Hidden (Deep Ops #1)

by Rebecca Zanetti

  She tilted her head, studying him. Her heart hurt for the boy he must’ve been. “I see.”

  He nodded. “I wanted to be the one in charge. So I went to college and then started working for the government. Nobody would ever move me around again.” His tone remained level, but his eyes were stark.

  “What about your sister?” she asked.

  He leaned back. His voice softened. “She passed away over five years ago.” Then he shook his head. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her chest hitched.

  He smiled, the sight a little sad. “You didn’t know.” He cleared his throat. “So. What about you? Any family?”

  “No,” she said instantly. “No family.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Sounds . . . bad.”

  She forced a smile. The one she’d learned so long ago. “My dad was in the army, and he died in combat. I’m pretty sure. They never told us the details.” She cleared her throat, unable to talk about her mother. The website said she had cancer. It would be a jinx to say it. “I left home at eighteen and haven’t talked to my mother since. I don’t even know where she is.” Her gaze dropped to the sleeping dog. Oh, to be so peaceful.

  Angus chuckled. “The two of us are just a barrel of fun, right?”

  She looked up, startled. Humor glided through her. “Geez. No kidding.” She glanced outside. It was starting to get dark. “Um, seen any good movies lately?”

  Angus smiled. “Good topic. That or the weather.”

  They chatted then about good topics. Movies, spring flowers, birds. He had a surprising knowledge of the local bird population. Finally, his phone buzzed. He glanced down to read the screen and then sighed.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  He nodded, an apology in his gaze. “Yeah. Malcolm and I have both been called in.” He held up a hand. “Nothing to worry about, I promise. Our job isn’t dangerous, but I’m afraid he won’t be home until late.”

  Disappointment felt like a pinprick to a balloon. She’d finally decided to level with the guy, and she couldn’t get him in the room. She forced a smile. “I understand.”

  Angus stood. “Thank you for the tea and biscuits. It was nice to get a chance to talk.”

  Her smile felt genuine this time. “I agree. Thank you for staying.” She meant every word.

  The dog gave her a smile as he left, following Angus. They were both so disarming. Chatting with Angus had been like talking to an old friend.

  Why that suddenly made her uneasy, she’d never know. She shook her head at herself. This being so paranoid had to stop.

  It just had to.

  Yeah. She could be a normal person with a maybe boyfriend next door. So she scrawled a quick note for him, saying that he should wake her no matter how late he got home. It was time they talked.

  After leaving the note taped to his front door, she hustled back to her house to clean up. She could safely leave the door unlocked. If the family found her, locks wouldn’t stop them. And it was silly to think a random burglar would find her house. So she stared at the locked door for a few minutes.

  Her body wouldn’t move.

  Well, okay. Mal could knock. There was no reason she couldn’t get up and unlock the door for him.

  She sighed.

  Maybe the locks she’d put on her life needed to be disengaged one at a time. She wasn’t ready for that yet.

  Hopefully, someday she would be.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Malcolm spent all day and long into the night being groomed by the family. First there was the tour through the gardens, where community health was emphasized. All the women were braless in linen and very friendly. Even the men—the ones he met—seemed kind and welcoming. A sense of acceptance was everywhere, and the members were of all ages, races, and nationalities.

  He was made to feel needed and wanted.

  Not once did he see Orchid, Angus’s informant, but that wasn’t a concern yet. He couldn’t very well ask to see her because they’d never met.

  After the gardens, he joined meditation for an hour. Rhythmic music, a short chant, and everyone saying the same words. It was as close to hypnotism as possible without being such. Nari had warned him of it, and damn, she was right.

  Then he was asked to give self-defense classes. First to a bunch of really cute, earnest kids. Then teenagers. Then a group of young men.

  Finally, women aged eighteen to forty. They were very touchy-feely and in awe of him. If he hadn’t been a cynical ex-cop with control issues, he might’ve fallen right into the trap.

  It felt good to be needed and admired.

  They kept him so busy, it was around suppertime when he realized he hadn’t eaten all day. Ah. Food and sleep. Those pesky things that altered brain chemistry.

