Читать книгу The Colton Sheriff - Addison Fox - Страница 12

Aisha settled herself in the last row of the public meeting room at the back of the Bradford County Community Center. As county seat, Roaring Springs had a number of buildings devoted to local government matters, and this one saw regular use. Public hearings, voting and a host of other issues were considered, discussed and decided inside these four walls.

She’d never been a particularly large joiner, but she’d discovered her interest in public discussion once Trey had taken on his job as sheriff. What had begun as support of her best friend remained that way, but it had given her new perspective into the workings of local government. Sometimes mundane and often quite functional, Aisha had to admit it was never boring. And it gave continued perspective on her life’s work: human nature in all its glory.

Tonight’s agenda was an open discussion of the Avalanche Killer’s crimes and proposed increases in local law enforcement. Which was a bit of a joke since the FBI had already descended en masse to deal with the situation. This was their domain, and even though bodies hadn’t been found across multiple states, the Feds weren’t leaving this one alone.

Still, Aisha knew this hearing was a prime opportunity for Trey to make his authority clear to their citizenry. She saw several others scattered around the room, there to give him the additional support of friendly faces. His parents, Calvin and Audrey, sat in the middle toward the front. Close enough to be supportive but far enough away to give him space. His trusted deputy, Daria Bloom, was in the front row. She sat tall and straight in her seat, her uniform as immaculately pressed at six o’clock at night as it no doubt had been that morning.

Aisha continued her perusal. She eyed a few more people scattered around the room, including several Coltons, a few resort employees from The Lodge as well as the local hotel and spa, The Chateau, and a guy Trey had already pointed out to her as FBI, Agent Stefan Roberts.

She’d nearly turned her attention back to the front when her gaze alighted on the doorway and the last-minute entrant to the meeting.

Barton Evigan.

He strode in as if he owned the place, a smirk on his face. It was a step up from the perpetual sneer she usually saw there but not by much. He had a few people with him, a guy she recognized as his campaign manager and a slim, mousy woman who had to be his wife. They all took seats in the front row.

So not good.

Aisha pulled out her notes and scanned them once more. Although she and Trey had kept her involvement with the crimes to themselves, she had prepared a few arguments as a Roaring Springs resident who was concerned about the killings and who had a background qualified enough to raise the proper points. Nothing she’d prepared would contradict anything already publicized in the news, but it would put a clinician’s spin on the details in hopes of calming some riled nerves. Based on the rumors she’d already heard since walking in, the town’s citizens were ready to lock up all young women between the ages of fifteen and thirty in hopes of keeping them safe.

The murmuring that started behind her pulled Aisha from her thoughts, and she finally turned around, curious to what had created the hubbub. The meeting still had about five minutes until things were called to order so it wasn’t that slight buzz that swelled just before things started. It was only when a few people still milling around the back parted that Aisha saw the reason for the fuss.

They had a genuine movie star in their midst.

Obviously hoping to sneak in unrecognized, Prescott Reynolds had missed that mark completely. He had Phoebe Colton, one of Trey’s younger cousins, on his arm. Although the two of them presented a united front, clearly in love by their connected body language and close heads bent toward each other, their stiff shoulders telegraphed they were both uncomfortable, as well.

Aisha didn’t know Phoebe well, but the moment she caught the young woman’s eyes, she waved the couple over. The back row still had plenty of room, people anxious for any drips or drabs of gossip having filled in the front. Their voracious appetites now worked in Prescott’s and Phoebe’s favor.

Phoebe nodded at the invitation and in moments the two of them were seated beside Aisha.

“Thank you for the quick rescue,” Phoebe whispered as she settled into her seat.

Aisha didn’t miss the way Prescott’s arm wrapped around Phoebe’s slim shoulders or his clear protectiveness of her.

“Let me introduce you,” Phoebe said.

It was the work of a few seconds for Aisha to meet one of the world’s most recognizable movie stars. And although her heart had long beat for Trey Colton, she couldn’t deny its rapid speed at the heartbreakingly attractive face that stared back at her. Prescott Reynolds was warm and observably kind. Handsome as sin, too. The camera didn’t lie when framing his image, but if anything, it failed to truly capture his dazzling blue eyes or thousand-watt smile.

Despite the fanfare that seemed to follow him everywhere, she liked him instantly.

