“Of course. Come right this way. Chet is about to speak, and then I’ll introduce you. He can’t wait to meet you.”
Abby put her hand to her chest. “Me? Why would he want to meet me?”
“Chet is just as passionate about providing relief to the ocean as you are. He loves talking about it. When I told him I met you, he wanted to meet the woman that shares his passion.”
After he looked her up and saw her net worth, Abby thought as she walked into the living room off the back patio. The wall was comprised of one long sliding door that opened the entire living room to the outdoor pool area.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Chet Pottinger said from where he stood up by the front door of his mansion. It was about three steps up from the sunken living room and allowed him to stand above his audience even though he couldn’t be more than her five-foot-seven inches in height. The crowd quieted and gave him their full attention. Abby scanned the crowd so the hidden camera in her large dangly earrings could pick up all the faces.
“Thank you so much for coming here tonight. This relief fund has become an overriding passion for me as Earth Savior, and I am so thankful you share in my desire to save the world from hunger, disease, pollution, and from itself. We are the enlightened ones who see the problems and want to fix them. And now we have a way to do so through my desires. With Relief for the Earth Fund, we can begin saving the world,” Chet said proudly, yet with a touch of humility.
Abby clapped. His performance was top notch.
“If you are not serious about putting your money where your heart is, simply enjoy the party. Drink the champagne, swim in the pool, and go home and don’t think twice about it. But if you truly want to do good, to be good, to be a hero to the world, fill out a membership packet. To join it’s a one-time donation of fifty thousand dollars. Then there are only two simple requirements to become an apostle of the earth. One, increase your donation to whatever area of relief you want to support every year. It can be one dollar or one million. The point is to always be striving toward greatness. And two, to find five people each year to become members who are as enlightened and passionate about being a savior as you. With just a small start like that, we can change the world.”
People clapped and Abby looked around at the smiling faces. They were drinking it up. But so far she hadn’t heard anything other than a pyramid scheme. She was sure the donations would be made to the so-called relief funds, right after Chet took a hefty cut.
Chet quieted the group. “Enjoy yourselves, and if you’re so inclined to be a hero to the world, you will find a membership packet with Lemon over to my right. I look forward to meeting you all tonight and thank you for being one of the few people to finally take action to save our great earth.”
There was clapping again as a surge of people headed toward the yellow-blonde haired Lemon and her assistants. She looked Lemon over and recognized her as a B-level horror actress. She was in a huge horror movie the previous fall but had only been credited as “naked woman murdered in hot tub.”
“Chet,” Bing said as he lifted up his hand to signal the leader. “I want you to meet someone.”
Abby smiled as Chet walked down the three steps into the living room and watched as the crowd parted for him. He stopped in front of Abby, and sure enough, he wasn’t as tall as she was. Abby had to look an inch or so down at him, but that didn’t stop him from holding himself as if he were seven feet tall. He had confidence and yet also an air of empathy around him she knew was fake. She’d read his police reports and the confidence was real, the empathy was not.
“This must be the countess,” Chet said as he grabbed Abby’s hand and bowed over it.
“Oh no, please don’t. It’s I who should be bowing to you for all the good you’re doing.”
Chet raised his eyes to her, and she couldn’t help but smile at him. Chet had more charisma in his little finger than she had in her whole body, and he knew it. “Do you think you are devoted in your passion to help the earth enough to join my little group? We may be small in number but we’re mighty in our desire to save the world.”
Abby nodded her head. “Yes. I was going to sign up once the table cleared a little.” Abby looked around the house. “This is beautiful. It reminds me of my estate in Bermalia, except for the ocean. That’s how I developed my love for the ocean. My family would travel to one of the estates we have on the coast. I was so in awe of the power of the ocean after growing up in the desert.”
“But the desert has many beauties of its own,” Chet said as he gently pulled her hand toward him and tucked it in his arm. “Let me show you around.”
“Really? I’d love that.”
