I turned with my brow furrowed. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s a shell corporation. One that’s been on our radar as part of the Shadows. It’s worth millions, probably more.”
“So even stopping the production at the Northern Light won’t stop the money?”
“It will stop the influx of new money. There’s already a good amount out there. We just need to prove that it was obtained illegally. Hell, it could make a small dent in the national debt.”
“Send agents to that house now.”
While Agent Adler dialed, Brady switched to a time-lapsed feed of the house. With the time stamp reading 03:04:50, another SUV pulled up to the house. A man and woman got out and went into the house. I looked at my watch. That had been about an hour ago. By the time Special Agent Adler had given the order to go to the house, Brady had the screen on the live feed.
Less than two minutes after the order was given, three people came out of the house and got into the new SUV. It was the new man and woman plus Richards.
“Shit! What the fuck just happened?”
Special Agent Adler’s eyes narrowed. “Shit!”
“There must be agents at the mansion. Get someone there now! Catch him!” I was screaming orders at men, one of whom was my superior.
Brady followed the SUV through the streets of the neighborhood; however, once the SUV left the gates of the subdivision, we lost the feed.
“I gave them the license number. We need to sit tight,” Brady said.
“Please.” I turned to Agent Adler. “I need to be on a plane to Detroit.”
Special Agent Adler nodded. “I’m going with you.”
CHAPTER 38
Stella
Thick fog penetrated my thoughts, its tentacles clawing at my memories. It wasn’t new, my mind knew its tricks. I’d played this game before. Steel shutters of internal defenses snapped shut and barricades went up. From somewhere deep I knew to stop the invasion. Its deception was difficult to fight. There was a tunnel and a light. The brightness enticed, pulled me closer, and my battered, exhausted body longed to surrender.
The promise of reprieve it offered was real. All I needed to do was lift the shutters and allow the fog to infiltrate. My reward would be rest and time to heal. The appeal grew as pain from my back and cramping from my midsection remained on my side of the barricades. If only I could open them a little, enough to allow the fog to enter, it would save me from the pain.
My desire grew . . . maybe I could allow just a little . . .
CHAPTER 39
Jacoby
Pictures from the home in Bloomfield Hills came via the agents’ cell phones as Adler and I were driven back to the airport. I lost any semblance of professionalism as Sara’s picture materialized.
She was there and she was alive, unconscious and alone in the house.
I didn’t know why Richards had left her, but at that moment I didn’t care. My cheeks dampened as tears of relief freely flowed. I wiped them away, watching as Agent Adler’s iPad continued the slide show of images. As they materialized, I saw her bandaged eyes and my gut twisted. Thankfully, even though her eyes were once again bandaged, I didn’t see injuries like those of the other women at the Eastern Light. What I did see, what made my heart skip a beat, was the bag of clear liquid hanging from the pole near her bed.
“Tell them to disconnect the medicine, immediately,” I said, my body shaking with fear. That motherfucker had told me he’d try to keep her off the medicine. Now there it was.
“But Jacoby, you don’t know what it is—”
“I do.” My volume grew. “I don’t know the name of it, but it’s a memory suppressant. I’ve seen it attached to more women than I want to admit. Tell them to disconnect it immediately.”
Agent Adler handed me the phone. “Here, you’re not only an agent, you’re her husband. You tell them.”
“Agent?” I said, speaking to someone in Bloomfield Hills.
“Yes, sir, this is Agent Billings.”
“Billings, disconnect the medicine immediately.”
“Sir, by what authority . . .”
“I’m Agent Jacoby McAlister.” My name had made the rounds. They all knew I was the one who’d been inside The Light.
“Sir, it’s an honor—”
“Disconnect the medicine. As soon as the paramedics get there, have them start her on IV fluids. We need to dilute the medication in her system. Make certain that they only give her clear fluids. How is she?”
“She’s unconscious and, well . . .”
“Tell me, Agent.”
“Sir, her eyes are covered, but there appears to be bruising around one eye that has drifted down her cheek. I’d assume it’s not new.”
I shook my head. “It’s not. She was struck on Friday. Is there anything else?”
“We haven’t tried to move her, but there’s blood on her dress.” He gasped.
“What?”
“I haven’t removed her dress.”
“Don’t!”
“Sir, her back is bloody. I’d wager to guess she’s been whipped.”
My teeth clenched together as rage surged through my veins. I was going to kill Richards when I saw him. The asshole got all up in arms over a blackened eye and he whipped her! “Get her to the hospital. I want an agent beside her every minute. Do not let anyone prescribe any medication. There’s a possibility that she’s pregnant.”
“Yes, sir, but . . .”
“What is it?”
“I’m not a doctor, but she’s bleeding, and not just from her back.”
My chest became tight. “Get her to the hospital. Make sure she’s safe. That’s all that matters.”
When the line was disconnected I handed the phone back to Adler and turned toward the window. The sun was rising in Anchorage, creating long shadows over the streets as we neared the airport.
As I fought the overwhelming sadness of the loss of something I hadn’t realized I wanted, I tried to concentrate on the positive. Sara was alive. I cleared my throat. “What about Richards?” I asked.
