Colton's Secret History

by Jennifer D. Bokal

Bridgette continued to hope that her father’s business wasn’t involved. The evidence said otherwise. She knew that her job was not worth her relationship with her father. There were other competent people who could take over the investigation. Moreover, as imperfect as Fitz Colton was, he was also her dad.

  She woke on Saturday morning, Luke’s arm draped across her chest. Her limbs were still loose from the previous night’s lovemaking, but her chest was filled with a steely resolve. She didn’t care that it was the weekend. Today was the day.

  After the parade, she’d call her boss at home and recuse herself from the cancer cluster—the consequences to her career be damned.

  Luke stirred, stretched. The covers fell down to his waist, revealing the hard muscles of his stomach and chest. He opened one eye and smiled. “Good morning,” he said.

  Bridgette couldn’t help but smile in return. She stroked his cheek. The short hairs of his day-old beard tickled her palm. “What’s got you so happy?”

  “I love waking up next to you,” he said. “And today is the Braxville Boo-fest. Aside from bringing lots of folks to town, after today I’ll be done as the chairman of the festival.”

  “You think they’ll let you go?” Playfully she snapped her fingers. “Just like that? Trust me, Luke. You are a natural-born leader. Honest. Charismatic. Organized. Before long you’ll be president of the downtown business association or, worse, mayor.”

  “I don’t want Elise’s job, especially with everything that’s going on in town with the cancer cluster.” He sat up and ran his hands over his scalp, leaving his hair standing on end. “By the way, how’s that going. You haven’t mentioned anything in the last few days.”

  “I’ve made a decision,” Bridgette said, rising from bed.

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

  Slipping into a pair of jeans as she spoke, Bridgette said, “I’ve decided to recuse myself from the case.”

  “You what?” Luke asked, an edge to his voice.

  She slipped a black turtleneck sweater over her head, feeling the heat of irritation rise in her chest. Who was he to take a tone with her? “This case is connected to my family’s business. I wanted to think that I could be impartial, but honestly I can’t. Every bit of information I uncover leaves me wondering how it affects my father’s health. If I’m distracted, I can’t be successful.”

  “So, that’s it?” Luke asked, throwing off the covers and getting to his feet. “You’re quitting?”

  Anger rolled off him in waves, like a hot wind swirling over sand dunes. Bridgette stepped back. “Quitting?” she echoed. “No, of course not. I’m recusing myself from the case.”

  “Which is a fancy word for quitting.”

  “What in the hell is your problem?” she asked.

  “Cancer ruined my dad’s life. You promised me that you’d figure out what happened.”

  Bridgette searched the floor for her shoes. Where in the hell had they gone? “So, your dad is the only one whose health gets to matter?”

  Her argument dampened some of the flames in his fury. “Of course not. That’s not what I said—or at least, that’s not what I meant.”

  Pressing her fingertips to her own chest, she continued, “My father had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital right now. It’s all because of my involvement in the case and the fact that I had to close down his business. Not to mention those cold homicide cases.” She waited a beat and then another. “I’ve lost a child, a husband. I’m not burying my father.”

  “What upsets me is that you promised to find out what caused everyone to get sick. You said that this was your top priority. You swore to me that you would see this thing through—no matter what. And now, just because things are a little rough, you’re done?”

  “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

  “But not the sentiment.”

  There, her shoes were tucked into the corner behind the open bedroom door. She grabbed both boots and sat on the bed’s edge. Working her foot into her shoe, she continued, “Besides, it’s not as if the case is going to go away. The Department of Health will assign someone else to lead the local team.”

  “It just won’t be you,” said Luke, his tone more weary than combative.

  Shaking her head, she said, “It won’t be.”

  “Who then?”

  She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “I have no idea, but I’m going to go now. I think we need some time apart, don’t you?”

  “No,” said Luke. “I think we can disagree and still get along.”

  “I just need a few minutes alone, then,” she said. “We have a busy day ahead of us and have to work together to make the parade successful. That won’t happen if we’re quarreling.”

  Luke nodded. “Understood.”

  “I’m going to take Pocco for a walk, first. Then I’ll get ready across the hall. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop and get ready for the TV interview.” She glanced at her phone for the time—6:45 a.m. “At eight o’clock.”

  Blankets were strewn on the floor. While tossing them back onto the bed, Luke nodded. “See you then.”

  Without another word, Bridgette left the building. It was the first time in days that she had truly been alone. After years of widowhood, she’d gotten used to her own company. Had being around people so much set her on edge?

  Or was the fight with Luke more? Did they really see the world differently? If so, what did that mean for their future? Certainly, she’d be ordered back to Wichita after her recusal. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

  Maybe it was time to return Luke Walker to her past. And this time, leave him there.

  * * *

  Julia leaned over the steering wheel, straining to see out through the grimy windshield. She had spent the past week in the mail annex of Colton Construction. Closing down the offices had provided her with the perfect place to hide. For days on end, she’d lived on single-brew coffee and stale snacks.