Chet talked of the moment he realized he was destined to help the world instead of hurting it as he walked her around the mansion. Abby looked for any secret rooms, any signs of people in distress, but found none until she approached Lemon. Lemon wasn’t in distress. She was completely under Chet’s spell.
Chet raised Abby’s hand to kiss it and Lemon had a look on her face that told Abby everything she needed to know. This was a cult. The only question was what kind. “Thank you for the tour. It was beautiful and our conversation enlightening.”
“I am so very glad you can join us in our quest,” Chet said with a smile that looked charming to everyone around them but gave Abby the heebie-jeebies. “Lemon, give the countess the information on the Heroine of the Earth group.”
“Yes, Chet,” Lemon said with a small bow of her head. “You are very lucky,” Lemon said once Chet left.
“How so?” Abby asked as she took the paperwork Lemon handed her.
“Only those women Chet believes can make the most impact in saving the world are invited to join. There’s the Heroines of the Earth and Heroes of the Earth groups. You have to prove your loyalty to the relief fund or have the same drive to save the world as Chet to be invited,” Lemon explained as she brought out a gold envelope from under the desk.
Abby took it and opened it. Inside was a letter from Chet that would make anyone feel as if they were the most important person in the world, along with a card authorizing Chet the use of a joint checking account that you agreed to place five million dollars in to be used for the sole purpose of providing relief to those in need.
“Chet is something else, isn’t he?” Abby asked Lemon with what she hoped was enough reverence in her voice.
“He’s the greatest. My career has taken off since I pledged my loyalty to him. He said by doing good deeds, the earth will reward us. And it has. I’m going to be Stephanie in the next horror franchise coming out. I even get three lines.”
“Are you part of the Heroines?”
Lemon nodded and leaned forward. “I don’t have the five million, but Chet handpicked me to join because of my enthusiasm. I can’t wait to call you sister. That’s what we are, the Heroines. We’re sisters of the earth.”
Abby smiled sweetly as warning bells sounded. Cult, yes. Dangerous, unknown. “What kind of things will we get to do as sisters?”
“We have the privilege of hosting fund-raisers with some of the world’s most powerful men. It was at one of these events I met the director who got me the role of Stephanie. And I’ve also brought in over thirty people to the fund. It was my dedication and willingness to do anything that got Chet’s notice.”
“What do those powerful men talk about?” Abby asked as she filled out the paperwork. “I don’t know if I would be good at hosting them.”
“Which governments support the relief efforts and which don’t. Who we needed to make deals with to get supplies and such. You know, important things like that.”
“Hmm,” Abby agreed as her mind turned. “As soon-to-be sisters, would you like to join me tomorrow at the resort before I head for the States?”
“I’m sure Lemon would love to,” Chet said from behind her. Years of training was the only thing that prevented Abby from jumping. “But Lemon will be needed for a meeting here tomorrow. She’s the best hos
tess I have, as you can tell.”
Abby turned with a kind smile on her face. “I can, which is why I desired her company. But I am sure I will get to talk to her in the future. Maybe when I come back for my next visit to Costa Rica.”
“You head for the States tomorrow? Maybe you can find your first member to join us over the holidays,” Chet said, and Abby felt as if this was a test.
“It’s exactly what was on my mind. I was hoping Lemon could give me some pointers and maybe some packets.”
“Of course.” With a flick of Chet’s eyes, Lemon started putting together some packets for her. “I look forward to hearing how it goes. I’ll call you after the holidays, and maybe we can get to know each other better.”
“I’d like that, “Abby said before turning to Chet. “I look forward to all we can accomplish.” She knew when not to push it, and she’d gotten all the information she was going to get right then.
When Abby left, she left behind several bugs, along with five million dollars. Now the CIA could monitor Chet, and no one would be the wiser.
3
Christmas Day, Keeneston, Kentucky . . .
* * *
“Dad,” Abby said, holding her hands as if giving up.