“We lost them,” Adler replied. “We found the SUV abandoned on Highway 1, but they’re gone. We’re staking out his house in Brush Park as well as the one in Bloomfield Hills. He hasn’t reported in with the DPD either. We’re still looking. His cell phone has been silent. We identified the other people through facial recognition. They go by Joel and Chloe Beechen.”
“Joel and Chloe? I believe they’re banished members of the Northern Light. I don’t understand how they’re still alive.” I turned toward my handler. “If they were informed of our impending raid on that house, it means that someone from The Light or the Shadows somehow tipped them off. It means there’s someone or multiple people within the FBI.”
Special Agent Adler’s lips pressed together. “Up until the raids, this task force was very small. I know it was secure. If it hadn’t been . . . well, you would have been discovered. But with the raids, all the acquisitions, and then the explosion in Bloomfield Heights, the number of agents has increased dramatically. We’ll begin an internal investigation, but first we need to be sure all of our witnesses are secure.”
I ran my hand through my hair.
Shit, I need a shower.
As we pulled up to the airport, my eyes widened. Being ushered from an airplane to a waiting van was a line of men, all ones I recognized, all with their hands cuffed behind their backs. I reached for the door handle and Adler reached for my arm.
“Protocol. You don’t want to ruin three years of work by saying the wrong thing. Let it go until you have Sara back.”
My neck stiffened and my eyes narrowed. Getting out of the SUV, I moved so that I’d be in plain view of each Commissioner and Assemblyman, and especially in view of Father Gabriel.
I waited as each person passed, each member of the chosen.
Perhaps the Commission and Father Gabriel thought Abraham had killed me; maybe they hadn’t given it much thought. When I saw
the suit and the silk shirt, I knew.
I couldn’t speak. Nevertheless I took another step forward.
My movement must have caught his attention. When our eyes met, the look Gabriel Clark gave me was classic and unforgettable. At first it was as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His dark eyes widened in question. It was as his gaze scanned my body and lingered on the badge hanging from a lanyard around my neck that I smiled. In his glare I witnessed unadulterated hatred. I knew the look, because if I hadn’t known that Sara was safe, I would have been giving him the same expression. The next second an officer pulled Clark’s elbow and he looked away.
My smile had been more of a Cheshire grin, and I didn’t shine it just on Gabriel Clark. No, I maintained it with my cheeks high as Timothy passed by, his beady eyes narrowing in disbelief. It was only with Daniel and Luke that I found myself wanting to offer to help. I told myself I would, but first I wanted to get to Sara.
My sleep-deprived mind was a blur as I pushed my way through Henry Ford Hospital. As soon as we landed, I received an update. Stella Montgomery was in stable condition. After we left Anchorage she had undergone a minor medical procedure commonly referred to as a D & C.
I told myself to concentrate on the first sentence. She was safe and in stable condition. That didn’t mean that I could ignore the rest of the update. I was an FBI agent. My job was dangerous. Hell, I’d almost been killed in the past twenty-four hours, and because of me, so had Stella. I’d never considered children, never wanted them. Until now.
There was a special security detail outside Stella’s room. With the news of the Shadows, the FBI was taking every precaution. Although my face-off with Gabriel Clark had been gratifying, it was also stupid. Now I was a target. And if I was, so was Stella.
As I approached Stella’s room, I struggled with what I’d find. Mostly I worried about how she’d take the news about the baby. That was, if she remembered—if they’d disconnected the memory suppressant before it had time to do its job. No one, except Brother Raphael, knew exactly how it worked or how much of the drug it would take to destroy her memory. She’d already had it in her system. Would even a small amount take her back to a blank canvas? The last messages had said she hadn’t awakened, though the anesthesia from the procedure was wearing off.
“You’re her husband?” the doctor asked, just outside her door.
“Yes,” I said. Despite everything we’d been through, seeing her, even from a distance, made me smile. That was, until I noticed the bandages. “Why are her eyes still covered?”
“We thought maybe you could tell us. We didn’t want to remove the bandages if there was a previous trauma.”
I shook my weary head. “No, there’s no trauma. The D & C?”
“Agent McAlister, from Stella’s HCG levels, it’s difficult to say if she was ever pregnant. However, due to the trauma she endured to her torso and the heaviness of her menstrual bleeding, the D & C was completed as a safety precaution.”
“Trauma? What happened?”
“It appears as though blunt force was delivered directly to her uterus.”
My fists balled. I’ll kill him. So help me God. I was going to kill Richards.
The doctor placed a hand on my shoulder. “There’s no permanent damage, if that’s what you’re concerned about. Your wife will be fine. Future children are possible.”
I nodded. “How much longer until she wakes?”
“It could be anytime.”
As we turned I saw Stella’s hands move shakily to the bandages.
“No! Not again! Please no!”
Her pleas were music to my ears. She remembers! I rushed to her side, pushing the nurse out of the way.
“Sara, I’m here. We’re getting these off. You don’t need them.”
She blindly reached in my direction. “Jacob? Is that you? Are you here? Oh, God. Where am I?”
