“Really? Because when she visited me, she made it clear that she planned on bugging out of here long before the big gathering went down. She’ll leave the rest of you holding the bag, Randall. If you live, you and Bart and Leigh will be accessories to murder. You’ll spend the rest of your lives in prison.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “Micheline wouldn’t let that happen. She promised to always take care of us.”
Before Fiona could respond, Randall’s walkie-talkie squawked. At the familiar sound, Fiona instinctively looked for hers, but it had apparently been taken when they’d grabbed her cell phone.
Randall pressed the button and answered. “Code red, code red,” Bart screamed. “Get up here now!”
“What the...?” Randall paled. He glanced at Fiona, then took off running for the stairs. Judging by the way he slammed the door, he’d left it unlocked.
“Too bad we can’t get out of our cells,” Jake said. “I’d love to see whatever is going on up there.”
“I can only hope it’s law enforcement,” she muttered. “Who else could cause Bart to react like that?”
Due to the double set of steel doors, no noise from the house above reached them.
“I hate not knowing what’s going on,” Jake finally said.
“Me, too,” she admitted.
She’d barely gotten the words out of her mouth when the door smashed open, so hard it slammed into the wall.
“FBI,” a voice hollered. Holden St. Clair.
While she had no idea how they’d known to come here, the relief made her legs go weak. “Down here,” she yelled. “They have me and three others locked up in individual cells.”
The sound of more feet clattering down the stairs. Three more FBI agents, two men and a woman, came in, walking Randall and Bart, both in handcuffs, in front of them.
“We’re going to need medical assistance,” she told Holden once he’d retrieved the keys from Randall and unlocked her cell.
“How badly are you hurt?” Holden asked, pulling her to her feet and letting her lean on him.
“Broken ankle,” she said. “But Jake has a head injury and probably broken ribs. There are two others in cells that way.” She pointed. “The man most likely has pneumonia, but it’s the woman I’m really worried about.”
Holden nodded, signaling one of the other agents, who went back upstairs so he could call for help. Assisting Fiona so she could walk, they went to Jake’s cell and unlocked it. Immediately, Fiona went to him.
“Are you okay?” she asked, falling to her knees next to him.
Attempting to smile at her, he nodded. “A bit woozy. Slipping in and out of consciousness. But I’ll survive.”
“Wait here,” Holden ordered. “I’m going to check on the other two.”
A moment later, he returned. “The man with the pneumonia is very ill. I’ll have the paramedics take him out first.”
“What about the woman in the last cell?” Fiona asked.
Slowly, Holden shook his head. “She didn’t make it. No idea how long ago she died, but she’s gone. I double-checked to make sure. She has no pulse.”
Fiona didn’t bother to hide her fury. “Micheline did this. When she’s charged, you need to add this woman’s death to the list.”
“Oh, we will.” Grim faced, Holden glanced from her to Jake, who remained woozy. “Luckily, we caught Micheline just as she was about to leave. She seemed stunned that we actually had a search warrant. And we’ve rounded up her closest followers, including Miss Mustang Valley.”
“Leigh.” Fiona nodded. “I warned her. I refuse to feel sorry for her now.”
“We’ve got a full search going on of this entire building. We got a tip that all the poison Micheline intended to feed her followers had been delivered.”
“A tip?” Fiona eyed him. “Is that how you found us?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Dee Walton, Payne Colton’s administrative assistant, called us. Apparently, Micheline asked her to not only extort her boss but to join in the mass suicide.” He shrugged. “Pretty hard to believe, but she claimed she’d never realized she was part of a cult until then.”
“I get it,” Fiona said. “I tried to talk to Leigh about that, and she refused to believe the AAG is a cult. I’m not entirely sure why.”
“Micheline had honed the fine art of brainwashing,” Jake said. “She’s always been good at convincing others to do what she wanted.”
“The paramedics are here,” one of the other FBI agents announced. “We’ve got enough ambulances to transport all four of the injured.”
“One is already deceased,” Holden informed him.
The agent winced. “Also, we need someone to make a statement to the other AAG members. They’re demanding to know what’s going on.”
“I can do that,” Fiona said. “Most of them know me anyway.” She looked from Holden to the other agents. “I’ll just need a lot of help getting up the stairs.”
With one agent on each side, leaning on them heavily and hopping on one foot, she made it out. Someone located a wheelchair and brought it to her.
“We’ve asked them to gather in that amphitheater in the back,” the female agent said. “My name is Bonnie. If you’d like, I can push you there.”
Grateful, Fiona accepted her help.
When she was wheeled into the large arena where Micheline had held her most intense seminars, the noisy room gradually fell quiet as people realized she was there.
She wouldn’t have thought addressing these people, with whom she’d interacted on a daily basis, would be so difficult. Heart in her throat, she looked around, seeing their open, trusting faces, bracing herself for the disbelief and disappointment that was sure to follow.
Since she couldn’t stand to reach the microphone on the podium, Bonnie unhooked it from the stand and brought it down to her.
