She was leery of trusting anyone, but Micah called to something inside her.

She couldn’t let down her guard in a moment of an emotional outburst, so she pulled back from him enough that their bodies no longer touched. “Sorry about that,” she said as she swiped at her cheeks.

“No need to apologize,” he replied, his eyes dark and glittering in the faint light. “Sorry about this.”

She looked at him curiously just before he wrapped one of his hands around the back of her head and pulled her toward him. She had no time to process, no time to deny him as his mouth took possession of hers …

When he finally released her she stared at him, appalled that she wanted more, that something about Micah Grayson touched her like no man had ever before in her life.

About the Author

CARLA CASSIDY is an award-winning author who has written more than one hundred books. In 1998 she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews.

Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

Mercenary’s Perfect Mission
Carla Cassidy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Chapter 1

The Wyoming woods atop the tall mountains that cradled the town of Cold Plains were just beginning to take on a fall cast of color. This worked perfectly with the camouflage long-sleeved T-shirt and pants that Micah Grayson wore as he made his way through the thick brush and trees.

Although a gun holster rode his shoulder, he held his gun tight in his hand. Despite the fact that he had only been hiding out in the mountainous woods for two days and nights, he’d quickly learned that danger could come in the blink of an eye, a danger that might require the quick tic of his index finger on the trigger.

Twilight had long ago fallen but a near-full moon overhead worked as an additional enemy when it came to using the shield of darkness for cover.

As an ex-mercenary, Micah knew how to learn the terrain and use the weather to his advantage. He knew how to keep the reflection of the moonlight off his skin so as not to alert anyone to his presence. He could move through a bed of dry leaves and not make a sound. He could be wearing a black suit in a snowstorm and still figure out a way to become invisible.

The first twenty-four hours that he’d been in the woods he’d learned natural landmarks, studied pitfalls and figured out places he thought would make good hidey-holes if needed. He’d also come face-to-face with a moose, heard the distant call of a wolf and seen several elk and deer.

He now moved with the stealth of a big cat toward the rocky cliff he’d discovered the night before. As he crept low and light on his feet, he kept alert, his ears open for any alien sound that might not belong to the forest.

Despite the relative coolness of the night, a trickle of sweat trekked down the center of his back. During his thirty-eight years of life, Micah had faced a thousand life-threatening situations, the latest of which had been a bullet to his head that had sent him into a coma for months.

When he finally reached the rocky bluff he looked down at the lights dotting the little valley, the lights of the small town of Cold Plains, Wyoming. His brother Samuel’s town. Micah reached up and touched the scar, now barely discernible through his thick dark hair on the left side of his head, the place where Samuel’s henchman, Dax Roberts, had shot him while Micah had sat in his car. Dax had left him for dead.

Fortunately for Micah he hadn’t died, but had come out of a three-month coma with the fierce, driving need for revenge against the fraternal twin he’d always somehow known was a dangerous, narcissistic sociopath.

Unfortunately, Samuel was also charming and slick and powerful, making him a natural leader that people wanted to follow.

Five months ago Micah had been sitting in a smalltown Kansas coffee shop where he’d landed after his last mission for a little downtime when he’d seen a face almost identical to his own flash across the television mounted to the wall.

Stunned, he’d watched a news story unfold that told him his brother Samuel was being questioned by the FBI and local police in connection with the murders of five women found all across Wyoming. All the women had one thing in common: Cold Plains, the town where his wealthy, motivational-speaker brother wielded unbelievable influence and power.

Micah had immediately contacted the FBI and been put in touch with an agent named Hawk Bledsoe. The two had made arrangements to meet the next day but, before Micah could make that meeting, he’d caught the bullet to his head.

He’d been in the coma for ninety-three long days and it had taken him another two months to feel up to the task he knew he had to do—take out Samuel before he could destroy any more people and lives.

Which was why he’d spent these last two days and nights in the woods adjacent to Cold Plains.

Minutes before he’d made his way to the bluff, he’d met with his FBI contact, Hawk. Hawk had grown up in Cold Plains and after years of being away from his hometown had returned to discover that the rough-around-the-edges place where he’d grown up as son of the town drunk had transformed into something eerily perfect. A town run by a group of people who others referred to under their breaths as the Devotees and their leader, the movie-star handsome, but frightening and dangerous Samuel Grayson.

For the past two nights Micah and Hawk had met at dusk in the woods so Hawk could keep Micah apprised of what was going on in town and how the FBI investigation into Samuel’s misdeeds was progressing.

As he thought about everything Hawk had shared with him over the last two days, a dull throb began at the scar in the side of his head. He drew in several deep, long breaths, attempting to will away one of the killer migraines that the bullet had left behind.

He turned and started off the bluff, deciding to make his way down the mountain, closer to town. The only time he dared to do a little reconnaissance of the layout of the town was at night. He knew that if anyone caught sight of him it would be reported back to Samuel, and the last thing Micah wanted Samuel to know was that he was not only still alive but he was also here and working with the FBI to bring him down.

As always, he moved silently, knowing that the woods held many secrets. Just the night before, he’d stumbled upon two women amid the brush and trees. Darcy Craven had fainted at the sight of him, assuming he was his brother, but the woman with her, June Farrow, had recognized that he wasn’t Samuel and had taken him to the safe house located in an area called Hidden Valley.

The safe house and surrounding land, only accessible by hiking or helicopter, had become an important haven for those trying to escape Samuel and his minions. The woods weren’t just filled with those trying to escape the small town, but also dangerous hunters tracking them down.

Samuel had to be stopped. The words had reverberated in his head the moment he’d awakened from his coma and that thought was the driving force that got him up each morning, his final thought before falling asleep at night.

He froze as he thought he heard a sound someplace to his left. It sounded like a baby’s cry; there for just a moment and then gone as if stolen from the gentle night breeze. He remained still, his index finger ready to fire the gun gripped tight in his hand if necessary.

Micah wasn’t given to flights of fantasy. He knew he’d heard something. It was possible that it had been some sort of animal, but there was no way he intended to leave this area until he found the source of the sound.

