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“I want it to stop, that’s all. The taking advantage of innocent people, the bogus seminars, the baby switching and now extorting for money. Most of all, I don’t want a bunch of misguided people to keep being bilked out of their life savings with some vague promises of a better version of themselves.”

Leigh recoiled. “Is that really what you think of us?”

“I’m locked up in a basement cell with a broken ankle,” Fiona replied. “From what I saw, Jake was beaten to within an inch of his life. Even though he’s back in the cell next to me, I still don’t know if he’s received any kind of medical care. How about you let a doctor take a look at my ankle, maybe put a brace or a boot or a cast on it? Then maybe I’ll be a tiny bit more inclined to think better of you.”

But Leigh had already started backing away, eyeing Fiona as if she was something she’d found living under a rock.

Once Leigh had gone, Underhill chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. “She’s never going to believe the truth,” he said. “None of them do. That’s why Micheline picks them. She knows how to zero in on the neediest ones.”

“What about you?” she asked, genuinely curious. “Why work here?”

“I needed a job,” he said. “They hired me for security. It was a decent gig, until I got greedy. When I realized what kind of moneymaking scheme Micheline had going here, I decided to try and get some of that cash for myself. I’d been pretty successful at it for a while, shaking down the newbies.”

“Until I caught you.”

“Yeah.” He went quiet for a moment, and then started coughing. “She didn’t like me beating up t

hat kid. I was just shaking him down for cash. You turning me in was a death sentence, you know.”

“Why?” she asked. “You don’t think she’ll let you go?”

He laughed, or tried to. It turned into a bout of coughing. “Nobody gets to leave here. This is Micheline’s death row. Anybody she throws in one of these cells knows too much to ever see the light of day.”

A chill skittered down Fiona’s spine.

“Most die of something else. Like you, with your broken bone. Maybe infection will set in. Me, I got some kind of cold that moved to my chest. Bronchitis now, maybe. Eventually pneumonia. They don’t treat you for anything. Hell, they barely even feed you, and some of the slop they bring isn’t even edible.”

“Except Jake,” she pointed out. “They took him for medical help.”

“Yes, they did. Which means Micheline has some use for him. Otherwise, she’d have left him there to rot in his own blood.” His next fit of coughing left him gasping for air.

The bleakness in Underhill’s voice gave Fiona pause. The FBI would be looking for her, she knew. However, they wouldn’t be aware anything had gone wrong until it was too late. She had to figure out a way to get out of here on her own. She had to stop Micheline’s rebirth gathering before it was too late for all the poor souls she’d managed to dupe.

Chapter 13

When Jake next stirred, he swore he heard Fiona’s sweet voice, calling his name over and over. Dream? Or reality? Opening his eyes, he tried to sit up and the entire room spun. What the...? Then, everything that had happened came rushing back. Whatever had been in that shot that woman had given him had done a number on his equilibrium. Among other things.

Where was he? Squinting, he tried to make out his surroundings. Sore and nauseated, he realized they’d taken him back to his small cell down in the basement.

“Jake, are you okay?” Fiona’s voice, sounding as if it was coming from the cell next to him, which most likely meant he was hallucinating, too.

“Jake?” Her voice broke as she tried again. “Please, answer me.”

He frowned, not sure if what he heard was genuine or a product of his drug-addled imagination. “Fiona? Is that really you? What are you doing down here?”

“It’s me,” she replied. “And they locked me up right after they beat the crap out of you. I’ve been trying forever to wake you up.”

It took him a moment to process her words. Locked up. Fiona had been put into a cell, too. His gut clenched.

“I was so afraid they’d killed you,” she continued. “Especially when you wouldn’t respond no matter how many times I called your name.”

“They drugged me. Not sure with what. How long was I out?” He glanced around, taking in the off-color artificial lighting. “I imagine it’s hard to tell time down here.”

“It is. The lack of natural lighting makes it impossible to even guess if it’s day or night.” She sighed. “Still, I’d have to say you were unconscious for several hours. What did the nurse say? How do you feel?”

He told her everything that had occurred while he was up in the sick bay, or whatever they called it here.

“Micheline came to see me,” she said. “She’s decided not to go with the fake-baby plan after all. She says she has someone inside Colton Oil who is going to tell them that I’ve convinced you to join in on the mass suicide. She’ll offer to stop the scheme if they wire ten million dollars to an offshore account.”


Tags: Karen Whiddon Romance