Читать книгу Her Colton P.i. - Amelia Autin - Страница 10

Chapter 3

“Oh, my God!”

Shock was obvious on Holly’s face, followed quickly by the emotion Chris hated the most—pity. He’d had a bellyful of pity in his life—from the time he was eleven and became a quasi-orphan, right up through Laura’s death almost two years ago. He didn’t want pity and he didn’t need it.

“My father killed nine men who reminded him of his hated brother, Big J Colton,” he said brusquely, “before he killed my mother...whose only crime was that she loved him. So don’t tell me the McCays couldn’t possibly kill their innocent grandchildren.”

“I...won’t.” The fear in Holly’s eyes surprised Chris, because it wasn’t fear of him. It wasn’t even fear for herself as a target of the McCays. No, the fear was for her children. Then her face changed, and the fear morphed into fierce determination to protect her children at all costs, no matter what. If Chris had needed one more bit of proof Holly McCay was a good mother, he’d just received it.

“They’re not getting anywhere near Ian and Jamie,” Holly stated unequivocally. “What do you want me to do?”

He glanced away and thought for a moment, then nodded to himself. His eyes met Holly’s. “I’ve got a house on the outskirts of Granite Gulch. No one lives there, but Peg looks after it for me, so it’s not...abandoned.” A wave of pain went through him and his right eye twitched as he remembered this was Laura’s dream house, the one he’d built for her right before she died. The house she’d never had a chance to live in. The house he couldn’t bear to occupy after her death. “It stands all by itself on several acres, and it’s up on a ridge—you can easily spot someone coming almost a mile away. I can’t think of a safer place for you and the boys to hide out.”

“Just us?”

“And me. Until we can set a trap for the McCays, I don’t want you out of my sight if I can help it.”

“What about your job? You can’t just—”

Chris’s jaw set tightly. “I run my own business. I haven’t taken a day off since Laura’s funeral, so I think I can manage this. Besides, I do a lot of my work over the phone or on the computer. I can work from the office in the house. We designed the house—” ...with that in mind, he started to say, but his throat closed before he could get the words out.

Holly didn’t respond at first, just assessed him with an enigmatic expression on her face. The silence stretched from ten seconds to twenty, to thirty. Nearly a minute had passed before she said, “Okay. I appreciate the offer. And I’ll accept it on my children’s behalf. If it was just me...that would be a different story, but it’s not.”

* * *

A half hour later everything Holly and the twins had with them was loaded into her SUV, with the exception of the two fold-a-cribs she’d bought when she moved to Rosewood. Chris stashed those in the back of his truck, and Holly realized if she’d taken Ian and Jamie and run, she would have had to leave the twins’ cribs behind—they just wouldn’t fit.

“I’ll follow you to Peg’s,” Chris said as he raised the hatch and clicked it firmly closed. “But first, we’d better stop in town and get some groceries. The utilities at the house are on—so we’ll have water and electricity—but there’s no food.”

Holly nodded. “Sounds good.”

“And while I’m at it, I’d better stop off and pack a suitcase, and pick up my laptop from my apartment. I live above the Double G Cakes and Pies.”

“Oh, I love that place!” she exclaimed. “Mia—the woman who runs it—she always gives Ian and Jamie special cookies she makes just for them.”

Chris smiled. “Sounds like Mia. She and my sister Annabel are best friends—they were foster sisters together.” His smile faded, replaced by the closed expression that was becoming familiar to Holly, and she knew instinctively this was another topic of conversation he’d never intended to bring up. Foster care joined the growing list of subjects to avoid...unless Chris brought it up himself.

As they drove the short distance to Granite Gulch, Holly wondered about Chris. About his motives for doing this—protecting her boys and her. She also couldn’t help wondering about his wife, Laura, and what had happened to her. Car accident? Some kind of illness, like cancer? Peg had never mentioned Laura that she could recall. But it wasn’t just idle curiosity. She really wanted to know, because it was obvious Chris had been in love with his wife.

Holly glanced in the rearview mirror at the man in the truck behind her and sighed. If only Grant had loved her the way Chris had loved his wife. If only...

She couldn’t help feeling a dart of envy comparing Chris to Grant. Not that Grant hadn’t been a good man—he had been. So very different from his parents. No, the problem was that Grant had been her best friend growing up, and while he’d loved her, he hadn’t been in love with her. Not the way she’d been in love with him.

She’d grieved for Grant. Those first few months after his death she’d been devastated...but she hadn’t been able to grieve for long. The McCays had seen to that.

Was that why I recovered from Grant’s death so quickly? she asked herself now. Because Grant’s parents tried to gain custody of Ian and Jamie and that took all my energy and concentration? Because when that didn’t work they tried to have me killed, forcing me to take my babies and flee?

The first time a car unexpectedly swerved into her lane on the expressway just as she was approaching an overpass, Holly had dismissed it as merely poor driving on someone’s part. The second similar attempt only two weeks later had raised her suspicions, especially since she thought she recognized the car. But the third try on her life had been the clincher—someone had deliberately attempted to run her down in the grocery store parking lot, and she’d escaped with her life only by diving between two parked cars as the vehicle in question sped away without stopping.