  It gave her time to think, to worry, to plan. She’d heard every word spoken between Bridgette and her father. She’d watched all of the state employees conducting tests and had been able to avoid them all.

  She knew that Colton Construction had been closed down because of a connection with several cases of cancer. She also knew it was her job to reopen the company.

  On Wednesday morning, she woke covered in sweat with her hands trembling. She’d had a dream that left her breathless. It was then that she knew what to do. She took her time going through all the mail that stacked up day after day. She compiled a folder full of documents and bided her time.

  It was the morning of the Braxville Boo-fest and Main Street was already busy at 6:45 a.m. She’d parked around the corner. Using the binoculars, she watched the doorway leading to the apartments located above the hardware store.

  There were cars parked on both sides of the road. Lights were on in every store, and the windows were decorated with pumpkins, scarecrows, witches and ghosts. Vendors were setting up booths that offered everything from apple cider and doughnuts to custom-created wreaths to antiques to headbands that looked like bat wings and twinkled with purple lights.

  None of the activity interested Julia. In fact, the commotion offered the perfect cover. The door opened and Bridgette stepped onto the street. She wore her long hair in a ponytail and shoved her hands into the pockets of a jacket.

  Julia expected her to head directly for the coffee shop. Instead, she walked down the street before turning the corner and disappearing from view. Julia started the car and circled the block, not daring to drive down Main Street, where she’d certainly be seen and recognized.

  By the time she made her way to the street where Bridgette had been, the other woman was gone. She beat her hand on the steering wheel. “Dammit. Dammit. Dammit all to hell and back,” she said, her curses matching the cadence of her heartbeat.

 
Still, she couldn’t have gotten far.

  Unless Bridgette had been picked up by someone else. If that were the case, the other woman could be anywhere by now.

  Yet, Julia wasn’t about to give up—not when she was so close to solving everyone’s problems.

  On her second circuit through the neighborhood, Julia’s luck changed for the better. Bridgette, holding the leash of a black-and-white dog, strode down the street.

  “Where did the dog come from?” she asked, knowing what the doctors would say about Julia speaking to people who weren’t really there. Then again, the dog wasn’t important. What mattered was that she had finally found Bridgette Colton.

  Pulling up to the next block, Julia parked and left the car running. She grabbed the folder and stepped from the car.

  “Hey, Bridgette,” Julia called out. “We need to talk. Do you have a minute?”

  Stumbling to a stop, the other woman met Julia’s gaze. “You,” she said, the single word an accusation.

  Julia waved the navy blue folder with the golden Colton Construction logo embossed on the cover like a flag of surrender. Julia said, “I have something you need to see.” She was careful to keep her other hand tucked in tight to her leg.

  “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused?” Bridgette asked. “My car. The apartment’s window. Trespassing at my family’s lake house.”

  “I know. I know.” Walking toward Bridgette with the folder in her outstretched hand, she continued, “There’s something you need to see. It’s about Colton Construction and the cancer cases.”

  Eyes wide, Bridgette blanched. “How do you know about that?”

  “I work in the mail room and found some documents you need to see.”

  The dog began to growl, a low rumble coming from its chest.

  “The company has been closed. If you worked there, you’d know that.”

  “I had an incident with my mom,” said Julia, her throat tight. “I’ve been staying in the trailer because I can’t go home. I’ve seen all the DOH workers taking samples and running tests. I’ve heard everything you’ve said to one another. Then, I started looking.” She held out the folder farther. “This is what I found.”

  “What is it?” Bridgette asked, not bothering to step forward.

  “I’m not sure,” Julia said. “I think it will exonerate your father and Colton Construction of any wrongdoing.”

  “You do?” Bridgette’s face brightened until she almost smiled.

  Moving toward Julia, she held out her hand and took the offered folder. The dog began to bark in earnest. “Stop it, Pocco,” said Bridgette. “Behave.”

  Scanning the first few pages of the file, Bridgette drew her brows together. “I don’t understand,” she began. “None of these documents are connected in any way.”

  Julia kept her other hand hidden though it trembled. And then, she slipped out of her own body. Like a marionette, her physical self was controlled by an unseen puppeteer. She watched from a distance, breathless with anticipation.

  Did the puppet master have the nerve to act?

  If Bridgette realized what kind of danger she was in, she didn’t show it. Not until she saw the tire iron did her eyes go wide. She screamed—the noise swallowed by the dog’s continual barking.

  Metal connected with bone and flesh. An arc of blood came off the iron, a comet’s tail of gore. Bridgette’s eyes rolled into her skull. Falling backward, she hit the ground.

  Julia stared at the body and asked herself a single question.

  What do I do now?

  Chapter 19

  Luke Walker held his phone. His grip was so tight he thought the metal and plastic cell might crumple in his hand.

  “Have you heard anything yet?” Elise walked across the coffee shop, cup in hand.

