Colton's Last Stand
Showing you around is the first task I’ve ever been given. I don’t want to fail at it.”
What could he do but go with her? Still, she might be attractive, but what kind of person could she be if she belonged to his mother’s cult?
She led him down a long hall into a large room dominated by a huge stone fireplace. A fire blazed cheerfully, despite the relative warmth of the Arizona day.
People were seated on various couches or at tables, some reading, a few talking, and he even saw one or two playing a board game or doing a puzzle. Almost, he thought, as if he stood in the lobby of some fancy hotel.
He eyed them as he passed, trying for casual but wondering if he’d be able to see something on their faces or in their eyes that might reveal what had made them ripe for Micheline’s indoctrination. When Jake had been younger, she’d talked about someday starting her own church. In fact, she’d managed to create her own group of followers.
He wanted no part of it.
Fiona continued on, her hips swaying as she led him to a door on the far side of the huge room. Just as they reached it, an overly made-up young blonde woman rushed over.
“Hello there,” she murmured, looking him up and down, her predatory manner reminding him so much of the way his mother used to act that he nearly took a step back. “I’m Leigh Dennings, a welcome coordinator here at the AAG. And the reigning Miss Mustang Valley,” she chirped.
Not sure how to respond to that, he settled on “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She smiled sweetly at him before turning her attention to Fiona. “If you need anything, anything at all, just ask someone at the reception desk to call me and I’ll be right there.”
Fiona nodded. “Will do.” She checked her watch.
“Do you have any idea what time Micheline will be available?”
Good question. Eyeing Fiona, Jake waited to hear her answer.
Leigh shrugged. “I know she’s booked solid all afternoon. I’m sure she’ll be out here as soon as she can.”
“You know what?” Jake decided he’d had enough.
“Take me to her. Right now.”
“I… I don’t think she’d appreciate me doing that,”
Leigh stammered, eyeing him as if he’d suddenly sprouted a pair of horns and a tail. Fiona, on the other hand, looked at him with what he’d swear was approval.
In fact, she appeared to be struggling not to laugh.
“I don’t care,” he told Leigh. “Not only is she the one who called and asked to see me, but it’s been years. If today is not a good day, then I’ll be heading home and you can tell her if she really wants to see me, she’s welcome to make the drive to my place.” Which he knew she’d never do in a million years. Micheline preferred to remain in her place of power.
Still staring, Leigh finally nodded. “Give me five minutes,” she said and then rushed off.
Both he and Fiona watched her go.
“I take it your relationship with your mom is strained,” Fiona drawled. She sounded completely different than the nervous, uncertain acolyte she’d resembled a few minutes ago. Was it because Leigh was gone?
“Strained doesn’t even begin to describe it,” he replied, flashing her a sideways grin.
Her dark eyes widened, and then she grinned right back at him. “I like you.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Here comes Micheline. Give ’em hell, cowboy.”
Stunned, he barely managed to collect himself in time to turn and watch as his mother barreled toward him, her high heels clicking on the wood floor.
“My boy,” Micheline boomed, causing more than a few heads to turn. She held out her arms, clearly expecting him to rush into them.
Since he didn’t want to cause a scene, though he stayed in place, he allowed her to hug him, hoping the grimace on his face looked more like a smile than it felt.
“Let me look at you.” Pulling back, Micheline made a show of pretending to take in every detail of his appearance. “Wow, son. Forty sure looks good on you.”
The slight edge in her voice told him how little she liked the idea of having a child so old.
Already bored, Jake thanked her. “Is there somewhere private we can go and talk?” he asked.
To his disbelief, she actually checked her watch, a flashy designer thing that cost more than several head of cattle. “I don’t live too far from here,” she mused, considering. “But I’ve got a magazine crew arriving in thirty minutes to do a photoshoot and feature on me for Mindful Living magazine.” She shook her head, sending her artfully styled blond hair swinging around her perfectly made-up face. “I know.” She brightened. “We can chat in my office.”
Chat. He’d driven all this way so she could squeeze out thirty minutes to chat with him.
“Follow me.” Without waiting to see if he would, Micheline spun around and marched off in the direction from which she’d come. Leigh trailed along after her.
Fiona put her hand on his arm, as if she understood exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t know what’s going on here,” she said. “But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give her a shot.”
Jaw clenched, he nodded.