There were hunters in the woods, but Micah was one, too, and if he managed to get to one of the men who worked for Samuel, he’d turn them over to the FBI to help them build a case against the man, hopefully a case that would avenge the deaths of the five women Micah knew in his heart his brother was responsible for killing.

The noise came again … a quick cry that was just as quickly gone. The darkness of the night seemed to press in around him as he targeted in on the area where he thought the sound had originated.

The moon slivered through the tree branches here and there, filtering down enough illumination to be both a little bit helpful and definitely dangerous. Micah kept to the dark shadows as he made his way toward the noise.

Somebody was in the woods, of that he was certain. He wouldn’t put it past Samuel to arrange for one of his minions to make the noises he’d heard, hoping to draw somebody out of the safe house, hoping that somebody could be taken into custody and then be forced to give up the location of the place of safety.

His heart took on the slow, steady beat of a trained soldier as he advanced forward. He’d just stepped around a tree when he saw her. Despite the fact that she was backed into the brush, her white-blond hair served as a beacon calling to the moonlight.

In an instant, he took in everything. Small and petite, her jeans and blouse appeared dirty and her hair was tangled with bits of leaves and brush caught in the curly length. She held a baby in a sling across her chest and a sharp, pointed stick raised in her hand.

If she thought that puny stick might be used as a weapon against him, she was sadly mistaken. Micah could have that stick out of her hand and broken in half before she ever saw him coming.

As he stepped close enough for her to see him, she looked up and gasped, her green eyes widening in abject terror.

“I won’t tell,” she exclaimed fervently. “Please don’t hurt me. I swear I won’t tell anyone what I saw. Just let me have my other son and we’ll go far away from here. I’ll never speak your name again.” Her voice cracked as she focused on his gun and he realized she believed he was Samuel.

Certainly it was dark enough that anyone could mistake him for his brother. When the brothers were together it was easy to see the subtle differences between them. Micah’s face was slightly thinner, his features more chiseled than those of his brother.

At the moment, Micah knew Samuel kept his hair cut neat and tidy while Micah’s long hair was tied back. He reached up and pulled the rawhide strip, allowing his hair to fall from its binds.

The woman gasped once again. “You aren’t him … but you look like him. Who are you?” Her voice still held fear as she dropped the stick and protectively clutched the baby closer to her chest.

“Who are you?” he countered. He wasn’t about to be taken in by a pale-haired angel with big green eyes in this evil place where angels probably couldn’t exist.

“I’m Olivia Conner, and this is my son Sam.” Tears filled her eyes. “I have another son, but he’s still in town. I couldn’t get to him before I ran away. I’ve heard rumors that there was a safe house somewhere, but I’ve been in the woods for two days and I can’t find it.” The tears spilled a little faster. “I need to get someplace safe, where Sam can get something to eat and I can go back into town and get my other son.”

Micah was unmoved by her tears and by her story. He knew how devious his brother could be and Micah would do everything possible to protect the location of the safe house. There was only one way to know for sure if she was one of Samuel’s “Devotees.”

“I need to see your right hip,” he said.

Once again her eyes opened wide, but it was obvious she knew why he’d made the demand. The people closest to Samuel, the people who were a part of his “cult” were all tattooed on their right hip with a letter D. Before he took her anywhere, he needed to see that she wasn’t wearing Samuel’s mark.

She pulled the sling over her neck and placed the baby on the ground where he sat up and gazed at Micah with a drooling grin. Olivia stood, dwarfed by Micah’s six feet two and as she looked up at him, he saw the fear that still simmered in the depths of her eyes.

Her slender fingers trembled as they unfastened her jeans and slipped them down low enough to expose one pale hip. Micah pulled a flashlight from his pocket and shone it on the area, wanting to be absolutely sure that he didn’t miss any tattoo that would mark her as one of Samuel’s closest followers.

Confident that there was nothing there, he motioned her to refasten her jeans. “You never told me who you are,” she said as she fastened the jeans and then pulled on the sling and the child back against her chest.

“And you never told me exactly how you came to be in the middle of the woods in the dead of the night with only one of your two children,” he countered.

In the light of the moon he saw her eyes darken and fear once again shine from the depths. She hesitated, as if unsure what to tell him, then finally released a weary sigh. “I was on my way to the child care center to pick up my three-year-old son Ethan when I saw something that shocked me … something that frightened me so badly I just ran. Please, I need help. We’re hungry. My baby is hungry.”

Micah knew he was a good judge of character and more than once that quality had saved his life. There was a genuine desperation in her eyes, and that, coupled with the absence of the telltale tattoo, allowed him to put away any misgivings about her credibility.

“What was it that you saw that scared you so bad you ran?” he asked.

She lifted her chin a notch and although her lips trembled slightly there was defiance in her stance as she straightened her shoulders and squared off to him. “I’m not saying anything more until I know who you are and what you intend to do with me.”

“I’m Micah Grayson, Samuel’s brother. I’m here to take him down, but right now I’m going to take you to the safe house. Stay close, move fast and keep quiet.” With these words he turned his back to her and began to move.

Samuel’s brother.

Those words were enough to shoot complete terror through Olivia’s heart. She had no idea if she could trust him or not, but she knew with certainty that she and her baby boy couldn’t survive much more time in the woods all alone without food or water. She hadn’t slept for two days and nights, afraid of each and every sound the forest made as she’d tried to find the safe house and stay hidden from danger at the same time.

At the moment she felt as if she had no other choice but to trust him and so she hurried after him, her heart pounding a million miles a minute.

The only thing that gave her comfort was that he was leading her in a direction deeper into the woods rather than back toward the little town she’d recently escaped.

She cuddled Sam to her chest, hoping he’d fall asleep. He’d been fussy off and on throughout the evening and she knew he was hungry and tired of the sling. She’d managed to stave off some of his hunger pangs over the last couple days with the snacks she always kept stored in her backpack, but earlier that evening she’d given him the last of the crackers and the last sip of juice.

Nights on the mountain weren’t kind at this time of year. Although a September day could be warm and pleasant, the nights turned cold and she hadn’t been prepared or equipped with the supplies or the survival skills she’d needed.

