Читать книгу Colton's Deadly Engagement - Addison Fox - Страница 12

Chapter 4

Darby walked down the hallway to collect her things from the bathroom. The lingering scent of bleach hit her nose as she cleared the bathroom doorway and, while harsh, it effectively removed the cloying scent of Hayley Patton’s perfume.

What it couldn’t erase quite as easily were the spiteful, hateful words.

Cold and heartless.

She supposed there were worse things to be called, but when tallied on top of a stressful weekend and a bleak future, Darby was close to shattering.

She wasn’t cold. And she was far from heartless. If she were, she’d already have lined up Penny’s next breeding session. Or worse, she’d have put the house and the business up for sale, effectively breaking Bo’s father’s heart.

Gathering up her cleaning supplies, she marched back down the hall, her arms overflowing with scrub brushes, chemicals and the now nearly empty container of bleach dangling from her index finger. It was only when she got to the living room that she realized her tactical mistake. The chief had returned and was even now pacing the living room, his large German shepherd blocking a path to the door.

“You’re still here.”

“I wanted to make sure Miss Patton was on her way. Now that she is, I can discuss why I’m here.”

“That’s not why you came?”

“No.”

Short and succinct. Was the man a robot? Every time she saw him he was straitlaced and to the point.

And, of course, he wasn’t here about Hayley Patton. How would he have even known the woman would come over today of all days? But it still didn’t explain why Finn Colton had returned to her home.

“Do you have a lead on Bo and that poor Michael Hayden?”

Although she’d kept close to home that weekend, a few friends had called her in continued concern. Her true friends—the ones who hadn’t been seeking a gossip session—had called each week since Bo’s death, wanting to make sure she was doing well. But even without any intended gossip, the strange connection between Bo’s murder and Michael’s the Friday past had churned up conversation.

Finn’s gaze dipped to her supplies, his eyes narrowing on her hands before working their way back up to her face. It was strange, the way his gaze went cold and flat. Cop’s eyes, she thought to herself, and finally understood what that term meant. A chill ran up her spine like someone walked over her grave.

Why did the man always look at her in a way that made her feel like she’d done something wrong?

She appreciated his position and his dedication to his job. She’d always been someone who valued determination and hard work. Yet the fact that he kept looking in her direction for a crime not only that she hadn’t committed but that wouldn’t have even crossed her mind on her worst day, didn’t sit well.

“If you have something to say to me, please just say it. I’d like to get back to my day and avoid thinking about the fact that I’ve somehow become the money-grubbing town whore.” She turned away from the chief, determined to keep the lingering threat of tears out of his line of sight. “You’d think I’d be having a bit more fun if that was my angle.”

She continued on to the kitchen, reordering her cleaning supplies in the plastic container she kept under the sink. She’d nearly finished lining up each item when heavy footsteps sounded behind her.

Would the man never leave? What did he want, anyway? A front-row seat to her public humiliation and shame?

“Can I see that bleach?”

She’d nearly shut the cabinet door when the chief’s question registered. “I’m sorry?”

“The bleach. May I see it?”

Confused about the ask, but more than willing to hand over a two-dollar container of cleaning supply, she pulled the bleach out from the cabinet. “Here.”

He took the bottle, seeming to weigh the heft before lifting it in the air to look at the sides of the container. “How long have you had this?”

“The bleach?”

“Yes.”

She wanted to laugh at the odd request but sensed there was something deeper underneath his questions. “A few days, I guess. I was out and needed it as part of my cleaning of the house.”

“You’ve used a lot of it.”

“Have you seen this house? It’s shabby now but at least it’s clean. When I moved in, it was shabby and filthy.”

Since he seemed unconvinced, she pressed on. “What’s this about, Chief Colton?”

“Nothing.”

“Right. Because everyone’s fascinated with cleaning products. I’ve got a really great glass cleaner I can share. And my steel wool is top-of-the-line. You want those, too?”

His expression never changed. If anything, it grew darker at her attempts at lightheartedness.

“Why are you asking me this?”

“It’s police business. I would like to take this container.”

“But why?” Darby pressed once more.

“I’ll give you a receipt for it.”

Something slick and oily settled like a large ball in the pit of her stomach. Hayley’s visit had been unpleasant, but Darby had held her own. Yet something about the chief’s visit—a person who should put her at ease instead of spiking her fight-or-flight response—had her in knots.

