Читать книгу Colton K-9 Bodyguard - Lara Lacombe - Страница 12

Chapter 3

“I want to see my daughter. Right now.” Fenwick Colton’s voice rose in volume with every word until he was practically shouting in Micah’s face. Micah took a deep breath and mentally counted to five. He’d never had the best relationship with Mr. Colton—the man had made it very clear he didn’t approve of Micah dating Bea while they were in high school, and it seemed that time had not softened the sharper edges of the older man’s temper.

“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible at the moment,” Micah said calmly. No matter how much he disliked Fenwick, he wasn’t going to lose his control. If Micah showed any kind of emotion or anger, Fenwick would undoubtedly use it against him.

The man stepped forward, infringing on Micah’s personal space. “I know who you are,” he hissed, staring up at Micah with obvious hatred in his eyes. “You’re that skinny kid who tried to trap my Bea into marriage when she was just eighteen. Didn’t you figure out she doesn’t want you?”

The barb hit home, but Micah had expected a personal attack from Fenwick. He stared down at the man, his poker face in place. At this angle, Fenwick’s blond toupee looked even more fake, and Micah realized that for all of Fenwick’s bluster, he was likely very insecure.

“Is there a problem here?”

Both Micah and Fenwick turned at the sound of the voice, and Micah felt a jolt of relief as he caught sight of Finn Colton, the K-9 unit chief, approaching.

“No problem,” Micah said smoothly. “I was just about to explain to Mister Colton the fact that Bea is a material witness in a murder case, and I don’t want her speaking to anyone outside of her medical team until I’ve had a chance to interview her.”

“You can’t keep me from my daughter!” Fenwick shouted, his face growing red with anger.

Finn turned to his uncle.

“Actually, he can. Bea is an adult, and therefore you do not have a right to have access to her until the officer in charge of the investigation has completed his questioning.”

Fenwick’s expression grew murderous. “You’re saying he’s in charge of the investigation?” He jerked a thumb at Micah, evidently unwilling to even look at him anymore.

“That’s correct,” Finn confirmed. “As the officer who discovered both Bea and the victim in her shop, Micah is the man on point.”

“But...but...” Fenwick sputtered. Then a sly look entered his eyes, and he shot Micah a satisfied glare before turning his attention back to Finn. “It’s inappropriate for Officer Shaw to lead this investigation.” He practically spat the word, making it clear just what he thought about Micah’s job title. “He and my daughter have a history of personal involvement. I doubt he can be impartial about his job since Bea rejected him.” He smiled triumphantly, clearly proud of himself.

Micah opened his mouth to explain that he hadn’t seen Bea in years, but he needn’t have bothered.

“That was ages ago,” Finn said in a tone of long-suffering patience. “I have no doubts about Officer Shaw’s capabilities, and I know he will conduct both himself and this investigation with the utmost professionalism.”

Fenwick’s smile slid off his face and his mouth turned down, giving him the look of a man who had just sucked on a lemon. “I see,” he said, practically choking on the words. “Your superior officer will hear about this.”

Finn nodded, as if he’d expected this reaction. “Let me know if you have trouble contacting him.”

Fenwick walked to the far corner of the waiting room, his body stiff with anger. He was not used to being refused, and Micah could see that the older man did not handle disappointment very well.

“Thank you,” Micah said in a low voice.

Finn nodded. “Anytime.” He watched his uncle for a moment, then turned back to Micah. “Talk to me about what you found. Brayden wasn’t too forthcoming about the details.”

Micah related his actions in the alley and Chunk’s discovery of Bea. “I called for backup, and once Brayden arrived he and Chunk went through the rest of the shop, searching for any signs of the intruder who had attacked Bea.”

“So, Brayden made the initial discovery of the body in the fitting room?”

Micah nodded. “Yes. I went to the scene after the paramedics had arrived and were taking care of Bea.”

“What did you find?”

“At first glance, another victim of the Groom Killer.” Micah ran a hand through his hair. “Looked to me like Joey McBurn. He was slumped in a fitting room chair, and he appeared to have been shot through the heart. There was a black cummerbund stuffed into his mouth like the other two victims.”

Finn digested this bit of information. “Any signs of tampering?” he asked delicately.

