She dug out her phone and texted Leigh. I’m here. Where are you?
Almost immediately, a text came back. I got called into a meeting. We’ll have to reschedule later. There are a couple of good seminars starting up right now. Go learn.
Ugh. Attending another class ranked up there among things she’d avoid at all costs if possible. She responded with a smiley face emoji, aware that was vague enough that she couldn’t be accused of lying later.
Now that she’d made it seem like she’d be occupied the next couple of hours, she could do some exploring. Ron Underhill, the man who’d been busted for attacking Theo, had mentioned something about cells. The stark terror in his expression meant they weren’t a good place. Did Micheline have her own prison or holding cells somewhere on the property? Since Micheline acted like queen of her own little kingdom, Fiona wouldn’t be surprised to learn the other woman meted out her own form of justice. Not just illegal, but if Fiona could obtain proof, it would be further grounds to not only arrest Micheline, but to shut the AAG down.
Though it was generally rare to find a house with a basement in Arizona, she had to wonder if Micheline had thought it worth the cost to have one. After all, if one were going to have prison cells, what better place to put them than underneath the house? Like dungeons in old castles.
Though she’d seen nothing to indicate this might be the case, the first thing she decided to look for was a door leading to a stairwell. She figured it wouldn’t be anywhere obvious or easy to get to, which ruled out the common areas. Maybe near the kitchen or the laundry area.
Generally, no one but the workers entered the kitchen, but when she pushed through the double doors, moving purposely as if she belonged there, no one stopped her. Which was good, because the best excuse she’d been able to come up with had been to say she’d gotten hungry and wanted to rustle up a snack.
After passing through the entire kitchen, which, with its gleaming stainless steel equipment, resembled something found in a high-end restaurant, she emerged in a small hallway. Since she could now smell detergent and fabric softener, she guessed the laundry room would be down that way.
Why not? She might as well check it out since she’d come this far.
Sure enough, the next door on the left opened to a large laundry space, again more reminiscent of a hotel than a private home. Of course, the AAG center did house around twenty guests, plus maybe ten to fifteen staff members, though most of the workers made the drive in from town each day.
About to turn around and head back the direction from which she came, she realized the hallway didn’t end after the laundry room, as she’d first supposed. A small hallway, an alcove really, sat on the right, just past it. And at the end of this, a door marked No Entrance.
Which meant it was probably kept locked.
Just in case, she tried the handle. To her surprise, it turned.
Glancing around her—she didn’t even see any of the usual cameras she’d noticed everywhere—she opened the door and slipped inside.
Cement walls. And a concrete staircase, leading down. Still wishing she had her pistol, she began slowly descending the stairs, moving as quietly as possible.
Heart pounding, Fiona tried to imagine what she might find. A medieval-type torture chamber? A clean, gleaming modern prison? Or something in between?
At the bottom of the stairs, she encountered another door. Thick steel and windowless. This one was locked.
On the off chance that someone might have been careless, she stood on tiptoe and felt along the top of the door frame, hoping to find a key. No such luck.
Still, the mere fact that there was space under the house was worth looking in to. There had to be another entrance, she thought. Having only one way in and out would be unsafe, to say the least.
Turning, she retraced her steps. This time, when she went through the kitchen, she snagged a small bag of vegetable crisps from the pantry. One of the workers frowned at her but didn’t comment.
She’d have to figure out another way to access the basement. Underhill’s comments—and his very real terror—had made her curious to learn what other dark secrets Micheline might be hiding.
* * *
In downtown Mustang Valley, the well-decorated store windows and clean store fronts made Jake realize how much the locals loved this town. It also made him realize how seldom Micheline had let him leave. Even when he was a small child, she’d rarely taken him out in public. He’d actually believed that was normal until he’d learned from classmates about their celebrations.
Now that he knew Micheline had never really loved him, he had a better understanding of why his childhood had been so bleak. He knew now not to take it personally, but he wasn’t sure how else to handle it.
Focus on the present, he reminded himself. He hoped and prayed the FBI could bring Micheline and the AAG down. And more than anything, he wanted to be there when it happened.
Once more, he pondered Micheline’s actual plan. Was she trying to turn her cult into its own religion, make herself into the next prophet, sent by a higher being to tell her followers what to think and how to live their lives? Did she plan to delve deeper, beyond her Be the Best You seminars into something else?
He shook his head. Since he was sticking around here for a while—exactly how long, he hadn’t yet decided—he hoped he could be there when Micheline was arrested and charged. She’d gotten away with so much over the years. Even before he’d left home, he’d been pretty sure he’d witnessed her hiding a body that one time.
Thoroughly exasperated with himself, he decided to put all thoughts of the woman who’d switched him at birth out of his mind. He needed to prepare himself mentally to meet the people with whom he should have been raised. The idea filled him with a crazy combination of anticipation and dread.
Ridiculous, if he thought about it. At forty years old, he’d overcome the handicaps of his past and knew he had an easygoing nature. Generally, he had no difficulties making friends. None of what had happened was his fault. In fact he, as well as the Colton family, was a victim in all this.