Holly glanced in the rearview mirror again. Or is the reason I’m not still grieving because Grant never loved me the way I wanted him to love me? The way I loved him.

She would never know. All she knew was that not quite a year after Grant’s death she was ready to move on with her life...if the McCays would let her.

* * *

Holly buckled Ian into one car seat while Chris buckled Jamie into the other. She’d been surprised at first at how baby-knowledgeable Chris was, but she quickly realized she shouldn’t be—Peg’s kids adored their “Unca Chris,” as Susan called him. Which meant even though she’d never met Chris at Peg’s house in the three months the two women had been friends, he had to be a fairly frequent visitor.

Holly turned back to thank Peg just as the other woman came out of the house with a bag of dog food balanced on one hip, a bag of doggy treats perched precariously on top and a leashed Wally dancing joyously beside her.

“What the—” Chris began, but Peg cut him off.

“Holly’s kids adore Wally, and he’s attached to them, so that will help the kids acclimate faster. Besides, it won’t hurt to have a guard dog out there, Chris. You know that. It’s why you got Wally for Laura in the first place.”

Chris’s slow smile did something to Holly’s heart. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but she wouldn’t have minded having that smile aimed at her.

“Thanks,” Chris said, relieving Peg of the dog, the dog food and the doggy treats before planting a kiss on her cheek. “Come on, boy,” he said, opening the door of his F-150 and letting Wally scramble up onto the front seat as Chris plopped the dog food on the floor.

Holly turned to Peg. “Thanks for watching the boys for me,” she said softly. “I wasn’t going to leave without telling you—please believe that.”

Peg smiled and hugged her. “I do.” She stepped back and her smile faded. “But you can’t run forever, Holly. I know it’s not easy, but sometimes you just have to face up to the truth and take a stand. Chris’s idea is better any way you look at it. You owe it to your boys to have the McCays put away so y’all can stop running.”

“I know.”

The two women embraced once more, and Peg whispered in her ear, “Chris needs to do this, Holly. I can’t explain, but he needs to do this. So just let him take care of you and your boys.”

* * *

Chris drove at a sedate pace—unlike his usual hell-bent-for-leather style—watching Holly’s SUV in his rearview mirror, making sure he didn’t lose her. And as he drove he wondered about her. Not the facts and figures he’d uncovered in his investigation—he already knew far too much about her past, much more than most people would find out in a year of knowing her.

He knew where she’d grown up, what had happened to her parents, where she’d gone to college and where she’d worked after graduation. He knew she’d been a stay-at-home mom when her husband had been sideswiped on the I-45 in Houston, triggering a massive pileup that had killed three people...but not the drunk who’d instigated the accident—a driver who’d been using a revoked license, and who now resided in the state prison. He knew how much Holly had received from her husband’s insurance, and he knew how much her twins had inherited from their father in the trust the McCays had told him about—just about the only truth in their pack of lies.

But he didn’t care about all that. What he wanted to know was what made her tick. She obviously loved her sons. Had she loved their father? His investigation hadn’t uncovered any men in her life other than her now-deceased husband, which put her head and shoulders above most of the women he’d been hired to investigate. While the bulk of his work was doing background checks for a couple of major defense contractors in the Dallas–Fort Worth area, as well as extensive white-collar-crime investigation, no PI could completely avoid divorce work. Infidelities were profitable.

But the cases that eviscerated him were the noncustodial kidnappings. He’d had half a dozen of those cases in his career, three of which he’d taken pro bono, the same way he’d taken the McCays’ case. What he wouldn’t accept—could never accept—were people who deliberately separated children from the rest of their family for no real reason except selfishness. Not just parent and child, but also brothers and sisters.

His foster parents had done that. They’d deliberately isolated him from most of his siblings growing up. They hadn’t been able to keep Chris away from his twin sister, Annabel—Granite Gulch had only one high school, and they’d had classes together from day one.

But his foster parents had done their best to keep them apart anyway—even grounding him on the slightest of pretexts and piling him with a heap of after-school chores in addition to his homework—but Annabel had needed him. And beneath his laid-back exterior, Chris had always been something of a white knight. His twin had come first...even if it meant being perpetually grounded.

Chris had managed to reconnect with the rest of his siblings once he was an adult—all except his baby sister, Josie—but he could never get back those growing-up years he’d spent without his four brothers. Without those close familial bonds brothers often formed. That could have made a difference in all their lives, especially given their tragic family history.

That was why he’d taken those pro bono cases in the first place, one of which had come early in his career, when he’d been struggling to make ends meet. But he couldn’t turn down a case involving children. Which was why he’d almost fallen for the McCays’ sob story. Which was also why he was taking on the toughest case of his career to date—protecting Holly, Ian and Jamie McCay.