Micah frowned. “Not to my eye.” Was the chief suggesting Brayden had altered the scene to throw suspicion off his sister, Demi? Micah supposed it was a possibility, but it hardly seemed likely. Everyone on the force knew Brayden Colton was upset at the thought of Demi as a killer, but he was still a good cop and an honorable man. Besides, any such tampering would be clearly evident once the forensics report came back, and Brayden knew that as well as the rest of the team.

But there was one other piece of information that made Micah confident his friend hadn’t done anything stupid. “Brayden and Chunk weren’t gone very long,” he said. “And after they discovered the body, Brayden didn’t return to the fitting room alone.”

Finn nodded, apparently satisfied by this news. “That’s good to know,” he said. “It’s important the investigation is above reproach.”

“We’re not going to drop the ball on this one,” Micah said confidently.

“I know you won’t,” Finn replied. He angled his head in the direction of Bea’s hospital room. “So, do you think she saw anything?”

“I’m not sure,” Micah admitted. “It’s possible the killer knocked her out before shooting Joey. Or maybe Bea heard the gunshot and went to explore, and that’s when the killer attacked.”

Finn frowned. “If that’s the case, why is she still alive? Surely the perp wouldn’t be so careless as to leave behind an eyewitness?”

“Maybe there wasn’t time to kill her,” Micah suggested. “It’s possible the killer intended to finish her off, but got spooked and ran.” Or maybe, he thought privately, Demi couldn’t stomach the thought of shooting her cousin.

A cold chill skittered through his body at the thought of Bea lying unconscious on the ground, at the mercy of a murderer towering over her helpless body. Whatever the reason, Micah was glad Bea’s life had been spared.

The elevator at the end of the hall let out a faint ding, and the doors opened to reveal Brayden along with Carson Gage, a fellow K-9 officer, and Shane Colton, a PI who worked with the department. The three men wore serious expressions, and Micah’s interest spiked. What was going on?

Carson spoke first. “We’ve got news.”

“Your initial witness, Tucker Frane, who claimed to see Demi Colton shoot someone in the alley?” said Shane. Micah nodded, and he continued. “Dead in his home.”

“What?” That was too coincidental for Micah’s taste.

Carson nodded. “Yep. We went to his house to ask him a few more questions about what he’d seen. He didn’t answer, but the door was ajar so we entered. Man was shot dead in his recliner.”

“No witnesses, I suppose?” Micah asked.

Shane shook his head. “Neighbors didn’t see or hear anything.”

“Of course not,” Micah muttered. They rarely did.

“We put a rush on ballistics,” Carson said. “We need to see if the same gun killed the witness and the man in the fitting room.” He cast a subtle glance at Brayden.

“My sister didn’t do this,” Brayden said quietly. “I know she didn’t.”

“All we can go on is evidence,” Finn said. “Her name written in blood by the body of the first victim. Her necklace found at the scene. She was spotted running in the shadows at the time of death. Now, we have a witness—a dead witness—who says he saw her shoot a man in the alley near Bea’s shop.”

“Two bodies in one night is strange,” Carson put in.

“Two bodies?” The men turned as a group to find Fenwick Colton lurking on the edge of the circle, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Someone else was killed tonight?”

Micah clenched his jaw. He’d been so focused on listening to the other men he hadn’t noticed Fenwick come back. Now the businessman was privy to information he shouldn’t have, and Fenwick didn’t know the meaning of the word discretion.

“Sir,” he began, trying not to choke on the word.

Fenwick ignored him. “Why haven’t you arrested Demi yet?” he demanded. “It’s been clear from the start she’s the Groom Killer, and now she’s gone and murdered someone else. When are you people going to do your jobs?”

Brayden sucked in a breath, and Micah glanced over to see that his friend was on the verge of an explosion. Brayden’s face had turned dark red, and his body was tense with anger. Micah put a restraining hand on Brayden’s forearm, hoping he wouldn’t lose his temper. If he lashed out at his uncle, Fenwick was just spiteful enough to take the matter up the chain of command and Brayden could very well lose his job.

Finn appeared to recognize the gravity of the situation as well, and he moved forward, forcing Fenwick back a step and blocking Brayden’s view of their uncle. “Mister Colton,” he said sharply. “You are interfering in official police business. Unless you want to be brought up on charges, I suggest you walk away and keep your opinions on this matter to yourself.”

