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During her training at Quantico, Fiona had learned to trust her instincts. Her gut told her that Jake wasn’t involved in Micheline’s scams, ongoing or pending. As far as Leigh, who appeared to honestly believe in her boss and her mission, Fiona thought the young woman might have been blinded by what she viewed as altruistic behavior. Either that, or Leigh was a very good actress.
Intelligence had indicated Micheline had something big coming up, though no one had been able to learn what exactly it might be.
Before taking this assignment, Fiona had gone over every possible scenario with her colleague Holden St. Clair. He’d recently spent some time undercover investigating a killer who targeted beauty pageant contestants—the same beauty pageant Leigh Denning had won. He’d even fallen for, and gotten engaged to, a contestant—a distant Colton cousin named Isabella. Appearances were definitely deceiving when it came to Micheline and her people. No one had known the prodigal son would return, but she’d been prepared just in case. She hadn’t expected Micheline to try and push them together or her own, visceral reaction to Jake’s rugged masculinity. In the past, Fiona had been drawn to more clean-cut, law enforcement types. Jake, with his wavy brown hair and easy, relaxed attitude, seemed the exact opposite.
Cowboys had never been her type. Until now, apparently, when she needed to stay focused on her job—digging up information that would expose Micheline. Maybe it wasn’t too late for some of these poor, deluded people.
At least Jake appeared levelheaded and unwilling to put up with any nonsense. Yet one more thing she liked about him.
Whatever Micheline was plotting involved Jake and, to a lesser extent, Fiona. Not for one second did Fiona believe Micheline had cancer. She’d lied to get her son to come visit, and she lied to her followers, not just seeking donations, but stripping people of their entire savings by getting them to invest in her schemes. While gathering proof of this, as well as investigating allegations of money laundering, the Bureau had been unable to find even one recent instance where Micheline had visited a doctor—any kind of physician at all. Not a general practitioner and certainly not a specialist like an oncologist.
Thinking of the Bureau had Fiona grabbing the untraceable cell phone she’d been issued when she’d taken this assignment. She had a text from Holden, saying he had news and to text back when she could talk. They’d settled on a basic sort of code in case someone else managed to get ahold of her phone. If she texted back anything but the number 1, he knew not to call.
She texted 1 and waited. A moment later, her phone rang.
“Big goings-on at Colton Oil,” Holden said. “Seems Micheline paid them a little visit recently. She’s still claiming she’s dying from stage-three bone cancer.”
“Okay.” Since this wasn’t news, Fiona waited. She also had to be careful what she said, just in case someone might be listening in via a hidden bug or recording device in her room.
“She told Ainsley Colton and Ace Colton about her son Jake Anderson’s upcoming visit,” Holden continued.
“Yes, he’s here now. He got in today.”
“Wow. Then things are about to get really interesting. Does he know? I mean, rumors have swirled about a Colton baby switch for months.”
“He doesn’t appear to know, actually,” Fiona responded. “He’s never mentioned anything about Micheline switching babies in the hospital when both Ace and Jake were newborns.” If Micheline had done this, she might be guilty of additional crimes, too.
“That’s really odd, since the entire Colton family does, and they raised Micheline’s birth son, who grew up as Ace Colton. My fiancée, Bella, has gotten closer to Marlowe throughout all of this, and of course I’m old army buddies with Spencer, and they shared this with me.”
“Then what game is Micheline playing?” she asked.
“That’s for you to find out,” Holden replied. “How are you and Jake getting along?”
Rubbing her now aching temples, Fiona sighed. “For whatever reason, I felt an instant connection to Jake.”
“Micheline instructed you to cozy up to him?”
“Yes. We’re going to dinner tonight, on her.”
Holden laughed, a short bark of sound. “Have fun with that. Remember, stay out of trouble.”
Ending the call, Fiona stashed the phone back in her pocket. Its compact size made it almost undetectable, and she kept it on her at all times. She wouldn’t put it past Micheline and her crew to periodically search her room.
Replaying the information Holden had given her, she kept circling back to Jake. Did he know? Could that possibly be the reason he’d stayed away all these years? Right then and there, she knew she had to do what Micheline had asked of her—get close to Jake and find out exactly what kind of information he had.
* * *
All the way to his car, Jake gave himself a mental tongue lashing. Fiona Smith might be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, but she certainly didn’t need rescuing. As an adult, she’d clearly made a conscious choice to join his mother’s “self-help” group. He barely knew her and did not have the right to try and change her mind. However, that didn’t stop him from wanting to.
Hefting his bag over his shoulder, he gave a quiet groan. He’d never been able to resist attempting to right a wrong, especially when said wrong involved children, animals or women. Micheline was a parasite, preying on vulnerable people, using them for her own ends and twisting their minds. He couldn’t stand to see Fiona meet that sort of fate.
Since he didn’t intend on being here long enough to have time to persuade her, he figured he’d sound her out at dinner tonight to ascertain her true thoughts about the AAG. One thing he’d noticed in particular was that many members didn’t even seem to be aware it was a cult. If he could get her to admit that, she might be agreeable to talking to one of his friends who worked to deprogram cult members. It was worth a shot.
Back in his small room, which seemed just as antiseptic and impersonal as that of any chain motel, he walked to the window and pushed aside the curtains. Instead of a view of cement and parking lots, he saw a lush garden filled with vibrant flowers of every color. A large metal bench made an inviting place to sit, and he could have sworn he saw a koi pond on the other side of the bench.
For just an instant, he allowed himself to enjoy the restful beauty of it all. And then he remembered who had most likely arranged that lush garden, and why. Micheline would do anything—anything—to get what she wanted. She’d move people around like chess pieces, manipulate their emotions and their surroundings, as long as she thought it would benefit her in some way. She cared nothing for the wreckage she left in her wake. Collateral damage, she’d always said, as if the wording made it right. The garden no doubt played some role in her schemes. She never did anything without a reason.
At thirteen, he’d come to the realization that if she found a way to use him, she would. As a kid, he’d been forced to charm elderly couples into investing with his mom, aware his mother only wanted their money. Back then, she’d marketed herself as a skillful investor, but secretly priding herself on taking every cent of people’s life savings. She also lured in a rotating crop of men in her personal life, all wealthy, training Jake to make them all feel as if she might be a doting mother and a wonderful girlfriend. Of course, once she’d managed to use them, she’d dump them and move on to another, uncaring that her young son might have just been happy to have a father figure around.
