5. Millie
With my focus on reviewing the data, it felt like only a minute had passed before we started our descent into the Dallas area. After landing, I was once again whisked away, this time in a blacked-out SUV instead of an unmarked town car. Now I stood outside an inconspicuous building, wondering how in the hell a few hours ago I woke up expecting another monotonous day.
That obviously did not happen.
My grip tightened around the overnight bag strap, a sudden swell of nervousness constricting my lungs. Steeling my spine, shoving down the feeling of inadequacy, I marched through the glass doors.
After checking in with security, I followed his directions to the elevator bank and stepped inside the first one to arrive. A rush of excited energy thrummed through my veins as the elevator rose toward the seventh floor. With the low whirl in the background, I studied my reflection in the shiny doors. Dropping the bag, I smoothed both hands down my cropped black pants and adjusted the collar of my tailored jacket. At a little over five feet, and curvy, my clothes were now tailored to fit my unique figure. Gone were the days of oversized jeans and sweatshirts, hiding what magazines labeled an hourglass figure. These days, I put effort into how I looked, from my clothes to the sleek, sharp bob and all the products that helped it have some semblance of volume. I liked the way I looked now and didn’t cringe when I caught my reflection. Plus, the more professional and put-together appearance helped others take me seriously.
My age constantly worked against me at the university and in my field of study. Which meant I had to put more effort into making a positive first impression. Was it fair? No, but life wasn’t fair.
The sharp ding as the elevator leveled off made me jerk, my excitement making me more jumpy than normal.
Hell, nothing about this day was normal.
The opportunity was an enormous deal for many reasons. The most important being the urgency to convince this Supervisory Special Agent Riggs that The Union of Blessed Souls was a dangerous organization that needed immediate consideration to investigate and disassemble. Their website, social media, and tax documents all claimed it was a religious, non-denominational community. But if you looked deeper, past the shiny side they presented to potential followers, a power-hungry beast sat at the core.
And that beast had a name.
Gary Paul, AKA Pastor Paul.
Though he was the creator and frontman of the organization, there were several on the leadership and teaching team who seemed as vile as him. The group preyed on those looking for help with their marriage and the lost searching for a community to help them through a tough time. It all needed to stop before they siphoned more money from their ‘followers’ and others died.
Yes, died.
Murdered.
Except Pastor Paul nor anyone inside The Union of Blessed Souls were questioned about those deaths despite the high body count and all being followers of the group.
The whoosh of the door parting had me grabbing the dropped bag and tightening my fingers around the laptop satchel strap over my shoulder. Soft murmurs from the few agents sitting behind desks, talking to each other or on the phone, reached me as I stepped into the open concept space. A few curious stares flicked from their screens to study the new arrival for a moment before dismissing me.
I glanced down a hall, shifting my weight as I leaned forward, hoping to find a directory that would help point out SSA Riggs’s office. A man and a woman standing a couple feet away paused their conversation, both offering me a quick once-over. The man nodded and smiled, while the woman seemed less than impressed by my interruption.
“Are you lost?” the woman asked, flicking her bleached-blonde hair over a slim shoulder, the ends almost smacking the man in the face.
“Not that I’m aware of.” I turned to check the elevator to ensure I stepped off on the correct floor.
“I’m Special Agent Herrington. Can I?—”
“This floor is restricted,” the woman snapped, cutting off Agent Herrington. “Go back down and meet up with whatever college brought you here for a tour and let the profilers work in peace.”
I felt a line form between my brows as I focused on the rude woman. The badge hanging from the clip on her skirt said she worked for the FBI, but the writing was too small beneath to read the title.
Holding up the guest badge the security guard loaned me, I tilted my head toward the small key card. “Yes, I know it’s restricted because the front desk security told me I couldn’t access this floor without using this card. Also, I am not here on a tour with a college, considering I went to Harvard, Stanford, and Yale for my undergrad, graduate, and Ph.D., and none of those three institutions are within driving distance of this FBI location. Now, if you’re done trying to belittle me to make yourself look better in front of SA Herrington, I’d really like for someone to direct me toward Supervisory Special Agent Riggs’s office.”
The woman’s red lips pressed into a thin line, face flushed, but Herrington had a fist pressed to his lips, attempting to hide a growing grin. When she stepped toward me, the man’s smile fell, and he moved between us. With the woman at his back, he extended a hand between us.
“Nice to meet you, Ms.…” He arched a dark brown brow in a silent request for me to fill in my name.
I tipped my face up to meet his searching gaze and placed my palm in his, giving it a firm handshake. “Dr. Anderson.” With a huff, the woman moved around Agent Herrington, glaring at me as her heels clacked against the floor all the way to the elevator. “I’m here to meet an Agent Riggs.” I flicked my wrist, activating my watch. “Though I am a little early, I had the car drop me here before going to the hotel.”