When they reached Micheline’s office, the double mahogany doors were wide-open. Jake stared as he realized several other people were already there. In addition to his mother, Leigh and Fiona, a big blond guy with a crew cut and a physique that screamed bodyguard stood with his arms folded.
Moving with all the grace of a queen, Micheline sailed around to the other side of her massive desk and settled herself in her luxurious leather chair. “Have a seat, Jake,” she said. “And then we’ll talk.”
Instead, Jake took his time looking around the room, taking care to make eye contact with every single one of them. “Could we have some privacy?” he asked the room at large.
Fiona actually took a step toward the door before apparently realizing no one else had moved. They all looked to Micheline, clearly waiting for her approval.
An expression of shock crossed her face. But then she slowly nodded. “Everyone out.”
“Even me?” the muscular guy asked.
“Yes, Bart,” Micheline said, smiling. “You can stand guard outside my door.” She looked at Jake, one perfectly shaped brow raised. “He’s my bodyguard.”
“I figured.”
As soon as the door closed, Micheline came around the desk and took Jake’s arm. He didn’t jerk away, but he felt himself tense up even though he knew better than to show any weakness around her. He let her lead him over to a small, overstuffed couch in a little sitting area to one side of her office.
“Sit.” She patted the space next to her. “When I’m gone, all of this will be yours.”
He didn’t bother to hide his distaste. “I don’t want it.
Any of it. Micheline-” damned if he’d call her Mom or Mother “-you said you were dying.”
“Yes.” She looked down, hands twisting in her lap.
“Stage-three bone cancer. I’m not sure how much time I have left.”
“Tell me about your treatment,” he asked. “I assume you’re doing chemo and some sort of radiation?”
Grimacing with distaste, she waved her hand. “I don’t want to talk about any of that right now. We’ll have plenty of time for that later. How long are you staying?”
He didn’t have the heart to tell her he had planned on heading home in the morning. The less time he spent under her roof, the better. The things he’d witnessed her do to others when he’d been a boy still made him shudder. He’d seen her order beatings when someone defied her and once, he seriously wondered if he might have witnessed her disposing of a body she’d murdered. As for himself, he guessed he’d been lucky that she’d pretended he didn’t exist.
“I’m not sure,” he replied instead. “I definitely don’t want to intrude on your busy schedule.” Said without even a hint of sarcasm.
Micheline’s expressive face fell. “I have so much to make up for with you,” she mused. “Before…you know.”
She waved her hand vaguely.
By that, he deduced that she didn’t want her assistants, or whatever they were, to know about her cancer.
None of his business, he thought. “The question is,” he said, deciding to be blunt, “are you going to have time?
It’s clear you’re insanely busy.”
Eyes narrowing slightly, she regarded him. While he waited for her answer, part of him wished she’d just dismiss him and let him go. Another part, a tiny kernel of the child he’d once been, hoped she’d put him first for once.
“Can you give me a couple of days?” Micheline pleaded. “Too many people depend on me for me to just drop everything. If I can tie up some loose ends and delegate a few things, I’ll be free to spend a day or two with you. Will that work?”
This from a woman who hadn’t ever seemed to care if her own son was lonely. And when he’d craved a father figure, she’d told him coldly that she had no idea who his father had been.
“We’ll give it a shot,” he responded, his expression as neutral as his voice. “I’ve got people taking care of my livestock. Let’s play it by ear and see how it pans out.”
Was that surprise that flashed across his mother’s face? Surely not, especially when she let out a cry of pure joy and wrapped him in a hug. “Thank you, Jake.
Thank you. I promise you won’t regret it.”
He couldn’t shake the feeling she was playing a part.
But then again, what did he know? He hadn’t seen her in years. Maybe she’d changed. Doubtful, but who knew?
Micheline released him, pressing a button on a walkie-talkie on her waist and summoning Fiona and Leigh back in. A moment later, the door opened and the two women entered. Micheline turned to Fiona and smoothed her face into a benevolent look. “I’m entrust-ing him into your care,” she said, patting the younger woman on the shoulder. “Looking after Jake is to be your only task while he’s here, and he’s to want for nothing, you hear?”
Slowly, Fiona nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Micheline and Leigh exchanged a look. Jake wasn’t sure what it meant, but it clearly made Fiona uncomfortable.
“Are you all right with that, Jake?” Micheline asked.
Glancing up, he saw both Fiona and Leigh watched him expectantly. He had no idea why it mattered, but he suddenly didn’t want Fiona to think him heartless.
“That’s fine,” he replied.
