Colton's Last Stand

by Karen Whiddon

  As expected, Fiona’s comment had Leigh narrowing her eyes. “Listen to you, Miss High and Mighty,” Leigh snarled. “I think you are getting way too big for your britches. Why would you even think Micheline would need to discuss anything with you personally?”

  Fiona blinked. While she’d expected a put-down, she hadn’t anticipated this level of vitriol. Despite that, she stuck to her guns. She could always quickly back down if things escalated too fast. “If what she wants me to do is important enough, I’d think she’d want to tell me herself.”

  “I’m her messenger.” Mouth tight, Leigh spoke angrily. “I can’t believe you of all people are acting like this. After all we’ve done for you.”

  How much to push? Fiona debated. She wanted to get on an inside track with Micheline, but she really couldn’t take the risk of alienating Leigh.

  “I’m really not trying to cause trouble,” Fiona responded, her tone conciliatory. “I just feel like these days Micheline is distancing herself from me—from us. When I first got here, I saw her a lot more. She coached me personally. Now, if she has anything to say to me, she has you do it. I miss her.”

  Leigh’s hard expression softened. She even got up and came around her desk to place her hand lightly on Fiona’s shoulder. “I get it, really I do. But Micheline is really busy. She’s even been communicating with me via email lately. I haven’t even seen much of her, and I’m her trusted employee.”

  Interesting. Email. “When was the last time you actually saw her in person?” Fiona asked.

  “Don’t worry about it.” One flip of her hand dismissed Fiona’s question as Leigh went back behind her desk and took a seat in her leather office chair. “Micheline has another job for you. When she finishes firming up the details, she’ll need it carried out right away.”

  Leigh took a deep breath, pausing as if for dramatic effect. “You should know, this plan involves the Coltons.”

  Instantly alert, Fiona nodded. “What about them?”

  “First, I need to ask you a possibly delicate question. Is there any chance you could be pregnant with Jake’s child?”

  Floored, Fiona simply stared. “Um, I don’t know. I guess.” Though she took her birth control pills religiously and Jake had used condoms, she supposed there was always a very small, remote chance. Unlikely, but still...

  “Perfect.” Beaming, Leigh fiddled with a stack of gold bracelets. “Micheline might need you to pretend to be pregnant.”

  “What?” Fiona felt sick again. Was there no end to the horrible things Micheline would ask her to do? “Would I have to tell Jake that, too?”

  “Of course. Even better if you can convince him to play along for a cut.”

  “A cut of what?” Fiona asked, though she suspected she already knew. Heaven help her if Micheline wanted to try to sell the Coltons a mythical baby.

  “Money. Duh.” Leigh rolled her eyes. “Micheline hasn’t unveiled the rest of her plan to me yet, but trust me when I say there will be lots of cash involved.”

  “Doesn’t that ever bother you?” Fiona asked. “All the emphasis on money? The purpose of the AAG is supposed to be helping people figure out how to be the best versions of themselves. I don’t understand why Micheline is so fixated on—” She almost said extorting people for cash, but stopped herself just in time.

  “It takes lots of money to keep this place running,” Leigh snapped. “Everything Micheline does is for the greater good. Everything.”

  Leigh’s fervent defense of a con woman seemed par for the course. Fiona figured Leigh didn’t even realize she was in a cult. Oddly enough, most of the people she encountered here shared the same lack of awareness. She found this both strange and unnerving, a testament to Micheline’s powers of persuasion.

  “Anyway,” Leigh continued. “For now I need you to simply convince Jake that you’re carrying his baby. We won’t do anything else until Micheline decides for sure what course of action to take.”

  No sure what else to do, Fiona nodded her agreement. This assignment just kept getting weirder and weirder—and more and more dangerous.

  Chapter 10

  Watching Fiona walk away, Jake hoped he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. She was beautiful, his Fiona. His? When had he started thinking of her that way? He didn’t know—didn’t actually care. Despite her declaration that she couldn’t do a serious relationship right now, he knew there would come a day when all the obstacles were gone. He understood that the way he felt about her was the sort of thing that only came along once in a lifetime. The trick would be to make her realize that, too.

  After all this was over.

  The intrigue, the drama, the danger that seemed to swirl around Micheline like a storm over the desert. He couldn’t wait to see her arrested, brought down. And hopefully before she hurt anyone else in the process.

  Remembering what Fiona had said about the door to the basement, he deliberately wandered over toward the kitchen, figuring he could claim hunger and the urge to find a snack as an excuse. But before he even made it halfway across the lobby, the beefy guy who acted as Micheline’s bodyguard intercepted him.

  “Micheline would like a word,” Bart said, his tone and aggressive stance indicating the subject wasn’t up for debate.

  Following the guy, Jake wondered why Micheline just didn’t simply have a meeting with everyone at the same time—him and Fiona and Leigh. Instead, she apparently had Leigh meeting with Fiona separately. He had to wonder why. Maybe she had some plan to pit them against each other. But of course, only if it benefited her.

  As he walked into her office, she greeted him with a huge smile. “I hear congratulations are in order,” she cooed.

