Читать книгу Killer Colton Christmas - Regan Black, Lara Lacombe - Страница 16

Chapter 5

Once things had settled down last night, Marie had been shown to the guest bedroom. Decorated in a soft color palette that reminded her of the sunset, the space was fresh and scented with a bouquet of dried lavender. A warm, inviting space she couldn’t seem to get comfortable in.

It had been a typical first night in a new house for her, rife with those old uncertainties she’d worked hard to bury or eliminate from her life since turning eighteen. She wasn’t that girl anymore, blowing from place to place like a brittle leaf in a hard wind. This was temporary.

At Emiliano’s insistence, Ace had spent the night on the couch, and she suspected Emiliano had slept out there as well to keep an eye on his ranch manager. The men shared a close camaraderie only time could bring. A camaraderie that had tripped her up emotionally when she’d thought she was past all of it.

Back in high school English class there had been a poetry unit she’d enjoyed. Though she no longer remembered the poet’s name, she recalled the sentiment of his poems that described the way people interacted with each other. Some stuck and took root in a life and others drifted by, only involved for a time or a short purpose. The foster system had made her a drifter, and from the moment she’d left, she’d done everything possible to take root where she wanted to stay.

And yet, thanks to circumstance, here she was, drifting again. Not the same thing. She had friends at the office back in Dallas. Friends she couldn’t contact while Emiliano kept her phone and other devices for the sake of safety and the investigation.

A pale dawn teased the edges of the curtains at the window and, hearing the men stirring elsewhere in the house, she rolled out of bed. She gathered her things and a change of clothes and headed for the bathroom Emiliano said was hers to use during her stay.

Showered and dressed, she went to the kitchen, where the rich aroma of coffee filled the air, anchored by the savory scent of bacon and spices. Emiliano stood at the stove, pouring pancake batter onto a griddle. No dark FBI suit today, he wore faded jeans that hugged his legs and a gray, long-sleeved T-shirt with the sleeves pushed back to his elbows. Both looks fit the man like two sides of a coin and left her a little breathless.

Ace, sitting at the table tucked into the bowed window, sent her a winning smile. “Well, good morning, gorgeous.”

He was incorrigible. Helpless against the friendliness in his eyes, she smiled back. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty near perfect,” he said. “Hard to feel bad when Emiliano’s dishing up breakfast and the loveliest lady around is about to join me.” He patted the seat beside him.

“Take it easy, Casanova.” Emiliano shot him a look as he stepped back from the stove and gave a pancake a perfect flip.

The man had surprising skills. “Need a hand?” she offered.

“I’ve got it,” he replied without looking at her. “Pour yourself a cup of coffee.”

She didn’t know what to do with herself when no one needed her. She splashed a little cream into her cup, added hot coffee and joined Ace at the table.

“Where are the dogs?” The distraction would be welcome, while she figured out where she fit into this new scenario.

The older man grinned and tipped his head toward the back door. “Scrabble and Gordo are outside. Scrabble likes to count heads before we do. That one thinks she knows it all.” Ace chuckled. “Gordo’s just along for the stroll.”

“Count heads?” Marie asked.

“She’s a herder,” Emiliano replied. “She believes it’s her job to confirm everyone is in the right place. Stables, paddocks and chicken coop, she makes the rounds with us every day.”

Emiliano brought over the pancakes and bacon, set the platters in the middle of the table one of them had already set with plates, cutlery, butter and syrup. He went back to the oven and returned with a piping-hot pan of diced potatoes.

Ace didn’t hesitate. He filled a plate and surprised her by setting it in front of her. “Dig in.”

She didn’t argue. The hearty food was delicious. As Emiliano and Ace discussed the day, she listened with avid curiosity.

“I’ll finish up around here, and Scrabble and I will head out to check the cattle,” Emiliano said. “Ace can give you the full tour around here.” He crumpled his napkin in one hand and picked up his coffee mug. From across the table he caught her gaze and held it. “Sound good?”

She brightened, picking up on the unspoken message. He wanted to be sure the ranch manager didn’t overdo it. At last—a way to help. “Yes, thank you.”

Pushing back from the table, he started to gather up the dishes.

“Let me do that,” she said quickly. She took the dishes from him and her fingertips tingled when they bumped his. She swallowed. “Ace can help me out if I need it.”

One of those dark eyebrows lanced upward. “All right.” He poured coffee into a thermos before heading to the door. “There’s a conference call in a couple of hours to review the investigation,” he said. “I’ll be back in time for that.”

He walked out before she could ask if there had been any developments.

“He’s grouchy when his mind is on a case,” Ace said, bringing dishes to the counter.

She only smiled, knowing better than to comment on Emiliano’s mood. Shifting the topic to other things while she dealt with the dishes, she got Ace talking about life out in the Hill Country and on this ranch in particular. The man’s love for his work and the Ortega family came through loud and clear, and she relaxed more than she thought possible as he told her how things had grown and changed through the years.

“The boys had their ornery moments for sure,” he said of Emiliano and his younger brother, Dario, as they walked outside. “Brothers do that, y’know.”