“Perfect. Fiona, be your best you and take good care of my son,” Micheline reiterated, taking Leigh’s arm and sailing away.
Chapter 2
Be your best you. AAG’s stock phrase and one of many catchy little sound bites Micheline fed like pap to her followers. They set Fiona’s nerves on edge. She swallowed, willing away her embarrassment and hoping Jake didn’t pick up on his mother’s underlying message. Did Micheline and Leigh seriously think she’d fall into bed with Jake simply because the head of AAG wished it?
Undercover while undercover could be a tricky thing.
Luckily, Jake appeared to be oblivious. He watched his mother go, his hard expression at odds with the hurt she could swear she saw briefly flit in his gaze. His broad shoulders and narrow waist filled out his western shirt well and the way his brown hair had started graying at the temples gave him a look of distinction. But his compelling blue eyes were what attracted her the most.
Despite his guarded manner, they glowed with warmth.
“What now?” he asked, noticing her staring.
Improvising, since she truly had no idea, Fiona figured she’d first need to find him a place to stay. “Let me get you a room. I imagine you need some time to freshen up after your long drive.”
“That sounds great.” Jake glanced around. “Will I be staying here or somewhere else?”
Crud. Though Fiona had hoped she would, Micheline hadn’t mentioned letting him stay in her house. Despite decreeing that he’d be bunking in the center, Fiona couldn’t imagine a mother wanting her son to stay elsewhere. Still, she knew better than to offer up something that might be wrong. “As far as I know, you’ll be staying here with us. But let me check with Leigh. She’s one of Micheline’s right-hand people.”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
Fiona fingered the walkie-talkie Leigh had given her earlier. Taking a deep breath, she thumbed the unit on, bringing it up to her mouth and murmuring Leigh’s name.
“On my way,” Leigh said. A moment later, she appeared, striding through the room with her usual exuberant self-confidence. Her silky blond hair gleamed, and her long, perfectly toned legs flashed beneath the hem of her short skirt.
When she reached them, Leigh flashed Jake a flirty smile before turning her attention to Fiona. “How can I help?”
Tamping down an irrational flash of jealously, Fiona briefly wondered why Micheline hadn’t chosen Leigh to fix up with her son. This thought stung so badly that Fiona wondered at herself. He might be handsome as all get out, but her job came first. Centering herself, Fiona managed a smile. “Since Jake is going to be staying a few days, I thought I’d find out where he’s-”
“I’ve had a room prepared for him,” Leigh interrupted with a small laugh. “Right across the hall from yours, as a matter of fact.”
It took an effort, but Fiona managed to appear happy about that news. A quick look at Jake reassured her that he didn’t appear to notice Leigh’s innuendo.
Thank goodness, because the last thing Fiona needed was fighting off a man who believed he was entitled to anything solely due to being Micheline’s son, even if he really wasn’t.
Though so far, Jake seemed the opposite. Almost as if he too saw through all the BS. Nah. She knew better than to make quick assumptions about anyone, most particularly someone related to this cult.
“Here,” Leigh chirped, batting her false eyelashes.
“Take this.” She handed Fiona a one-hundred-dollar bill and a card key similar to the room keys used by hotels. “The two of you go out to dinner tonight, on Micheline, of course. There are several excellent restaurants nearby. Enjoy yourselves and get to know one another.” She simpered prettily. “And if you need a recommendation, please let me know.”
Then, with one more pointed glance at Fiona, Leigh sashayed off.
Every male in the room watched her go.
Except Jake. When Fiona looked up, she caught his gaze fixed on her. Her lips parted, and her heart skipped a beat. “What?” she asked, hating how breathless she sounded.
“I’m just wondering at the difference in my mother’s choice of aides,” he said, shrugging. “You and Leigh are like night and day.”
If only he knew. Handing him the hundred-dollar bill, she flashed an impersonal smile. “If you follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”
He stared at the money as if it was tainted. “I don’t want this,” he said, holding it out. “Please. Take it.”
Instead, she looked up at him, frowning. “Why not?
Micheline is your mother. I don’t feel comfortable accepting her money.”
“Neither do I.” Once more, he thrust the money toward her, his jaw clenched. Again, she ignored it.
With a grimace, he tossed it on the floor. Horrified, she eyed it, torn between not wanting to be wasteful but also not wanting to let him win. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore, so she retrieved it and jammed the bill into her pocket.