* * *

“Four bedrooms, Holly,” Chris said as he shifted Ian into his left arm and unlocked the front door, then keyed in the code to disengage the alarm system. “Take your pick. Let me know which one you want for the twins, and I’ll set up their fold-a-cribs. One of the bedrooms is—”

He broke off for a heartbeat, then attempted to finish his sentence, but Holly said quickly, “I want them with me.” She cuddled Jamie, who was starting to fret. “I know all the baby books say it’s a bad idea, but ever since...well, ever since we left Clear Lake City, Ian and Jamie have stayed in the same room with me. First in the motels and then in the Rosewood Rooming House. I’m afraid they’ll be scared if I try to change that tonight, especially since this is a new place to them and all.” She smiled down at the toddler in her arms. “Yes, Jamie, I know you’re hungry. Give Mommy a few minutes, please. Okay, sweetie?”

“If that’s what works,” Chris said, “then it’d probably be best if you took the master bedroom. It’s a lot bigger than the others, more room for both cribs.”

“But that’s your bedroom,” she protested. “I don’t want to put you out of—”

Chris shook his head. “I’ve never lived here. Never slept a night in that room. So you wouldn’t be putting me out.”

I did it again, Holly thought as that closed expression replaced Chris’s smiling demeanor. She put Jamie down, and he clung to her leg. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was quiet. “You’re going out of your way to help us, and I...I keep saying the wrong thing.”

Chris lowered Ian to the floor but kept a wary eye on him so the toddler didn’t wander off. “Not your fault,” he said gruffly. He herded Ian toward Holly with a gentle foot. “Why don’t you give these two some lunch while I get everything unloaded? I’ll bring in the groceries and the high chairs first.”

* * *

Chris set up the fold-a-cribs in the master bedroom while Holly fed the twins. As he’d told Holly, the master bedroom held no memories for him, except...Laura had picked out the furniture. She’d picked out everything in the house...without him. Her dream house, she’d laughingly called it. But he’d been too busy to go with her, so she’d gone without him. She’d driven into Fort Worth with her sister, armed with the platinum credit card Chris had given her, and she’d furnished the house, room by room.

That was where she’d been exposed to viral meningitis. Somewhere in Fort Worth she’d come into contact with a carrier of the disease. Much later the Center for Disease Control had reported a mini outbreak of viral meningitis in Fort Worth—too late. Laura had never mentioned the subsequent symptoms she’d experienced to Chris—the severe headache, fever and neck stiffness—and he hadn’t noticed. He’d been too busy to—

His cell phone rang abruptly, startling him out of his sad reverie. “Chris Colton,” he answered, recognizing the phone number.

The voice of one of the administrative assistants in his Fort Worth office sounded in his ear. “Chris? It’s Teri. Angus McCay just called. He wants to know the status on his case. I told him you’d call him. Do you need the number?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks. Oh, and, Teri, I’ll send an email, but can you let everyone in all three offices know I won’t be in for the next few days? Something personal has come up I need to take care of. They can reach me by phone or email if it’s urgent. And if any other client calls come in, have Zach or Jimmy deal with them.”

“Sure thing, Chris.”

He sensed the question Teri wanted to ask but wouldn’t. His staff knew not to ask because that’s the kind of manager he was—he kept his personal life and his business life completely separate. Chris disconnected, then thumbed through his phone book until he found the listing for Angus McCay and picked the office number. The phone rang only twice before it was answered.

“Angus McCay.”

“Chris Colton here. You called me?”

Angus McCay cleared his throat. “I know you told us you’d let us know if you found Holly, Mr. Colton, but...it’s been a week and we haven’t heard from you. My wife...well, she wanted me to call you and see if you’ve made any progress.”

“Not to worry, Mr. McCay,” Chris assured him, his mind working swiftly. “I tracked Holly to Grand Prairie, but she gave me the slip.” He deliberately named Grand Prairie because Holly had stayed there...just not recently. And Grand Prairie was southeast of Fort Worth, nowhere near Granite Gulch. “I’m hot on her trail, though. I think she might have moved northeast to Irving.” Another place Holly really had stayed...briefly. “Just sit tight, and I’ll let you know as soon as I have something concrete.”

“It’s not just our grandchildren at stake, you know. They still haven’t caught the Alphabet Killer and...well...you see how it is. Holly’s name begins with H.”

Yeah, Chris thought. Keep beating that drum. How stupid do you take me for? “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Mr. McCay. Both Grand Prairie and Irving are closer to Dallas than to Fort Worth, and the Alphabet Killer isn’t striking anywhere near there.”

“Okay, well...just remember, if you find Holly, we don’t want you to do anything to scare her off. Just let us know and we’ll fly up from Houston immediately. If we can just see that the boys are okay...if we can just talk to Holly...”

“You bet,” Chris told him. “I’ll keep you posted. And don’t worry, Mr. McCay. Holly won’t slip through my fingers next time.” He disconnected just as a sound from the doorway made him swing around. Holly stood there, white as a ghost, a twin balanced on each hip.