She had to trust Micah because she had no other choice. He was a daunting man, tall and with shoulders the size of a small county. In the moonlight his green eyes had looked icy cold—deadly—but she had run out of options.

He kept up a fast pace, moving through the woods like a shadow as she hurried to keep up with him. As he led her to a narrow crevice in the side of the mountain, she realized that if this really was the way to the safe house she would have never been able to find it on her own.

It felt like they had walked for miles in the narrow crevice where only the faint beam of his flashlight lit the way. He paused as they appeared to be at a dead end and once again her heart banged frantically. Had he brought her here to kill her? Was he really working for his brother or had he told the truth and was working against him?

Despite the appearance of a dead end, he twisted his body into a seemingly invisible space and as she followed, she realized they’d entered a cave tunnel. She could feel a faint breeze on her face and knew the end wasn’t far.

He paused once again, this time to pull a radio from his pocket. “It’s Micah. I’m coming in with two.”

“Copy,” a faint voice replied.

Micah dropped the radio back in his pocket and moved forward. Within moments they had left the cave and entered a small valley. The moonlight was brighter now and she could see a man standing in front of a rocky entrance of a half-hidden cave.

He was armed, but greeted Micah by name. “I told June you’re coming in,” he said.

“Thanks, Jesse.” Micah grabbed her by the elbow, his big hand warm on her skin.

They went through another small narrow passage and that opened into a huge cave that had been transformed into living quarters.

Olivia felt her mouth drop open as she took in her surroundings. It was like entering an alien world with huge ceilings and furnished comfortably with wood, bone, animal skins and whatever else the forest could yield.

“Follow me,” Micah said. “June will probably be in the kitchen area and we have questions for you.”

She had plenty of questions for him, too. She’d expected the rumored safe house to be a little cabin in the woods where people were spirited in and out of the area in the middle of the night.

But, as she heard the sound of laughter coming from someplace in the distance and followed Micah through the huge main room where the scent of something cooking wafted in the air, this place felt more like a thriving community than a pit stop on the way to safety.

Micah led her into a kitchen where the focal point of the room was a huge rough-hewn wooden table above which hung a chandelier fashioned from antlers.

A woman stood at a stove stirring what smelled like some sort of stew. She turned at the sight of them and offered Olivia a tentative smile. “Got the news there were two incoming, didn’t realize it was really one and a half.”

Olivia looked down at Sam, who had fallen asleep against her chest and fought the tears that pressed hot against her eyes.

“She says she’s been in the woods for two days,” Micah said as he gestured Olivia into a chair at the table.

“And you must be starving,” the tall, willowy, red-haired woman said as Olivia took off her backpack and sank into one of the chairs. Micah took the chair next to her and she was instantly aware of two things—he smelled like the forest, fresh, wild, yet clean and utterly male. And even though he looked amazingly like his brother, Samuel Grayson was really just a pale imitation of the handsome, hard-featured man seated to her right.

“I’m June Farrow,” the woman said as she set a bowl of hot stew in front of Olivia. “And I’d be more than happy to hold that sleeping little boy so you can eat.”

Olivia looked down at Sam and for a moment the last thing she wanted to do was relinquish possession of the one child she had with her. Once again as she thought of her missing three-year-old, her eyes welled up with tears that she desperately tried to control.

“What’s his name?” June asked softly.

“Sam. His name is Sam.” Olivia pulled the child from the front sling and handed him into June’s awaiting arms. She had to trust these people, she had no choice and the scent of the food cramped her empty stomach. She’d had nothing to eat for the last two days, afraid that if she took a single bite of anything that had been in her backpack, it might mean Sam going hungry.

Micah sat silently as she ate. She tried not to shovel the savory stew into her mouth like a wild animal. She had no idea what exactly was in the stew, but nothing had ever tasted so good.

When she was finished she looked at June. “Is there milk? I have a bottle for Sam in my backpack but he emptied it the first night we were in the woods.”

The area where she sat was warmer than it had been outside and with her belly full, all she really wanted to do was sleep. She’d only had unanticipated fitful dozes while in the forest; she’d been too afraid to allow herself any real sleep. The forest had been filled with critters, both animal and human.

“How about I get a bottle ready for Sam and put him down in the nursery?” June asked.

Panic once again clawed up Olivia’s throat. “Nursery? Where is that? What, exactly, is this place?”

“You’re safe here and nobody will hurt you or your son,” Micah finally spoke. “Why don’t you and June get the boy settled in for the night and then the three of us will talk some more.”

Olivia hesitated for a long moment, so many questions whirling around in her head, coupled with the crushing fear for the child she had left behind.

She finally got up from the table and rummaged in the now nearly empty backpack for the empty bottle. June handed Sam back to her and Olivia watched as the woman washed the bottle and then filled it with milk. “Come with me,” she then said.

The cave was a maze of rooms, some small, some much larger, some with wooden doors and some without. The temperature was slightly cooler away from the kitchen area, but not unpleasantly so.

They finally came to a medium-sized room that held several cribs and child-sized cots. “We have a couple three-year-olds, but they’re sleeping with their mommy in another room, so right now he’s the only little one we have here,” June said as she motioned for Olivia to place Sam in one of the cribs.

Sam awakened and as always gave his mother a beatific smile and then when he saw the bottle June held, his fingers worked in a gimme fashion. “Bot,” he exclaimed.

June smiled and gave him the bottle and as he began to drink it, his eyes drifted closed once again. The two women backed out of the nursery and June showed her the room next door. “We’ll put you in here, that way you can hear if he needs anything throughout the night.”

This area was small, with a door and a double bed covered with what appeared to be clean sheets and a lightweight blanket. A small rustic wooden table sat next to the bed with an oil lantern burning to light the room. “I’m afraid it isn’t exactly the Ritz, but we all manage.”

“It’s fine,” Olivia replied, still feeling as if she’d entered a surreal world she didn’t quite understand.

“We’d better get back to Micah. He’s probably chewing off his own arm waiting to ask you some questions.”

When they headed to the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Micah was seated where he’d been when they had left, but three cups of coffee were on the table. “I wasn’t sure how you drank yours,” he said to Olivia.

“Black is fine.” She curled her fingers around the warmth of the mug and then looked at June. “What is this place and what are all of you doing here?”