  During his tasks, he memorized the layout of the place and the scheduled comings and goings of people.

  After self-defense classes, he attended another round of meditation. This time the music was louder and the chants more intense.

  When he was finished, April met him at the door. “Hi.” She ran her hand suggestively down his arm. Her hair was now up in the ponytail, making her look even younger than her twenty years. Her skin had pinkened from her time gardening. “I heard you’ve done a wonderful job today.”

  “It’s a peaceful place.” His head was a little light, and he had to concentrate to focus.

  She grasped his hand and pulled him toward the outside patio. “We’re about to have evening meal, and I was hoping you’d sit by me.”

  Millicent had disappeared earlier, after he’d rebuffed a couple of her not-so-subtle advances, so he’d figured he’d see April again. He feigned surprise. “Man, I am hungry. I forgot to eat all day.”

  She giggled, the sound tinkly and young. So young. “That happens all the time to me. It just means you’re doing the Prophet’s work. You’re fulfilling yourself and being who you’re meant to be.” Approval was in her admiring gaze. “You’re amazing, Malcolm.”

  Man, they poured it on thick. But the girl was earnest. Guilt caught him for a moment, but he had to play along to help her. This was a long game.

  They walked outside to where a sprawling table ran beneath a wide awning protected from the weather. April sat him right smack-dab in the middle of a lot of smiling faces and linen clothing.

  The food was plentiful, but nobody moved to fill their plates. So neither did Malcolm. Look at him, already conforming with the group. The tactics were effective, because he knew not to swipe a roll yet. Wouldn’t even dream of it.

  Isaac Leon strode out of a side door to the head of the table.

  The energy around the table rose.

  “My family.” Isaac looked down each row, as if acknowledging each and every one of them. “It has been a worthy day for all of us. You are to be commended, and you are loved.”

  The guy all but dripped charisma. He wore white linen, slightly setting him apart from the rest. And his hair curled around his ears, making him seem earnest and caring. Mal looked around for the four guys he’d identified as Isaac’s enforcers, but they were nowhere to be seen. They didn’t seem to mix much with the rest of the group.

  Unless they wanted to cleanse. He’d gotten that much out of April earlier. They were all in for sex, and a woman’s refusing was frowned upon. The family was meant to serve each other, after all.

  Isaac continued to speak, and although the group was no doubt hungry, nobody even glanced at the food. All eyes and attention remained on him.

  Finally, he gave them sustenance. “My loves. Please eat.” He sat and waited for a dark-haired woman next to him to dish him up a plate. She was stunning. Long, black, curly hair, deep brown eyes, a light smattering of freckles across her darker skin. She could be anywhere from eighteen to thirty, with no signs of age.

  Mal looked around. April served him salad, a roll, and chicken casserole.

  Where were the drugs? They could be in anything. So he ate the roll
and worked on the chicken. His guess was the salad dressing. Or maybe in his glass of water. But he had to eat something, so he tried to be careful.

  The meal was finished when Isaac stood up, whether people had cleaned their plates or not. The second he stood, so did everyone else.

  Malcolm did so naturally. Wow. This unobvious cult shit was impressive. He’d automatically followed the group. Interesting. Then everyone bowed their heads. All righty. He did the same. His body relaxed, and a sense of euphoria wandered through his veins as Isaac said another blessing.

  Mal swayed just a little. Damn it. Somehow, he’d gotten the drug. He should be pissed, but his body was too mellow. His mind too calm.

  “Malcolm,” Isaac said, his voice a low hum. “Would you please join me in my office? I would like to talk.”

  April patted his hand as if in support and excitement. She really was a sweetheart.

  Mal moved away from the table and walked to meet Isaac. Okay. He’d been drugged. Knowing the fact gave him some power over the situation. And he’d taken just enough to be mellow and not pass out, so they didn’t want him incapacitated.

