When she reached them, Leigh flashed Jake a flirty smile before turning her attention to Fiona. “How can I help?”
Tamping down an irrational flash of jealously, Fiona briefly wondered why Micheline hadn’t chosen Leigh to fix up with her son. This thought stung so badly that Fiona wondered at herself. He might be handsome as all get out, but her job came first. Centering herself, Fiona managed a smile. “Since Jake is going to be staying a few days, I thought I’d find out where he’s—”
“I’ve had a room prepared for him,” Leigh interrupted with a small laugh. “Right across the hall from yours, as a matter of fact.”
It took an effort, but Fiona managed to appear happy about that news. A quick look at Jake reassured her that he didn’t appear to notice Leigh’s innuendo. Thank goodness, because the last thing Fiona needed was fighting off a man who believed he was entitled to anything solely due to being Micheline’s son, even if he really wasn’t.
Though so far, Jake seemed the opposite. Almost as if he too saw through all the BS. Nah. She knew better than to make quick assumptions about anyone, most particularly someone related to this cult.
“Here,” Leigh chirped, batting her false eyelashes. “Take this.” She handed Fiona a one-hundred-dollar bill and a card key similar to the room keys used by hotels. “The two of you go out to dinner tonight, on Micheline, of course. There are several excellent restaurants nearby. Enjoy yourselves and get to know one another.” She simpered prettily. “And if you need a recommendation, please let me know.”
Then, with one more pointed glance at Fiona, Leigh sashayed off.
Every male in the room watched her go.
Except Jake. When Fiona looked up, she caught his gaze fixed on her. Her lips parted, and her heart skipped a beat. “What?” she asked, hating how breathless she sounded.
“I’m just wondering at the difference in my mother’s choice of aides,” he said, shrugging. “You and Leigh are like night and day.”
If only he knew. Handing him the hundred-dollar bill, she flashed an impersonal smile. “If you follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”
He stared at the money as if it was tainted. “I don’t want this,” he said, holding it out. “Please. Take it.”
Instead, she looked up at him, frowning. “Why not? Micheline is your mother. I don’t feel comfortable accepting her money.”
“Neither do I.” Once more, he thrust the money toward her, his jaw clenched. Again, she ignored it.
With a grimace, he tossed it on the floor. Horrified, she eyed it, torn between not wanting to be wasteful but also not wanting to let him win. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore, so she retrieved it and jammed the bill into her pocket.
“Let me show you to your room.” She turned and walked away, not bothering to look behind her to make sure he followed. When she reached the second-floor hallway, she headed toward her own quarters, stopping right outside the door. Checking the room number on the card key, she saw he was indeed directly across from her. This knowledge caused her stomach to swoop alarmingly, since under any other circumstances she’d be teasing him about sneaking into each other’s room.
“Here you are.” She used the card to unlock and open the door. “I’m right there,” she said, pointing at her door. “Knock if you need anything.”
Following her inside the compact space, he looked around with interest. “Not bad. Not what I expected, but still...”
She dropped the card key and the hundred-dollar bill on the dresser. “I’ll see you later,” she said, her voice as stiff as her spine.
“Wait.” He caught her arm. She tensed, not sure what she expected but hoping she was wrong. When she glared at him, he released her. “Sorry. But please, can we talk a minute?”
“Sure.” Aware crossing her arms would be a defensive posture, she kept her hands down at her sides. “If you want to know where I want to go for dinner, it doesn’t matter. I’ll eat whatever you’re in the mood for.”
“I don’t want to talk about dinner.” He gestured to the room’s lone chair. Once she’d taken a seat, he sat down on the edge of his bed. Elbows on his knees, he studied her.
“Why are you here?” he asked, the intensity in his voice matching his eyes. “Leigh, I can understand. But you? You seem like a levelheaded person, someone who considers her options carefully and deliberately before making a choice. What made you choose to join the AAG?”
Her cover story stuck in her throat. For whatever reason, she couldn’t lie to him, this handsome man she’d just met and barely knew. Something about him... He appeared to be the first genuine person she’d met since arriving at AAG, though she really didn’t know enough about him to reach that kind of a conclusion. She settled for a shrug instead of telling her story.
“You know this is a cult, right?” he continued, his expression fierce.
Making sure to act alarmed, she made a sound of indignation. “Do you truly expect me to sit here while you say bad things about AAG? Your mother is practically a saint.”
He laughed at that. “You clearly don’t know her, then.” He held up both hands in a defensive posture as she deepened her frown. “Never mind, Fiona. I didn’t mean to upset you. Forget I said anything.”
She nodded, careful and cautious. Still smiling, he looked at her, rugged and masculine and the sexiest damn cowboy she’d ever met.
“I’m looking forward to having dinner with you later.” He jumped to his feet, dusting his palms off on the front of his jeans. “But right now, I’m going to get my bag from my truck, shower and unpack, and maybe even take a quick nap.”
Considering him, she stood. Ignoring the insistent tug of attraction she felt when she looked at him, she nodded. “I’ll see you later, then,” she said, her voice clear and steady.
He followed her toward the main entrance. As she turned to walk away, he called her name. “Fiona.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes?”