He was also obviously in love with Phoebe.

The two had gone public with their relationship the prior week and it had been the one thing that had given Trey a slight reprieve from the endless barrage of press. While a killer on the loose was and would remain big news, the romance of a major Hollywood heartthrob had added a delicious twist to the endless coverage in Roaring Springs.

Trey had also told her that the couple’s willingness to go public wasn’t just about their personal happiness. His cousin Skye was Phoebe’s twin sister. With her sister missing, Phoebe was desperate for any way to find her, and the constant images on the TV and internet were hopefully a way to draw Skye out. The thought was, if Skye had simply gone away on her own, she would see the news and get in contact. But if she were missing, there was a greater hope the publicity surrounding her twin’s happiness would draw out a killer.

A dangerous game, Aisha knew. Sadly, she couldn’t find fault in their logic.

The meeting was called to order, and the murmuring at the movie star in their midst died down as the town focused their attention on the front of the room. Trey came out, along with several other county leaders and the mayor of Roaring Springs, who acted as a moderator for these meetings and presented a connection point for the county seat and the broader proceedings in Bradford County.

The mayor set up the purpose of the meeting and in moments turned the mic over to Trey. He’d barely stood and begun to make his arguments for increased patrols, personnel support and the approval of overtime when Barton Evigan started in.

“Great idea. Spend more money on an already mismanaged case. Smart move, Sheriff.”

Trey never fumbled but even in the back row Aisha saw the narrowing of his mouth and the steel that filled his deep brown eyes. “We’ve followed protocol every step of the way.”

“This should have been wrapped up weeks ago. You’ve Keystone-Copped this from the start. Sheriff.” Evigan’s pointed use of the word sheriff clearly wasn’t a sign of respect. And while she couldn’t see his face from her seat, Aisha had no doubt the man’s smirk had vanished and that sneer was firmly back in place.

“We are in the midst of a thorough investigation over the death of six women. I’d hate to shortchange any of their lives or the crimes perpetrated against them out of a concern for poor publicity.”

Score! Aisha thought with no small measure of satisfaction. Trey had refused to go on the offensive with Barton but he had every right to defend himself. Pushing on the publicity angle was one of the best blocks he had.

“So in the meantime you put the rest of the town at risk for a serial killer.”

Clearly done with Barton and his taunting, Trey stood up. He wore his dress uniform, the starched press of khaki only making his shoulders look broader and more authoritative. “This investigation isn’t a TV show, Mr. Evigan. I’m not looking for a daily spot on the evening news. I want the perpetrator of these heinous crimes apprehended and put behind bars as quickly as possible. But I will not put this investigation at risk, making shoddy decisions over protocol, because of uninformed hecklers poking at the work done by the good men and women of my department.”

The tide of the meeting turned in Trey’s favor, several hoots and hollers swelling up along with the clapping. Evigan had enough sense to sit down but Aisha could still see the hunch of his shoulders. It reminded her of a wounded animal, biding its time as it waited to strike.

“Real charming guy,” Prescott said. “I can’t believe that clown is running for sheriff against Colton.”

His voice was low enough not to carry all the way to the front, but it could be overheard by the people sitting a few rows in front of them. Aisha had already seen their furtive glances back toward Prescott, and their excitement that he was in their presence. Although Aisha wanted Trey to win the reelection fairly and squarely, the clear endorsement in his favor, from an influential celebrity, no less, was a big help.

The meeting continued with little interruption. One of the town’s matrons asked about overall public safety with her grandchildren coming in for a two-week visit. Trey assured her they were on high alert and refocused her attention on some upcoming activities sponsored by the local tourism board designed for family-fun days throughout the month of August.

What he didn’t mention but Aisha knew was that the risk to children and families was relatively low. Unless cornered, the Avalanche Killer had a specific pattern in victim selection. Small children—thankfully—didn’t fit that MO.

It was only when Russ Colton spoke up that the room seemed to take on a new vibe.

“I appreciate all you’re doing, Trey. There’s no one in town I respect to keep law and order more than my brother’s son. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t air my concerns about tourism. The film festival last month had a few hitches, as we all know. My daughter Skye is still missing. How are we supposed to rest easy?”

“Oh, boy.” Phoebe whispered the words under her breath and reached for Prescott’s hand while Aisha raced over her notes once more, hoping to find something to diffuse the situation.

