After giving his cheek a noisy kiss, she turned toward the doorway, where their blonde younger half sister, Marlowe, the current CEO, stood smiling, and offering her best wishes, too. “I’ve met her, and I think she’s perfect for you. So are you two planning a long engagement?”
“Depends on how long it takes her to negotiate a signed contract with everybody that, after Nova’s baby’s born, she’s not to be called Grandma before we get the chance to try for our own kids.”
The two of them laughed, and Ace grinned, wondering when he’d ever been so happy and excited for the future, despite the questions still hanging over them—and the fact that he had come to finally clean out his desk...and permanently walk away from a job he’d loved and taken pride in.
There was a tap at the door, and Ainsley’s assistant was shaking her head. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but—but there’s a woman here, Micheline Anderson, insisting that she see you. All of you. I sent her into the conference room to wait.”
Ace caught his sisters’ wide-eyed looks of alarm, but his own shock was wrapped up in a white-hot ball of emotion. Curiosity. Rage. Dread over why the self-help guru—the former nurse who was believed to be his own biological mother—had come. Did she mean to finally reveal her end game? Or could Ace at least force her to admit, at last, and even to explain why she had switched him so soon after birth for his parents’ true firstborn son?
Glancing anxiously from one face to the next, Ainsley’s assistant shook her head. “Did I do the wrong thing? Should I have called security? Or the police?”
The siblings exchanged uncertain looks before Ace shook his head. “No. You’re fine. We should hear her out, thanks.”
“But stay close, if you will,” Ainsley urged her. “If you hear raised voices from inside there, or anything alarming, don’t hesitate to call for help.” Looking from Marlowe to her brother, she added, “I don’t think she’s the type to get her own hands dirty with anything violent, but I definitely don’t trust that woman.”
As they walked past their father’s office—the same room where he had been shot—on the way to the smaller conference room, Marlowe pulled out her cell phone and showed them both that she was switching on an app that would make a voice recording of their meeting.
Ace nodded in approval and tried to mask his emotions before stepping into the richly paneled room, where a long, mahogany table sat surrounded by comfortable rolling chairs.
Exquisitely dressed as ever, the elegant, blonde cult leader had seated herself at the head of the table, her long fingers interlaced and her features arranged in the self-satisfied expression of a woman who owned the place.
“What is it that brings you here?” Ace demanded. Ever since that email had arrived, they’d all been waiting anxiously, desperate to know whether the sender’s true game would be money or some form of blackmail. Or was the real purpose of Micheline’s visit something even darker?
Clearly oblivious to his mood, she smiled broadly and clapped her hands together. “I have some wonderful news to share with you today.”
“Wonderful for whom?” asked Ainsley, perching on the edge of her seat as they all claimed chairs, each of the siblings keeping a safe distance from this uninvited guest.
Ignoring her, Micheline went on to say, “Finally, after that dreadful business with that horrible phony, Jace Smith, trying to cash in by pretending to be my son, I’ve found him. I’ve actually found my real son, my darling boy, Jake Anderson, and he’s coming home soon! Isn’t that fantastic?”
“Your real son?” Ace spat out. “Don’t you mean Payne and Tessa Colton’s stolen child?” Feeling sick, he knew then that he’d been holding out hope that Ainsley had been wrong about what she’d said back at the hospital about him having a biological connection to this woman.
“Well, you don’t—you can’t possibly understand.” Micheline’s painted nails splayed out to fan out over her chest.
“So you’re finally admitting it?” Marlowe erupted. “You’re confessing that you switched your own baby—” the mother of an infant son herself, she gave Ace a look brimming with emotion “—for a child that wasn’t yours?”
“I—I—”
“After what you’ve just said, you might as well admit it,” Ainsley said. “Anyway, we already had it figured out.”
Micheline hung her head, a tear trickling down her cheek, creating a thin rivulet of dark mascara. “Of course you have.” She sniffled. “And anyway, there’s no point in holding it back any longer. Not when—not when I’ve been diagnosed with stage three bone cancer. It’s why Jake’s coming. To see me off, in case this last-ditch treatment doesn’t offer the miracle I...”
She paused as if waiting for someone to offer the customary sympathy. But these weren’t customary circumstances.
Even so, Ace finally forced himself to say, “Sorry you’re ill,” because his mother—the real mother who had loved and raised him—would have expected it of him.
Nodding an acknowledgment, Micheline said, “That’s a good man, so I’ll be very honest now. I did switch you with my newborn. It was a low point in my life, when I didn’t feel up to motherhood. I was all alone, and you were a strapping boy, so vigorous. When I saw how sickly the real Ace Colton was, I was sure he wouldn’t survive more than a day or two, and then I’d have my life back again.”
“So you just—you just traded them?” Marlowe’s horror was written in her eyes.
Her eyes damp, Micheline nodded. “I switched him with my biological son so he’d have excellent parents to grow up with and all the advantages I could never give him. And then I took the dying baby. I thought... I was certain I was doing a good thing. The right thing...for—for everyone.”
She burst into sobs and buried her face into a handful of tissues from the box that Ainsley pushed in her direction.
While Micheline wept, the siblings stared at one another, shock rippling over them like blast waves from a bomb that had detonated forty years before. Holy hell, Ace thought, as the details of her story sank in.
Still, something didn’t feel right. As he watched his biological mother’s continuing performance, he knew it in his bones. Micheline was still up to something nefarious. Something he sensed would come back to bite them when the real Jake Anderson finally turned up. But at least he’d have his family—the ones he’d grown up with, his newfound daughter and grandchild on the way, and Sierra. With them by his side, he knew could handle anything.
* * *
Don’t miss previous installments in
The Coltons of Mustang Valley miniseries:
Colton Baby Conspiracy by Marie Ferrarella
Colton’s Lethal Reunion by Tara Taylor Quinn
Colton Family Bodyguard by Jennifer Morey
Colton First Responder by Linda O. Johnston
In Colton’s Custody by Dana Nussio
Colton Manhunt by Jane Godman
Colton’s Deadly Disguise by Geri Krotow
Colton Cowboy Jeopardy by Regan Black
Colton’s Undercover Reunion by Lara Lacombe
Deadly Colton Search by Addison Fox
And be sure to read the final volume in the series:
Colton’s Last Stand by Karen Whiddon
Also available in June 2020!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Colton’s Last Stand by Karen Whiddon.
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Danger. Passion. Drama.
These heart-racing page-turners will keep you guessing to the very end. Experience the thrill of unexpected plot twists and irresistible chemistry.
4 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
Colton’s Last Stand
by Karen Whiddon
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?”
Hunting the Colton Fugitive Page 23
