Runaway Colton

by Karen Whiddon

  “Does Renee play an instrument?” Piper asked.

  He had to think about that. “I saw her a couple of times messing around with a beat-up old guitar. It was one of the few belongings she held on to after losing her parents. It belonged to her father.”

  “Electric guitar, then?”

  “No. Oddly enough, it was a twelve-string acoustic guitar.”

  “Wow.” Piper grimaced. “Much more difficult to play. I’m guessing she didn’t like heavy metal music much, then.”

  “No. None of us did, except her parents. Even then, my sister wasn’t into it except when she was with Joshua.”

  “Then what kind of music did Renee play?” Piper persisted.

  “I’m guessing you have a reason for all these random questions?”

  “You don’t know, do you?” Piper shook her head. “Surely you heard her sitting around playing some sort of music, whether on the guitar or listening to the radio.”

  “I did,” he said slowly, refusing to feel guilty. “You have to understand, it was difficult inserting myself into the life of someone who emphatically didn’t want me in it.”

  She nodded. “I know. Believe me. But tell me anything you can remember. Anything at all. I’m going at this the way one attempts to put together a puzzle. All of the pieces eventually make a whole.”

  He had to admire her tenacity. “You’d make a good private investigator.”

  “Thank you. But I have my own plans for the future. Or at least I did. Once all of this craziness is over, I’m hoping I can get right back on course.”

  “Doing what?” He couldn’t help but pounce on the chance to know her better.

  “I like to find old furniture and restore it in a nontraditional way. Like fix up and paint a dining room hutch turquoise. People go crazy for that kind of thing. I’d actually saved up enough to open my own store, though I’m now using it to live on until this criminal case is sorted out.” She took a deep breath. “Now, about the kind of music Renee liked...”

  “The music. Right.” Watching the road, he let his mind drift back. “Folk music,” he said suddenly, slightly amazed. “Or country. She was playing some sort of ballad. I caught just a sliver of it before Renee saw me and stopped playing. She seemed ashamed, almost as if she didn’t want me to know.”

  She tilted her head, considering him. “I wonder why?”

  Hating that the question made him feel defensive, he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Did you ever ask her?”

  “How could I, when even a ‘good morning, did you sleep well’ would piss her off?” He grimaced. “You have no idea what it’s like living with a perpetually angry teenage girl.”

  “I...” Biting her lip, she looked down. “Sorry. You’re right. I know you said you never saw her with friends, but surely there must have been someone. Who did she talk to—or text—on her phone?”

  “I don’t know. She took it with her. I was afraid to cancel the service in case she wanted to reach out to me. And yes, I tried to get the provider to help me track her with the phone’s GPS. But she’s eighteen and the phone is in her name. They refused.” He took a deep breath. “She took her laptop, too.”

  “Wow. No wonder you’ve had difficulty finding her.”

  Relieved more than he should have been to hear her say that, he exhaled. “Yeah. Now you know what I’m facing. Still think you can locate her?”

  “Not ‘think.’” Again the dazzling smile. “I will find her. Just like you will find out not only who kidnapped Eldridge, but who hates me enough to try and frame me for a murder that might not have happened.”

  Glad to focus on something else, he nodded. “Let’s start with the names of your enemies. How many names did you get on that list?”

  Her frown nearly made him smile.

  “I don’t have any enemies, actually.”

  “That you know of.”

  “True.” Twisting her hands in her lap, she fidgeted. “I mean, I’m sure there are people who don’t like me. No one is popular with every single person. But framing someone for their own father’s murder is a whole ’nother level of hatred. Like a sharp-edged sword of bitterness.”

  “Nice imagery,” he congratulated her. “Okay, how about this. Who have you gotten into a disagreement with in the last month?”

  “Fowler. Marceline.”

  “That’s it?” He shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Yeah.” When she lifted her chin and met his gaze, the sparkle in her eyes made his gut twist. “And if you want to talk about angry, bitter people, those two win the prize.”