“Why are you really here? It obviously wasn’t to intercept Hayley Patton. And I’m quite sure it’s not to talk cleaning supplies.”

“I wanted to see if you remember anything from Friday night.”

“I told you the other day. I stayed in that night. Penny and I are still acclimating to each other and I had hopes a quiet night in would help cement our new relationship.”

And, she added silently to herself, I have no money to go out so it was easy to pick a dog over my social life.

“Can anyone prove that?”

“I spoke with my friend Karen around eight. You’re welcome to call her and confirm.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And she said the two of you spoke. But you could have called her from anywhere.”

Darby fought the urge to roll her eyes and pointed in the direction of the living room toward the couch instead. “I was sitting right there all evening.”

“Which can’t be proven.”

“It was about fifteen degrees on Friday night. I was bundled up in flannel pajamas, thick wool socks and that blanket right there.”

Finn turned, his gaze settling on the area she’d pointed out. His deep voice grew husky, the tones low, as if he were talking to himself. “You could have snuck out. It would be easy enough to bundle up, drive across town, shoot Michael Hayden in the chest, then drive back here and fall right back into that cozy spot on the couch. It wasn’t a big secret that he smoked. As a waitress in town, you’d know all about those secret habits Red Ridge’s citizen’s engage in. It would be easy enough to wait him out. Wait for his next nicotine hit.”

The image that he painted so casually—like he saw it all in his mind’s eye—had that ball of fear rising from her stomach to crawl up her throat. “What are you talking about?”

“Michael Hayden. Your ex-husband, Bo. Bo, I understand. Killing him gave you all this.” He stuck out a hand to gesture toward the room at large before whirling around to stare her down. “But what about Hayden? Did you enjoy your first kill so much you had to go back for more?”

* * *

Demi Colton reached for the small tube of travel toothpaste off the bathroom sink and coated her toothbrush, then added a second swipe for good measure. She scrubbed at the layer of fuzz on her teeth, desperate to remove the sour, sick taste that had been a part of nearly every morning for the past four months.

Four months.

She stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed, still barely able to believe the truth. She was going to be a mother.

To a tiny, helpless baby who was going to be born fatherless.

The panic that had accompanied her at the news she was unexpectedly pregnant with Bo Gage’s child had changed to fierce protection when it became evident Bo wasn’t fit to be a parent. Heck, the man was barely fit to be an adult. His ethics were beyond shaky—a fact she’d discovered a few days before she was going to tell him about the baby. Instead of sharing the joyful news, they’d had a wicked fight that had driven Bo into Hayley Patton’s arms.

Or, at least, that’s what the town thought.

If anyone had bothered to ask her—and no one had since they were all too busy thinking she’d gone and offed the jerk—they’d have known that Bo had already spent more than a few evenings in Hayley’s bed. All while Demi had still blithely believed them to be a couple.

The lightest flutter rumbled in her belly and she pressed a hand there, amazed by the feeling.

Life.

Bo’s child.

Her child.

This baby was hers and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to protect him or her.

Which meant she had to stay on the run, continue to lie low and figure out how to get away from the roving eye of the law long enough to find out who really had it in for Bo. Because the roving eye of the law—one serious blue eye, in particular—certainly had it in for her.

Chief Finn Colton.

She’d always had a strained relationship with the various branches of her family. Her father, Rusty, wasn’t particularly tight with his two cousins, Fenwick and Judson, but they’d all seen to it that the Colton family populated Red Ridge in prolific fashion. Their grudging acceptance of each other had further ensured that their children hadn’t formed particularly close attachments to their cousins.

But even with that distance, it still hurt that Finn had zeroed in on her as one of his prime suspects.

Yes, the evidence looked bad. And, yes, she did have motive against Bo if you counted the jilted-lover routine. And she’d even accept that her experience as a bounty hunter gave her exposure to some of the more unsavory ways to live a life.

But, damn it, she didn’t kill Bo. Only now it was up to her to determine who did.

And why.

* * *

Finn Colton wasn’t a man who intimidated women. But in that moment, the color leeching from Darby Gage’s face as her blue eyes grew bigger and bigger, Finn knew he’d overstepped.

