Читать книгу Colton Baby Rescue - Marie Ferrarella - Страница 11

Chapter 3

It took a little time, but Carson and his boss finally found a judge who was willing to issue an arrest warrant at that time of night.

“Do me a favor, lose my number,” Judge David Winkler told Finn, closing his front door and going back to his poker game.

Tucking the warrant into his pocket, the chief turned toward Carson. “Let’s go. We’re not waiting until morning,” Finn told the detective as he got back into his vehicle.

Armed with the warrant, for the second time in less than five hours police detectives hurried back to Demi Colton’s small ranch house on the outskirts of town, this time to arrest her.

The house was dark when they arrived.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Carson murmured as he and Finn approached.

Carson knocked on the door. When there was no response, he knocked again, harder this time. Rather than knock a third time, he tried the doorknob. He was surprised to find that the door was unlocked.

Guns drawn, they entered and conducted a quick room-to-room search of the one-story dwelling. There was no one home.

“Damn it.” Finn fumed. “My gut told me to keep her in a holding cell and not let her just walk out of the police station like that.”

“Looks like some of her clothes are gone,” Carson called out to the chief, looking at a cluster of empty hangers in the bounty hunter’s bedroom closet.

“Yeah, well, so is she,” Finn answered from the kitchen. When Carson joined him, Finn held up the note he’d found on the kitchen table.

“What’s that, a confession?” Carson asked, coming around to look at the piece of notepaper.

“Just the opposite,” Finn told him in disgust. “It says ‘I’m innocent.’”

Carson said what he assumed they were both thinking. “Innocent people don’t run.”

The chief surprised him when Finn said, “They might if they think the deck is stacked against them.”

“Is that what you think? That she’s innocent?” Carson questioned, frowning. He supposed that there was a small outside chance that the chief might be right, but as far as he was concerned, he was going to need a lot of convincing.

“I think I want to talk to her again and find out just how her necklace wound up under the wheel of that car,” Finn answered.

In order to talk to the woman again they were going to have to find her. Carson blew out a long breath, thinking.

“Maybe her father knows where she is,” he said, speculating. “Won’t hurt to talk to him. Man might be able to tell us something.”

Although, from what Bo had told him about Demi’s contentious relationship with her father, Carson highly doubted that Rusty Colton would be able to give them any viable insight into his daughter’s whereabouts.

But, Carson speculated, the old man might know something he didn’t know he knew. They had nothing to lose by questioning Rusty Colton.

At least they would be no worse off than they were now, Carson reasoned as they drove over to The Pour House.

* * *

The bar’s door was closed when they got there, but the lights were still on. Carson banged on it with his fist until Rusty Colton came to unlock it. The tall, skinny man had his ever-present mug of beer in his hand as he opened the door.

Bleary brown eyes quickly assessed the situation from beneath unruly reddish-brown hair.

“Sorry, boys, I’m just about to close up for the night,” Rusty said just before Carson pushed his way in. Taking a step back, the bar owner regrouped. “Okay then, I’ll have to limit you to just one round—although I just might see my way clear to staying open a little longer if you two boys are willing to pay extra.”

Small, beady eyes shifted from the chief to the detective. Rusty waited in anticipation to have his palm greased.

He waited in vain.

“We’re not here to drink, Mr. Colton,” Carson told the man coldly.

He’d never cared for the owner of The Pour House. There was something palatably unsavory about Rusty Colton. Carson had no doubt that the man would sell his own mother if he needed the money.

Annoyed, Rusty gestured toward the door. “Well then, ‘gentlemen,’ I need to get back to closing up my establishment,” he told them.

Neither of the men moved toward the door.

“We were wondering if you could tell us where your daughter is, Rusty,” Finn asked in a voice that said he wasn’t about to be trifled with. “Demi.”

Rusty snorted. “She’s a grown woman, Finn. She comes and goes as she pleases. Ungrateful whelp never did mind me,” he said, banging down his empty mug on the counter. “I can’t be expected to keep track of her.”

Carson moved in a little closer to the man. He wasn’t that much taller than Rusty, but he was a great deal more muscular and therefore more intimidating. “You keep track of everything when it suits you. Now, let’s try this again,” he said evenly. “Where’s Demi?”

“Well, if you must know,” Rusty said, smugly drawing out each word, “she’s gone. Long gone. I think you two apes probably scared her and she hightailed it out of here.”

That wasn’t good enough for him. “What makes you so sure?” Carson wanted to know. “Did she tell you?”

“Didn’t have to,” Rusty answered, pushing together several glasses on the counter in a half-hearted attempt to clean up. “I stopped by her place during my evening break—I leave Amos in charge then. He’s dumb, but nobody’s going to try to skip out on paying that big ox,” he informed the two men at the bar proudly.