“The cave was built a long time ago by an architect who went crazy and became an eccentric survivalist—decided to prepare for the end of the world. He was something of a genius when it came to using the natural resources accessible in the mountains. Rumor has it that he died when he’d finished construction and it was left to a distant relative of his. About five years ago, when we realized what was happening in Cold Plains, we knew we’d need a place of safety so we contacted the owner who told us to do whatever we wanted with it. We did a little refurbishing to make it once again livable and here we are,” June explained.

Olivia was aware of Micah’s dark gaze lingering on her, but she wasn’t finished getting answers from June. “So, this is about an investigation of some sort? Are you a police officer of some kind?”

June smiled. “Heavens no. I’m just a widow who, years ago, lost my family to a cult and now I’ve made it my life’s mission running safe houses for members who leave and need a place to hide and to be deprogrammed.”

“A cult? But Cold Plains is just a beautiful small town, a wonderful place to raise children. It’s a place of health and prosperity.” She frowned, recognizing she was parroting Samuel’s words.

She tried not to think about the fact that she’d planned on getting the D tattoo on her hip before she left Cold Plains and that she’d been completely devoted to Samuel Grayson—until that moment two nights ago when everything she’d believed about the man had exploded apart.

“It’s definitely a cult and it’s run by a very dangerous man,” Micah said.

“Your brother.”

He nodded and his green eyes transformed to a darker shade like the deepest forest shadows.

“You look a lot like him,” she replied.

“An unfortunate accident of genes. We’re fraternal twins. I’m here working with the FBI to bring down Samuel and all his cult enforcers.”

Olivia stared first at June and then back at Micah, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that the perfect little town she’d called home was actually run by a group of evil “cult” members. “It’s a beautiful town. Everything shines with prosperity and newness. They’re even drawing in celebrities and big investors. I lived in a charming little house and had a great job. My children were happy and had the best health care available.” Once again she was aware that she was saying what she’d been told, what had been almost a mantra of the townspeople who followed Samuel’s teachings.

Still, she didn’t need to be deprogrammed by anyone. Her break with anything to do with Samuel and his messages and his way of life had happened in a single heart-stopping instant.

“So, what are you doing here? Why were you hiding out in the woods looking for the safe house?” Micah asked.

Olivia’s heart began to beat an unsteady rhythm as she remembered what had happened, what she’d seen two nights before. “I worked at the Community Center as a secretary. That day Sam had been fussy so I’d kept him with me at work. Samuel never minded if I needed to have him with me. As usual Ethan, my three-year-old, had gone to the Cold Plains Day Care.”

She took a sip of her coffee, hoping the warmth would heat the icy chill that had suddenly gripped her heart. “I worked a little later than usual, so it was dark when I finally left the Community Center. The day care wasn’t far away and I took off walking, knowing that Ethan would be eager to see me and his little brother after such a long day.”

Emotion once again pressed tight in her chest, rising up the back of her throat, but she swallowed hard, needing to get through this before she allowed herself to completely fall apart.

She took another sip of the strong coffee as Micah and June waited patiently for her to continue. She set the cup back on the table, aware that her fingers were trembling.

“There was an alley adjacent to the street,” she continued. “I saw Samuel and another man standing there talking and I didn’t really think too much about it. They didn’t look angry or upset, but as the man turned to leave, Samuel pulled a gun and shot him in the back of his head. There was no sound. He must have used a silencer, but as the man fell to the ground, I ran.”

She had run like the wind, with panic stealing away all rational thought. Get away. Get away, that had been her only thought. She’d dashed away, praying that Samuel hadn’t seen her, fearing not just for her own life but for Sam’s life, too.

“Did Samuel see you?” Micah asked as he leaned forward.

A trembling began in the very center of her very soul. “I don’t know. I didn’t stick around to find out. I just ran, with no thought, with no particular plan in mind. I’d heard rumors that there was a safe house someplace up the mountain but I had no idea how difficult it might be to find. I went for Ethan, but the day care was dark, empty, and I didn’t have time to locate him. I was afraid that if Samuel had seen me, I’d never make it to my son. And I’d be putting Sam in danger, as well.”

“You need to give this information to Hawk,” Micah said. “An eyewitness account to murder is just what we need to get Samuel into custody.”

“Who is Hawk?” Olivia asked.

“Hawk Bledsoe. He’s a native from Cold Plains but he’s now an FBI agent working on the case.”

“And what exactly is the case?” Confusion coupled with exhaustion made everything difficult to comprehend for her at the moment.

“The main investigation is into the killing of five women. We believe Samuel is responsible for their murders.”

Olivia gasped and shot a hand to her head as an ache began to pound at her temples. She’d heard some vague rumors, but she hadn’t believed any of them. Still, as terrible as it sounded, at the moment she didn’t want to hear about murdered women. She didn’t want to hear about cults and Samuel.

She dropped her hand back to the table and looked Micah in his cold, dark green eyes. She raised her chin, refusing to be intimidated by him and firm in the decision she’d just made. “I’m not talking to anyone until I get my son back.”

And then to her horror she burst into tears.

Chapter 2

“Can we trust her?” Hawk asked Micah an hour after Micah had radioed for Hawk to see him. The two stood in their meeting place, a small rocky area next to the stream that eventually made its way into Cold Plains where it became Fog Creek. There was a tree nearby that had been scarred by a lightning strike at some point in the distant past.

Fog Creek was important to Samuel. His cohorts bottled the creek water and sold it to everyone who attended Samuel’s many seminars. It was rumored to have magical healing properties, but Micah knew the only thing it really did was line his brother’s pockets.

“She seems like the real deal,” Micah said as he thought of the pretty blonde. Once June had led her away from the kitchen to show her the shower facility and to find some clean clothes for her to wear, he’d taken off to meet Hawk and let him know this latest development.

Hawk’s brown eyes narrowed as he quickly raked a hand through his sandy-colored hair. “It would be just like him, you know—to use a woman and a child to try to find the whereabouts of the safe house.”