“You not only think I killed someone, but you think I enjoyed it? Enjoyed it so much I killed someone else?” Disbelief and a solid veneer of horror coated Darby’s words, reinforcing what a bastard he was.

But what about that bleach? And the fact that she’d inherited Bo’s home and business? She had no alibi he could verify for either murder and even less reason for inheriting the business.

None of which gave him the right to come into her home and intimidate her.

The near-empty container of bleach still hung from his fingers and he settled the bottle on a small end table at the edge of the couch. His gaze caught on Lotte’s when he did and he could have sworn he saw serious disappointment in her eyes.

Which was ridiculous.

The last time he checked, all his knowledge of canine learning and understanding did not extend to castigating humans for unspoken thoughts.

He could manage that damn well all by himself.

“It’s my job to consider all the angles.”

“You call stomping in here and accusing me of unspeakable things angles?” Where he’d expected her to rant and rail, the stiff shoulders and steady voice suggested something else.

Darby Gage was a woman who could handle crisis. More, she’d obviously had to somewhere in her past. “Chief Colton, am I under suspicion for murder?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Of course.” Even though the color hadn’t returned to her features, her voice was pure steel.

“You are a suspect in the murders of Bo Gage and Michael Hayden.”

“Because I was in a will I had no clue I was a part of? And because I bought some cleaning supplies.”

“You had motive.”

“Not as far as I’m concerned. But even if I apply your logic to Bo, where do you get off accusing me of harming a man I never met?”

“There are any number of reasons.”

“No, there aren’t. Including the biggest, which is that I’m not a murderer.”

“So you keep saying.”

“If you think that, then I clearly need to get a lawyer.”

“Suspicion isn’t formal charges.”

“Then why do you keep coming to my home?”

Once again, he had to give her credit. She held her own. She’d gone toe-to-toe with Hayley and was standing firm with him. Heck, she’d even settled in with the dog, determined to take care of Penny despite the animal’s loyalty to Bo.

“I told you. I’m doing my job.”

“Then go do your job. Get out on the streets of Red Ridge and find a killer.”

Was he looking in the wrong place? Or was he so anxious to have some lead on the case he was willing to look anywhere? His gaze shot to the bleach once more before flicking back to Darby. “Why are you here?”

“Excuse me?”

“Bo’s house. His dog. You had a life and, by your own admission the other day, you moved on from your marriage. So why come here and pick up your ex-husband’s business?”

“Because there’s no one else to do it,” she snapped.

His interview with her on Saturday had nagged at him throughout the weekend. There was something about Darby Gage he couldn’t define, but couldn’t get out of his head. She was a combination of innocence and knowledge, and had become a complete puzzle to him.

“Hayley presumably would like the job.”

“Hayley wants the house. There’s the difference.”

“And you don’t?”

“I want stability and a future. And as of right now I don’t have either.”

The color had returned to her cheeks throughout their exchange, but at her last comment a flush crept up her neck. Was she embarrassed about something?

“I’d think moving out of your apartment into a home while also becoming a business owner would offer a considerable amount of stability and security.”

“It might have if Bo Gage had possessed a lick of sense.”

Although he wasn’t proud of his behavior, Finn was pleased to see that he’d made a dent in her armor. “That wasn’t a particularly big secret around town.”

“I suppose not.” She took a seat at the small drop-leaf table that sat up against the kitchen window overlooking the backyard. The stiff set of her shoulders loosened, like a balloon deflating, as her gaze drifted toward the yard. “Other than a love for his dogs and a roving eye, I’m not sure the man had much to show for his life.”

“He seemed to think it was a good life. I’d only met Bo a few times but I work with his brother and sister. Bo came around to visit them a few times and he was always a jovial sort.”

“He lived life to the hilt.” Darby pulled her gaze from the window, a sad haze dulling that bright blue. “And took whoever and whatever he wanted along on that ride with him.”

Finn took a seat opposite her, softening his voice. Since she hadn’t responded to his blunt approach, perhaps he’d get further if he slowed down a bit and actually listened to her. “Not a glowing testament to his personality or his life.”

“Sadly, no. But it doesn’t mean he deserved to die for it.” That gaze lifted to his, a blaze of fire igniting. “I didn’t kill my ex-husband. You have to believe me on that. I thought I was done with Bo Gage and have been living my life perfectly happy with that fact. How would I have possibly known the man left me in his will?”