Fiona swallowed, looking out at the group assembled, making eye contact with as many people as she could. “Good afternoon, everyone,” she said. “Many of you know me as one of the AAG’s newest recruits. In reality, I’m an FBI agent who has been working here undercover.” And then she told them why. All of it, leaving out nothing.
As she spoke, she saw the ripple of shock and disbelief spread through the crowd. Many expressions turned mutinous, as if the instant she stopped speaking, they meant to stand up and accuse her of spreading falsehoods about their beloved Micheline.
She wrapped things up with the worst transgression of all—the born-again gathering, a blithe name for a horrible mass suicide. “We believe Micheline had a secret, offshore bank account, blackmailed the Coltons for ten million and had ordered a private plane to take her somewhere, likely in the Caribbean, like Grand Cayman. At this point, we can only speculate as to her reasons for doing such a thing. She is currently in FBI custody and facing numerous criminal charges.”
At this last sentence, the room erupted in sound. Shouts of denial, some cursing her, calling her names. Some people cried, wailing loudly as if grief stricken, now that the woman they’d revered as a prophet had been proven false. There would be some, Fiona knew, who’d discount what she’d told them, who’d refuse to believe even the slightest stain on Micheline’s character.
There wasn’t anything she could do about that. All she could hope for was in the coming days, as the story played out on both the local and national media, the doubters would come to a gradual realization that maybe everything wasn’t exactly as it had seemed in the AAG. She wondered if they’d ever truly understand how close they’d come to losing their lives. Would they someday look back on all this and wonder how they could have been so foolish?
Since the entire AAG center was now considered a crime scene, she’d pleaded her case and would be allowed to stay and work out of the room she’d been occupying while working undercover. Which was good, since the alternative wo
uld have meant going back to the field office and trying to work remotely.
She’d done well. Micheline had been stopped, pure evil taken down. Her supervisor had commended her and this would look good in her file.
As always when a case concluded, there were statements to make and reports to fill out. But first, she had to get her ankle looked at. Holden drove her to the same ER where Jake had been taken.
Jake. Just thinking about him had her stomach doing somersaults. More than anything, she wanted to explore a relationship with him, to see if the hot intensity of these feelings might do well as a slow simmer. She hoped he felt the same way.
X-rays proved conclusively that her ankle had been fractured. They gave her a pill for the pain, along with instructions not to drive for twenty-four hours. Then the doctor put a boot on her foot and handed her crutches, urging her to see an orthopedic surgeon as soon as possible.
“I want to go check on Jake,” she told Holden, who only rolled his eyes, though he agreed to accompany her.
Jake had been admitted, she learned. Though they cited HIPAA laws and refused to release any information about his condition, she got his room number.
Moving awkwardly on the crutches, she and Holden rode the elevator to the third floor. She hobbled slowly down the seemingly endless hall, brushing off Holden’s repeated attempts to help. “There,” she said, relieved when she finally saw his room number.
Moving as quietly as crutches would allow, she went inside. Jake lay unconscious in the hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and various machines. He seemed pale, she thought, hobbling over to stand at the edge of his bed. His head hadn’t been bandaged, so she took that as a good sign.
“You really care about this guy, don’t you?” Holden asked quietly.
She nodded. “It caught me by surprise, but yes. I do.”
“Does he feel the same way?”
“I think so.” She gave Holden a tiny smile. “I’m hoping to get a chance to find out.”
“Let’s get you back to the AAG center,” Holden said. “You need to rest, and I’ve got to get back to work. There’s a lot of evidence to process.”
With one last lingering look at Jake, Fiona turned to go.
* * *
The efficiency and competence with which the medical personnel checked him out made Jake’s head ache even more. While he drifted in and out, they took X-rays and blood, examined and cleaned his various wounds and abrasions, and hooked him up to an IV drip to provide him with fluids and who knew what else.
He couldn’t tell how much time had passed—it could have been minutes or hours or days. Though no one had any idea what kind of drug he might have been given, they told him they were monitoring him to make sure he would be all right until it left his system.
Comforting, those assurances. Now all he wanted was Fiona. He was dimly aware of hearing that various Colton family members had stopped by to check on him, and he remembered seeing Fiona’s face once or twice.
During one of his more lucid moments, he tried to locate his cell phone, intending to call her. But after a frantic search in his bed linens, he remembered the phone had been taken from him.
Surely, she’d come to see him as soon as she was able. Clinging to this certainty, he allowed himself to slide back into the darkness, even though he didn’t want to miss seeing her.
When he next opened his eyes, he felt more like himself. Surrounded by the steady beeping of medical machines, he sat up slowly, bracing himself for pain. Instead, he felt only a dull ache.
And the fog had left his brain, which meant the drugs had finally been flushed from his system. He stretched, tentative with his movement at first, then gradually allowing himself more confidence.