“I’ll show you to her office, and we can see if she’s available now.” Turning on the heels of his brown dress shoes, he started down a hallway. “You mentioned a hotel, and it seems you’re carrying what we consider a go bag. Are you not from the Dallas area?”
“No, the Northeast. I flew in for this meeting with Agent Riggs.”
At a plain wooden door, he rapped a single knuckle against the surface and waited until a voice called out for him to come in. After shooting me a warm smile, he turned the knob and pushed the door open, his tall, lean frame blocking me from seeing inside.
“Hey, sorry,” said a tense female voice. “I’m crazy busy getting ready for a consultant to help me sort out?—”
“You mean this consultant?” Agent Herrington said with a laugh as he opened the door wide and stepped to the side.
I blinked at the beautiful woman sitting behind the large desk, at a sudden loss for words. Not sure why I expected a male agent, but I did. A very wrong assumption, it appeared. By the way she blinked at me, lips parted, it seemed she assumed the same.
A smile curled at the corner of my lips, as did hers.
“Dr. Anderson?” Agent Riggs hedged as she stood.
I tilted my chin up to maintain her stare and nodded. “Nice to meet you, Agent Riggs.” I stepped deeper into the office and took her offered hand, giving it a firm shake before setting my overnight bag beside the chair in front of her large desk.
When the door softly clicked behind me, I twisted, finding the other agent had left without a word. When I turned back to Agent Riggs, I found her studying me with a questioning expression on her face.
“Yes, I’m old enough to drink. Yes, I’m over five feet tall, if only by an inch or two. Yes, all my degrees are valid. I graduated from undergrad, grad school, and my Ph.D. program with perfect GPAs.”
Agent Riggs’s smile grew. “Good to know. Thank you for coming to meet with me on short notice.” With a heavy sigh, she fell into her chair, twisting side to side as she studied me. “I was assigned this case, and your information was tagged on the file as an expert to reach out to if I had questions.”
With a nod, I sat in the wide leather chair, pulling out my iPad before setting that bag on the floor beside me. “Because of personal reasons, I began investigating various cults and high control groups after I graduated with my undergrad and have stayed on top of those organizations since. I also teach a graduate-level course at Harvard on the subject every other semester. While on the plane, I reviewed the data I collected since identifying The Union of Blessed Souls as a potential mind control group. I’m all set to answer any of your questions.”
Pitching forward, Agent Riggs set both clasped hands on her desk and held my stare.
“What we discuss in this room must stay between us. The information we received is highly confidential and, if leaked, could derail any plans of shutting the organization down. Do you understand?” I gave a clipped nod. “Great. Before we dive into that shit show, let’s ditch the titles if that’s okay with you. I’m Rhyan.” She raised a hand and waved.
My tense muscles relaxed, and my back molded further against the chair. “Nice to meet you, Rhyan. I’m Millie.”
Her brows furrowed at my name. I tilted my head, attempting to understand what had her confused about my name.
“Where have I heard that name before?” she muttered to herself. With a firm headshake, she schooled her furrowed expression back into that pleasant smile. “Now that we’re past the confidentiality notice and formalities, we can dive into why you’re here.” I scooted forward along the seat, eager to hear what she had to say. “Two days ago, a friend of a friend of the FBI’s deputy director claimed her sister and brother-in-law were murdered in their home just before Christmas, and her niece was taken and is now being held against her will by a cult.”
“The Union of Blessed Souls,” I mumbled under my breath. Tapping the screen, I pulled up my list of known members. “What were their names? The claimant’s sister, brother-in-law, and niece.”
“Last name, Parker. Dan, Lacey, and their daughter, Karigan.”
A breath froze in my lungs as I stared unseeing at the screen. Did she know? Was that why I was really here?
I shook off the uneasy feeling and nodded, knowing exactly where to find their names on my list. “Dan Parker is, or was, a teacher within the group. He moved his family to Georgia from Texas a little over two years ago after he and his wife attended their quarterly two-week on-site marriage seminar.”
“And their daughter?” Rhyan asked.
“I have little on her, but she wasn’t integrated into the group like other children of those rising in the ranks. That much I know. She attended the local high school instead of the one in the compound.” Maybe now was when I should tell Rhyan I knew exactly where Karigan went to school and had spoken to her after waiting outside the school’s gates one afternoon. Not that I learned much from the brief conversation with Karigan, who refused to talk to me about her parents’ involvement with the organization and what she witnessed behind the massive gates and walls of their compound. “I’m sure I could find out more,” I mumbled instead of voicing my connection with the potential victim.
