The Colton Sheriff

by Addison Fox

  Aisha had tried a few times to point out the man’s remark but Trey would have none of it, his only response that he was a Colton and they did have several unsolved crimes in his county. End of story.

  Only it wasn’t.

  She might be hopelessly infatuated with Trey Colton, but that hadn’t blinded her to his talents or his true nature. He was a good and honorable man and Bradford County was lucky to have him as sheriff. Trey ran a tight ship and, until the Avalanche Killer and all the ensuing madness surrounding the missing women, had actually reduced crime in the area. A fact the local tourism industry depended upon.

  The Colton family wasn’t the only one to run a major resort in the area. The Colton Empire might be home to the largest, but it wasn’t the only place to ski or vacation. All local businesses that depended on the patronage of outside visitors had benefited from Trey’s steady hand and outstanding leadership.

  Her gaze drifted over those horrible photos once more, the truth of the situation stamped in each one of them. No matter how much good Trey had done for the county, if they didn’t get a handle on this Avalanche Killer soon, his career was in jeopardy.

  She’d be damned if she was going to let that happen.

  * * *

  Trey Colton rubbed a hand over the back of his head, the close-cropped hair against his fingers already too long. He’d needed a haircut for three days and hell if he’d had five minutes to breathe to even go get one.

  “I wasn’t suggesting you dismiss Evigan,” Aisha said, her dark gaze serious. “But I think the people who know you and who’ve admired your work are going to continue to give you the leeway to do that work. If there is a serial killer on the loose, this isn’t something that gets solved in a matter of days.”

  “We live in an on-demand world, Aish. People expect this is as easy as solving a crime in eight binged episodes.”

  “Fact versus fiction,” she shot back.

  “Or the skewed reality we all now live with.”

  “Well, it’s a reality that sucks.”

  A hard laugh escaped his chest. “That it does.”

  And just like that, his best friend in the world managed to make him laugh and make the whole situation seem a little less dire.

  People thought she was so serious, those dark brown eyes always focused a few feet beyond everyone else. He’d heard others call her aloof but he knew her to be anything but. Aisha Allen was an outstanding psychologist and a passionate advocate for her clients, always determined to find treatments to help them cope with their inner pain and struggles.

  She was also his oldest friend in the world.

  When they were together, he saw her less serious side. Silly, even, when she got going doing an imitation of one of his wacky Colton relatives or teasing him about a long-forgotten memory of one of the millions they’d shared together. And he truly appreciated her support during this whole Avalanche Killer crisis, as well as throughout the subsequent disappearance of his cousin Skye.

  However, even with that support, he was in the midst of a firefight. That bastard Barton Evigan was a problem. Trey didn’t think himself above an opponent—the exact opposite actually. The people of Bradford County deserved a slate of qualified candidates for the role of sheriff. Just because he wanted the job didn’t mean he deserved it on a shoo-in.

  But Evigan was something else. The man had little to no actual experience and when questioned on that fact he deflected and diverted the question, immediately going on the offensive on Trey’s record. Trey and his team had closed hundreds of cases over the past three and a half years since taking on the role of sheriff. A fact that was increasingly forgotten in the constant attention over a serial killer.

  Which meant he had to work harder. Those poor women discovered on the side of a mountain deserved only his best, no matter what it took. Their focused search for his cousin, Skye, required the same.

  Turning toward Aisha again, he tapped the closest photo. “Okay. Walk me through it again. What do we know from the bodies?”

  “Assuming this was his only burial site, and that’s a mighty large if, the time between kills was significant. Nearly five years between the first two. Then several years between two, three and four.”

  “And after?” he prodded.

  “That’s where things pick up. Either the killer had a trigger of some sort or wasn’t able to slake his thirst.”

  “Him?” Trey homed in.

  “Figure of speech. Serial killing is predominantly done by males and should be your prioritization on suspects. But for the purposes of speaking to the press, no gender should be used.”

  Trey didn’t miss the light wash of goose bumps that rose up over her dark skin. He laid a hand there, covering her forearm. “We don’t have to do this now. It’s late and this is hardly a topic that ensures a good night’s sleep.”

  “We owe it to those women, Trey. And we owe it to Skye.”

  “But—”

  She laid a hand over his. “I’m fine. Let’s just push through.”

  She was fine, of that he had no doubt. The woman understood the human psyche in ways he couldn’t fathom. A few summers back he caught her leisure-reading a biography of Jack the Ripper and when asked about it, she said the man fascinated her. That she enjoyed probing into the mind and trying to understand the mysteries there.

  While he enjoyed it in his fiction, he wasn’t all that keen on having it in his real life.

  Which made his next thought that much harder to say, yet somehow safe when voiced in a room with only his best friend for company. “Would you think less of me if I said I wasn’t fine?”

  “No.”

  “Because I’m not.” He pushed back his chair, the heavy scrape of metal legs over the linoleum tile a scratchy counterpoint to the drumming in his chest. “I want to be okay but all I can think about are those women. Worse, then I start imagining my cousin and what could have happened to her.”

  Trey deliberately tamped down on that train of thought. They were all desperate to find Skye, but also determined to stay focused on the positive. She was missing but that didn’t mean she’d become the target of a serial killer. They had to believe her disappearance was the work of some other force. Something wild and crazy, just like Skye.

  “I know.” Aisha nodded. “I know it’s hard.”

  “I look around here and see all the beauty and wildness of Colorado. The mountains and the trees and all the wide-open spaces. I see it as a place to breathe. To find myself. And all those women found was death. Quite brutally, too, based on the forensics.”

  “They did.” Aisha picked up the various photos and turned them over. “Classic serial killer behaviors of dominance and a deep desire to hurt another. To not only kill but to torture before doing so.”

  “A coward who gets off on causing fear.”

  “Yes,” she confirmed.

  “Right here. Under our noses.”

  He let out a sigh, his gaze drifting once more over the box of pizza. The hunger that had carried him into the room had vanished and now he was left with a strange emptiness roiling in his gut in its place.

  All of it had happened right under his nose. And if he didn’t get a handle on it, it was going to happen again. Of that he had no doubt.

  Chapter 2

  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 workin
gs 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?”