“Get back to the point,” Finn ordered. “You stopped by Demi’s place and then what?”

“Well, she wasn’t home so I decided to dip into that big wad of cash she keeps under her mattress like I do every now and then—only when I need a little something to get me through to the end of the month,” Rusty admitted without a drop of embarrassment.

“Except that I couldn’t this time,” he complained. “It was gone. Guess the little witch must have taken it and hightailed it out of here.” He looked quite put out by his youngest daughter’s action. “Didn’t even think to leave me any, my own daughter,” he complained.

Carson exchanged looks with his boss. They weren’t going to get anything more out of Rusty.

“Let us know if she comes back,” Finn told the man as he walked out.

Rusty grunted something in response, but it was unintelligible and they’d already lost too much time, Carson reasoned, following the chief out.

“Warrant’s not going to do us any good right now,” Carson bit out, handing the paper back to Finn.

“I’ll put out an APB on her,” Finn said, striding back to his vehicle. “Maybe we’ll get lucky. In the meantime, have the team look into those people whose names you wrote down.”

Frustrated, Carson nodded as he got into the car. For now, at least it was a place to start.

* * *

Early the following morning, Carson stood by as the chief called a staff meeting of all the K-9 cops and gave them instructions. Articles of Demi’s clothing, got from her house, were handed out in order to give the dogs a scent to track.

Others on the force got busy looking into Bo’s past. The latter included interviewing women Bo had seen, exploring the various gambling debts he ran up and, since Bo had been an in-demand dog breeder who’d trained and sold dogs to people and organizations besides the police department, Carson started conducting a second background check on those people. Maybe there was a disgruntled client out for revenge and the situation had got out of hand for some reason.

It was time-consuming and grueling and it all ultimately led nowhere.

* * *

Serena Colton absolutely refused to buy into all the lurid hype surrounding her cousin Demi.

Here, tucked away in her private wing of her parents’ vast, prosperous Double C Ranch, the story of Bo Gage’s murder and how Demi C was found written in Gage’s own blood beside his body sounded like the fanciful imaginings of a second-rate scriptwriter. Except that Bo Gage was found murdered and Demi’s name did appear to be written next to his body.

“I don’t believe it,” Serena said to her three-month-old daughter, who was dozing in her arms. “There’s got to be another explanation for this, Lora. Sure, Demi has her shortcomings,” she readily admitted, “but she’s not a murderer.”

Serena sighed, gently rocking her daughter as she restlessly paced around the very large bedroom. “You take all the time in the world growing up, Lora, you hear me? Stay little for as long as you can. And I’ll do my part. I won’t let anything like this ever touch you,” she whispered to the sleeping child. “I’ll keep you safe, little one. I promise.”

As if to challenge the promise she had just made to her daughter, the sound of approaching sirens pierced the night air.

The sirens grew progressively louder, coming closer.

Worried, Serena moved to the window facing the front of the house and looked out. She was just in time to see the headlights from two police vehicles approaching the house—mansion, really—where she lived with her parents and younger sister, Valeria.

“What could the police possibly want here, and at this hour?” Serena murmured under her breath. Her brother Finn was the police chief and he wouldn’t be coming here like this unless there was something very, very wrong—would he? She couldn’t help wondering.

As if in response, Lora stirred in her arms. But mercifully, the baby went on sleeping. Although how she didn’t wake up with all this noise was a complete mystery to Serena. The sirens had gone silent, but in their wake came the loud, urgent pounding of a fist against the front door.

Her heart was instantly in her throat. The next second, she heard her parents and Valeria all rushing down the stairs to answer the door.

Still holding her daughter in her arms, Serena left her room and went to the landing, hoping to find what was going on from the shelter of the second floor.

She was just in time to see her father throw open the front door. Not surprisingly, Judson Colton looked furious. The tall, strapping ranch owner wasn’t accustomed to being treated in this sort of manner.

“Just what is the meaning of all this noise?” Judson Colton demanded even before he had the door opened all the way. When he saw that his own son was responsible for all this uproar, he only became angrier. “Finn! How dare you come pounding on our door in the middle of the night and wake us up like this?” he shouted. “You’re not only disturbing me, you’re disturbing your stepmother and your sisters as well, not to mention that you’re doing the unforgivable and spooking the horses!”

Lightning all but flashed from the man’s eyes as he glared at his son and the three men Finn had brought with him. Especially since one of them was holding on to a large German shepherd.

Judson eyed the dog warily. “We raised you better than this, boy,” he snapped at Finn indignantly.

“I’m sorry if you’re offended,” Finn told his father formally. “But this is police business. Murder isn’t polite,” he added grimly. He and his men had been at this all day. It was nighttime now and he was too tired to treat his father and stepmother with kid gloves.