Fenwick blinked at his nephew’s tone. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said. But there was a flicker of fear in his eyes that belied his apparent confidence.

Finn leaned in close. “Try me,” he said softly.

Micah bit back a grin as Fenwick paled. He shot a hateful glare at Micah before retreating a few steps, turning his focus to the TV mounted in the far corner of the waiting room.

The elevator at the end of the hall dinged again, and Bea’s sisters Layla, Gemma and Patience walked out. Patience, the veterinarian at the K-9 training center, gave him a nod as the group walked over to their father, and Micah relaxed a bit. Bea’s siblings should be able to handle Fenwick, at least for the time being.

“Nice job, chief,” Micah muttered.

Finn sighed. “I’m sure I’ll pay for that later.”

Micah noticed a doctor enter Bea’s room and wondered if everything was okay. Had her injuries been more severe than they appeared? The gash on her forehead was deep and jagged, but Micah was more worried about a concussion or brain injury. She’d seemed to have no trouble speaking to him earlier, but he knew her head had been hurting. Hopefully that wasn’t a sign of more serious damage.

He was so distracted he didn’t realize Finn was speaking to him until the man touched his shoulder. “Still with us?”

Micah shook his head. “Yes. Sorry. Uh, what were you saying?”

Finn lifted one eyebrow but didn’t otherwise comment. “Ballistics probably won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, I want you to assume these two bodies are linked. I want you and Carson and Shane to coordinate your investigations until we know more.”

“Yes, sir.” Micah nodded. The door to Bea’s room opened, and the doctor walked out. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, already walking toward the man in the white coat.

“Doctor?” The man turned. Micah showed him his badge. “I’m the officer who came in with Beatrix Colton. How is she?”

“She’s got a mild concussion, but she should make a full recovery. I’m going to write up her discharge paperwork.”

“Can I question her now?”

“I see no reason why not. But she might not be in the mood to talk. She’s got a pretty severe headache.”

Micah frowned, unhappy at the idea of Bea in pain. “Can you give her something for it?”

The doctor nodded. “Already ordered. It won’t affect her cognitive abilities, so she should be able to answer questions if it’s necessary.”

“It is,” Micah replied. The sooner he discovered what Bea had seen, the better his chances of catching whoever had attacked her. They’d been looking for a break in the Groom Killer investigation, and Bea might have just the information they needed to crack the case wide open.

Micah thanked the doctor and took a deep breath. He felt a fluttering sensation in his stomach, and he realized with a small shock that he was nervous. Stop being ridiculous, he told himself. He’d done well over a hundred interviews with witness and suspects alike since joining the Red Ridge police department. In all that time, he’d never once felt uncertain or worried before starting the process. Why was he acting like a rookie on his first day now?

Because it’s Bea. The answer came immediately to his mind, and much as he wanted to deny it, he knew it was the truth. Bea Colton had always been his weakness, and even though years had passed since he’d seen her, his body still reacted the same way it always had to her presence.

Her father’s words echoed in his mind. Didn’t you figure out she doesn’t want you?

“Oh, yes,” he muttered. “She made that very clear.”

Even now, the memory of her letter was enough to make his heart ache and his eyes sting. He’d looked for her letters at every mail call, but she’d never written. He’d told himself she was busy making their wedding plans and packing her things to join him after he returned. There was a lot to arrange while he was gone, and he felt guilty leaving her to do the lion’s share of the work. But she had probably employed her grandmother’s help, drawing on the older woman’s expertise to plan a sweet, simple ceremony.

He’d been allowed one phone call after arriving at boot camp, but Bea hadn’t been home. Normally, the lack of contact with her would have driven him crazy, but they kept him so busy he fell exhausted into his bed every night, too tired to do more than imagine her face before he drifted off to sleep.

Today was different though. There had been a letter for him at mail call, and once he saw the writing on the envelope, he knew it was from Bea. He’d have recognized her handwriting anywhere. Unable to wait for a little privacy, Micah had ripped open the letter then and there, only to crumple it in his hands a few seconds later.