  Since he had no idea what she might be referring to, he simply waited.

  “I’m surprised you’re not more excited,” she continued.

  Clearly, she was going to make him ask. “About what?”

  “Becoming a father!” The gleam in her eyes chilled him to the bone. “How thrilling!”

  Becoming a...what? Still trying to process her words, he didn’t immediately respond. Just stood staring at her, as if waiting for her to laugh and say, “Just kidding.”

  Except she didn’t.

  Her smile faded. “Oh dear. You didn’t know.”

  He hid the rough flash of anger. Though he was 99 percent sure Micheline was acting out another one of her scams, he decided to play along. “You mean Fiona? She can’t be pregnant. She’d tell me if she was.”

  Micheline’s smug expression had him gritting his teeth. “She’s afraid. That’s why she hasn’t said anything to you. She’s meeting with Leigh right now to discuss her options.”

  Sure she was. More likely getting her script from Leigh as to how they wanted her to play along. Games. Micheline always had several balls in the air at once.

  He needed to become better at playing this game. Still, it had only been a few days since he and Fiona had slept together. There’s no way she or anyone else could know whether she was pregnant yet.

  “It had to be someone else,” he said, proceeding to outline his reasoning. Micheline watched him closely, the gleam in her eyes letting him know she had expected this reaction. How could she not have, with the statistical impossibility of the scenario she’d mentioned?

  “Most likely.” Micheline shrugged. “Does that matter to you? Are you going to dump this poor, homeless woman and let her fend for herself?”

  “Maybe.” He crossed his arms, aware he’d be more believable if he stuck to his guns.

  “Very well.” The malice in Micheline’s smile chilled his blood. “I’m guessing you’re more like me than either of us realized.”

  A statement which she damn well knew would virtually guarantee to make him do the opposite.

  “Damn.” Walking over to the couch, he allowed himself to drop down and sit. Covering his face w
ith both hands, he thought furiously, trying to figure out how he should react. “You know I’d never abandon her. But why wouldn’t she come to me first?” he asked, his voice breaking. “She knows how I feel about her.”

  “And how is that?” Micheline’s tone sounded cool and disinterested, even though he knew damn well she wasn’t.

  Hell, he didn’t know how Fiona did this. He already felt queasy, and now he was actually going to bare his soul to one of the most narcissistic women on the planet. “I’m falling in love with her.”

  “You are?” Yep, that was pure glee. She didn’t even bother to keep that particular emotion in check. “Then I know you’ll want to do the right thing for her.”

  Slowly, he raised his head. “Which is?” Was she going to insist he marry Fiona?

  “Help her find the baby the best home.”

  Though he should have known better, disappointment flooded him. For all of three seconds. “Oh? You don’t want me to marry Fiona and promise to support our baby?”

  The incredulous look she gave him let him know how far off base she believed he’d gone. “Of course not. Your child could have all the luxuries in life that you missed out on.”

  Though warning bells—hell, sirens—were blaring inside his head, he kept his face expressionless. “Do go on.”

  “He or she should be brought up among the wealthy, the cultured. People of his own blood.”

  He stared at her, hard. Hoping at least a hint of his revulsion leaked through in his glare. “You want to give my child to the Coltons.” A statement rather than a question.

  She laughed. Micheline actually laughed, causing him to grind his teeth and clench his jaw as well as his fists. “Not give,” she said, shaking her head. “More like sell.”

  Sell. What the actual... He could only imagine what Leigh and Fiona were now discussing. A fake pregnancy, along with a completely illegal and unethical and just plain despicable act: selling a baby that didn’t even exist to his family!

  Worse, he knew Fiona would want him to pretend to go along with it. But he suspected Micheline would know something was up if he did. She understood him at least that well.

  “Why would you do that?” he asked, hoping he sounded reasonable. “The Coltons are my actual family. Any child born from my blood is already theirs. Why would you think they’d be willing to pay you anything?”

  If she noticed the emphasis he put on the word you, she didn’t react. “Because if they don’t pay, I’ll make sure the child will disappear.”

  Horrified, he didn’t even try to hide it. “You’d kill my baby?” he demanded.

  She held up both hands. “I didn’t say that. The decision will ultimately be up to Fiona. She might decide to give the baby up for adoption.”

  Fictional, he reminded himself. There actually wasn’t a baby. Yet. Maybe never.

  “Or keep it,” he growled. “Fiona would make a damn good mother. Jeez, Micheline. You never change.”

  His disparaging comment didn’t appear to faze her. “I am consistent,” she agreed proudly. “Plus, you need to understand where Fiona is in her life. She’s only been here less than a month. We picked her up homeless, living in the streets. She has become part of our family here at AAG.”

  About to storm out, he remembered—just barely—that he had a role to play, so he restrained himself. “I want to talk to Fiona first,” he said. “Since this is our child, the decision really should be between the two of us first.”

  Her smug smile told him she believed she had Fiona in her back pocket. “Of course. Take your time. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

  As soon as he left her office, he went in search of Fiona. He saw her in the lobby, helping one of the elderly AAG members get settled with a book.