But would Payne Colton view it that way? From what Jake had read about him, the man wasn’t someone who took well to being crossed. Surely, Payne wouldn’t blame Jake for any of this.
Despite the mental pep talk he gave himself, he still felt nervous as he got ready to meet Ace’s—his—family. He wasn’t sure how they’d react to him now, with so many years gone by, especially after learning that all along, their true son had been living with a megalomaniac narcissist. Their true son.
He swallowed, the thought a bitter pill. Then he considered how Ace must feel, knowing his entire life had been one big lie. No matter what angle one came at the thing from, it all sucked.
A quiet tap on his door coaxed a reluctant smile. Fiona. Though they’d planned to meet in the lobby, she must have changed her mind and decided to come fetch him instead. He truly considered meeting her one of the best things about this visit.
Opening the door, he stared. She grinned at him, her long, dark hair swirling around her shoulders. She wore a silky white dress that clung to her figure and simple silver and turquoise jewelry.
“Well?” she asked, twirling slightly as she stepped inside his room. “Will this do?”
“You look amazing,” he told her, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Let’s go.”
As usual, they made a show of strolling through the common area, hand in hand.
Once they were in his truck, she sighed. “This place is starting to get on my nerves. But you’re not going to believe what I found. There’s a basement under the main building.”
She went on to describe a staircase with a door at the top and the bottom. “I couldn’t get through, since the bottom door was locked.”
“What do you think is on the other side?” he asked, backing out of the parking spot and driving down the
long driveway.
“Well, when they dragged Underhill away, he started going on about cells, as in prison cells. I’m trying to see if perhaps Micheline has her own personal prison. Or torture chamber.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her.” In fact, the more he considered, the more he believed Fiona was right. “I’ll help you look for the other door,” he said.
She eyed him. “It might be better if we look separately. There’s much less chance of being discovered that way.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “But it’s also an easier explanation if we’re caught. We can simply say we were looking for a private place to have a little fun.”
This made her laugh, the sound light and feminine and making his heart squeeze. He needed to remember to be careful around this woman. The intensity of the feelings she aroused in him equaled how badly he could get hurt.
Following the directions on his phone GPS, Jake drove through town and into the country, heading toward the mountains. On the way, they passed a huge wrought iron gate that barred entrance to a gated, clearly wealthy enclave. “I’ve never been in there,” he murmured. “Until I began researching, I would have thought that would be the kind of place a Colton would live.”
“Payne Colton is a rancher,” Fiona said. “He and all of his family live at Rattlesnake Ridge Ranch. I’ve never been there, but I’ve seen lots of pictures. It’s a gorgeous place, made to look like a luxurious guest ranch overlooking the Mustang Valley mountains.”
“I’m aware, but how do you know all this?” he asked, curious.
She laughed. “Research. I had to do quite a bit of reading about Mustang Valley before I took this assignment.”
They continued on, his GPS letting him know he still had about ten miles to go. The flat countryside seemed greener, maybe owing to the more fertile soil as they neared the high desert and the mountains.
Here there were what Jake thought of as ranchettes—wealthy people with luxurious homes and land who wanted to dabble in ranching or farming. He saw a smattering of horses, a few cattle, even a herd of goats, their glossy coats gleaming in the bright sunshine.
“This is beautiful,” Fiona said, clearly impressed. “If I had money, I’d live someplace like this.”
“Me, too,” he replied absently. According to the GPS, they were nearly there.
She gave him a curious glance. “I thought you did. I swear you or someone told me you had your own ranch.”
This made him laugh. “Oh, I do. But it’s a real working ranch. Not all fancy like these.”
“I’d love to see it someday,” she said, surprising him.
Before he could figure out how to respond, the GPS announced they’d arrived at their destination. Ahead of them sat a home, surrounded by fenced fields. In the distance was an actual cattle ranch, with huge, fancy white barns, more fenced pastures and animals dotting the hillside. This place made his own small ranch look like nothing. He couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like, running this kind of operation. He supposed he would have known, had not Micheline switched him and Ace.
“Wow.” Jake slowed. “This is amazing. I wonder how much acreage they have.”
“I believe I read thousands of acres,” she said. “That’s why there are no other houses after this one.”
Gripping the wheel tightly, Jake turned into the long driveway. “Three stories and multiple wings.” He shook his head. “This makes the AAG center look like a summer camp.”
His comment made Fiona laugh. “Yes, it definitely does.”
A huge gate marked the entrance to the ranch. Three Rs were inset right in the center. “Rattlesnake Ridge Ranch,” Fiona said. “I wonder if they really have a problem with rattlesnakes.”
“That wouldn’t work with livestock,” Jake told her. “I’m sure they took care of getting rid of them.”
“Maybe.” Fiona shrugged. “But even if they wiped out the entire snake population one year, they couldn’t ever completely eradicate them. Especially if they were so numerous the ranch was named after them.”