“Believe me, that thought crossed my mind,” Micah replied drily. “But her story had a ring of truth and she seemed genuinely traumatized.” He quickly told Micah what Olivia had told them about seeing Samuel shoot the man in the alley. “She freaked and she ran and, in her terror, she had to leave behind one of her kids who was no longer at day care.”

“A shot to the back of the man’s head.” Hawk leaned against the tree behind him. “Sound familiar?”

“Too damned familiar,” Micah replied darkly. They both knew that Samuel’s favorite form of murder was a bullet to the back of the head; clean, cold and efficient. Unfortunately, knowing it and proving it were two different things. And so far, Samuel had managed to evade all efforts to tie him personally to anything nefarious that was happening in the town.

“Is it possible Samuel kept one of her kids as leverage and then sent her out here to spy on us?” Hawk asked.

“You know with Samuel anything is possible,” Micah replied, his stomach churning at the possibility.

“I’ll check her out and if she is the real deal, then a statement from her would go a long way in helping us build our case against Samuel,” Hawk said.

“She already told me she isn’t talking to anyone official until she gets her other son back.”

“Are you sure there really is another son?” Hawk’s distrust was warranted. If there was one thing Micah had quickly learned in his brief time working with the FBI, it was that nobody in the town of Cold Plains could be trusted.

“The only thing I’m sure of at the moment is that she won’t be left alone until we’re sure we can trust her. June or one of the others won’t let her out of their sight,” Micah replied.

“I’ll do a little snooping around in town and see if I can definitely confirm her identity and her story,” Hawk replied as he shoved himself off the tree where he’d been leaning. “It shouldn’t be too hard to find out if the secretary for the Community Center has suddenly disappeared and left one of her kids behind, although it might be more difficult to identify who Samuel shot.”

“And it’s a sure bet that if Samuel didn’t know she saw what he did, he’ll definitely wonder what drove her away from town without Ethan and he’ll be frantic to find her.” Micah felt the muscles in his jaw tighten as he thought of his brother, who had grown more and more dangerous with each passing day, especially since feeling the pressure of the investigation.

If Olivia Conner was truly who and what she said she was, then if Samuel found her, she would probably wind up like the other five dead women … with a bullet in the back of her head.

Five murdered women and any number of other deaths, all attributed to Samuel and his cult henchmen. Devotees, that’s what Samuel called the people who followed him and his teachings like blind sheep. Some of them were simply deluded, others desperate to belong to something bigger than themselves, but there were a handful of Samuel’s closest followers who were simply evil at their very hearts and souls.

“I’ll check in with you in the morning, let you know what I’ve found out,” Hawk said and a moment later he’d disappeared into the darkness.

Micah remained where he stood, the memory of one particular woman filling his head. He rarely allowed himself to go back in time to when he’d been in high school and ridiculously in love with Johanna Tate.

Even now after all these years he could still remember the vanilla scent of her straight black hair and the long lashes that fringed her pale brown eyes. He still remembered the sound of her laughter, a melodious sound that had melted his heart the first time he’d heard it.

He’d loved her with all the lust and passion that a teenage boy could own. At the time he’d thought her the woman he’d marry and build a family with, the one who would be at his side throughout his life.

Unfortunately, she’d only been his for a brief period of time before Samuel had seduced her away from him. Even after all these years Micah still felt the pain, the rage, of what his brother had done.

He’d seduced her, brought her to Cold Plains where she had been rumored to be Samuel’s main girlfriend, and then she’d been killed with a bullet to the back of her head, her body found eighty miles away in Eden, Wyoming.

Despite the distance between Samuel and where her body had been found, Micah knew in his gut that his brother was responsible for her death.

He now headed back to the safe house, a burning in the pit of his stomach as he tried not to think about how many other lives his brother had destroyed.

As he drew closer to the house, his thoughts turned to another woman, one with eyes the color of the forest and hair like spun silk, a woman who had been prepared to attack him with a sharp stick as she’d huddled in the brush with her son.

Olivia Conner. Even with the dirt on her face and leaves in her hair, holding a baby in one arm and a makeshift weapon in the other, Micah had, on some base level, registered the fact that she was an extremely attractive woman. He was vaguely surprised that he’d even noticed. It had been a very long time since a woman had appeared on his radar in any fashion.

At the moment she was potentially an eyewitness to a murder that Samuel had committed. If he could convince her to talk to one of the FBI agents working the case, then her statement might prove invaluable in breaking everything wide open.

Samuel had always been so careful. It was rare for him to get his own hands dirty but, in Olivia Conner, he’d apparently unknowingly allowed an eyewitness to get away. Micah knew the more Samuel recognized a loss of control, the more dangerous he became.

The best thing for everyone was for Olivia to speak to the authorities and give them a statement, and then be spirited away from here and into some sort of protective custody far away from Cold Plains.

It was this thought that filled his head as he slipped back into the cave where June and two other women were seated at the rough-hewn table. Olivia wasn’t one of them.

“She took a shower and then went to bed,” June said before he could ask. “The poor thing was absolutely exhausted after being in the woods for two nights all alone with her baby.”

Micah poured himself a cup of coffee and then joined them at the table. “Hawk is planning on checking out her story. We want to make sure she really is who she says she is.”

“Her little boy is a doll. I peeked in on him when I heard they’d arrived,” Darcy Craven said.

As always when Micah looked at Darcy with her beautiful long, dark hair and blue eyes, he felt a strange sense of familiarity. Her eyes were those of a woman he’d known a long time ago in his hometown, but then again he couldn’t imagine what this young woman would have to do with anyone from his past.

He knew little about Darcy, only that she’d come to Cold Plains seeking news of a mother she’d never known and had developed a romance with Rafe Black, a new doctor in town.

Rafe had shown up in town because the fourth murder victim, Abby Michaels, an old girlfriend of his, had contacted him to tell him he was the father of her three-month-old baby boy. Abby’s body had been found in a wooded area in Laramie, fifty miles away from Cold Plains Day Care Center, where she’d worked as a teacher’s aide. The baby, now an almost nine-month-old named Devin, had been missing since her disappearance.

A month earlier a little boy had been found by police officer Ford McCall with a note stating that he was Devin Black and needed to be reunited with his father. According to what Micah had heard, Rafe believed he’d finally had a happy ending, not only with his son found but also with a romantic relationship with Darcy.