  “Do you have a moment?” he asked, keeping his tone polite. “To take a short walk outside?”

  Gaze searching his face, she nodded. “Are you comfortable?” she asked the old woman, pulling up the light blanket and tucking it in around her waist.

  “Fine, dear. You go for a walk with your nice young man.”

  Fiona blushed but she didn’t correct her. “Let’s go,” she told Jake. “I can’t stay long. I’ve got a few more tasks I need to handle here at the center.”

  Though he could barely contain his impatience, he managed to wait until they were out the door, down the porch steps and halfway down the driveway.

  “Is there something you forgot to tell me?” he asked, his voice harsh. “I met with Micheline just now. She said you were talking to Leigh.”

  “About the pretend baby?” Though she spoke without inflection, pain and anger flashed in her eyes. “And Micheline’s strange scheme to sell him or her to the Coltons?”

  “Exactly!” He expelled his breath in a sigh, hoping to release some of his tangled-up emotions. “This is a new low, even for someone like her.”

  “I agree.” Her calm voice acted like a balm upon his rage. “Of all the things I’ve had to do while here, this is the absolute worst.”

  “Because who would do that? Who would actually sell their own child?” He realized part of the reason this bothered him so much was due to his own circumstances. Micheline had switched him with another baby and actually hoped he would die.

  “You do know the baby isn’t real, right?” Fiona asked, touching his arm. “I’m not actually pregnant.”

  He blinked. “I know.”

  “Do you? Because you sound uncertain.”

  Considering, he finally nodded. “Probably because Micheline talked like you really were. In fact, I’m pretty sure her henchwoman Leigh probably told you to lie to me and say you really are pregnant.”

  “She did at first, but then she kind of left it open. She even mentioned offering you a cut of whatever they rake in.”

  He didn’t bother to hide the disgust that filled him. “More proof that Micheline never really knew me. Because if she had even the slightest clue who I am, she’d know I’d never abandon my child the way she did me.”

  “Come here,” she said. “Right now.” And she tugged him into her arms, holding him tight.

  Just like that, all the frustration and impotent rage drained away.

  “You can do this,” she continued, her arms still wrapped around him. “We can do this. Just think of the end result.”

  Micheline behind bars. “You’re right,” he said, raising his head. “I guess I let emotion get the better of me. She’s such a—”

  Fiona kissed him then, midsentence, midbreath. Kissed him as if she were dying and he might be her last hope for survival.

  After a moment, he relaxed enough to kiss her back. This woman, he thought, even as he drowned in sensation. The scent of her, the feel of her, the taste of her filled him with both yearning and the certainty that she was the one. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

  * * *

  With Micheline plotting and scheming, Fiona had a suspicion that events might occur along an accelerated timetable. Which meant if she was going to locate these cells or whatever might really be in the basement, she needed to do it quickly. She hadn’t seen Underhill either, so either he’d been dismissed or Micheline had locked him up.

  If the inner door remained locked, then she had to locate the key. She decided to stake out the laundry room. Eventually, someone had to go into the basement. She’d watch from there and see. Most likely, whoever had basement duty would have been given the key for their shift, but she also wouldn’t have been surprised to see they stashed it somewhere close to keep things simple. After all, they’d probably figure no one would want to break in to the basement, only out.

  Luckily, even though the center had maids who picked up the laundry every week, Fiona had enough clothes to pretend to be doing her own laundry. While she felt quite certain this would be frowned upon, at least she’d have a credible excuse if anyone ca
ught her. She bundled them up and stuffed them in a large tote, hoping this would help keep them hidden from view, and trudged downstairs, through the lobby and past the kitchen to the laundry room.

  She’d finished her first load and moved it to the dryer when she heard male voices coming down the hall. Two of them, and it sounded like they were arguing. She moved to the dryer closest to the doorway and bent over to shuffle around her clothes inside it, hoping that way she’d be mostly hidden.

  “It’s your turn to sleep down there,” one of the men said. “I had that duty all of last week, and I did it.”

  “I really don’t want to,” the other guy replied. “After the lights go out, it’s creepy as hell.”

  “Then leave them on.”

  “I tried that. It’s still creepy down there.”

  “Tough.” A rattle of metal, like a full key chain.

  Fiona took a chance and raised up enough to peer around the doorway. Both men had their backs to her now. One big man, with close-shaven hair and broad shoulders. The other held a large key chain and appeared to be trying to extract one of the keys from it.

  “I need to give you this,” he said. “It’s impossible to get off this thing.”

  “Keep it. Harley told me a couple of weeks ago where he kept a spare key hidden.”

  “Out here?” Man Number One sounded outraged. “Why would he do something so stupid? Those brainy types never have any common sense.”

  “No, not out here,” Number Two replied. “In the laundry room. No one would think to look there.”

  Fiona’s heart stopped. Damn it. She glanced around. No place to hide. If they came in here to retrieve the key, she was busted.

  On the other hand, she’d know where the key had been stashed.

  Holding her breath, she braced herself for the two men to appear. Luckily, she had her laundry, so she continued to slowly place one wet clothing item at a time into the dryer.