She didn’t, but she nodded along. Her friends often fussed about siblings, yet she’d always envied the unbreakable bond of true family ties.

Ace guided her through the barn nearest the house, where the family’s horses were kept in big, airy stalls. He told her about horses and goats, rescue dogs and cats. They found Gordo snoozing in a patch of sunlight, a small kitten snuggled beside him. “Aurelio and Natalia raised ’em right. They put a love for the land and all the animals on it into those boys.”

“Neither of them stay to work the ranch?”

Ace looked almost offended. “They’re capable of it, if that’s what you mean.”

It wasn’t.

“It’s a big world and young men have things to do.” He ducked into a small office and opened an ancient refrigerator. He pulled out a couple of carrots and handed them to her. “Besides, if those boys were here all the time, what would I do?”

“Give ranch tours to city girls?”

He laughed loud enough to wake Gordo. “Allow me to introduce our horses.” He stuck out his elbow and she looped her hand through it.

He guided her around the house to the fenced paddock that bordered the driveway. Under the clear blue December sky, three horses were enjoying the morning sunshine. Ace propped a boot on the lowest rail of the fence and pointed to each of them in turn, giving Marie the names. “Brandy is that solid brown mare. She’s as sweet as they come.” He clucked his tongue and Brandy started their way along with a colorful horse. “Where Brandy goes, Picasso follows. He’s a pinto and the boy never misses a treat since Natalia rescued him years back. Now, that fair color is called palomino. Our gal Rapunzel has a bit of sass.” When he whistled for the horse, she only flicked her tail. “See what I mean?”

Marie laughed. As Brandy and Picasso reached the fence, she started to ease back. The beautiful animals were so much bigger up close. Until today, horsepower was something she only related to cars or the Dallas mounted police. Definitely city girl to the bone, she thought ruefully.

“Don’t be shy,” Ace said to Marie. “And don’t be pushy,” he told the horses. “There’s enough for everyone.”

The old ranch manager showed her how to touch the horses and she reveled in the textures between their soft noses, the sleek coats and the tickle of lips as they plucked chunks of carrot from her open palm. Eventually Rapunzel got jealous enough, or curious enough, to join them. “I haven’t been this close to a horse since a field trip to the zoo as a kid. They’re wonderful,” she said. “Thanks, Ace.”

“Guess that means you don’t ride.”

“Never had the chance to learn,” she replied. She didn’t want to offend him with the truth that she’d never been interested. Her limited knowledge of ranches and rural environments came from entertainment venues like books or movies. Being out here in it gave her a new appreciation for why those characters loved it so much.

“You should ask Emiliano to teach you,” Ace said as they started back to the house.

“Oh, I doubt I’ll be here that long.” Though she couldn’t deny that she found the peaceful area almost as enticing as the man who’d brought her here.

“Time will tell.” Ace gave her a wry smile, as if indulging a child’s idealism while knowing the real world would clear things up soon enough.

There was something she wanted Emiliano to teach her. She needed to learn how to defend herself. In light of the attack on Ace, she decided to approach her FBI protector at the first opportunity.

* * *

Emiliano returned from his circuit of the ranch and caught sight of Ace and Marie with the horses out front. If by chance he’d missed them, Scrabble’s alert would have corrected the lapse. His faithful companion had fallen in love with Marie, effectively the newest rescue on the ranch. The dog often showed more caution around new rescues and the attitude shift baffled him.

More unexpected was the undeniable attraction and connection drawing him toward Marie. Her delighted expression when he’d flipped that pancake had made him feel like a hero. And she’d immediately understood why he wanted Ace to show her around.

He’d had a busy morning, taking and sending clear pictures of the tire tracks near the vet offices to both his boss and Shadow Creek’s new sheriff, Knox Colton. He’d ridden out to check the property lines and the herd for any signs of trouble or weakness. Scrabble was thrilled to be out and about, and she’d alternated between bounding alongside and riding up in the saddle with him.

Through it all, he mulled over Marie, the Cohort threats against her and the threat she might pose to the investigation. It was hard to look at her and think enemy when those dimples creased her cheeks and a smile lit up her big brown eyes.

He checked his watch, knowing he was cutting it close before the scheduled update conference call. Guiding his black-and-white gelding, Domino, into the corral behind the barn, he’d just removed the saddle and propped it on a rail when Ace walked up.

“Let me take care of this,” Ace said.

Emiliano shook his head, removing the rest of the tack. Ace should be resting. “I’ve got it. Where’s Marie?”

“Out front with another cup of coffee, I think.”

“You think?”

Ace hooked his thumbs in his belt, rocked back on his heels. “I thought you had her babysitting me, not the other way around.”

“Either way, you should both be here,” he pointed out, inexplicably annoyed. “Scrabble, find Marie.”

Ace snorted and reached for the saddle as the dog raced off.

“Ace,” Emiliano warned.

“I’ve had as much rest as I can stand.” He yanked the saddle off the rail and stalked off toward the tack room.

It wasn’t until he was well away from the house that Emiliano had realized his mistake in leaving her with Ace, who, despite the declarations to the contrary, wasn’t at the top of his game today. She might have done anything while he was gone, tampered with his computer, contacted the Cohort, tried to walk into town. Or found a ride back to Dallas.