“What?” her father, international badass Ahmed, asked.
“Are you seriously going to pass out presents with Nemi in a baby sling?” she asked as her father patted the head of Nemesis, or Nemi for short. The puppy’s rust-colored head stuck out from the baby sling that wrapped around her father’s shoulder, down his back, and the up and around his chest. The puppy was closing in on six months and was all legs and roly-poly skin. You’d think the lithe hunting dog was just a spoiled lap dog, but her father was already training her to be as big of a badass as he was. Well, when he stopped carrying her around like a baby that was.
“I’m parachute training her,” her father said defensively as he pulled out a tiny pair of goggles and put them over Nemi’s face. “See?” he asked as he climbed onto the couch and said, “Jump!” before he jumped off. “Good girl. That’s Daddy’s brave girl.”
Abby heard the dog’s tail thump against the sling as she licked Ahmed’s chin.
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t do that with us,” Kale, Abby’s younger brother, whispered as they both snickered. Her father was completely gaga about his little puppy. Goodness knows what he’d do with a grandchild. Abby froze as she took the gift Kale handed her. She wasn’t likely to find out either. Her father might spoil his puppy, but he’d made it known he’d been saving a special kind of torture for any man she brought home.
Not that her lifestyle allowed her time for a relationship. The last serious relationship where she actually called someone her boyfriend had had been with Nolan Flynn in high school. The rest had been anything but serious. What did you expect when your father spied on your date with a drone? And not just any drone, but an armed one.
“They’re doing some parachute training next week at the academy,” her mom told her. “The trainees think they’re getting off light when they see the puppy, but then your father delights in scaring them to death.”
Abby and Kale smiled at that. “I’m glad Dad enjoys teaching,” Kale said as he ripped into his gift with the exuberance of a twelve-year-old even though he was twenty-three.
“So, the academy is doing well?” Abby asked her father and mother. Four of the five Davies brothers, Miles, Marshall, Cade, and Cy, along with Abby’s parents, and her friend Layne Davies Greene’s husband, Walker, who was Miles’s son-in-law, had started a military and law enforcement training center. It was much like the CIA one Abby had gone to, but focused on a wider range of training. They had hosted a center opening a few weeks back as a small set of trainees had gone through it and provided feedback.
“It’ll start in earnest in a couple weeks, but the response from the test group is very promising. It was mostly friends of friends—military higher-ups, FBI heads, then some newbies, and a couple guys that Walker knew from the SEALs and DEVGRU. We wanted a sampling of experienced to novice to see what they thought of it,” her father answered.
“Don’t be modest, dear,” Bridget said with a shake of her head. “It went so well we’re booking out to July already.”
“That’s great! I might have to take a class sometime,” Abby said as she smiled at her parents.
Her mother rolled her eyes. They knew she claimed to be in personal security, but they also knew better than to ask any questions. After all, they’d been contacted and interviewed when she’d received top-secret clearance. What private bodyguard needed top secret clearance?
“Sure! When you have some time off you can take my close-combat class. Show those Rangers a thing or two,” her father said as he winked at her. They shared a snicker at the idea of these big tough guys trying to go easy on her while she took them down in seconds. After all, she was her father’s daughter.
Her mother stood up and brushed tissue paper and torn bits of wrapping paper from her red flannel pajamas with machine guns printed on them. “This has been lovely. Thank you for everything. But we need to get over to Dani and Mo’s for brunch.”
Abby looked down at her phone. No new messages. She’d applied for vacation until January 2nd, but in her line of work, you never knew if you’d be called up. After reporting her findings to President Stratton, she’d flown home and enjoyed the time off. All of her friends were back in town, and she’d even gotten in plenty of snuggles with Baby Ash, the infant son of her friends Ryan and Sienna. Luckily she got them in early because she knew she’d never get her hands on that cute little baby now. Not when his grandparents, Will, Kenna, Cole, and Paige, were at the party. And that wasn’t counting the massive number of aunts, uncles, and cousins.
