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“Not if I beat you to it,” I say as I run back in, trade my phone for my laptop, and soon the three of us are racing to the finish line.
“Six known communes in the Denver area,” Nikki says.
She has a sick thing about being first. It’s not her finest trait.
I’d admit to sharing the same trait, but I’ve never been first.
“The creek where Emily’s body was found is called Sagewood Flats,” I say, scanning a map of the area on the screen.
“Sagewood,” Fallon repeats. “That’s right next door to Ironwood Springs, and bingo, we’ve got a commune there the database lists as Paradise.”
We’re quiet for the next few minutes as our fingers fly over our keyboards.
“Paradise is a community of hundreds if not thousands,” Nikki says. “Looks as if they own several hundred acres. The land deed belongs to Wilhelmina Lewis who bequeathed it to her son Malcolm.”
“Malcolm Lewis,” I say under my breath as the three of us tap away once again and Buddy gives a soft bark as if cheering us on. “No record.”
“No social media.” Nikki sighs.
“But he’s in sales,” Fallon says as she slides her phone my way. “He’s shilling self-help courses called Quantum Leap to Success and Freedom. Looks like it’s about mindset and manifestation. Calling and speaking yourself into a shiny new existence.”
I grunt as I look over the page myself, “Self-improvement and spiritual enlightenment guaranteed. Find your soulmate, escape financial bondage by earning a real income, and become the version of yourself the universe intended.” I shake my head at the screen. “Sounds exactly like what every downtrodden soul wants to hear.”
“And desperation is a breeding ground for manipulation at the hands of others.” Nikki gives a mournful chuckle. “Heaven help us, I have a feeling Paradise is anything but.”
“Agree,” Fallon says. “Whoever is lapping up these self-help courses is most likely susceptible to being expertly exploited at the hands of those who prey on the vulnerable.”
“Emily’s mother said she was selling some hippy-dippy self-help courses. They’ve got people living at the compound?” I glance at the lake. “Emily said she needed to cut ties with her family. You know what this is starting to sound like?”
Fallon’s lips curve as she looks my way. “Sounds like we’ve got ourselves a cult.”
12
Special Agent Fallon Baxter
Acult.
I’ll admit, that jarred me, but it’s not what jarred me first. As soon as I heard Ironwood Springs, my blood ran cold.
That happens to be the same location Erin was spotted while heading into a liquor store. Erin, my sweet, far-too-smart-for-her-britches sister, has cut ties with Riley, my mother, and me, and all but gave us the finger.
Okay, so she was a little more polite about it, wishing us well in this life. Just the way Emily did with her family.
The sun is starting to set as Jack, Nikki, and I agree that we should wait until morning to head to Ironwood Springs. I already know I won’t be going, but I’ll wait to confirm my decision until I can clear my head a bit and maybe get a few more answers.
I take Buddy and walk back to my place, jump in my truck, and drive straight back to my mother’s diner, and this time not only is she there, but so is Riley.
“Come here.” My sister pulls me into a rocking hug. Her perfume is sickly sweet, just the way I remember, and I’ll be darned if it’s not bringing tears to my eyes because of it. Every memory of my sister is sweet. I pull back and take her in. Riley is older by two years, dyes her dark locks a vanilla shade of blonde, stands a half foot shorter than me, and those dark eyes she sees the world through have observed far too much heartache and pain as far as I’m concerned. “You look great,” I say.
She clucks her tongue and swats me on the arm. “Is that what they taught you out in Quantico? To lie like a pro? Well, you’re still not good at it.” Her attention is waylaid by the cute pooch among us. “Oh my goodness, you sweet little thing, come here. When did you get a dog?” She casts a quick glance at my mother. “See? She doesn’t tell us anything.”
“That’s not true. And this furry cutie belongs to Rob.” I laugh as my mother ushers us to a table near the back.
Bea’s Diner is filled to the brim with dinner patrons, and by the looks of all the delicious meals gracing the tables, my appetite has somehow made a comeback.
“Tonight’s special is slow-cooked pot roast with root veggies and a side of mashed potatoes and gravy. Any objections?” Mom shoots us a look just this side of a threat, and neither my sister nor I dare object. Not that we would. We love our mother’s cooking, and if it’s comfort food, then we love it twice as much. She motions to a waitress and puts in our order as we get situated. “How about this? I got my girls back under one roof for a change.”
Riley and I exchange a glance and Buddy whimpers as if he sensed my unease.