She’d barely stood, hoping to take the mic floating around the room, when Barton beat her to the punch. The obnoxious ass didn’t even wait for the mic, he just launched in with his latest round of shouting.

“Even your family’s getting worried, Sheriff Colton! If the big, bad, rich Colton family is worried, what does that say for the rest of Roaring Springs? For all of Bradford County! What do you have to say to that?”

* * *

Trey employed every single ounce of self-control he possessed not to lash out at Evigan. The man was a troublemaker, and while Russ had technically started round two, his uncle’s concern for Skye was palpable. His cousin had been missing for well over a month and the family was on high alert as to why she’d gone missing and desperate for some way to get her back.

The death of a prostitute earlier in the year had provoked upset, of course. No one wanted any whiff of murder in and around tourists, especially at the height of the ski season. But practicality had also won out at the time. The death of Bianca Rouge was deemed sad and momentarily troubling, but ultimately a blip in the high-stakes life that went on for the wealthy high rollers who stayed at The Lodge.

The death of Sabrina Gilford, however, had changed Russ’s tune. He might be willing to overlook a few dismaying events in the life of running a major tourism empire, but the risk to his missing baby girl was something else entirely.

Trey had always tolerated his uncle. His prominent family had given him both a privileged upbringing and a huge albatross around his neck when he decided to run for public office. The change in Russ over the past few weeks had been somewhat refreshing to see. Even if Trey hated the reason for it.

“Mr. Colton, I understand your upset and can assure you we’re all working toward the same outcome. A safe return of your daughter. A positive identification for the women discovered on the mountain. And a quick capture of the Avalanche Killer. The department is working as hard as it can to achieve all of those things as expediently as possible.”

“Yeah, right,” Barton shouted back.

Trey ignored the heckles and kept his focus on Russ, opting at the last minute to take a more personal tack. “What we need from you, Uncle Russ, from all of you—” he stopped, allowing his gaze to roam around the room, settling on all of the assembled townsfolk who’d come in for the proceedings “—is vigilance. We get a lot of strangers in and out of town as a tourism mecca. They come here for a good time and to forget their own lives for a while. We shouldn’t become suspicious of them but we should remain on our guard. Friendly but focused. Aware of who’s visiting us.”

“That’s your answer to catching a deranged serial killer?” Barton heckled again, this comment getting more murmurs and a few more “oh, yeahs” from the crowd.

Trey ignored Barton and pressed on. “The public’s safety is in our hands. And based on the bodies we’re still trying to identify from the base of that mountain, someone around here didn’t want to let some of the kind souls who’ve visited here go home.”

As public disclosures went, it was ham-fisted and clumsy, but Trey had vowed to share what he could, when he could, with his constituents. Nothing in all their investigating had turned up a local connection with the victims and Roaring Springs or, even more broadly, Bradford County until Sabrina Gilford. Which meant they had a different issue on their hands.

A local killer who captured—nay, depended upon—those who came from somewhere else to feed his bloodlust.

A muttered “way to kill the tourism industry” echoed loud enough from the audience to draw Trey’s attention, but it was the lone figure who stood in the back who redirected his attention.

Aisha.

She stood there like a warrior goddess, her lithe frame, strong from the kickboxing she loved so much, graceful amid the chaos of the meeting. Trey gestured one of the room’s moderators toward her with a microphone. Once she had the mic, she waited a few extra seconds until the room quieted enough.

“Sheriff Colton is correct.” Aisha let her words stand and echo from the speakers for an extra few beats before speaking again. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Aisha Allen and I’m a clinical psychologist with a practice here in Roaring Springs. I’ve consulted on cases throughout more than a decade of clinical work, and the thoroughness Sheriff Colton and his deputies are using to work this case is by the book.”

“We don’t have time for by the book!” Evigan shouted. “Not with a killer on the loose!”

To Aisha’s credit, she barely looked at the man. Instead, she pressed on, her tone authoritative and her focus absolute. “Identification is crucial to a successful outcome in this case. The care taken to preserve the crime scene and the bodies, in spite of a major natural disaster, is first-rate. The quick identification of Miss Gilford was solid forensics work. And the focus on keeping peace and order while hunting a killer is a testament to the man we elected. I’d suggest we allow Sheriff Colton and his deputies to do their work without our interference.”