Abby got dressed in jeans and a winter-blue sweater. In twenty minutes, they were all loaded into the SUV and driving the short distance through Desert Sun Farm. The farm was owned by Mo and Dani Ali Rahman. Or, as outsiders called them, Prince and Princess Ali Rahman. After Abby’s father had retired as Mo’s head of security, Ahmed and he had become partners in the horse farm Mo owned. And while Mo had been the heir to the Rahmi throne, he had stepped aside to assure that he stayed in Keeneston. His oldest twin son, Zain, had been named the backup heir. Zain had been beyond relieved when his cousin and his wife had finally gotten pregnant, pushing Zain to third in line.
Her father stopped at the front door of the large white mansion surrounded by the rolling hills of Kentucky and black four board plank fences. Horses romped in the cold weather as the green grass was tipped with the remnants from the previous night’s frost. The front door opened as Zain and his twin, Gabe, smiled out at them.
“About time you got here,” Gabe teased. The twins were practically identical. Both tall with slightly tanned skin and dark hair. But Gabe was the laid-back twin, evident from his jeans and long-sleeved thermal shirt. Zain, the diplomat, was also in jeans but wore a starched buttoned-up shirt.
“I am never late,” her father stated as he opened the trunk of the SUV for Nemi to leap down.
“Of course not, but Mom’s crying,” Gabe said as Bridget threw her handful of gifts to Kale and rushed inside.
“What did you do now?” Abby asked as they climbed the stairs to the front door.
“Me? I’m an angel.” Gabe grinned as Zain shook his head. Gabe had been the complete opposite of an angel until his wife, Sloane, entered the picture.
“Oh crap, Sloane didn’t file for divorce, did she?” Abby asked as her smirk slid.
“No!” Gabe looked insulted. “I’m the perfect husband.”
“I can attest to that,” Sloane said as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. “They’re in the family room.”
Zain took the packages from her and walked ahead. Abby knew the house by heart. She’d grown up as one of the family. She had roughhoused with Zain and Gabe and played dolls with their younger sister, Ariana. Since her parents and their parents were best friends, the
y’d spent a ton of time there. She knew every secret panel, every hiding place, and even where their chef hid the best chocolate. And later, she learned where Mo hid his best bourbon.
Upon entering the family room, Abby saw her mom looking worriedly at Dani, who was wiping her eyes with a tissue. Mo had his back turned as he poured glasses of bourbon. Ariana was clasping her hand with her sister-in-law Mila as Zain set down the packages.
“What’s the matter?” Abby asked Mila as she rushed toward Zain’s wife. Zain and Mila had been trying to get pregnant, but had almost given up. It had come as a relief to them when Zain’s cousin and heir to the Rahmi crown, Jamal, announced his wife was pregnant. Abby prayed Mila hadn’t suffered a miscarriage as she gripped her friend’s hands.
“We received this,” Dani said as she sniffled. She handed Bridget an envelope. Abby strode over ready to do battle with whatever was inside. Her father similarly moved behind Bridget to see what was inside.
Abby’s mother slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the black and white image from inside. Abby sucked in a breath as she scanned it. The name on top was Mila’s. Bridget dropped the envelope and let out a squeal. “A baby!”
“Oh,” Abby heard her father whisper, “I thought it was a little alien.”
“Congratulations!” Abby said, trying to hide the laugh from what her father had whispered. She wrapped her arms around Zain and then Mila as Dani burst into tears again. Mo finally turned around with a huge smile on his face as he began to hand out drinks.
“To my grandchild!”
The house was full of laughter and love. Everyone had eaten and exchanged gifts. Now they were just enjoying each other’s company. Brunch and a gift exchange were always a tradition for the Ali Rahmans, the Mueezes, and the entire Davies family. At one o’clock the doors opened and the rest of Keeneston was invited in for some eggnog and Christmas cheer.
Forever Notorious Page 3