Dear Micah,

I’m sorry to do this, but I’ve done a lot of thinking since you’ve been gone. I’ve decided that I’m not willing to be a soldier’s wife. I want a husband who will be home every night, not someone who will be gone for months at a time. I know this probably comes as a shock, but being away from you has given me the time and space I needed to think. I rushed into our engagement, and now I realize it was a mistake.

Please don’t try to contact me. I’m not going to change my mind.

Bea

Micah rubbed his chest to soothe the familiar ache. The pang of sadness had grown duller over the years, but any time he thought of Bea and the way she’d rejected him, his heart throbbed like a fresh bruise.

Part of him wondered if Fenwick was right. Perhaps he should recuse himself from the investigation and let someone else interview Bea. It would be easier than subjecting himself to the torture of being around her again, of hearing her voice and smelling her scent. He’d spent countless nights in the desert, dreaming of her and wishing he was holding her in his arms instead of snuggling with his service dog. Duke had been an exceptional military working dog, but he was a poor substitute for the woman Micah loved.

Because even though she’d broken his heart, Micah hadn’t stopped loving Bea. And now that he’d seen her again, he realized he probably never would.

* * *

“A mild concussion,” Bea said softly. She reached up to gently probe the gauze covering the gash on her forehead and exhaled heavily. “Could have been much worse, I guess.”

Maybe she should close the shop for the next few days. After all, it wasn’t like she had an army of brides beating down her door to buy wedding dresses. A little break might do her some good and give her the time and space to come up with a strategy for saving the shop.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Come in,” she called. Hopefully it was a nurse bringing the medication for her headache. Dimming the lights had helped dull the pain somewhat, but Bea wasn’t going to turn down a little pharmaceutical assistance.

Micah poked his head around the door, and her heart did a little flip at the sight of him. “Mind if I come in?”

He looked shy and a little uncertain, and she felt a pang of worry. Had something happened between Micah and her father? She hadn’t heard a loud commotion, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

Micah entered the room and closed the door softly behind him. “The doctor said you’ll be released soon.”

“I hope so.” Right now, she wanted nothing more than to go home and lie down in her own bed. Hopefully she’d feel better after a good night’s sleep.

“Do you feel up to talking while we wait for your discharge orders to go through?”

Now it was her turn to feel hesitant. “Okay,” she said. Did he really want to discuss their past right now? She didn’t think it was the best time, but perhaps he had something to say after all these years...

“I need you to walk me through what happened at the boutique tonight. Do you remember seeing or hearing anything unusual before you were attacked?”

Of course, she thought, feeling ridiculous. Micah wasn’t here to talk about their past. He wanted to know about the events that had landed her in the hospital. He was a police officer, after all, and was only talking to her as part of his duties. Seeing her again had probably not affected him the same way it had her.

And why would it? He’d been the one to break up with her. It only made sense that he’d moved on with his life in the years since she’d received his letter. The thought of Micah with another woman left her feeling mildly nauseous and she swallowed hard. It doesn’t matter, she told herself. It’s none of my business.

It was the truth, but a pang of jealousy speared her heart as the image of him holding another woman flashed through her mind. Micah’s actions had hurt her badly, and yet she couldn’t deny she still felt drawn to him.

“Bea?” The sound of her name drew her out of her thoughts, and she focused on Micah to find he was watching her with a concerned expression. “If you’re not feeling up to it, I can talk to you later.”

“No, now is fine.” Better to get this over with so she could simply go home. “I was closing up the store when I heard a strange thump in the storage room.” She told him about how the lights had gone out as she’d headed to the back of the store and the strange smell in the air. “I heard the sound of movement, and the next thing I remember is you leaning over me, telling me to wake up.”

Micah frowned. “Can you describe the scent?”

“It was definitely perfume,” Bea responded. “Something floral, but with a sharp note to it that burned my nose.”

“Did you recognize it?”

Bea tilted her head to the side. “It seemed familiar, but I don’t remember where I’ve encountered it before.” She searched her memory, but it was no use. Finally, she shrugged. “Maybe I smelled it as I walked by the perfume counter at the mall?”

“It’s possible,” Micah said. “When you’re feeling up to it, we’ll go there and see if you can identify it for me.”

Before she could reply, Micah asked another question. “Did you see anything in the darkness?”