“Seven tonight?”
“I’ll be ready,” she said, her heart racing for absolutely no reason whatsoever.
Back in her room, she shook her head, making a face at herself in her mirror. Now was definitely not the time to be acting like a teenager with a crush. Especially since putting her and Jake together was something Micheline wanted to do. That alone made Fiona want to do the opposite.
In her five years working in the Phoenix FBI office, she’d been jockeying for a prime undercover operation like this one. She’d known in advance of coming here what kind of woman led the organization. She’d spent hours prepping, learning everything she could about Micheline Anderson and the AAG. Naturally, she’d also read quite a bit of material on Micheline’s estranged son, who actually was Ace Colton.
For all intents and purposes, Jake appeared to be the polar opposite of the woman he apparently still believed to be his mother. As if when he’d left home, he’d asked himself in every situation, what would Micheline do, and then done the exact opposite. Of course, that made sense. Jake wasn’t Micheline’s biological son.
He led a quiet life, running a small cattle ranch north of here. At first, Fiona had suspected Micheline had asked him to visit with the intention of bleeding him dry, but judging from bank records, every penny Jake made went right back into his ranch. He wasn’t exactly flush with cash.
Unlike the head of AAG, who spent money as if there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Which explained why Micheline was behind in her personal income taxes and appeared to be struggling to juggle all her bills. She booked speaking engagements and even organized a few crowd-funding events, lining her pockets with donations, fees and contributions from people desperate to live their best lives. Despite that, she managed to stay cash poor.
Fiona planned to take her down. She wouldn’t rush, she’d be careful, her methods above reproach. But she would stop her. The money laundering was bad enough, but her s
ome of her investment schemes had bilked a lot of people out of cash.
During her training at Quantico, Fiona had learned to trust her instincts. Her gut told her that Jake wasn’t involved in Micheline’s scams, ongoing or pending. As far as Leigh, who appeared to honestly believe in her boss and her mission, Fiona thought the young woman might have been blinded by what she viewed as altruistic behavior. Either that, or Leigh was a very good actress.
Intelligence had indicated Micheline had something big coming up, though no one had been able to learn what exactly it might be.
Before taking this assignment, Fiona had gone over every possible scenario with her colleague Holden St. Clair. He’d recently spent some time undercover investigating a killer who targeted beauty pageant contestants—the same beauty pageant Leigh Denning had won. He’d even fallen for, and gotten engaged to, a contestant—a distant Colton cousin named Isabella. Appearances were definitely deceiving when it came to Micheline and her people. No one had known the prodigal son would return, but she’d been prepared just in case. She hadn’t expected Micheline to try and push them together or her own, visceral reaction to Jake’s rugged masculinity. In the past, Fiona had been drawn to more clean-cut, law enforcement types. Jake, with his wavy brown hair and easy, relaxed attitude, seemed the exact opposite.
Cowboys had never been her type. Until now, apparently, when she needed to stay focused on her job—digging up information that would expose Micheline. Maybe it wasn’t too late for some of these poor, deluded people.
At least Jake appeared levelheaded and unwilling to put up with any nonsense. Yet one more thing she liked about him.
Whatever Micheline was plotting involved Jake and, to a lesser extent, Fiona. Not for one second did Fiona believe Micheline had cancer. She’d lied to get her son to come visit, and she lied to her followers, not just seeking donations, but stripping people of their entire savings by getting them to invest in her schemes. While gathering proof of this, as well as investigating allegations of money laundering, the Bureau had been unable to find even one recent instance where Micheline had visited a doctor—any kind of physician at all. Not a general practitioner and certainly not a specialist like an oncologist.
Thinking of the Bureau had Fiona grabbing the untraceable cell phone she’d been issued when she’d taken this assignment. She had a text from Holden, saying he had news and to text back when she could talk. They’d settled on a basic sort of code in case someone else managed to get ahold of her phone. If she texted back anything but the number 1, he knew not to call.
She texted 1 and waited. A moment later, her phone rang.
“Big goings-on at Colton Oil,” Holden said. “Seems Micheline paid them a little visit recently. She’s still claiming she’s dying from stage-three bone cancer.”
“Okay.” Since this wasn’t news, Fiona waited. She also had to be careful what she said, just in case someone might be listening in via a hidden bug or recording device in her room.
“She told Ainsley Colton and Ace Colton about her son Jake Anderson’s upcoming visit,” Holden continued.
“Yes, he’s here now. He got in today.”
“Wow. Then things are about to get really interesting. Does he know? I mean, rumors have swirled about a Colton baby switch for months.”
“He doesn’t appear to know, actually,” Fiona responded. “He’s never mentioned anything about Micheline switching babies in the hospital when both Ace and Jake were newborns.” If Micheline had done this, she might be guilty of additional crimes, too.
“That’s really odd, since the entire Colton family does, and they raised Micheline’s birth son, who grew up as Ace Colton. My fiancée, Bella, has gotten closer to Marlowe throughout all of this, and of course I’m old army buddies with Spencer, and they shared this with me.”
“Then what game is Micheline playing?” she asked.