“Murder?” Joanelle Colton cried, pressing her well-manicured hand against her chest as if trying to hold a heart attack at bay. “This isn’t about that man who was found dead outside of that horrid bar, is it?” Finn’s stepmother looked from him to Carson. “What does any of that awful business have to do with us, Finn?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Finn answered patiently.

Serena had a feeling she knew exactly why they were here.

* * *

Carson glanced at the chief. Because this was Finn’s family, he needed to absent himself from the immediate search of the house. If there was anything—or anyone—to be found, the chief wouldn’t want that to be compromised in a court of law.

“Dan, Jack and I’ll search the property,” Finn told his father and stepmother. “Detective Gage is going to search the house.” He nodded at Carson.

“Search the house?” Joanelle echoed in stunned disbelief. “Search the house for what?” she added indignantly.

But Finn and the two officers he had brought with him had already left the house to start their search.

Taking his cue, Carson, warrant in hand, quickly hurried up the stairs with Justice leading the way.

“Search the house for what?” Judson repeated more forcefully as he followed Carson and his K-9.

“Demi Colton or any sign of her, sir,” Carson answered just as he and Justice came to the landing.

He stopped dead when he saw Serena standing there, holding her baby in her arms. At that moment, totally against his will, he was transported to another time and place in his life. He was back in the hospital hallway where a solemn-faced doctor was telling him that he had done everything he could to save her, but Lisa, his girlfriend, had just died giving birth to their daughter. A daughter who wound up dying the following day.

Carson felt an ache form in the pit of his stomach, threatening to consume him even as it undid him.

He struggled to bury the memory again and regain control over himself, just as he had done when his loss had occurred. He’d learned that 99 percent of surviving was just remembering to breathe and put one foot in front of the other.

His voice was gruff and cold as he told the woman standing there, “If you’re hiding Demi Colton, now is the time for you to speak up.”

On the stairs behind him, Judson cried, “Demi Colton?” He almost laughed out loud at the detective who worked for his son. “You’re looking for Demi here? Hell, you look all you want, but I can tell you that you’re wasting your time. You won’t find that woman here.”

“If you don’t mind, sir,” Carson answered stiffly, “I’d like to check for myself.”

“Then go ahead and do it, but do it quickly,” Finn’s father warned. “And see that you don’t disturb my daughters any more than you already have. Do I make myself clear, boy?”

“I’d prefer ‘Detective,’” Carson replied. Judson Colton merely glared, then turned and went back downstairs.

Finn’s stepmother had another sort of complaint to register with him. “Must you bring that mangy creature into my house?” She looked disdainfully at Justice. The canine was straining at his leash.

“Justice is part of the police department, ma’am, same as the rest of us,” Carson informed the woman without missing a step.

Rather than cringing or stepping aside, he saw a slight smile grace Serena Colton’s lips as she looked down at Justice.

“My father’s right, you know. You’re wasting your time,” Serena told him. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday. Demi’s not here.”

“I need to verify that for myself,” Carson told her shortly. “Why don’t you go downstairs and wait with the rest of your family?” he suggested.

Carson could feel Judson Colton watching his every move.

“I’d rather stay up here, thank you,” Serena answered. “She didn’t do it, you know,” she told Carson. “Demi’s not capable of killing anyone.”

Serena was entitled to her opinion, he thought, even though it was naive. “You’d be surprised what people are capable of if they’re pushed hard enough,” Carson told her.

“There is a limit,” Serena insisted.

“If you say so,” he replied, complete disinterest in his voice.

His attention was focused on Justice who was moving around Serena’s room with growing agitation. Suddenly, Justice became alert and ran up to the walk-in closet. He began pawing at the door.

Carson looked over his shoulder at Serena, disappointment clearly registering on his face. “Not here, huh?”

“No, she’s not,” Serena insisted, crossing the room to her closet.

Carson waved her back. Taking out his weapon, he pointed it at the closet door and then threw it open. Justice ran in and immediately nosed the hot-pink sweater on the closet floor. The German shepherd moved the sweater over toward his master.

Picking it up, Carson held the sweater aloft and looked accusingly at Serena.

“I said I saw her yesterday,” Serena pointed out. “Demi must have dropped her sweater here when I wasn’t paying attention. I never said she wasn’t here yesterday, only that she’s not here now—and she isn’t,” Serena insisted.

Drawn by all the commotion and the headlights from the police vehicles when they drove to the house, Serena’s brother Anders, who lived in a cabin on the property and worked as the Double C foreman, came into his sister’s bedroom.

“Serena’s right. Demi was here at the house yesterday afternoon, but she left and she hasn’t been back since. Trust me, I can’t abide that little bounty hunter, and I’d tell you if she was here. But she’s not,” Anders said with finality.

“And neither one of you would know where she went or might consider going if she was running from the police?” Carson pressed.

Serena and her brother answered his question in unison.

“No.”