“Annual rattlesnake roundup.” Jake squinted into the sun. “That’s what I’d do, anyway. And judging from the looks of some of those cattle, he’s got some high-value herds here.”
“Of course.” Grinning, Fiona gestured at the expansive land, the stunning house, the quality fencing. “I mean, what do you expect for a Colton, right?”
He nodded. The Colton name had always been synonymous with luxury, the kind of lifestyle many in Mustang Valley wished they could emulate. Jake’s research had revealed the family was not only wealthy, but kind. They participated in numerous charities and quietly helped many who were less fortunate. The more he learned about them, the more he realized they were to be admired.
Driving slowly, he finally pulled up close to the house. In addition to the driveway, there were separate garages with their own parking areas. He decided to park his truck there. They could walk up to the house.
They got out of the truck. As she walked to him, Fiona gazed around her. “Just think,” she murmured, squeezing his shoulder. “If things had been different, you would have grown up here.”
He grimaced, refusing to acknowledge the ache her words caused inside him. Not just the ranch or the riches or even the Colton name, but the idea of family, people who would stand by your side no matter what. Something he’d never had and never believed he would. “Probably so. I can’t imagine. I’ve never seen a ranch like this.”
“I wonder if this is why you became a rancher. Maybe it runs in your blood.”
“That’s a very real possibility.” He didn’t let on that that, too, hurt him. He’d never known the truth of his past, his heritage, his family. Now at long last, he might finally get some glimpses of understanding of some of the factors that had contributed to making him the man he was today.
Side by side, they walked up to the front door, and he pressed the doorbell, wondering if there would be servants.
Ace himself answered the door, grinning. “Welcome,” he said, clapping Jake on the back.
“This is Fiona Evans,” Jake said. “Fiona, Ace Colton.”
She held out her hand, but Ace pulled her in for a hug instead. Eyes wide, she made a face at Jake over Ace’s shoulder, making him smile and breaking up some of the tension coiled inside him.
“Come on in,” Ace invited.
When they stepped into the foyer, a delicious smell drifted their way. Mexican food, Jake thought. His favorite.
As they walked inside, Fiona’s heels clicking on the wood-look tile floors, he caught sight of several people gathered in the kitchen. His heart jumped into his throat.
Some of his unease must have shown on his face.
“Relax,” Ace murmured. “It’s all good. Just my dad and my brothers and sisters, along with their significant others.” He gave a self-conscious laugh. “Correction, your brothers and sisters. I managed to get them all to come to dinner on short notice. Please understand, my father—your father—just got out of the hospital.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “He’s still a bit weak, though don’t let him know I said that. He prides himself on being strong.”
“I remember hearing about that,” Fiona interjected. “He was shot, wasn’t he? I’m so glad to hear he’s on the mend.”
Jake glanced at Ace. Payne had been shot and in a coma at the very same hospital where Jake and Ace had been switched at birth. Ace had actually been accused of shooting him after it was discovered he wasn’t Payne’s son. As Ace had told him, the real killer had been caught, but Ace had lost his job as CEO of Colton Oil since the company’s bylaws stated the company’s CEO had to be a biological Colton.
Enduring all of that must have been hell. Jake couldn’t help but admire Ace for making his way through it so well.
“Are you ready?” Ace asked. “They’re all eager to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Jake replied, pretending his stomach wasn’t clenched into knots. As if she knew, Fiona slipped her arm through his, offering her physical support.
Then the introductions started. An older man with silver hair moved slowly over, leaning on a cane. “Damn bandages,” he muttered. He stepped forward, his gaze intense as he shook Jake’s hand. This must be his father, Payne, with his latest wife, Genevieve, standing slightly behind him, her expression both concerned and friendly.
His father. Jake had never figured he’d even know his father’s name, never mind meet him. Wary, a bit uncertain, Jake eyed the older man, not sure what to say or how to act.
Before Jake and Payne could even exchange words, the older man enveloped Jake in a gruff, partial hug. “Sorry, I’m still a bit sore,” Payne said. “We’ve known about your existence a good while now, though we had no idea who you’d turn out to be. You don’t know how good it is to finally meet you.”
“Same here,” Jake replied.
Ace clapped both men on the back. “First we all got an anonymous email, letting us know I was switched with another infant in the hospital. Next, some guy named Jace Smith claimed to be the Colton baby that was switched.” Ace shook his head. “This must have infuriated Micheline, because she eventually waltzed into our office and announced she’d been the one to do it and she alone knew who was the missing Colton heir.”
Spoken without a single note of rancor or bitterness. Again, Jake couldn’t help but admire the man.
“I’m almost glad I was in a coma for most of this,” Payne said. When he raised his head to look into Jake’s face, Payne’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “She’s a piece of work, that Micheline. I wish you could have met Tessa,” he said, his voice breaking. “Your mother. You look so much like her. She died from lung cancer years ago, when all three of her children were young. She was kind, loved animals and had a big heart. She was an amateur photographer, always with the camera. Pretty damn good at it, too. She would have been thrilled to meet you.”
Colton's Last Stand Page 11
