Chapter 1
For the first time in her life, undercover FBI agent Fiona Evans truly understood how someone became indoctrinated into a cult. Ever since arriving at the Affirmative Alliance Group center, she’d been bombarded by a relentless onslaught of information, all presented in such a smiling, feel-good, we-only-want-the-best-for-you way that she felt guilty asking for a break. There were seminars and classes, films and audio recordings that were piped into her room at night under the guise of helping her learn while she slept. The other members, so earnestly pleasant and cheerful, were supportive, telling her over and over again that they—and AAG’s founder, Micheline Anderson—only wanted to help her become the best person she could possibly be.
Luckily, Fiona considered herself strong and capable, well trained and not the slightest bit susceptible to either criticism or brainwashing. If she weren’t, even she might have bought in to the relentless indoctrination of nonsense by AAG.
Teeth aching from all the saccharine, Fiona smiled and nodded and pretended until she thought she would scream, which she did sometimes inside her head while smiling back at them.
Even Micheline, a woman Fiona thought of privately as the cult’s supreme ruler, went out of her way to show an interest in her group’s newest arrival, sending a personal note of welcome along with fresh flowers. “An honor,” whispered Leigh Dennings, one of Micheline’s protégées. “So rare. True proof of how special you are.”
With difficulty, Fiona kept from snorting at that. Gullible she wasn’t, though she definitely wanted Leigh and the others to believe she was. In fact, she’d taken great care to make sure she appeared to be exactly the kind of vulnerable person they sought out as recruits. They’d found her, destitute and alone, on the streets of Mustang Valley, asking where she might find a shelter to get a free meal.
Instead, one of the AAG members had found her and taken her to its lovely and welcoming center, ten miles from downtown Mustang Valley. It had a long, tree-lined dirt drive leading in from the main road, an always open, hunter-green gate, and big potted plants in front. Fiona had stared at the woodsy, yet fancy log cabin exterior, large triangular roof over two sprawling stories, before being led into the large, open lobby. She’d been served complimentary beverages and a light lunch and told someone would be out to speak with her soon.
Affirmative Alliance Group had been founded forty years ago by Micheline Anderson, formerly known as Luella Smith. Ever since the FBI had been given an anonymous tip hinting Micheline’s involvement in numerous crimes, including money laundering, they’d researched her. A gifted nurse, Micheline promoted herself as a healer and self-help guru. These days, her followers numbered in the hundreds of thousands, most of those via the internet. Locally, members were only in the hundreds, most of those living in their own homes. Only about twenty people lived in the AAG center full-time, mostly Micheline and her inner circle as well as new recruits who were in the process of being converted.
Like me, Fiona thought grimly. She’d bear it—she had to. As long as she kept her eyes on the big picture, the reason she’d come here, she would survive.
Trying to grab some alone time, Fiona hurried from the crowded room where she’d just attended yet another seminar on becoming your best you—or some variation thereof—and rushed toward the ladies’ room. She’d learned early on that around here, the only place they’d leave you alone was either in the shower or the toilet.
Just as she reached the door, someone grabbed her arm.
“I’ve been looking for you!” Leigh gushed. “You’re not going to believe who asked about you.”
With difficulty, Fiona kept from rolling her eyes. “Micheline?” she guessed.
Clearly astonished, Leigh giggled. “Wow, you are amazing. Smart as well as lovely. Come with me. Micheline asked me to bring you around to talk with her.”
Though Fiona actually considered refusing, she reminded herself of her task and nodded. For such a petite and delicate person, Leigh kept an awfully firm grip on Fiona’s arm as she steered her down a long hallway, through some double doors marked Private and into a part of the center where Fiona had never been.
Here, plush carpet softened their footsteps to a hush. Elegant mahogany tables displayed expensive-looking vases and statues, matched with clearly valuable artwork hung under muted lighting. Fiona felt as if she’d left the Old West and stepped into the corporate offices of some über-rich CEO.
Giving herself a mental shake, she made a show of gaping around her at everything all at once. Seeing, Leigh laughed, the sound like bells tinkling. “It’s something else, isn’t it? I remember the first time I saw it. I was overwhelmed, too.”
They stopped in front of an intricately carved mahogany double door. Spine straight, like a soldier standing at attention, Leigh knocked three times, the staccato sound sharp.
“Come in.” A warm voice, inviting confidences. Micheline Anderson. Finally. Playing the role of everyone’s friend. Fiona’s gut tightened. Funny, in this place, her gut was the only thing she trusted.
Stepping inside, Fiona eyed Leigh, half expecting her to bow. Instead, Leigh murmured something that sounded like, “Here you are,” and turned to leave.
“Wait.” With a benevolent smile, the leader of the AAG waved Leigh to a chair. “You may have a seat also, Fiona,” she offered, making it sound as if Fiona actually had a choice.
“We are to have a special visitor this afternoon.” Bright blue eyes sparkling, Micheline pushed back a strand of her well-coiffed blond hair. “My son, Jake. I haven’t seen him for twenty-three years. I would appreciate if both of you helped in making sure he feels welcome.”
Immediately, Leigh nodded. “Will do,” she chirped. “If you could provide me with some sort of list of his likes and dislikes, I’ll have staff get to work immediately.”
Micheline’s broad smile faltered. Just a tad before she had it firmly back in place. “Honestly, I have no idea. The last time I saw him, he was only seventeen.”