Colton 911--Family Defender

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Her schedule was changing already, and from then on she was going to pay attention to proper nutrition all three meals every day. For a second the thought panicked her. Brought reality on like a huge wave gushing over her head. Overwhelming her. But much like playing in the ocean’s waves, it brought excitement, too. She’d checked a couple of times to see if the cars out back were clearing out.

  Riley had said the meeting should only last about half an hour. It had been that. And then some. With her headphones on, playing some calming music, she was trying to write up reports from the phone meetings she’d had with several clients that afternoon. One of which had been to Laurene, Ronny Simms’s girlfriend, another to both of the Thompsons’ cell phones, catching them at work, and to James Barber’s girlfriend, as well. She’d listened carefully, asked pertinent questions, figured all three of them could be lying to her, but wasn’t sure if they’d been lying about violence in their own homes or outside them. There’d been no indication that any of them had more to hide from her than during her previous meetings.

  At one point she was certain that James Barber was the man threatening her. Then just as sure it had been Ronny Simms.

  She’d also doubted that it was either of them, too.

  Finishing off the sleeve of crackers she’d started on the previous morning—the only time she’d actually experienced morning sickness—Charlize was debating whether or not she should just order out for dinner delivery when her phone rang.

  Aunt Blythe. She’d yet to tell her about the baby. Both of her aunts were going to spoil the child like crazy; she knew that.

  She picked up and asked her aunt how she was doing, and heard all about the day she’d had, about the ladies she and her sister had had lunch with. And how her sister was a little slower getting around and Blythe was glad to be there helping her—all of which eased Charlize’s guilt at being the reason Blythe had been forced to leave her own home.

  And then Aunt Blythe told her something else. “The main reason I’m calling is... I thought you should tell that Mr. Colton... I took another one of the RevitaYou pills...”

  “Aunt Blythe! Why would you...” she interrupted.

  “I know,” her aunt interrupted right back. “I just...it’s hard enough accepting that I was swindled out of the money, but that I was scammed into believing in a worthless product... I just wanted to believe that there really was a way to get some youth back. I’m not ready to be old yet.”

  “You aren’t old! Not by today’s standards with longer life spans! There are women twenty years older than you who still live alone and drive themselves to church.”

  Not all that many who were that independent, but she knew of one, which meant there were others.

  “I’m being silly, anyway,” Blythe said. “I am what I am and no pills are going to change that. I just want you to know, to tell Mr. Colton, the pill made me quite nauseated. I’m sure it was that this time because I was careful to pay attention to the other things I ate. I flushed the rest of the bottle. The case is still at home, under my bed, and you can feel free to dispose of them.”

  Alarmed, Charlize asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?” Blythe had always been more of a mother to her than the woman who’d given birth to her. She couldn’t lose her now. Not when she was going to need a mother to see her through becoming one herself.

  “Positive,” the older woman said, sounding stronger than Charlize had heard in a while. Maybe being with her sister, being needed, was good for her.

  Maybe having a new baby in the family would be good for her, too. Give her more reason to live. More ways to be needed.

  Promising to tell Riley about the pills, Charlize didn’t mention the threat she’d received at their home that morning, telling Blythe, instead, that she was firmly ensconced in a safe place and doing just fine. It wasn’t time to mention the baby. She needed her aunt to stay right where she was and not be worrying any more about Charlize than she was already doing. Instead, she told her aunt that the threat should be over very soon.

  And hoped, for all their sakes, that she was right.

  Chapter 14

  Appreciating the fact that Charlize had remained upstairs until his siblings left, he texted her as soon as he’d heard them go and then confirmed that they’d all left. Telling her that he was pulling dinner out of the freezer, and inviting her to do the same.

  The half-hour meeting had extended to over an hour—mostly with them out in the dining room alone, probably waiting to see if he’d return.

  Though he warred with himself, he purposely hadn’t done so. With CI headquarters also serving as his home, he had to have firmly established boundaries around his personal life.

  They all had their own personal spaces.

  And he suspected they didn’t leave empty trays in the middle of their own dining room tables. But was glad to see that they’d finally eaten. The manila envelope was there, too, its contents neatly back inside.

  Of course, Charlize’s gaze would land right there as she came downstairs to join him. She didn’t say anything, but he saw her gaze linger there. She’d recognize the emblem up in the corner, designating her doctor’s office.

  “Do you have rules against eating upstairs?” she asked him, reaching into the freezer for a bag of chicken alfredo and some broccoli. Had she not been there, and with the family worried about Brody, the CI group would most likely have had dinner together that night.

  “You can take food upstairs if you’d like, but you don’t need to go on my account,” he told her, a little disappointed to know that she didn’t want to eat with him. But greatly relieved, too. His food was already in the microwave or he’d have let her go first.

  “I’m going to be heading straight back to my office,” he continued, wishing the ten minutes it took to defrost and cook could miraculously pass in five. “I’ve got a pileup waiting there for me, not only with RevitaYou, but also with a cold case I’m working for another client.”