Instead, I swiped the screen to pull up a picture of Pastor Paul and the leadership team and turned it to Rhyan. “The man in the middle is Pastor Paul, and the others are part of his leadership team, along with high-ranking teachers.”
“All men, I see.” Annoyance hung in her tone.
“They are extremely backward in how they view marriage and antiquated gender roles. Very old-school, dominant and submissive views.” I shifted in the seat and set the iPad on my lap. “What makes the caller assume the two adults were murdered? Though before you respond to that question, I’ll admit I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.” That got Rhyan’s full attention. She leaned against the edge of the desk and motioned for me to continue. “There have been others, which is why I consider this group so dangerous. There are five cases that I found through my research that seemed suspicious. From murder-suicides, to being found in their home after a suspected break-in, which are still unsolved, or the fact that one leadership member is currently on wife number four; the previous three all died of ‘natural causes’ despite their young age.”
“What? How is that not suspicious to the local authorities? That’s a lot of death all revolving around the group.” Rhyan flicked open the thick manila folder on her desk and ran a finger along the typed words. My fingers twitched to get my hands on those papers, to dig deeper and learn what they knew. “And why were they not listed in the case file I was given?”
“From what I’ve uncovered, the whole town is mixed in with the group. Either they are followers themselves or are being paid off. The local medical examiner and police chief have labeled none of the deaths as connected to or even suspecting the church. The biggest difference here is the other potential murder victims didn’t have any family left to be concerned about their untimely deaths, unlike the Parkers, who do.”
Which was odd. There was something we were missing.
“None of them had family left?”
“It’s cult leader 101 to get their members fully reliant on them, forcing distance between them and their family. It’s easy once those followers trust the leaders; they believe the most ridiculous things. Believe me, I’ve seen it all.” I released a heavy sigh. “So, in a literal sense, sure, they might have living relatives, but they might not even know the family member inside the cult is dead.” I paused, eyes flicking one way, then the other, as I mentally shuffled through all the data I’d gathered on the group. “None of them left behind a child, only their wealth, which was already dwindled because of their ‘offerings’ to the pastor or were given to the group, which was written in their wills.” I nodded at Rhyan’s incredulous expression. “Recently changed wills. But Pastor Paul is smart and never cashed in on the life insurance claims, despite the thousands of dollars sitting out there unclaimed.”
Rhyan’s head bobbed as I spoke, her stare fixed just over my shoulder. “The insurance companies would have investigated the deaths, too, and the group wouldn’t want that scrutiny.”
“Exactly,” I said brightly, excited that she connected it quickly. “A child left behind is an anomaly, which makes me wonder why. What exactly did the caller say happened to her sister and brother-in-law?”
“That’s the odd thing. She couldn’t give us any specifics, just that it all felt off. Her sister had reached out a few days prior, stating they were leaving the group, but she mentioned having to keep their plans quiet. When the caller reached out to the local police to find out more information, they wouldn’t release the details of what happened. All she has is a faxed copy of the parents’ will, which stated that their daughter’s guardianship would transfer to Gary Paul if something were to happen to them.”
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“Which makes me wonder,” Rhyan added, suspicion in her tone. “How do you know the details of those cases you suspect are murders, not accidents or whatever the medical examiner claimed?”
I swallowed hard, knowing I needed to come clean about the dangerous adventure I took down to Georgia during Thanksgiving break. It was definitely the single most idiotic, riskiest thing I’d ever done.
And it was 100 percent exhilarating.
“I might have taken a trip to Bowen, Georgia,” I admitted and rubbed at my temples, the beginnings of a migraine sparking from all the stress. Rhyan’s lips parted, but I held up a hand, cutting her off. “Yes, I knew what I was doing was dangerous. Yes, it was risky, considering I suspected this group is very comfortable killing people to get what they want….” It hit me like a punch to the gut. All the air rushed from my lungs. I unfolded from the chair and stood, unable to sit still. “That’s it. That has to be why.”
“Care to fill me in on the revelation you clearly just had?”
“They take matters into their own hands when they think someone will betray their secrets or have something they want. In the other cases, it was money, the massive funds the victims left behind, that immediately went to the church. So if they killed this couple, leaving behind a daughter…”
“Then that’s what they wanted. She was who they wanted and took out her parents before they could leave, just as the victim had told her sister. They must have caught on to their plans and killed them.”
“But they didn’t kill the one they wanted. Now why, I have no clue. I met Karigan and?—”
Rhyan stood. “What did you just say?”