“That’s for you to find out,” Holden replied. “How are you and Jake getting along?”
Rubbing her now aching temples, Fiona sighed. “For whatever reason, I felt an instant connection to Jake.”
“Micheline instructed you to cozy up to him?”
“Yes. We’re going to dinner tonight, on her.”
Holden laughed, a short bark of sound. “Have fun with that. Remember, stay out of trouble.”
Ending the call, Fiona stashed the phone back in her pocket. Its compact size made it almost undetectable, and she kept it on her at all times. She wouldn’t put it past Micheline and her crew to periodically search her room.
Replaying the information Holden had given her, she kept circling back to Jake. Did he know? Could that possibly be the reason he’d stayed away all these years? Right then and there, she knew she had to do what Micheline had asked of her—get close to Jake and find out exactly what kind of information he had.
* * *
All the way to his car, Jake gave himself a mental tongue lashing. Fiona Smith might be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, but she certainly didn’t need rescuing. As an adult, she’d clearly made a conscious choice to join his mother’s “self-help” group. He barely knew her and did not have the right to try and change her mind. However, that didn’t stop him from wanting to.
Hefting his bag over his shoulder, he gave a quiet groan. He’d never been able to resist attempting to right a wrong, especially when said wrong involved children, animals or women. Micheline was a parasite, preying on vulnerable people, using them for her own ends and twisting their minds. He couldn’t stand to see Fiona meet that sort of fate.
Since he didn’t intend on being here long enough to have time to persuade her, he figured he’d sound her out at dinner tonight to ascertain her true thoughts about the AAG. One thing he’d noticed in particular was that many members didn’t even seem to be aware it was a cult. If he could get her to admit that, she might be agreeable to talking to one of his friends who worked to deprogram cult members. It was worth a shot.
Back in his small room, which seemed just as antiseptic and impersonal as that of any chain motel, he walked to the window and pushed aside the curtains. Instead of a view of cement and parking lots, he saw a lush garden filled with vibrant flowers of every color. A large metal bench made an inviting place to sit, and he could have sworn he saw a koi pond on the other side of the bench.
For just an instant, he allowed himself to enjoy the restful beauty of it all. And then he remembered who had most likely arranged that lush garden, and why. Micheline would do anything—anything—to get what she wanted. She’d move people around like chess pieces, manipulate their emotions and their surroundings, as long as she thought it would benefit her in some way. She cared nothing for the wreckage she left in her wake. Collateral damage, she’d always said, as if the wording made it right. The garden no doubt played some role in her schemes. She never did anything without a reason.
At thirteen, he’d come to the realization that if she found a way to use him, she would. As a kid, he’d been forced to charm elderly couples into investing with his mom, aware his mother only wanted their money. Back then, she’d marketed herself as a skillful investor, but secretly priding herself on taking every cent of people’s life savings. She also lured in a rotating crop of men in her personal life, all wealthy, training Jake to make them all feel as if she might be a doting mother and a wonderful girlfriend. Of course, once she’d managed to use them, she’d dump them and move on to another, uncaring that her young son might have just been happy to have a father figure around.
At seventeen, having seen far too much of the awful things she did to people, he’d taken off before she could.
Shaking his head, he reminded himself not to focus on the past. Yet, even now, with his mother claiming to be dying, he had difficulty believing anything she said. In fact, he couldn’t help but suspect she had an ulterior motive for wanting him to be here. She never did anything without a reason,
usually one that benefited her.
He took a hot shower and then stretched out on his bed with the intention of dozing. But images of a doe-eyed woman with a sleepy smile had him tossing and turning. He finally abandoned the idea of a nap and decided to go for a walk instead. Might as well explore the AAG headquarters and grounds.
Managing to slip through the lobby unnoticed, he headed in search of an exit that went to the back and the garden area he’d viewed from his room. To his annoyance, Micheline’s overly chipper minion caught sight of him and made a beeline for him, her heels tapping a staccato beat on the floor.
“There you are!” Leigh beamed at him as if she felt so delighted to see him. “Where are you going?”
He explained he’d decided to tour the premises, which appeared to distress her.
“Alone?” she asked, her tone appalled. “What happened to Fiona? She was given the task of escorting you anywhere you wanted to go.”
“I told her I wanted to take a nap,” he clarified, not wanting to cause trouble for Fiona. “She has no idea that I’ve even left my room.”
“I see.” Still frowning, Leigh thumbed her walkie-talkie and spoke a few words into it. When she met his gaze again, she’d smoothed out her expression. “Fiona will be here momentarily.”
With an effort, he kept from groaning out loud. “I really didn’t want to disturb her,” he said.
Leigh’s brightly painted lips widened into a smile so false, it made him want to grimace. “For the time that you’re here, Fiona is to devote herself completely to you. Micheline has given her that assignment, and it’s in her best interest to make sure she does what she’s asked to do.”
Was that a threat? The words seemed to indicate it was, though Leigh’s vacuously pleasant expression told him she wouldn’t see it that way.
Fiona rounded the corner, hurrying toward them. The first sight of her caught him like a punch in the stomach.
Colton's Last Stand Page 3