And as she followed Scrabble to join him at the corral, a cup of coffee in hand, winter sunlight on her hair and that wide smile flanked by dimples, he knew all those possibilities were baseless. Mentally, he removed her name from the list of possible Cohort accomplices.

He’d done more background research last night after Marie had gone to bed and Ace had fallen asleep. He supposed being a foster kid explained her lack of ties to anything other than Colton, Incorporated, but it still bothered him. Who lived that way, without support or backup? No pets, as she’d said, a minimal social life and completely career-oriented.

When Scrabble sat, gazing up at him expectantly, he praised her and bent to give her a good ear massage. It gave him a moment to pull himself together. “How was your morning?”

“Great. Ace gave me the full tour. He showed me how to give the horses out front some treats.”

“Good.” Emiliano shuffled his feet and stared out over the acreage. She was almost too fresh and pretty to look at with her hair pulled up into a ponytail, her snug jeans too dark to have seen much use, and the half-zip sweatshirt with the faded football team logo over a long-sleeved shirt. She was in tennis shoes instead of high heels, so he had a better sense of how petite she really was, with those feminine curves balanced perfectly on her small frame.

At one time, she might have been exactly his type of woman. Thank goodness his work kept him traveling from one cyberattack to the next, effectively killing his chances to repeat the relationship mistakes of his past.

“I’m headed inside for the conference call,” he said.

“Could I please join you?”

No. “Sure.”

In the study that overlooked his mother’s vegetable garden, he pulled another chair around to the working side of the desk so they could be seen on the call together. It wasn’t exactly protocol, but it wasn’t a breach, either. Scrabble stretched out on her belly between the chairs, her feet sprawled out like a furry compass star.

When Dashwood, Townsend and Staller were all online with Emiliano and Marie, Dashwood gave the preliminary general update that they didn’t have a definite lead yet. Staller filled in the blanks on the malware that kept the firewalls vulnerable, adding his expectation of fixing the issue by the end of the day.

Beside him, Marie nodded thoughtfully. The others couldn’t see the way her hands relaxed at the news that Colton, Incorporated, would soon be secure again.

Finn Townsend appeared as frustrated today as he had when Emiliano had left Dallas. “This code is definitely Cohort. I’ve found the standard references to their so-called leader, Sulla. Nothing so far that points us to a local Princeps.”

One more deviation from standard Cohort behavior. The workhorses of the Cohort, the Principes often clustered near a cyberattack site to launch red herrings and other distracting challenges at investigators.

“There are typical tools and procedures within the signature, but the technique isn’t on par,” Finn added.

“Meaning what?” Emiliano wanted to hear something more substantial, something that would give them a hard target.

“Someone new.” Finn scowled at his notes. “I’ll keep digging.”

“And you?” Dashwood asked Emiliano.

He reported about the attack on Ace and the xylazine theft. “Whoever it was killed the camera on approach, so no identifications. I’m still working out how they managed that. It’s probably a local crime of opportunity,” he finished. Pulling the bagged syringe from the desk drawer, he held it up for his team to see. “The sheriff will send this to the lab in Austin. Hopefully we’ll get prints and a lead.”

“Keep us in the loop on that. The timing doesn’t feel like coincidence,” Dashwood said, astute as ever. “In the meantime, be vigilant and let’s all keep playing to our strengths.”

Emiliano’s strengths ran to computer forensics and research, and it seemed he would be spending the rest of the day on both.

“One more thing.” Finn’s gaze was brittle as he looked straight into the camera. “Going through the wreckage, I found trashed emails that someone at the company has been in recent contact with Hugh Barrington.”

Emiliano didn’t recognize the name, but it was clear from the horrified expression on Marie’s face that she did.

“That’s impossible.” She turned to him. “He was a lawyer for the Colton family. When his rampant corruption was exposed, the company cut all ties with him.”

“I’m looking at evidence to the contrary,” Finn said with a shrug. “It’ll be in the cloud for everyone to evaluate.”

Dashwood wrapped up the meeting, leaving Emiliano wishing for the first time ever that he was in Dallas rather than on his ranch. Although he wanted to see Finn’s new evidence firsthand, it was too risky. He couldn’t take Marie back where the Cohort was hunting for her and he couldn’t be that far away in case they managed to track her to Shadow Creek.

He’d barely ushered Marie out of the office when his phone hummed with an incoming text message. His boss was particularly irritated he’d allowed Marie to be on the call, and when Emiliano saw the accompanying screenshot, he understood why.

The emails Finn had found were between Marie and Barrington. The content summary revealed a clandestine privacy breach the opponents of data mining were always warning against. His team considered her a suspect.

On a soft curse, he looked down at his dog. He just couldn’t make himself believe the electronic evidence over his dog’s judgment. Digital files could be fabricated while Scrabble didn’t get distracted so easily.

No way would his team accept a canine opinion as fact, though.

“Something’s off and we need to find out what it is,” he said to the dog. After the break-in at the vet’s office, he wasn’t sure they had much time.

Scrabble rolled to her back and he rubbed her fluffy white belly while he considered his next step.