I grimaced and paced from one side of her office to the other. “When I went down there, I talked to the locals, knowing I’d never get inside the compound, nor would I get any of those living outside the walls to talk. It was then that I realized Karigan went to the local high school, so I waited for her one day. She didn’t tell me anything, but the way she avoided me and the fear on her face told me enough.”
Rhyan’s nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply, a hard stare locked on me. “That was dangerous. You’re not trained for that.”
“I understand, and as I stated before, I have personal reasons to look into these organizations. I hoped to find what I’ve searched ten years for while I was there, but I didn’t.”
Yet another dead end. With each one that popped up in my search, slivers of hope of finding Killian again faded.
“If you have proof of the group orchestrating and covering up murders, why didn’t you take it to an FBI field office with all the other information you have on them?”
“Suspicions, yes, actual proof, no. When I went to Georgia, I did some snooping around, and that’s how I heard about the deaths possibly being murders orchestrated by The Union of Blessed Souls. All rumors and speculations from the few locals who hate the group and would actually talk to me, nothing that the FBI could use to arrest the leaders or even get a warrant issued for a raid. These men, the pastor in particular, are smart. They cover their asses from every angle. So as much as I’d like to help you shut the group down so more people don’t get sucked into their evil web of lies, I can’t.”
“Unless we get proof.”
“That’s admissible in court. Not suspicions or rumors. We need concrete evidence or someone on the inside who will flip and give us firsthand accounts of their true inner workings.”
Rhyan smirked. “Admissible in court? Concrete evidence? Either you watch a lot of Law and Order or….”
“I went to law school at night during graduate school to keep myself busy.”
“Holy hell,” she said, choking on a laugh. “I went to law school all on its own. It was tough as hell. I can’t imagine doing it as a boredom filler.” Shaking her head, locks of dark red hair fell forward to frame her face. “The girl, Karigan, is who is important right now. The deputy director asked me to look into the situation. We need to know if she is there against her will, then go from there.”
I nodded, fingers wrapping around the back of the chair as I leaned forward. “We need to review the parents’ will to see how the guardianship is worded. Then we can determine if there is a legal way to send someone to Georgia to poke around.” As I spoke, Rhyan flipped through the stack of papers and tugged one free. She slid it across the desk, and I readily picked it up, immediately scanning the legal jargon. “I’d love to see the original document, which I suspect one of their high-dollar attorneys has on file, but this reads concrete. Gary Paul is her guardian until her eighteenth birthday.” Noticing a copy of Karigan’s driver’s license on top of the stack of papers Rhyan thumbed through, I turned it around to scan the birth date listed. “Which is in eleven months and four days. That’s a long-ass time to be there if she doesn’t want to be.”
“You remind me of another agent,” Rhyan said with a soft smile. “He’s just as quick, mind always working. Speaking of which…” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have a meeting with him and the agent who walked you in shortly. What else can you tell me about the group in the next fifteen minutes?”
I stared at her for a moment, mentally filtering through all the information and quickly determining what was priority, considering the circumstances.
“I could tell you about each member of the leadership team, Pastor Paul’s background and rise to leadership, but I don’t think that’s what you need to know right now.”
“What is?” she asked, considering me.
“If Karigan is our focus, if we believe she is truly being held captive inside the group’s compound, then you need to focus on getting her out of that fucked-up situation. I don’t even want to think about the mental games that girl has gone through in the few months she’s been with Pastor Paul. There is no doubt in my mind he’s spinning all kinds of lies to get her reliant on him.”
“Asshole,” Rhyan muttered.
“It won’t be easy. Legally, you can’t just send agents in and pull her away from the pastor, considering the will; plus, there is the possibility she wants to be there. You also can’t storm their gates, flashing your badges and demanding you talk to her. This type of group would immediately threaten her to lie her ass off or be harmed if she spoke the truth. If they know a federal agency is on-site, everything will be locked down tight, and all you’ll see is what they want you to see. The only way to truly know what is going on with Karigan is to?—”
“Send an agent undercover to infiltrate the group from the inside.”
“That’s the only way I can see it working, to truly get a feel for the girl’s situation and potentially uncover the truth about the organization and their involvement in the murders.”
“As I reviewed the information in the file, which is a lot less than what you know, I considered that might be needed and put an agent on alert for a long-term assignment.” Rhyan tapped a finger against her lips and arched a brow my way. “Any suggestions on how we get our agent into the group quickly without risking being caught?”
I bit my lower lip to stop the growing smile. “I have an idea that might work. But you’ll need to keep an open mind.”
Both brows slid up her forehead. “If it can help the girl and potentially shut down that shit show, then I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”
Perfect.
This was it. My chance to actually do something in my life. Not just hide behind a book or teach others who would go out into the world.
I just hoped Rhyan was as open-minded as she suggested.