Chapter 20

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

With little to no effort I shore up the invite for coffee with Sloan.

It's late morning and I just trekked over to Denver, to the Pour a Cuppa Coffee Shop that sits nestled against the Front Range. Inside, the thick scent of coffee acts like an aphrodisiac and a hypnotic all rolled into one. A series of picture windows highlight the sheer mountainsides outside and manage to usher in all of their rugged glory.

The place is packed. There's lots of reclaimed wood on the walls and floors, and the soft hum of conversation is just a notch louder than the jazz music playing overhead. I place my order and spot a thin brunette with a bright pink T-shirt waving at me with slight hesitancy from the back. She's dressed just as she said she would be, her hair swept up with a large silver clip. I collect my latte and head that way.

"Sloan?" I say, trying out my best happy-to-see-you tone, twinged with just enough naiveté. The last thing I want to do is be myself. I'm far too cut and dry, far too jaded to ever be invited into a cult of any kind.

"That's me," she says, bouncing out of her seat and offering me a spontaneous hug, far too tight, far too needy. I'll admit, I wasn't expecting that. And for that reason alone, I'm glad I didn't bring my gun. A part of me wonders if that was a technique to see if I had one. That right there was more action than I've seen in months.

Jack comes to mind and I frown out the windows just ahead of us. Both he and Nikki insisted on having lunch across the street in the event something goes awry. I appreciate the safety net, but I'm pretty sure I can handle this one.

Sloan looks about my age, maybe pushing forty at best, with a thin frame, wide smile, and heavily drawn-in eyes. Judging by the many direct messages we exchanged over the past week, I suspected she might be bubbly, but with her bouncing and giggling and nonstop praise of my hair, she's far more effervescent than I gave her credit for.

"I can't believe we're finally meeting in person. Tell me everything about yourself, Chastity," she says as we land in our seats.

"I grew up in Reno. My father died a few years back and my mother lives in Florida with her sister. We don't have much to do with one another. I have a sister in Canada and that's about it." I try to match her glee as I give a little giggle but sound more like an injured walrus.

"Okay." She sobers up as she nods. "So you don't have much family. How about friends? You know, to network with."

"I just moved here from Reno, so tag you're it," I sing and her eyes widen as if she's just caught a live one. Little does she know, it's the other way around.

I figured I'd whittle down the work she'd have to do to lure me to her lair. Or at least, her leader's lair. The man who wears the red hood has me more than a little intrigued. I have a feeling he holds more than one key in this blood-soaked mystery.

I need to get myself to Paradise, as an insider. And I'm about to employ a few tricks and tips I inadvertently gleaned from my new buddy Sloan to cinch the deal.

"Well, we are friends," she says, clasping her hands over mine. Her fingers are icy, and I'm restraining the urge to shudder from her touch. It's not that I don't like to be touched, it's just that I don't want to be touched by her. Especially since there are nefarious intentions at play here.

"Thank you," I say, threading our fingers together in an effort to remove any barrier of doubt. "I can't believe I met someone so nice the second I arrived. And like I said, I'm desperate for work. Right now, I'm doing surge hours at a local fast food place near the hostel I'm staying in. They're paying me under the table. It's not exactly where I envisioned my life would be at this point. But I still have my mom's credit card. I can afford a few classes."

"A youth hostel?" She inches back. "Oh, Chastity." She shakes her head with a genuine look of horror. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you stay there. Okay, first things first. How serious are you about dedicating your time and effort to being the best you possible?"

"I have no other choice," I say. "It's do or die. And right about now, I'd do just about anything to change my circumstances. I mean, don't they say when you're at the bottom, there's only one way to go and that's up? That's me in a nutshell."

"You seem smart." She cocks her head to the side and examines me once again as if her suspicions were aroused.

"I have an AA degree in marketing," I say quickly. Do those exist? "I mean, I'm a couple of units shy of getting it. I went back to finish, but it was too much."

"Oh hon." She clucks her tongue as a look of pity takes over her bloated features. "I'm going to take care of this for you. You've got a great personality. You're pretty. So right out the gate, you have everything going for you. Okay, I'm going to tell you right now, I'm taking you on as a part of my team." She pinches her lips with her fingers. "Do you think you'd be willing to help pull more people into the Quantum universe? You know, sell the key course and maybe engage in some upsells as well?"