  Isaac led the way across the veranda and into the side door, which turned out to be his office. Mal studied the place again. Small table over by a bookshelf, sprawling desk flanked by a couple of leather chairs, and two bigger chairs and sofa over by a roaring fireplace. He let himself trip and almost went down, catching himself and grabbing the bug out of his sock.

  “Whoa.” Isaac grasped his arm and helped him get steady. “Are you all right, my brother?”

  “Yes. Sorry about that. Just a little off balance.” Mal slid the bug beneath the edge of the desk as they moved by it to take the chairs by the crackling fireplace.

  Isaac also sat, leaning toward Mal. “Sometimes the pain in our lives can take away our mental acuity.” His voice was soothing. Calm. “You’ve been drinking a lot. Trying to banish those demons from your time on the police force.”

  Mal nodded. “That would be the truth.”

  Isaac stood and moved to a cabinet in the wall, opening a slot to reveal a full bar. He poured two very generous glasses of Scotch and returned to hand one to Malcolm. “Alcohol isn’t the problem. It’s why we drink that matters.”

  So drugs plus booze. The hard sell was happening. Even so, Mal took a deep drink of the expensive elixir. It was like coming home.

  The door opened, and three men strode inside. They wore the customary light-colored linen clothing, but two of them had guns strapped to their thighs.

  Mal felt like he should tense, but his body was too relaxed. “Why are they armed?”

  Isaac sighed, his brown eyes sorrowful. “We have to protect our family. There are people out there who threaten us and our way of life. Can you imagine that?”

  Mal took another drink. “From the outside, you look like a cult.”

  Isaac’s dark eyebrow arched, and his lips curved. “What do you think?”

  Oh, definitely a cult. “It seems like a lot of people just trying to live, if you ask me,” Mal said, sipping more of his drink. “I wasn’t sure at first because of all the light clothing and everyone seeming so happy.”

  “Being happy is wrong?” Isaac asked.

  “Just unusual,” Mal said honestly.

  “What changed your mind?” Isaac took a sip of his drink.

  Mal partially turned to eye the guys with the guns. “The self-defense classes and the guns. Neither of those go with cults. People here are encouraged to take care of themselves, even if it means engaging in violence. That’s not like a cult.” He shrugged. “As far as I know.”

  Isaac studied him, his gaze shrewd. “Is that all?”

  Mal met his gaze directly and then shrugged again. “I don’t know. Part of me just doesn’t give a shit anymore anyway. You know?”

  “I truly do.” Isaac nodded to the closest armed man. The guy was about six feet tall, bald, and scarred. “Leroy was a soldier for years and nearly got blown up. When he came to the family, he wanted to die.”

  Leroy nodded, not much expression in his dark eyes. “That’s true. The family saved me.”

  Isaac smiled as if in approval. “Do you men need me?”

  “No,” Leroy said. “Just wanted to report in that we’ve scouted the entire acreage, and the fences are going up nicely. We should be better protected soon.”

  “Good. Let’s meet in a couple of hours,” Isaac said. “Before you go, Malcolm, please meet Eagle and George. These men help me protect the family.”

  Mal nodded as the other two did the same. Eagle and George? Who came up with the names around here? Something told him that Leroy and George had gotten to keep their original names. What kind of pain and baggage had come with them? Why didn’t Leroy or George get new names and fresh beginnings? It seemed Isaac knew exactly how to push buttons with each member.

  The men left.

  Mal rubbed his eyes.

  “You look tired. Would you like to stay the night tonight?” Isaac asked. “I know April would enjoy your company.”

  Mal kept his expression bland. “I would, but I have a teleconference with my old boss in the NYPD tomorrow about wrapping up my last case. If I missed it, he’d be on my doorstep in minutes.” Yeah. No way would Isaac want that happening.

  “Our duty always comes first.” Isaac leaned forward. “After that discussion, are you finished with your case?”

  “Yes. Everyone has pled out, and they just need my final statement.” Mal sighed, as if relieved. Which he kind of was. “Then I’m out. No more going undercover and pretending to be somebody I’m not. It’s been so long, I’m not even sure who I really am.”

  “This could be a place for you to figure that out.” The guy really did have a soothing voice.