  “Did you argue with them at the same time? Or separately?”

  “Oh, a little of both.” Her breezy tone didn’t match her serious expression. “They’d get together and gang up on me sometimes. Other times, it was just one or the other.”

  “Multiple disagreements?” This time he didn’t bother to hide his shock. “How many would you say, if you had to estimate?”

  “Why does this matter?” she asked. “You know as well as I do that neither of them framed me. Fowler might find me annoying, and Marceline just dislikes me, but they wouldn’t do anything like this.”

  “You don’t think?” He wasn’t so sure.

  She didn’t answer. They’d reached the turnoff to the homeless shelter. When he pulled up in front of the dingy, cinder-block building, he glanced at her. “Wait in the car. Dropping these off will only take a minute.”

  After he’d handed the apples over to the grateful director, he got back in the truck and headed for home. As they neared the road that led to his place, he slowed to make the turn. The dirt and gravel were rough, which made him drive slowly.

  “We’re going to split up,” she announced, holding on to the door handle. “Tomorrow. I’m going to go look for Renee, and you’re going to investigate Eldridge’s death. Do you know the police have never even found his body?”

  Still stuck on the “split up” part, he slowly nodded. “Piper, I thought I made it clear I wasn’t letting you out of my sight.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she huffed. “And quite honestly, I refuse to allow it. I’ve given you my word not to run. That should be enough for you. I’ve also promised to find your niece, and I will. Now you do what you agreed to do. Find out who really killed Eldridge—if he’s even dead—so the police will drop the charges against me.”

  Once she’d said all that, she turned away to stare out the window. Since they were pulling into his driveway, he didn’t respond. Instead, he parked and killed the engine. “Let’s discuss this inside.”

  Pushing open her door, she jumped down from the pickup and strode up his sidewalk. Instead of anger, her entire bearing denoted confidence, as if she felt quite certain any reasonable person would be on her side.

  He had to admire such an ability, even though the thought of sending her searching for Renee gave him a headache.

  Truman came racing around the side of the house, shooting right past Cord as he made his way to Piper.

  Cord watched while Truman enthusiastically greeted her. Even his own dog loved Piper.

  After she’d finished loving on Truman, she waited for Cord to unlock the front door. When he did, he stepped aside to let her enter first, Truman trotting right behind her.

  Barely had the heavy wood door closed behind them when she turned to face him. “If you can’t treat me like you believe I’m really innocent, there’s no point in you taking this case.” She met and held his gaze, her quiet declaration tinged with disappointment.

  The intensity of her stare made him dizzy. He thought of reminding her that technically he worked for Fowler, but since he’d also reached an agreement with her, he didn’t.

  Plus, damn it all to hell, she was right.

  *

  When Piper opened her eyes the next morning, the first thing that registered was the chill. Snuggling down under her blanket, she considered going back to sleep. But then she remembered she’d planned to be
gin her search for Renee today, no matter what Cord said. After declaring where she stood, she’d marched into her room with Truman hot on her heels and closed the door. She’d really hoped Cord would come after her but he had not. Apparently, he was just as stubborn as she was.

  No matter. She wasn’t his prisoner and she would do what she wanted. If he didn’t like it, she’d leave.

  “Isn’t that right, Truman?” she crooned to the motionless lump under her blanket. For answer, the entire lump wiggled as Truman wagged his tail.

  “You can stay here, boy. Sleep as long as you want.” Taking a deep breath, she tossed back the covers and forced herself out of her bed.

  Outside, a north wind buffeted the house. A quick glance at the weather app on her phone revealed a 30-degree drop in temperature from the day before.

  Shivering, she hurried into her bathroom, turned on the shower—water temperature just this side of scalding—and got ready to face the day.

  Half an hour later, hair dried and makeup applied, she headed to the kitchen for some coffee. She figured she’d whip up some scrambled eggs or maybe oatmeal, if Cord had it. Anything hot, to counteract the chill.