But, the happy ending had been short-lived. The baby boy had been kidnapped by a man claiming to be the real child’s father. A birthmark on the boy had confirmed it. He had said he’d been forced by Samuel and Bo Fargo, the chief of police and Samuel’s right-hand man, to give up the boy for the good of the community. He’d done what he’d been told, but couldn’t live with his actions.

He’d stolen the baby back from Rafe, leaving the doctor to wonder about the whereabouts of his own son. The man had refused to make any official statements indicting either Samuel or Bo Fargo in the scheme and had disappeared from town soon after.

Even though he and Darcy were still very much in love, Rafe had insisted Darcy go to the safe house until his son could be found again.

There were so many players in this deadly game, and both June and Hawk had spent a lot of time trying to fill Micah in on everything that had been happening both in the town of Cold Plains and in his brother’s life.

At night Micah’s head spun as he tried to put names with people and figure out who was on their side and who was one of Samuel’s Devotees. There were so many people in town that nobody knew exactly where they landed in the grand scheme of things—if they were Samuel’s people or not.

In the brief time he’d been in the safe house, Micah had recognized that it was basically a clearinghouse where June helped deprogram those who needed it and the FBI aided in relocating victims to new lives. The people were in transition and most didn’t stay too long, but rather were eager to get as far away from Samuel and Cold Plains, Wyoming, as quickly as possible.

He now leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee, his thoughts on the newest members of the house. “If she’ll talk to Hawk and some of the other FBI agents, then we could potentially get an arrest warrant for Samuel for the murder she witnessed,” he said. “We’d have a reason to get inside his house, maybe find some real concrete evidence to put him away forever.”

“I wouldn’t push her too hard,” June warned. “She seemed pretty fragile.”

“This whole situation is fragile,” Micah replied drily. “We have five murdered woman that were all tied in one way or another to Cold Plains and Samuel. We have enough additional dead bodies to fill an entire cemetery.”

“And missing children and people with disabilities who seem to have vanished into midair,” Darcy added, her hauntingly blue eyes darkening.

Micah frowned and took a sip of his coffee. Aside from the murdered women, this was one of the most disturbing things about this case. The streets were filled with only attractive, robust people seemingly not only physically fit but mentally well. There was no sickness, no imperfections of any kind and those who showed signs of either disappeared and were never seen again.

“There are rumors that those people are held in secret rooms or basements, prisoners for the good of the town. The worst part is the children,” Darcy said. “I think we’ve all heard the rumors of children who are born with slight ‘defects’ or deemed unworthy in some way and are hidden away someplace in town and eventually adopted out.”

Her face displayed a myriad of emotions and Micah suspected she was thinking of Rafe Black’s missing son. Was he hidden in some secret location in town or had he already been adopted out by Samuel for a huge fee to a couple in another state, another country, desperate for a child?

“Of course, we don’t have to worry about anything now that the FBI have arrested some of Samuel’s henchmen and they’ve confessed to the murders of some of the women,” June said sarcastically.

Micah snorted. “They might have confessed to being the ones who actually pulled the triggers, but they still refuse to give up Samuel as the brains. Until we can cut off the head of the snake, nobody is safe and we’ll never know for sure who in town we can trust.” He knew that a man and a woman had been arrested by the FBI and had confessed to some of the murders of the women, but they’d refused to name the man who had given them the orders to commit the crimes.

Once again his thoughts turned to the pretty blonde now sleeping in the depths of the large cave. She was the key. She had the kind of solid information that could put Samuel behind bars.

All he had to do was figure out a way to force her to do the right thing.

Olivia awakened slowly, her brain fuzzy with residual dreams of her childhood. It had not been a particularly good upbringing and the dreams hadn’t been pleasant ones.

She’d grown up in a trailer park with her sickly mother who liked to drink. Olivia never knew if her mother was sick because she drank, or drank because she was sick. Her main memories of her youth were of too little food, too little heat and far too much responsibility.

Her mother died when she was twenty-two and Olivia had known two things: she wanted to get as far away from the trailer park as possible and she was desperate to build a different kind of life for herself.

Two children later, abandoned by her boyfriend on Main Street in Cold Plains, Olivia had embraced the town and thought she’d finally come home.

As she thought of that moment in the alley when she’d watched the man she’d believed was her salvation and mentor cold-bloodedly shoot the man in the alley, she had gasped and sat straight up, disoriented for a moment as she looked around.

The cave walls in this room were particularly smooth with a small outcropping of rock that made a natural stone bench against one wall. The small oil-burning lamp still flickered, creating a pool of illumination that allowed her to maneuver easily through the room.

Sam!

Thoughts of her youngest son shot her off the bed. She’d slept in the clothes June had graciously provided her, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt that was a tad too small across her full breasts.

She knew her hair was probably in wild disarray, but the only thing that mattered at the moment was seeing Sam’s smiling face, assuring herself that he was okay.

She couldn’t even think about her three-year-old still someplace in Cold Plains. Ethan would probably be scared, needing his mommy and if she dwelled on that thought for too long she’d come completely undone. She had to keep it together, for Sam’s sake … for Ethan’s sake.

Racing into the room where she’d placed Sam in a crib the night before, she stopped short in the doorway as she saw that the crib was empty. She whirled around, running wildly down a corridor, wondering if perhaps she’d trusted the wrong people after all.

As she wound around corners and ran into blind passageways, her heart banged discordantly, making her half-breathless as she felt like Alice suddenly falling down a rabbit hole.

She whirled around one corner and slammed into a brick wall. The wall was Micah Grayson’s hard, muscled chest. “Whoa,” he said and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders.

“Where’s my son? Where’s Sam?” she asked.

He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “I just saw him in the kitchen eating some breakfast.”

A shudder of relief swept through her. “Where’s the kitchen? This place is like a maze.”

He pointed down the nearest passageway. “Go straight and take the left turn. You’ll be in the kitchen.”

As her panic ebbed, she once again noticed that Micah Grayson wasn’t just hard and dangerous looking, but also handsome and sexy in a way that might have affected her under different circumstances.