Trey’s gaze drifted to Daria, sitting proud and tall in the front row, and saw the subtle, barely there smile that ghosted her lips. She rarely smiled but Aisha’s endorsement had seemingly struck a nerve. His gaze drifted on to Stefan Roberts a few seats down. The man had played fair with Trey so far, but he had little expectation the FBI wasn’t running its own op as quietly as possible, more than prepared to take all the credit for closing the case.

In all honesty, Trey couldn’t care less who got the credit—he wanted this done and a killer caught—but he had toyed with asking to collaborate. In the end, however, he’d decided he and his team would get further working their own side of things, bringing the FBI in when they finally had something to collaborate on.

In the meantime, Aisha was his girl and she hadn’t failed him once. Her insights were spot-on and even her ability to diffuse the tension filling the room was first-rate.

She maintained that strong posture as she held the microphone, her professionalism more than evident. “This is a difficult time for all of us. I have several patients who’ve expressed their concerns and the emotional impact of what we face as a community. Furthermore, I’ve spoken with my fellow medical professionals and we’re all focused on extending help and care to those who need it.”

The deliberate approach and Aisha’s willingness to make the discussion caring and compassionate took the rest of the bluster right out of the room. The murmurs quieted and Trey saw how people turned toward their companions, considering her words in low, quiet voices. The mayor took the opportunity of that lull in the discussion to bring things back on track and readdress the purpose of the session. Within a half hour, Trey had what he’d come for:

An expanded remit to add on overtime as needed.

Additional deputies sourced from surrounding counties.

And the agreement he’d wanted most of all: the ability to add on a civilian consultant to the work as he saw fit.

* * *

Aisha stood in the back of the meeting room with Calvin and Audrey Colton as they all waited for Trey. His parents had found her the moment the session ended, weaving their way through the throngs of people who hurried forward to the elevated dais in front.

She’d loved Trey’s parents since she was a small child, their home always a place of warmth and welcome. And animals. Oh, she’d loved the horses that had made their home along with the Colton family on a large spread just outside the Roaring Springs town limits. She’d always been welcomed with open arms, spending her carefree summers playing with Trey and his younger sister, Bree.

Aisha had worked hard to make friends at school as well—and had succeeded over time, still cherishing several friendships she’d had since grade school—but there had always been something special about Trey Colton and his parents.

For one, his mom looked like her. It was a funny thought—one she’d had less and less as she’d grown up—but one that had been important to her as a child. Attending college in New York had helped expand her social circle wider, but Roaring Springs, Colorado, twenty years ago wasn’t a particular hotbed of diversity. To have a woman in her life besides a family member who was also a woman of color had meant a lot to her.

As a result, her own mother had always understood and accepted her bond with Audrey Colton.

Although they’d remained close, Aisha had seen less and less of Trey’s parents over the past few years. The busyness of her practice and her ever-growing list of patients had made free time more of a luxury than she’d like, and it was lovely to sink right back into conversation.

“I saw your mother at the market a few weeks ago. She said Tanisha is expecting.”

“Late winter,” Aisha added. “She’s been on my mom to keep quiet about it and let her get to three months but has pretty much accepted that’s not going to happen.”

“Not if the broad smile and big gleam in your mother’s eye was any indication.” Audrey pulled her close for a warm hug. “Congratulations on becoming an aunt.”

Aisha accepted the affectionate hug and thought about her baby sister, planning the arrival of a new life early next year. They were all so excited, but it was hard to imagine bringing a child into the world when so much of it seemed so out of control. As a psychologist, she knew the desire to hunker down and shelter in place was a fight-or-flight response to the scary reality of a killer on the loose. But as a sister and a soon-to-be aunt...

She’d been struggling with how scary it all was. She could only hope Trey got a handle on the killer before anything else could happen. Or anyone else could be harmed.

“There he is. The star of the show.”

Calvin slapped his son on the back and Audrey waited before pulling Trey close for a kiss. Trey went willingly, sinking into the warm acceptance of his parents, and Aisha noticed, not for the first time, what a unit they were.

She had always been lucky to have her mother and her sister. They had struggled for money but never for love, the three of them forging a bond that would never be broken. It had been one of the hardest things ever to leave Roaring Springs and go two thousand miles away to college, but it was her mother who’d encouraged her every step of the way.