  “Cold front blew in,” Cord commented when she walked in. He wore a flannel shirt untucked, faded jeans and boots. With his shaggy dark hair still damp from the shower, she felt an intimacy she had no business feeling. Especially after their standoff the night before.

  “I see that.” Crossing her arms, she eyed him. Deciding to wait to continue the argument until after she’d been fortified by coffee and food, she let her gaze roam over him and then shook her head. “Do you have to look so good this early in the morning?” she grumbled, snagging a mug from the cupboard and pouring herself some strong coffee. “Unfair advantage.”

  “Do I?” He grinned. “And here I was thinking I looked like a farmer about to go feed his livestock.”

  Stunned—both at the sexiness of that smile and the concept of him actually being a farmer, which he was even if his place was small—she took too big of a sip and burned her tongue. When she swallowed out of desperation, she burned her throat, too.

  Eyes watering, she nodded and tried to act like everything was normal, just like Cord had that time he’d chugged his hot cocoa. “Do you?” she asked. This time she blew on her cup before attempting another sip, much smaller this time. “Have livestock, I mean?”

  He nodded, the amused glint in his eyes making her wonder if he knew how hard she was trying to act unaffected. “Aside from Truman?” He indicated the dog, now lying curled up in a dog bed near his empty food bowl. “Just a few chickens, a couple of goats, some cattle and a few horses.”

  “Are you kidding?” Suddenly suspicious, she went to the kitchen window. Outside, the sky had begun to lighten, though the sun wasn’t fully risen. “How could I not have noticed animals?”

  “Maybe you just weren’t paying attention,” he said. But his smile widened and she again had to wonder if he was pulling her leg.

  “So is that what you’re about to do?” she asked. “Go feed your livestock?”

  “No. I already did.” He turned and grabbed a white box off the counter, placing it on the table. “Go ahead, help yourself. I went to town and got doughnuts.”

  She groaned. “My personal Kryptonite. I adore the darn things. Especially the crème-filled ones.”

  “I remember.” He opened the box, snagging a bear claw. “That’s why I got them.”

  He remembered? Stunned, she took a step closer, as if propelled by the fattening deliciousness in front of her. How many years ago had that been? “I wasn’t aware you’d paid such close attention to me back then,” she said, taking a plump doughnut and swearing to herself that she’d have just one.

  Still smiling, he shrugged. “Yeah, well I kind of had a crush on you. Plus, to a kid whose life is hell on earth, the life lived by the rich daughter of the ranch owner is fascinating. I used to sit outside your house at night, watching the warm yellow light shining from the windows, and wonder what it must be like to live inside.”

  The hint of mockery in his voice contradicted his words. “That sounds sad,” she said, watching him closely.

  “It was. Then. But as you mentioned earlier, that was a long time ago.” He helped himself to a second doughnut while she finished her first. She even licked the powdered sugar from her fingers.

  “Let me close that lid,” she said, doing exactly that. “They’re calling my name and I don’t want to have a second.”

  “Why not? They’re good. I’ve had three so far.”

  Eyeing him, she shook her head. “I’m trying to watch my weight.”

  “You?” he snorted. “If you were to go outside and stand sideways, the wind would pick you up and carry you away.”

  She wanted to hug him. “Thanks,” she said instead. “I think.”

  Even with the box closed, her mouth watered. Unable to resist shooting a couple of glances at the box, she swore she could smell the fresh dough and powdered sugar. Cord muttered something under his breath. In one swift move, he opened the top, snagged another one of her crème-filled delights, placed it on a paper napkin and handed it to her. “Here. You look like you’re about to eat that box, cardboard and all.”

  What else could she do but devour the second pastry? He’d handed it to her; she was practically drooling on it. Resisting the urge to cram it into her mouth, she finished it in a few quick bites.