“Thanks,” she said and started to move past him, but he reached out and grabbed her arm before she could scurry away.

“I’d like to speak with you later … after you get some breakfast and settle in.” His hand was big … weighty on her forearm.

She frowned. She couldn’t imagine what he might want to talk to her about and, if she were perfectly honest with herself, she would admit that something about him unsettled her more than a little bit. All she really wanted to do was make sure Sam was safe and then figure out some sort of plan to return to Cold Plains and retrieve Ethan.

She wasn’t interested in whatever investigation they were conducting in the town. She just wanted to have her children safe and with her and then she’d go from there.

“Olivia?”

Her name sounded strange on his lips, reminding her that she knew nothing about this man, these people and the touch of his big hand on her arm felt too warm, oddly intimate.

She pulled away from him and took a step backward. “Obviously I’m not going anyplace but the kitchen for the time being. You can find me there after breakfast.”

This time when she turned to walk away he didn’t stop her although she imagined she could feel his piercing green eyes lingering on her back.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the kitchen where June sat at the table with her coffee and Sam was locked into a high chair happily smooshing scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Mama!” he exclaimed with a happy eggy grin as she entered the room.

“Sammy,” she replied and planted a kiss on the top of his forehead. She offered a tentative smile to June. “I had a moment of panic when I woke up and didn’t find him in his crib.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. He woke up earlier and you were still sleeping so soundly, so I figured I’d get him up and change his diaper and see about a little breakfast for him.” June smiled sympathetically. “I knew you were exhausted from your time hiding out so I hated to wake you when he got up.”

“Thank you for taking care of him,” Olivia said as she sank down at the table. She still felt as if she’d entered some strange subterranean world filled with people in crisis. She was in crisis. There was a simmering anxiety inside her that threatened to burst into fullblown panic, but she used every ounce of her ability in an attempt to hold herself together.

“Coffee?” June asked as she rose from the table.

“I can get it,” Olivia replied. “You don’t have to wait on me.”

“Nonsense,” June replied and waved Olivia back into the chair. “As an official member of the household, you get one day of acclimating yourself before we assign you any duties. Scrambled eggs?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she replied, feeling guilty, but yet oddly relieved that for the moment somebody else was in charge.

What she wanted more than anything was to eat breakfast, regain her strength and have a chance to formulate some sort of a plan to get Ethan out of Cold Plains. Unfortunately, part of the problem was she wasn’t sure where he would be. The last time she’d seen him had been when she’d left him at the Cold Plains Day Care Center to go to work in the Community Center. But when she hadn’t returned to get him after normal work hours that day, he was simply gone.

Her stomach cramped with anxiety but she forced a smile of gratitude as June set a cup of steaming coffee in front of her. “How many people are staying here?” she asked as she waited for the coffee to cool a little bit.

“We have between eight and ten people at any one time,” June said as she broke a couple eggs into a small bowl. “The numbers are constantly in flux, but right now we have Darcy, sometimes here and sometimes at her new boyfriend’s. And then there’s Lacy Matthews and her three-year-old twins and, of course, Micah.”

“I see,” Olivia said.

“And also there’s Jesse Grainger.”

June’s cheeks pinkened slightly as she poured the eggs into an awaiting skillet. “Jesse was beaten and left for dead in the woods a month ago. His brother is one of Samuel’s followers and he’s hoping to be able to get him out of town, but Jesse has to be careful because Samuel assumes he’s dead.” There was something in June’s voice when she said Jesse’s name that indicated to Olivia that he might just be more to her than a man she had rescued from death.

“I know Lacy,” Olivia said. “She works at the Cold Plains Coffee Shop. I often went in there to get a cup of coffee on my way to work at the Community Center.”

“She finally decided to take her girls and run. Samuel was pressing to make the coffee shop a place that wouldn’t serve anyone who wasn’t a Devotee and Lacy was determined that anyone who came in was welcome to buy a coffee whether they followed Samuel’s teachings or not,” June explained.

By this time June was finished making Olivia her eggs and toast and Sam was using his sippy cup to drink a glass of milk. They fell silent for a few minutes and Olivia once again found herself going back in time, terrified by how close she’d come to falling completely and irrevocably beneath Samuel’s spell.

If she hadn’t seen Samuel murder that man with her own eyes, then perhaps today would have been the day she got her official tattoo on her hip, proclaiming her a true believer in Samuel and the philosophies he espoused. She would have turned a deaf ear to all the whispers about unsavory things going on in the town, like so many of Samuel’s other true believers.

All she’d ever wanted was a place where she felt like she belonged and she’d thought she’d found it in Cold Plains, but she’d been sucked into the vortex of an evil storm named Samuel. The only thing she could focus on now was the fact that she and Sam had escaped, but she’d been forced to leave behind her precious Ethan.

She wrapped her fingers around the warmth of the coffee mug in an effort to combat the icy chill that threatened to shiver through her as she thought of her son. Hopefully Samuel hadn’t seen her. She had no idea what anyone in town would think about her sudden disappearance, but surely somebody was taking good care of Ethan.

She had to believe that to be true and she had to figure out a way to somehow get him back where he belonged, in the safety of her loving arms.

As she finished her breakfast, Darcy entered the kitchen and bid them all good morning. As Olivia got a good look at the young, pretty woman, she was startled to realize that Darcy had a lot of the same features as Micah and Samuel. Of course her bright blue eyes were in opposition to their green ones, but she had the same cast to her chin, the same strong, bold features.

Maybe Olivia was just imagining things, dreading whatever it was that Micah thought they had to talk about. She didn’t want to think about the deep betrayal she felt where Samuel was concerned. She didn’t want to discuss building a case against him. All she wanted was to get her son back and figure out where her life went from here.

When she had finished eating, she carried her dishes to the sink and washed them as June explained that most of their water came through a filtering system from the creek that ran nearby. Electricity was provided by either solar energy or a generator that they preferred not to run unless absolutely necessary. Throughout many of the rooms, they depended on oil lanterns and candles to conserve energy.

As Micah sauntered into the room, a spark of energy surged up inside her and she couldn’t tell if it was positive or negative. There had been no man in her life since long before Sam’s birth. Maybe it was only natural that she’d respond to a hot male who had brought her to safety.