I fumbled with the bandages until they fell away. The small dark domes landed upon the covers, and from beneath them the most beautiful blue eyes blinked and focused on me.
“It’s me. I’m here and you’re safe.”
Her shoulders shuddered as I wrapped her in my arms.
“I tried to help,” she said. “I kept asking him questions, trying to get him to tell me information. But then he said I was going to forget everything, and then he stuck something in my neck.” She pulled back. “Why? Why didn’t it work?” Then her face dropped, her mouth slightly open. “Our baby? Did I . . . ?”
I shook my head and pulled her close. “You didn’t do anything but survive. I’m so sorry I left you. I swear to God I’m going to kill him. I can’t believe he did this to you.”
Her face burrowed into the nape of my neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop it,” I whispered as I rubbed small circles on her back. “You have nothing to be sorry about. The doctor said that they couldn’t confirm you were pregnant. They said the hormone level was low. They also said they did a procedure for precaution, but if you ever decide to have children in the future, it’s still an option.”
Stella stilled in my arms. When she finally looked up to me she asked, “Me? If I ever decide?” She pulled her left hand away from the grip she’d had on me. “They took my wedding ring.”
I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her left fourth finger. “I’d be happy to put another one on that finger.”
She sat taller and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m done being Mrs. Adams.”
“That’s good.” My cheeks rose as my first real grin surfaced. “I don’t know anyone named Adams anyway.” I brushed my thumb over her bruised eye. The color had lightened to a sickening green. “I was wondering how you feel about the name McAlister?”
The tips of her lips moved upward. “I think I like it. Sara”—her grin grew—“Stella McAlister.” Burying her face in my chest, she looked up again, with her nose wrinkled. “Stella and Jacoby. That’s going to take some time getting used to.” She brushed my cheek. “You know, I don’t care what your name is, as long as we’re both safe. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I smoothed her blonde hair away from her face. “They told me I’d lost you. When I landed in Anchorage, they told me about the mansion.”
She covered her face with her hands. “Jacob, there were women there. They called themselves the brides of The Light. They . . . belong . . .” Her hand fluttered around her neck, and I saw the faint bruise. “They said I would be . . .” Red blotches began to surface as her eyes filled with tears.
“Shhh . . . it’s over.” I pulled her close. “It’s over for them too, I’d suspect. The authorities are waiting for the house to cool enough to check for remains.”
She shook her head. “Dylan told me things, things I need to tell you.”
“You never need to tell me anything. Your thoughts are yours. I’ll take whatever you want to share.”
Her lids fluttered with the ongoing battle Stella and Sara had been having since she’d left the Northern Light. And then her stare met mine. “I don’t think that’s what I meant. I meant, you’re FBI. The FBI needs to know all the things he said. He told me that The Light is bigger than we know. He called it the Shadows.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled. “You and I both need to spend time with agents who’ll help us debrief and deprogram. I only hope that after our time in Virginia is complete, you still like the idea of Stella McAlister.”
She reached for my hand and, as they’d done a thousand times, our fingers intertwined. “I can’t make any promises, because I know from experience that life has a way of throwing curveballs, but if I were to guess, I will always like that name, and maybe one day when we’re both ready, I’d like to verify the doctor’s prognosis and create some little McAlisters.”
“I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am. I’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to make up for leaving you. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“And what?” She brushed her lips against mine. “Father
Gabriel would have killed you.” Her light-blue eyes opened wide. “Wait! How did the raids go? What about all the others? What about our friends? Do they have Mindy? What about Brother Benjamin and Raquel?”
I laughed. For the first time in over a week, my chest rumbled, and I wrapped my wife in my arms, sending the vibrations from me to her. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of your questions.”
She shook her head. “That’s good, because I can’t seem to stop asking them.”
“I’ve noticed.” I took a deep breath. “The raids went well. Father Gabriel’s in custody. I don’t know anything about your friend Mindy. I saw Luke and the rest of the chosen men in Anchorage. The other followers were being transported from the Northern Light. I’m sure Mindy is among them, but there are over five hundred. It’ll take a while to get them all to Anchorage and identified. As for Raquel and Benjamin, they’ll be OK, but that’s another story.”
Her lip slipped between her teeth before she asked, “I remember Father Gabriel saying something?”
“Raquel was pretty badly injured, by Abraham, but we got her to Anchorage. I spoke with Benjamin on the way here from the airport. She’s still critical, but the doctors are encouraged. They believe she made it to surgery in time. The FBI’s allowing Benjamin to stay with her until she’s better. All in all, there were few casualties—forty-six, not including the bodies yet to be discovered in the mansion.”
“So we did it?” she asked. “Going back made a difference?”
“Yes, it made all the difference. There was a Kool-Aid plan for the Eastern Light. Lives were definitely saved there. Also, like you’d said, if Gabriel Clark had been in Bloomfield Hills, he probably would be gone with Richards.”
Stella’s eyes opened wide. “He’s free? Dylan is still out there?”
“He’s a fugitive now. Everyone is looking for him.” I reached for her cheek. “I can’t believe he hurt you after his show of pretending to be upset about your eye. I swear, when we find him, I’m going to—”
“Dylan? He didn’t do it.”