  And Riley had a 7 pm phone call that he hoped was going to blow the Shannon Martin case wide open.

  “It’s not good for you to be cooped up in just one small room,” he said, just as Pal came in through her doggy door and into the kitchen, nuzzling Charlize’s hand.

  “I don’t want to impose,” she said, not just patting the dog’s head, like someone who wasn’t familiar with the animal might do, but scratching the side of her throat, and rubbing a hand down her neck.

  “Pal’s always happy for the company,” he said. “And there’s a small family room down the hall off the other side of the office,” he added. “You can watch TV or find a book to read. Or whatever. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

  He wanted to make himself at home. All over her. Wondered if, in all her reading-people ability, she’d ascertained as much.

  If so, the information didn’t seem to bother her. Charlize was comfortable around him.

  And he liked it. Wanted them both to be comfortable enough to get more comfortable. As in, without all the clothes hanging on them.

  “I’ll probably eat down here,” she said, leaning back against the counter as she continued to stroke the dog. “I don’t like food smells in my bedroom.”

  He’d never been an eat-in-bed kind of guy—not the food kind of eating, at any rate. Making a meal of her posed some interesting ideas...

  “You showed your siblings the ultrasound photos?”

  Right. That provided the cold shower he’d needed.

  He nodded. Watched the clock on the microwave tick down seconds, with too many still remaining.

  “What did they say?”

  Shaking his head, he reached for the rare second beer. Uncapped it and took a sip. Sometimes a guy just needed to be allowed to relax for a second. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I didn’t hang around.”

  Her reaction made him defensive. It wasn’t t
he lack of words, so much as the assessing look that came over her face, almost as though she’d quit merely looking at him and was studying him instead.

  “I have no answers of my own. How can I be expected to answer their questions?”

  “I’m certain that I’m not meant to be married, to raise a family.” He said what she already knew, sounding like a broken record even to himself. “And yet, here I am, about to be a father.”

  She nodded again. Offered nothing but that. And her continued attention. As the microwave whirred.

  “I can’t just walk away from that.”

  There. The words were said. An admission made. To himself, first and foremost. To himself, more than her. He wasn’t going to be able to walk away.

  “So what does that mean?” Her question came with three minutes still left on his dinner.

  “I guess it means that we have to figure out some kind of co-parenting plan.”

  The words struck terror within him. But he knew they were right as soon as he said them.

  “I’m not envisioning a fifty-fifty split, or two houses as home. But...something that involves more than just my financial contribution. He or she needs to spend time with me. And my siblings.”

  It wasn’t just his right to claim the time, but his responsibility. His ethical and moral duty. Some might not agree. He kind of wished he didn’t see it that way. But he did. He was who he was.

  Not sure what to expect from Charlize, he watched her face soften. “I’d like that,” she said, sealing his fate.

  He’d seen a little moving body. Heard a heartbeat.

  He’d become a father—whether it fit him or not.

  * * *

  She hadn’t intended to leave her room after dinner. Charlize had eaten downstairs, had even wandered around a little bit, because to know her surroundings was healthy—and because she didn’t want to go stir-crazy. The “little” family room wasn’t all that little. Six kids could have grown up comfortably in that room, watching TV, playing games. And she discovered a door to a finished basement, too, though she only walked down a couple of steps, didn’t really explore that level at all. There was a large bathroom with pedestal sink on the first floor. And a locked room off the main office. She avoided the study.

  Everywhere she looked, the wood floors were pristine. Area rugs were all solid wool, the best quality, and freshly vacuumed. She’d gone back upstairs feeling less like a prisoner in her own life.

  And more curious than ever about every single aspect of Riley Colton’s life. It was like, seeing his home without him there peering over her, blocking himself from her, she could sense a bit of the boy and then young man he’d been, growing up in that house. And she wanted to know them both.

  Another place she hadn’t looked was behind his bedroom door. There were just some things that weren’t smart. And she couldn’t afford to borrow that kind of trouble.

  If it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d been so preoccupied with the journey around the dwelling, with imagining Riley Colton in all of his ages, occupying the space, feeling his presence in every room, and imagining her child growing up with visits to this house, she wouldn’t have forgotten the thermos of iced water she’d prepared for herself after dinner. She’d brought the container from home so that she could keep drinking water upstairs just the way she liked it. Ice-cold. And hadn’t realized she’d left it down on the counter until almost an hour after she’d re-ascended the stairs, stepping quietly so as not to disturb Riley.

  She’d heard his voice coming from behind the closed door of his office. Sounding professional, not personal, she’d noted. And then admonished herself for making the observation. What he did with his life was entirely his affair.

  As long as it didn’t affect her baby—and since the child wasn’t even born yet, who Riley was or wasn’t friendly with couldn’t possibly affect the baby—then it didn’t affect her, either. No matter what her heart or body might try to convince her to believe.