She walked over to Sam, who raised his arms to be lifted from the high chair. As she pulled him out, he snuggled against her chest with a happy sigh.

“You want to take a walk with me?” Micah asked, his gaze enigmatic.

“Okay.” She tried to ignore the pound of her heart as she followed him out of the kitchen. She reminded herself she had nothing to fear from him. He’d found her in the forest and brought her here to safety. He’d given her no real reason not to trust him … at least not yet.

Still her distrust of men in general ran deep. It had begun with her absent father, a man she had never known, and continued with Jeff Winfry, the man who had fathered Sam and Ethan. He’d promised to love her, to marry her and settle down as a family. She’d met him just after her mother’s death and even though she’d known he wasn’t Mr. Perfect, she’d believed herself in love.

There had been no settling down. Jeff had dragged her and the children from one small town to another, working odd jobs that barely kept them fed and finally he’d dumped her and the kids just outside of Cold Plains, telling her his future just didn’t include a family. Her father, Jeff and then Samuel. She was determined not to give her trust so easily again.

Micah Grayson was just as formidable from the back as he was from the front, she thought as she followed him. His shoulders were broad, his hips slim and she had to hurry to keep up with his long-legged gait.

She gasped in surprise as he opened a door and they stepped outside into the bright sunshine. They were in a small clearing filled with a babbling brook on one side and a healthy looking vegetable and herb garden on the other.

“What a beautiful place,” she exclaimed.

He nodded and motioned her to a fallen tree trunk that had been fashioned into a bench. “According to June, they try to be as self-sustaining as possible here. So, she grows what she can and depends on some of us to provide the other necessities from neighboring towns.”

She sat next to him on the bench and placed Sam on the grass at her feet where he immediately became enchanted with a leaf that had fallen from one of the nearby trees.

“Aren’t you all afraid somebody might see this place?” she asked.

Micah shook his head, his dark hair gleaming in the sunshine. “We’re sitting in a small valley between two mountains.” He pointed to the jagged edge of the range that surrounded them. “The only way to get here is through the cave and you saw last night how difficult it was to find.”

Although they sat several inches apart, despite the scent of the fresh herbs in the air, she could smell him, that woodsy, clean male scent that curled a ball of tension in her stomach.

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked, eager to get this conversation over with and away from the man who seemed to both draw her and scare her just a little bit.

“I had your story checked out by a friend of mine, Hawk, the FBI agent. One of many trying to build a case against Samuel for the murders of those five women, among other things.” He stretched his long legs out before him, appearing to be completely at ease.

“And what did he discover?” In contrast, she was a bundle of nerves and wanted to curl into herself to escape everything that had happened in the past two days.

“That you are what you say you are.” His green eyes drifted downward, making her suddenly far too conscious of how tightly her borrowed T-shirt pulled across her breasts. She hunched her shoulders forward slightly.

His gaze lingered there for just a second and then snapped back up to meet her eyes. “You worked as a secretary in the Community Center, meaning you obviously worked closely with Samuel. You might have some valuable information that could help all of us.”

“So, basically what you’re saying is that you would like me to help you and your FBI friends.” She held his gaze intently. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you if you’ll get my son out of Cold Plains and back safely here with me. But, until that happens, I have nothing more to say to you.”

His stare grew harder, colder but she refused to look away. If he wanted to use her, then she had no qualms about using him first.

Samuel Grayson stood at the window in the large meeting room in the Community Center where an hour before he’d finished one of his nightly seminars. Although he’d given a rousing speech about love of community and building good lives here, the crowd had been smaller than usual and the sales of the healing tonic water after the meeting had been pathetic.

You’re losing control, a little voice whispered inside his head. “No,” he said aloud. It was just growing pains and the result of the investigation he knew was taking place. People were on edge because of the FBI presence in and around town, and that meant he’d just have to work harder to assure them that he had things under control.

Dammit, he’d thought he’d removed any danger to himself and his plans when he’d sent Dax Roberts, one of his most trusted men, to kill his brother. He’d known that if Micah had caught word of the investigations into the murders he wouldn’t be able to keep his nose out of things. It had been easier to take him out before he became a problem.

Unfortunately, he knew he was under investigation for the murders of those women. He knew there were people in his own town working against him and it was getting more and more difficult to tell who could and couldn’t be trusted.

His remaining henchmen—those not already in jail—had been working overtime, taking out the people who were overtly working against him, those who had taken a path in direct opposition of him.

He felt as if the walls of the town were slowly closing in on him and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. He’d worked too hard and too long to be brought down by anyone. This was his town and he deserved all the power and money that had come along with it. He wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from him.

He turned from the window, and as he walked out of the meeting room, he paused and stared at the desk where Olivia Conner usually sat.

Yet another mystery, he thought. She’d simply vanished into thin air, leaving behind one of her children. He had no idea what had happened to her, had no idea if she was dead or alive. He’d put the child with the other one, hidden away in a secured location until he could find out what had happened to Olivia.

He’d had a couple of his men check her house and they had reported back that nothing seemed to be missing—no clothes and no baby items. There had been a Crock-Pot plugged in with what appeared to be Swiss steak charred to a crisp. They’d unplugged the pot but had touched nothing else.

It was possible she’d been grabbed off the street by the FBI because of her position at the Community Center. The joke would be on them. She knew nothing except how to schedule therapy sessions for him with the locals or renting out the space in the basement that was used for weddings and celebrations.

They’d get nothing from her that could harm him. She’d been simply the office help, although he’d been close to turning her completely, and once that happened he wouldn’t have minded a little intimate time with her. She’d been a hot little number despite her two brats.

Whatever had happened to her, it had appeared she’d had every intention of returning home the day that she had disappeared. If he didn’t hear from her soon, he would make the appropriate plans for Ethan. He would fetch a lot of money, a handsome little boy in perfect health. Just this thought alone made him feel more in control.

He was going to be fine. The people against him would eventually drift away and he would continue his work here in Cold Plains. He wouldn’t be satisfied until everyone in town sported the small D tattoo on their hip that marked them as his.

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