"Absolutely," I say with a little too much enthusiasm. "I'm a natural salesperson. My grandmother used to say I could sell a bucket of snow to Santa." I give a thoughtful pause. "Hey, can I build my own team, like you?" I feign delight at the thought of working mercilessly long hours in hopes of ensnaring the desperate and the hopeless.

"Of course," she says, matching my enthusiasm. "And the best part is, they will never make more than you because we get a trickle of sales from everyone in our downline. The more people you have under you, the more powerful you are. I think you're a natural already."

"Oh wow. Thank you so much. I mean, I'll have to work around my day job. And the hostel doesn't have the best internet, but I'm sure I can?—"

"No way," she says, swilling her coffee my way. "No downline of mine is living in a hostel, just scraping by. It's a bad look. The owners of Quantum Success have a ranch out in Ironwood Springs. They let a bunch of us live there for free."

"What?" I slam my hand down on the table, trying to sound as if I just hit the lottery. And in a strange way, I have.

"It's true." She laughs. "And everyone at Quantum—well, we're just like one big family. And since you're lacking in both the friends and family department, you're going to fit right in. Everyone is just going to love you." The smile glides from her face as she tracks my features with her eyes. "So do you mind if I get personal in another way?"

"Ask me anything," I say, hiking my shoulders a notch. "Chastity Jones has nothing to hide." Mostly because she doesn't exist.

"What's cookin' in the romance department?" She licks the side of her cup before taking a careful sip and it's off-putting.

"I've been with a few men. I'll be honest, though. I just can't commit. I mean, I wanted to date my high school boyfriend and this new guy I met in college at the same time." I laugh at the thought. "And well, that sort of killed both relationships. The last few years I've just been bouncing around from bed buddy to bed buddy. I don't know. I don't think I'm cut out for that whole white picket fence thing. I'm not looking for Romeo. I just want to have a good time. Is that such a crime?"

"No." Her voice hikes unnaturally. "It sure is not." She laughs. "And I get it. I'm the same way. In fact, back at the ranch, we have more than our fair share of handsome men and none of us girls have a problem sharing." She gravels out a laugh and I join along.

"Sounds like my kind of place. Where do I sign?"

"No signing necessary." She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. "Actually, we have a welcome ceremony coming up this Saturday. It's not just for newcomers. It's sort of the way we run our community meetings." She clams up for a second. "We do have a few little, let's say rituals, to indoctrinate newcomers. It's just for fun. Dress up kind of stuff. It's sort of our way of making a spectacle out of nothing."

"Ooh, did I hear the word ritual?" I wiggle my shoulders. "I freaking love the occult and anything to do with it—one of my exes used to LARP. All fantasies are welcome in my book. The darker the better." I nod. "Count me in. You're lucky I'm not running there now."

She belts out a hearty guffaw. "Oh dear, Chastity. Why do I feel as if I've just met a lifelong friend? No, a sister. I've just met a long-lost sister." She comes at me with her arms and we exchange a heartfelt hug once again.

We chat away for the next solid hour before she gives me directions to my new home at the ranch.

"The meeting starts Saturday night at nine," she tells me. "The roads will be dark, but drive slowly and you'll be just fine. Come around eight-thirty and I'll meet you by the gate." She takes up my hands once again, her fingers suddenly hot and sweaty. "I think this is a match made in heaven. And who knows? You might just end up in paradise yet."

She takes off and I do the same. I catch Jack and Nikki watching me as I head to my truck, but that's about as far as I'm willing to let them into my meeting. I shoot them a quick text and tell them it went well.

I make sure Sloan is long gone before I ever turn on the ignition.

Ponzi scheme.

Cult.

Malcolm and Patty Lewis are checking off all the boxes. It makes me wonder what other nefarious boxes we're dealing with.

Come Saturday night, I'm about to find out.

My phone pings as I'm about to turn onto the road and it's a message from Grant Hale.

Two more bodies have been discovered.