that work?”
This from a woman who hadn’t ever seemed to care if her own son was lonely. And when he’d craved a father figure, she’d told him coldly that she had no idea who his father had been.
“We’ll give it a shot,” he responded, his expression as neutral as his voice. “I’ve got people taking care of my livestock. Let’s play it by ear and see how it pans out.”
Was that surprise that flashed across his mother’s face? Surely not, especially when she let out a cry of pure joy and wrapped him in a hug. “Thank you, Jake. Thank you. I promise you won’t regret it.”
He couldn’t shake the feeling she was playing a part. But then again, what did he know? He hadn’t seen her in years. Maybe she’d changed. Doubtful, but who knew?
Micheline released him, pressing a button on a walkie-talkie on her waist and summoning Fiona and Leigh back in. A moment later, the door opened and the two women entered. Micheline turned to Fiona and smoothed her face into a benevolent look. “I’m entrusting him into your care,” she said, patting the younger woman on the shoulder. “Looking after Jake is to be your only task while he’s here, and he’s to want for nothing, you hear?”
Slowly, Fiona nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Micheline and Leigh exchanged a look. Jake wasn’t sure what it meant, but it clearly made Fiona uncomfortable.
“Are you all right with that, Jake?” Micheline asked.
Glancing up, he saw both Fiona and Leigh watched him expectantly. He had no idea why it mattered, but he suddenly didn’t want Fiona to think him heartless.
“That’s fine,” he replied.
“Perfect. Fiona, be your best you and take good care of my son,” Micheline reiterated, taking Leigh’s arm and sailing away.