  “Done,” she exclaimed, washing it down with coffee. “That was good. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

  His laugh, deep and relaxed and coming from the belly, created an entirely different craving inside of her. “You’re welcome,” he said.

  “In case you’re trying to butter me up, it won’t work. You do remember what we discussed last night. Today’s the day,” she said. “I’m going to begin my search for your missing niece.”

  Just like that, his smile vanished. “I didn’t forget,” he said. “I’m still thinking I should come with you.”

  “No, you really need to be thinking of ways to investigate Eldridge’s disappearance and possible murder.” She smiled at him, hoping to take the sting off her words. “Remember, you agreed.”

  “You didn’t exactly give me a choice,” he grumbled. “And I still don’t like the idea.”

  “It’ll work out fine. You know as well as I do that I’ll have a better chance since I’m a stranger.”

  “If you’re planning to check out every Chili’s restaurant on this side of Dallas, don’t bother. I’ve already done that.”

  “I wasn’t.” She thought she knew exactly where Renee would go.

  “Fine, do your thing.” He refilled his cup and eyed her over the rim. “We’ll meet up here tonight and compare notes over dinner.”

  For whatever reason, his words made her feel ridiculously happy. “Sounds like a plan. Um, do you happen to have a picture of her you could text me?”

  “Sure.” He got out his phone and scrolled through his pictures. “Give me your number.”

  Once she did, he punched it in. “There. You’re now in my contacts. When you get my text, save my number in case you have to call me.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain.” She gave him a mock salute. A second later, her phone chimed. She studied the picture and then saved his info. “Got it. I’m good to go. I’ll see you later.”

  Wiping her hands on her napkin, she tossed it in the trash and turned to head back to her room to grab her purse.

  “Wait.”

  Stopping, she turned slowly, raising one brow in inquiry.

  “Remember, you gave me your word you’d be back.”

  At this, she gave into impulse and went to him, stood on her toes and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Yes, I did,” she purred. “And I always keep my promises.”

  Then, leaving him staring at her with a stunned look on his handsome face, she sauntered out of the kitchen. In her room, she grabbed her purse and her car keys, then slipped on a jacket befo
re heading toward the front door. “I’m gone,” she hollered.

  “You don’t have to yell.” His voice, a few feet to her left, made her start. “About that kiss...”

  She’d just started to grin when he hauled her up against him and planted one on her. His mouth moved over hers, nothing tentative or casual about this kiss. Her knees went weak and she sagged against him. Just when she thought her entire body might combust, he released her.

  “That’s how you kiss goodbye,” he declared, his dark gaze smoky. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  A declaration rather than a question. Dimly she registered that, while she tried to catch her breath and regain her equilibrium.

  Then, before she got herself in more trouble than she could handle, she spun on her heel and marched out the door.

  Only once in her car, doors locked, engine running, did she allow herself to exhale. A quick glance in the rearview mirror revealed a face flushed with desire, and swollen lips that proclaimed she’d been thoroughly kissed.

  Damn the man. Putting her car in Reverse, she turned around and then headed down his winding driveway. Since she’d done the exact same thing to him, she figured that kiss had been payback. Cord would have no way of knowing how much he affected her. And he wouldn’t, she vowed. She’d have to be extra careful, because she could see how kissing him could be like doughnuts—something she couldn’t resist.

  *

  Damn. Calling himself all kinds of names, Cord listened to the sound of Piper’s car leave. Tires on gravel, his own early warning system for unwanted visitors. Though this time he heard his visitor drive away.

  Could he trust her? While everyone that knew him could count on Cord Maxwell’s word being as good as gold, he wasn’t sure they’d say the same thing about Piper Colton.

  He shook his head, aware he’d be royally pissed if he had to hunt her down again.

  But for whatever reason, he felt somewhat better knowing she was out there looking for Renee. Especially since he needed to head up to the sheriff’s department and see if one of his pals there could tell him exactly what evidence they had on Piper.

  Truman whined, a forlorn sound.