  It wasn’t even eight yet. Chances were he’d still be working. Leaving her shoes off, she tiptoed barefoot down the stairs, only to have him come barreling out of his office on the way to the kitchen and grab hold of her as he barreled into her.

  “Charlize!” He sounded surprised. More than surprised. And quickly let go of her.

  Had he forgotten she was there? Perhaps her silent approach hadn’t been the best one. And where was Pal?

  Almost as though she’d sensed, or seen, the activity in the house, the German shepherd came in through the doggy door. Looked at the two of them and plopped down on a corner of the dining room carpet, lying there watching them.

  “I just came down to get some water,” she half stammered, trying not to notice how great the man looked, how alive and vital, even after a full day’s work, coupled with a good bit of emotional turmoil. She didn’t want to disappear back upstairs, to be locked away alone in the back bedroom. She wanted to sit with him wherever he was. To touch him.

  And absorb some of the energy that had reached out to her so headily the night she’d met him.

  “I was heading in the kitchen for something to drink, as well,” he told her, walking beside her. She’d noticed him take a bottle of beer into his office with his dinner. Maybe the alcohol was adding a bit of jaunt to his step.

  When he reached for an individual-size bottle of apple juice instead, she couldn’t help asking, “What’s got you in such a great mood?”

  Not that she was judging him, but he’d been verging on disgruntled, at best, since they’d become reacquainted.

  “I’m about to deliver some very good news to a young man who’s been waiting over a decade to receive it,” he told her. His beard seemed to grow in inches as he smiled at her.

  Cocking her head, she couldn’t help smiling back. “Is it something you can share?”

  Nodding, he told her about the disappearance of Shannon Martin over a decade before.

  “The case has never been closed, but it’s been stagnant for the past couple of years,” he told her, walking back through to CI’s main office. With her thermos in hand, she followed him, as though on some invisible leash. “Her brother hired me to see what I could find out.”

  A woman missing more than ten years. That couldn’t be good. And yet...

  Maybe just giving a family closure, solving the case, was enough of a high for Riley Colton.

  “I’m guessing you found something,” she said, intrigued. And standing way too close to him. The way he looked at her, drawing her in as though she was an intimate part of his moment, kept her there.

  He nodded. Told her about a jazz shoe manufacturing company. About the manager he’d spoken to. And the name of a father who’d been abusing his little girl. About Shannon Martin witnessing the abuse in a back, unused room of the dance studio where she worked.

  “I recognized the man’s name,” he told her. “The guy wasn’t just abusing his daughter—though that would have been enough to put him away forever as far as I’m concerned. As it turned out, he was part of something much bigger, sharing pictures on the internet, hurting potentially hundreds more people over many years. Shannon’s testimony in his trial had helped tip the scale with the jury, and also established a propensity and an ability to commit horrendous crimes.”

  “I’m guessing he had a lot of power. And money.” She could tell where this was heading. The man must have had the key witness killed. It happened more often than anyone wanted to admit.

  Which was why so many in neighborhoods all across the country were afraid to come forward, to speak up. People like Laurene and many of the other women she counseled included.

  “He did,” Riley confirmed with a bit of a nod, taking a sip from his bottle of juice, still vibrating with...satisfaction, she now knew.

  “So now the brother will know...will be able to at least have closure...” She thought a
bout some of the things she’d seen and heard, working with the police and court system, as she was working to protect abused children.

  “Were you able to find her body?” she guessed. If the family could give her a proper burial...

  Still, she felt awful for them. And for young Shannon, who’d only stepped forward to do the right thing.

  “I was,” he said. “Sort of. I don’t know exactly where...” His sentence was cut off by a knock at the front door, which she hadn’t seen used in the time she’d been at his house. She’d only been there for the past twenty-four hours or so.

  Still...it felt like she was one of them already...

  And that was a very, very dangerous road to walk, she was telling herself as Riley told her to hang on and went to answer the door. Noticing the hand on his gun, his quick glance through the peephole, she was surprised to see how quickly he pulled open the door, as though he’d been expecting someone.

  He’d said he was about to give some news...

  She’d thought he meant by phone.

  She turned to go...

  “Charlize,” he called to her, “I’d like you to meet a client of mine. Avis Martin.”

  The brother of Shannon Martin?

  In his late twenties or so, the man was stunning to look at. The shoulders, barely tamed by the dress shirt, tapering down to a muscled torso the tie couldn’t hide. Long legs in dress pants and slip-ons that walked with authority. If she hadn’t been standing there with the only man in the world who could possibly eclipse him, Charlize might have wanted a second look.

  As it was she opened her mouth to excuse herself, but Riley spoke first.

  “Charlize is...a friend of mine...” The words prevented her from taking another step. He’d just claimed her as a friend. To one of his clients.

  That was huge to her. Shouldn’t be, maybe, but it was.