“Let me show you to your room.” She turned and walked away, not bothering to look behind her to make sure he followed. When she reached the second-floor hallway, she headed toward her own quarters, stopping right outside the door. Checking the room number on the card key, she saw he was indeed directly across from her. This knowledge caused her stomach to swoop alarmingly, since under any other circumstances she’d be teasing him about sneaking into each other’s room.
“Here you are.” She used the card to unlock and open the door. “I’m right there,” she said, pointing at her door. “Knock if you need anything.”
Following her inside the compact space, he looked around with interest. “Not bad. Not what I expected, but still…”
She dropped the card key and the hundred-dollar bill on the dresser. “I’ll see you later,” she said, her voice as stiff as her spine.
“Wait.” He caught her arm. She tensed, not sure what she expected but hoping she was wrong. When she glared at him, he released her. “Sorry. But please, can we talk a minute?”
“Sure.” Aware crossing her arms would be a defensive posture, she kept her hands down at her sides. “If you want to know where I want to go for dinner, it doesn’t matter. I’ll eat whatever you’re in the mood for.”
“I don’t want to talk about dinner.” He gestured to the room’s lone chair. Once she’d taken a seat, he sat down on the edge of his bed. Elbows on his knees, he studied her.
“Why are you here?” he asked, the intensity in his voice matching his eyes. “Leigh, I can understand. But you? You seem like a levelheaded person, someone who considers her options carefully and deliberately before making a choice. What made you choose to join the AAG?”
Her cover story stuck in her throat. For whatever reason, she couldn’t lie to him, this handsome man she’d just met and barely knew. Something about him… He appeared to be the first genuine person she’d met since arriving at AAG, though she really didn’t know enough about him to reach that kind of a conclusion. She settled for a shrug instead of telling her story.
“You know this is a cult, right?” he continued, his expression fierce.
Making sure to act alarmed, she made a sound of indignation. “Do you truly expect me to sit here while you say bad things about AAG? Your mother is practically a saint.”
He laughed at that. “You clearly don’t know her, then.” He held up both hands in a defensive posture as she deepened her frown. “Never mind, Fiona. I didn’t mean to upset you. Forget I said anything.”
She nodded, careful and cautious. Still smiling, he looked at her, rugged and masculine and the sexiest damn cowboy she’d ever met.
“I’m looking forward to having dinner with you later.” He jumped to his feet, dusting his palms off on the front of his jeans. “But right now, I’m going to get my bag from my truck, shower and unpack, and maybe even take a quick nap.”
Considering him, she stood. Ignoring the insistent tug of attraction she felt when she looked at him, she nodded. “I’ll see you later, then,” she said, her voice clear and steady.
He followed her toward the main entrance. As she turned to walk away, he called her name. “Fiona.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes?”
“Seven tonight?”
“I’ll be ready,” she said, her heart racing for absolutely no reason whatsoever.
Back in her room, she shook her head, making a face at herself in her mirror. Now was definitely not the time to be acting like a teenager with a crush. Especially since putting her and Jake together was something Micheline wanted to do. That alone made Fiona want to do the opposite.
In her five years working in the Phoenix FBI office, she’d been jockeying for a prime undercover operation like this one. She’d known in advance of coming here what kind of woman led the organization. She’d spent hours prepping, learning everything she could about Micheline Anderson and the AAG. Naturally, she’d also read quite a bit of material on Micheline’s estranged son, who actually was Ace Colton.
For all intents and purposes, Jake appeared to be the polar opposite of the woman he apparently still believed to be his mother. As if when he’d left home, he’d asked himself in every situation, what would Micheline do, and then done the exact opposite. Of course, that made sense. Jake wasn’t Micheline’s biological son.
He led a quiet life, running a small cattle ranch north of here. At first, Fiona had suspected Micheline had asked him to visit with the intention of bleeding him dry, but judging from bank records, every penny Jake made went right back into his ranch. He wasn’t exactly flush with cash.
Unlike the head of AAG, who spent money as if there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Which explained why Micheline was behind in her personal income taxes and appeared to be struggling to juggle all her bills. She booked speaking engagements and even organized a few crowd-funding events, lining her pockets with donations, fees and contributions from people desperate to live their best lives. Despite that, she managed to stay cash poor.
Fiona planned to take her down. She wouldn’t rush, she’d be careful, her methods above reproach. But she would stop her. The money laundering was bad enough, but her some of her investment schemes had bilked a lot of people out of cash.
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.