  Mal looked around. “I don’t know. I’m not much for gardening and meditating all day.”

  “Meditation is important, but gardening, not so much.” Isaac shared a smile. “I think with your background, you’d be vital in other areas.”

  Mal finished his drink. “Like what?”

  “All in good time.” Isaac stood, grasped the bottle, and returned to refill Mal’s glass.

  “Does my involvement come with April?” Mal let his voice slur just a little, as if his guard was coming down. It was easier than he thought. How drugged was he?

  Isaac chuckled. “That’s up to April. But she does seem to like you, and she can be very generous with her ... time.”

  A timid knock barely sounded on the door.

  “Enter,” Isaac murmured.

  A woman walked in, and it took a second for Malcolm to place her. He recognized Pippa’s mother from those early photographs. Blond hair and the same blue eyes. His heart rate tried to speed up, but the drugs kept him nice and calm.

  “I’m so sorry for interrupting.” The woman had to be around forty-five. Beautiful and fragile-looking. Was she ill? “Mrs. Thomson is talking about returning to her husband, and I thought perhaps you’d like some time with her.”

  Isaac sadly shook his head. “Her husband beat them both so badly. Please keep her occupied for a little while. I shall speak with her when we’re finished here.”

  The woman bowed out.

  “She’s pretty,” Mal said, tilting his head. “Very.”

  “Angel is also available and very skilled in relaxing a man after a hard day’s work,” Isaac murmured. “In fact, I think she and April enjoy each other’s company as well. Would you like me to ask them to have dessert with you later?”

  The idea of sleeping with Pippa’s mom nearly made him shudder. “No, but thank you. She seemed unwell to me.”

  “Sometimes God punishes us,” Isaac said easily. “She will heal. I’m sure of it.”

  So Pippa’s mom was sick? Did he have a duty to tell her that somehow? Or did she already know? He wiped a hand across his eyes.

  “Headache?” Isaac asked.

  “Yes.” Mal’s temples were starting to thrum as he came down from wh
atever they’d given him. At least it wasn’t long-lasting.

  Isaac moved forward on his chair. “Close your eyes. I can help.”

  This was weird. “All right.” Mal closed his eyes and forced his body to relax.

  Isaac pressed his fingers to Mal’s temples and then placed his thumbs against Mal’s closed eyelids. “Some of us are special, Malcolm. I’ve been given gifts I can’t understand, but I want to help.”

  Lights flashed across Mal’s closed eyes, and a sense of calm washed through him. Jesus. What the hell was that?

  Isaac released him and sat back.

  Mal opened his eyes. He blinked. “I feel better.” What kind of experience had he just had?

  Isaac smiled. “Of course. Now, before April takes you back to that apartment that’s not worthy of you, would you please do me a couple of favors?”

  Mal figured they’d tossed his fake apartment. No doubt Angus had made sure everything inside stood up to scrutiny. “Yes.” How could he say no after what had just happened?

  Isaac laid out a list of things that needed to be accomplished, including a walk around several acres to check the perimeter. Only Mal could keep people safe. Yes, it would take many hours, but wasn’t the safety of women and children of utmost importance?

  Mal nodded. It was far easier for the cult to keep him from sleeping than he’d thought.

  He was back undercover again. The thought sliced like a blade to the chest.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Pippa heard Mal’s truck pull up around two in the morning, even through the wild storm going on. She’d been tossing and turning all night, trying to avoid nightmares. Sliding out of bed, she moved to the window to see him jump out of a truck. It wasn’t his or Angus’s truck. This one was a deep blue, almost black. She couldn’t see the driver.

  Mal looked at her house and then started up his own walkway.

  She ran to unlock the doors and jump out on the porch. Rain and wind pummeled her, blowing her hair in every direction. “Malcolm?” she called.

  He hesitated and then partially turned. She held her breath until he switched directions and walked toward her, stepping easily over the shrubs and then gracefully moving up her sidewalk through the rain. “Why are you up so late?” Water ran down the hard angles of his face.