Bea closed her eyes, thinking back to that moment. “Just a shadowy form. I couldn’t make out any real details.”

“Was it bigger or smaller than you?” Micah probed.

“About my height,” she said. “Maybe a little shorter?”

He nodded, as if she’d just confirmed something for him. “Did they say anything or make any kind of sound before hitting you?”

“No.” She saw his mouth tighten, and realized she wasn’t being very helpful. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It all happened so fast, and I really couldn’t see much of anything with the lights out.”

“This is fine,” he said, flashing a quick smile. “Are you absolutely certain the store was empty when you heard the sound in the back room?”

“Well, I thought I was alone,” Bea said, frowning. “But that clearly wasn’t the case.”

Micah made a thoughtful sound low in his throat. “Do you think a customer snuck into the back room while you weren’t looking?”

“No. I only had three customers yesterday, and I watched them all leave.” Former customers, she amended silently, as all three women had come to either cancel their dress orders or return a dress they’d previously purchased.

“All right.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing the auburn strands. “We’ll need to keep your store closed tomorrow so the evidence techs can finish processing the scene—”

“Wait...what?” That seemed like a lot of trouble for what amounted to a hit-and-run attack.

Micah frowned, as if confused by her reaction. Then realization dawned in his eyes and his expression cleared. “You don’t know,” he said softly. “How could you?”

“Know what?” Bea asked. Her stomach churned uneasily at this sudden turn in the conversation. Something else had happened in the store, and given Micah’s reaction, it wasn’t good.

He took her hand, and she felt the calluses on his palm. “We found another Groom Killer victim in one of the dressing rooms.” His voice was soft, belying the horror of his words.

Bea felt the blood drain from her head. “What?” she whispered. Surely there had been some mistake. If word got out that the Groom Killer had struck again, and in her own bridal boutique, no less, her business would never recover.

Guilt flashed through her at the selfish thought and she shook her head. “Who?”

Micah didn’t need her to elaborate. “We think it’s Joey McBurn.”

Bea closed her eyes, picturing Joey’s fiancée. Angelina Cooper had come into the shop a few months ago, bubbling with excitement. Joey had just proposed, and Angelina was wasting no time planning their wedding. She’d tried on several dresses, but unfortunately, her tastes ran to the expensive and she hadn’t been able to afford her dream dress. Bea had tried to steer her to a similar, less pricey style, but Angelina hadn’t budged. She’d left the store, swearing she’d be back once she’d saved up enough money. She must have found something at the department store in town, because the wedding was tomorrow.

Or at least, it should have been.

Bea’s heart went out to the other woman. Did she even know Joey was dead? Or was she waiting at home, expecting him to walk through the door at any moment?

Micah leaned forward, his hand tightening on hers. “You’re the first person to encounter the Groom Killer and live to talk about it,” he said quietly. “I want to put you in protective custody, to make sure you’re safe in case the killer targets you again.”

Bea’s heart began to pound. “Do you really think that’s a possibility?” The Groom Killer went after men, not women. And she hadn’t seen anything in the dark—surely the killer would know Bea couldn’t identify them.

“I think it’s a risk we can’t afford to take.” He gave her hand a final squeeze and released it, and Bea immediately missed the warmth of his touch. “I can start the paperwork—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Disappointment flashed across Micah’s face. “Bea, please,” he began, but she lifted her hand to cut him off.

“I’ll agree to a bodyguard, but only under one condition.”

“What’s that?” There was a note of wariness in his voice, as if he was worried about what she was going to say.

“It’s got to be you,” Bea said firmly. “No one else.”

“Me?” Micah made a strangled sound, and Bea fought the urge to laugh. She knew how ridiculous her request must seem to him. They hadn’t seen each other in years, and after the way he’d ended things between them, he probably figured she wanted nothing more to do with him.

Truth be told, Bea herself was surprised by the intensity of her determination. But she felt safe with Micah, and she knew he would protect her if the Groom Killer did come back around. Besides, maybe if they spent more time together she could finally get him out of her system and truly move on. The man had flaws—he was only human, after all. Hopefully seeing them up close again would be enough to take the shine off of her memories of their time together.

It was a long shot, but she was just desperate enough to take it.