And it was her mother who, even now, pushed her to tell Trey how she really felt about him.

Aisha hated that she was so transparent and hoped that it was only a mother’s love for her daughter that made her quite so perceptive. She hated to think that Trey knew how she felt. Or worse...that his parents sensed the same and felt sorry for her.

How embarrassing.

Turning away from the threesome, she’d nearly made an excuse to go get something from the refreshment table when a loud, booming voice floated over them all.

“Well, look here.”

Barton Evigan had ditched his campaign manager somewhere in the room—or if the manager was smart the man had ditched his unworthy candidate—and had only his wife on his arm. The woman had the decency to look slightly embarrassed but it was quickly overshadowed by her reticence to speak or barely move in the man’s presence.

Aisha’s training kicked in and she was already thinking of a way to speak to the woman when Barton shot out more venom, his lips curled into a snarl. “Someone sure does have a fan.”

Sadly, Aisha was no stranger to racist remarks—subtle or otherwise—but the clear vitriol evident in a man running for public office surprised even her.

Before she could say anything, Calvin Colton was in the man’s face, his broader shoulders and intimidating height eclipsing Evigan. Even well into his sixties, Calvin’s fierce protection was something to behold. “Are you suggesting something untoward against my son, my wife and our dear family friend?”

Evigan eyed them all before gathering himself. “I was simply suggesting you Coltons all stick together.”

“Right.” Calvin spat the word. “That was your meaning.”

Although Trey’s dad had the height advantage, Barton still had youth on his side and it was enough to have his worse nature coming through. “You want to suggest otherwise?”

Audrey laid a hand on Calvin’s arm. She didn’t say anything, but her touch had the calming effect of diffusing her husband. He stepped away, his disdain evident as he presented his back to Barton. “Not worth another moment of our time.”

For the briefest moment, Aisha thought Barton was going to cause a physical altercation, hate along with something dark and oily filling his gaze, before he seemed to think better of it. He turned back to his wife, grabbing her by the upper arm and dragging her from the community center, her feet running double time to keep up with him.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Trey turned to Aisha, encompassing her in the apology. “You did nothing but support me in there.”

“And I’m going to keep supporting you. There and to anyone who will listen.” Aisha moved up into his orbit, wrapping an arm around his waist. The solid warmth of his chest practically knocked every rational thought from her mind, but she hung on, determined to make him understand. “I’m in your corner, Colton. I always have been and always will be. Apologize again and I’m dragging you out back and trying my latest kickboxing moves on you.”

Trey hesitated momentarily, a sort of dazed expression filling his dark brown eyes before he blinked out of it. “Okay.” He held up a hand. “No ass kicking required.”

She held his gaze another moment before nodding. “See that it stays that way.”

It was Trey’s father who spoke first. “Let’s get out of here and go have some ice cream.”

“Dad, I’ve got—”

Audrey shut Trey down before he could make any other excuses. “Come on. We’re all entitled to some ice cream and the huckleberry cobbler I made this afternoon.”

“You made cobbler?” Trey’s voice grew animated, and with it, Aisha heard the tones of their youth. Trey Colton had never been very good at resisting huckleberry cobbler. Or any other kind of cobbler, come to think of it.

Audrey turned toward her. “Aisha, you in?”

“Sure.” She thought of the weight bag she’d have to keep after in the morning but didn’t especially mind. “I’ll suffer through an extra fifteen minutes of cardio tomorrow.”

Trey’s mother only shook her head. “You young people and your insistence on all this exercise. It boggles the mind.”

“You look great, Mrs. Colton.” Aisha eyed the older woman’s trim figure and still-slim frame. “You must do something to stay in shape.”

“I run a farm with my husband. Never once have I regretted eating ice cream made from the cows I milk or dessert made from the crops I grow.”

As Aisha followed Calvin and Audrey out to the parking lot, the two of them walking her to her car while Trey headed for his patrol car, she had to give credit where it was due. She’d never give up her psychology practice, but there was something to be said for daily physical labor and the fruits of that hard work.

An hour later, sitting on the Colton’s front porch, full of vanilla ice cream and cobbler, Aisha amended the thought.

There was something about enjoying the fruits of one’s labor. But it was even sweeter when you shared it with others.