A doctor finally stopped by, letting Jake know he was actually in pretty good shape, all things considered. Aside from several messed-up ribs—bruised, not broken—he had a concussion and some nasty cuts and bruises. They’d been more concerned about the drug they’d injected into his bloodstream. Though the FBI had seized control of the entire AAG center, including the medical facility area, analyzing everything they’d found was going to take time. And since he clearly appeared to be recovering, that had removed any level of urgency in them getting rush results.
Once the doctor left, Jake sat back in bed, relieved. Now that all of this was finally over—Micheline had been arrested, the empire she’d built on lies and scams in the process of being dismantled—Jake had thought he’d feel more...satisfaction? Relief?
Instead, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for all the innocent lives Micheline had ruined, including his own. He’d bet a lot of her followers still refused to believe that they’d been duped. He’d seen it over and over growing up. Somehow, Micheline managed to make people believe in her.
Not anymore. Though he wouldn’t put it past her to try and start up some kind of cult following in prison once she got there.
Hell of a situation. And to think he almost hadn’t come back. Just that tiny, remote possibility that Micheline might have really been dying of cancer had been enough to lure him in. And as usual, everything she’d done had been calculated as to how it could benefit her.
Now, Micheline’s reign would finally be over. And a lot of the people whose lives she touched would never be the same.
For him, a few good things had come of it all. He’d not only learned his true identity, but he’d met Fiona, the woman he suspected he could love. And he’d finally gotten started getting to know the family he should have grown up with.
“Hey, there.” Ace Colton strolled into the hospital room, almost as if Jake’s thoughts had summoned him. “Glad to hear you’re going to live,” he said, smiling.
Jake found himself grinning back at the other man. “Me, too,” he said. “For a while there, I wondered.”
Ace pulled a chair up next to the hospital bed and took a seat. “At least it’s just a concussion, not a skull fracture. Fiona was really worried, you know.”
Simply hearing her name brought warmth to Jake’s heart. “How is she?” he asked.
“I was worried about her, too.” Ace smiled. “Luckily, she won’t have to have surgery on that ankle. They put her in a soft cast inside a boot. She’s been up here twice.”
Jake groaned. “She has? I wish someone would have woken me so I could have talked to her. How much time has passed?”
“Two days,” Ace informed him. “Sorry, man.”
“Do you have any idea when Fiona is coming back?”
“Oh, she’s here now. I drove her. You should see her getting around on that knee scooter.” Ace smiled. “She hates it.”
“You would, too,” Fiona said, wheeling herself into the room. “Good news, Jake. You’re being released to go home today.”
Home. For him, that would be his ranch, 120 miles to the north. Way too far away from Fiona.
Something of his mixed emotions must have shown on his face.
“You can stay with us,” Ace invited. “One of our guest bedrooms is yours for as long as you need.”
Relieved, he thanked the other man, then eyed Fiona. “What about you? Where are you going?”
“I’ll be hanging out at the AAG center for a few more days, gathering evidence,” she said, smiling. “I’d love to see you when I’m not working, if you’d like.”
Ace laughed, startling them both. Jake realized he’d managed to briefly forget the other man was there.
“I have an idea,” Ace said. “How about we have you over for dinner again, Fiona? Everyone enjoyed meeting you last time.”
“Sounds great.” She rolled over to Jake’s other side and leaned in to kiss his cheek. If Ace hadn’t been there, Jake would have turned his face toward her for a real kiss instead.
He could have sworn disappointment flashed across her expressive face.
“I’d better get back to
it. I’ve got work to do,” Fiona told them. “I wrote my number on a slip of paper, Jake. Use the room phone and give me a call once they have you sign discharge papers. They said it would be later this afternoon. I’ll see who I can finagle a ride with.”
“Will do.”
“I can give him a ride,” Ace volunteered. “Since he’ll be coming to the Triple R anyway.”
“Perfect.” With a jaunty wave, Fiona wheeled herself out of the room.
After she’d left, Ace turned back to Jake. “My dad’s assistant is beside herself,” he said. “When Dee finally realized the truth about Micheline, she took it hard.”
“At least she did the right thing and notified the authorities. Fiona said it was awful when she told the AAG members, too. Apparently, most of them didn’t want to learn the woman they’d idolized had feet of clay.”
Ace regarded him steadily. “We would have paid the money, you know. If it came down to that.”
“What?” Jake stared. “Ten million? That’s a lot of cash. Surely, you didn’t believe I’d be foolish enough to even consider ingesting poison in some bizarre attempt to die and be reborn.”
“Of course not. Dee let us all in on Micheline’s scheme. Did you know when they caught her, she had a one-way ticket to Grand Cayman? That must have been where she set up her untraceable bank account. She would have disappeared by the time her followers started to die.”
Shaking his head, Jake winced as a quick flash of pain hit him. “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that she’d actually talked a bunch of gullible people into dying for false hopes and promises, or that she intended to leave them alone while they did it.”
Ace grimaced. “I can’t believe I’m actually related to her.”
“My condolences,” Jake replied. “Believe me when I say I know how it feels. At least neither of us will have to deal with her again. She’ll be locked up for the rest of her life, most likely.”
“I think so,” Ace agreed. “I hear there are so many charges.”
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