yourself above the rest of us!”
And he’d slapped her. He glared at her and was so angry. When she’d first come to this family, he was so gentle, so tolerant. But lately he’d become so short-tempered and his controlling nature was skyrocketing. “I think as the man who founded this Fellowship and works every day to hold it together and protect it, I can be afforded some respect!”
It was a black day that burned in her memory. That had been a year before she’d finally left.
She read on about Jacob. Investigated and interviewed for allegations of kidnapping and human trafficking.
She thought she knew what human trafficking was, but looked it up just the same. The recruitment of human beings by means of kidnapping, coercion or purchase for the purpose of exploitation, usually for labor or commercial sex trade....
And she knew. She just had never thought of women over twenty-one who went willingly being the victims of human trafficking—she’d always assumed underage prostitutes or child laborers in dingy, dangerous factories were the kinds of people who would be the victims of human trafficking.
Jacob had picked her up outside a shelter in Seattle, Washington. He’d invested an hour in conversation with her learning that she was alone, that she longed for a family and was needy, afraid and desperate. She also fit his profile of wanting fair-skinned and blue-eyed members for his group. He treated them all so sweetly and provided a shelter that was clean and had plentiful food. She was introduced to a few other women who’d joined the group for the same reason she had. They all worked hard to sustain it and to make it a success. Then they were all stripped of their identities—driver’s licenses, social security cards and other personal effects stored away...or perhaps destroyed.
And they all loved him. At one time, even Devon had had a deep love for him, or perhaps it was gratitude. Sometimes some of them joked behind his back in whispers: He’s penning a new bible, you know.
Devon remembered Laine’s words to her. Tell if you have to, Laine had said. Tell about the gardens.
While it was never discussed openly, they all knew that Jacob and the family financed their plentiful compound by their special gardens. No matter how well their organic gardens produced, the bounty of fresh fruit and vegetables was not enough to generate the kind of income needed to keep The Fellowship going. There were a couple of gardens that were kept concealed in a couple of warehouses. They used grow lights run on generators, going twenty-four hours a day and tended by only a few men. Devon had been a member of The Fellowship for a couple of years before she knew about their special cash crop—it was marijuana.
Jacob explained it to her by saying, “We are only growing medicinal herbs that the government wants to regulate. If they find out what we are doing they’ll take it all away. Strip us of everything. But it’s harmless and helpful and some states have even passed laws making it legal, which this state will eventually do, as well. Then, they’ll try to tax it to the moon. We have to grow our herbs in secret. The government would love to steal from us, which is not their right.”
Brother Jacob was a drug dealer. His cult, his Fellowship, was a cover. That’s why he kept the members close by, and why he had children with them knowing that would keep them tied to him.
Although there was nothing in her research to indicate he was being investigated for running and operating a grow-op, Devon knew the feds must be getting closer. It would explain his behavior—Jacob was now paranoid.
Three
Lieutenant Commander Sarah Dupre hadn’t worn her diamond engagement ring to work when she’d first gotten it. Rings on the flight line were a good way to lose a finger, for one thing. As well, she didn’t want any of her coworkers figuring her out, for another. But the day her deadline for accepting or rejecting the orders that would ship her to a Florida Coast Guard Station expired, she wore the beautiful ring to work. She had written the two letters—one, rejecting the assignment and two, resigning her commission and leaving the Coast Guard.
Her boss, Commander Buzz Bachman, accepted the letters for his files, though Sarah would send both to the command HR department herself.
“Gonna do it, huh?” he said. “I can’t say I’m all that surprised. But what’s next for