“You were married to him.”

“And the day I filed for divorce, I changed my will to remove any trace of him. I’d have expected he’d do the same.”

“Well, he didn’t.”

“No, he didn’t. And instead of leaving me some sort of fabulous inheritance, he left me with bills, a dog unable to continue breeding and a business I have no interest in owning.”

Bills?

“I thought Bo’s business was strong and solvent. Our K-9 unit buys several of his dogs. I know he’s got others throughout the county who are on a waiting list for Penny’s puppies.”

“Then Bo expanded his business beyond what he could reasonably make.” She shrugged. “Another sign of the Bo Gage mystique. Make people think you’re successful and you are.”

Reluctantly, Finn saw the picture she painted, of a man with too much charm and too little sense. Regardless of the destruction he’d wrought, it was Finn’s job to do right by a murdered man. But that picture did point to someone who might have had more than a few enemies.

None of which explained why Darby needed to be stuck with her ex’s mistakes.

“So why keep the business?” Finn asked.

“Because I made a promise to Bo’s father that I’d try. And because I also feel a debt to Penny. She’s gone through an awful lot and she deserves as much care and attention as I can give her.”

For the first time since he’d seen the bleach bottle dangling from her hands did something ease inside Finn, tilting the scales from suspicion to sympathy. He wasn’t ready to let her off the hook—not by a long shot—but he also wasn’t entirely sure the woman who sat before him was guilty of murder.

Or even capable of it.

Which was when another thought struck him with even more force. It was so simple.

So easy.

And it would allow him to keep an eye on her while doing the necessary work to draw out the Groom Killer.

“What have you heard around town? About the murders.”

“Same as everyone else. The killer seems to have a strange fixation on men who are about to get married. Bo and Michael Hayden were both shot in the chest.” She hesitated the briefest moment before continuing on. “And rumors have been running high that your cousin Demi is responsible. Though I find that hard to believe.”

It was a curious observation, especially as he didn’t think Darby and Demi were particularly well acquainted, if at all. “Why’s that?”

“I know her to say hello. I’ve waited on her several times at the Red Ridge diner. She’s...well, she’s—” Darby broke off before offering up a lift of her shoulders. “She’s just so capable. Her reputation as a bounty hunter is rock solid.”

“Which means she knows her way around weapons.”

“Maybe.” Although her comment seemed to acknowledge the thought, skepticism rode her features, narrowing her gaze.

“Maybe?” Finn asked.

“It’s just that she’s so cool and confident. Demi Colton is not the sort of woman who murders a guy who can’t appreciate her. Especially if that guy was dumb enough to dump her for Hayley.”

“So you think it’s someone else?”

“Yes, I do. And that someone isn’t me,” she added in a rush.

That tempting idea snaked through his mind once more, sly in its promise of a solution to his current dilemma.

Catch a killer and keep an eye on Darby Gage. It’s not exactly a hardship to spend time with her.

“Maybe you can help me, then.”

“Help you how? I thought you were convinced I’m the town murderess.”

“I’m neither judge nor jury. It’s my job to find evidence to put away a killer and that’s what I’m looking to do.”

“Then what do you want with me?” The skepticism that had painted her features was further telegraphed in her words. Finn heard the clear notes of disbelief, but underneath them he heard something else.

Curiosity.

“Fingers pointing at my cousin isn’t all that’s going around town. What began as whispers has gotten louder with Michael Hayden’s murder.”

“What are people saying?”

Finn weighed his stupid idea, quickly racing through a mental list of pros and cons. Since the list was pretty evenly matched, it was only his desperation to find a killer that tipped the scales toward the pro.

With that goal in mind—closing this case and catching a killer as quickly as possible—he opted to go for broke.

“Bo Gage was killed the night of his bachelor party. Michael Hayden was killed the night of his rehearsal dinner. One thing the victims had in common—they were grooms-to-be. And in a matter of weeks half the town has called off any and all plans to get married or host an engagement party.”

“I still can’t see what this has to do with me.”

“If you’re as innocent as you say you are, surely you’d be willing to help me.”

“Help you do what?”

“Pretend to be my fiancée, Darby. Help me catch a killer.”