  The news crew from Wichita had arrived and set up for the interview. Three director’s chairs, with the station’s logo emblazoned on the seat back, were in a semicircle. Lights shone on the makeshift set, where a blonde anchor read over notes.

  Glancing at the screen, he read the long line of messages sent.

  I’m here.

  At the coffee shop.

  Are you on your way?

  It’s 8:15. Where are you?

  Elise just showed up.

  The news crew is here. Text me back

  And finally, I know we parted ways mad, but don’t bail on me now.

  There were no replies.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “It’s odd,” said Elise. “Bridgette’s always seemed so reliable.”

  With a shake of his head, Luke said, “We argued this morning before she left.”

  “What about?”

  “It doesn’t matter now, but I think she might have gone back to Wichita.”

  “Did she say that?” Elise asked.

  Luke opened his mouth, ready to say yes, and then stopped himself. “Not really. She was the one who suggested putting our disagreement aside until after the Boo-fest. Then again,” he began, but let his words trail off.

  “Then again what?”

  He finally gave voice to his fear. “Then again she could have changed her mind.”

  “It’s doubtful. Bridgette is a lot of things—capricious is not on her list.” Elise took a sip of coffee and looked out of the window. “I’ll be honest, I’m a little worried. Where was she headed after leaving your apartment?”

  “She said she was going to the shelter to walk one of the dogs,” he said. “I expected Dr. Faulkner to be here by now, too.”

  “Maybe there was a problem,” suggested Elise.

  “I’ll call,” said Luke, opening his phone’s app.

  The bell on the coffee shop’s door rang, and the old vet—led in by three dogs on leashes—entered. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I was waiting for Bridgette to come back with Pocco. When she didn’t, I figured she’d kept him with her, and they were both here.”

  “Bridgette’s not with you?” Luke asked, his annoyance quickly morphing into alarm.

  “No,” said the older man. “I haven’t seen her since before seven o’clock this morning.”

  “Excuse me,” said the anchor. “Do we have everyone we need for the interview? We go live in three minutes, and you still need to get on your mics.”

  Luke turned for the door while talking to Elise and the veterinarian over his shoulder. “You both do the interview.”

  “Where are you going?” Elise called as he pushed open the front door.

  “To find Bridgette.”

  The minute Luke’s feet hit the sidewalk he began to sprint. He knew the route she took with the dog. As he ran, he came up with a dozen possible scenarios of what had kept her from her appointment at the coffee shop. Too bad none of them were good.

  Three blocks from the shelter, Luke skidded to a halt. Huddling near a fence stood the dog Pocco. The animal’s tail was tucked between his legs and he shivered.

  “Hey, boy,” said Luke, holding out his hand.

  Head down, the animal approached. Luke ran his fingers through the dog’s short fur. Bridgette was nowhere to be seen.

  She’d never abandon her charge while on their walk.

  If that was true, where had she gone? Why was she gone?

  Luke wrapped his hand around the dog’s lead and stepped forward. He stopped, his eye drawn to the seam between street and curb.

  A rainbow shimmered atop an oil slick.

  Taking a knee, he touched the ground. The oil was still viscous, which meant it wasn’t an old stain. His thoughts immediately went to the fresh motor oil they’d found in the woods. He still didn’t have any solid evidence that it was Julia who’d been spying that day. Then again, his ex-girlfriend had disappeared soon after, so who else could it be?

  And if Julia’s car had dripped oil
on the street, it meant only one thing—she had Bridgette. Luke had never made a wager, but he’d bet that Bridgette hadn’t gone with Julia willingly. The cold hand of dread gripped his heart, his pulse sluggish. He also wasn’t the kind to panic, and he pulled the phone from his pocket. He placed a call. It rang twice before being answered by voice mail.

  “You’ve reached Bridgette Colton. I’m not available right now. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you soon.”

  Cursing, he ended the call.

  Phone still in hand, he called Bridgette’s sister, Jordana.

  Luke had begun to walk again, his hand still wrapped in Pocco’s lead.

  “It’s me, Luke,” he said, when voice mail answered. “I think there’s something wrong with your sister and I need your help.”

  He ended that call and placed another, this one to Yvette. It also went to voice mail and he left the same message. Luke placed a call to Bridgette’s brother, Brooks Colton. No luck. Then, he called his buddy with the police department, Reese Carpenter.

  “Dammit,” he said out loud. “Why won’t anyone answer their phone?”

  The dog looked up and cocked his head. They stood beside Luke’s truck, which he had moved away from the downtown festivities to the parking lot of a nearby bank.

  For the moment, he’d assume the unthinkable. Julia had kidnapped Bridgette.

  Hell, by now, they could be out of state and Bridgette would be gone forever.

  No. That wasn’t how Julia thought. Everything was a sign. Every place held meaning. Opening the door, he said to the dog, “Come on, boy. Bridgette’s missing and we need to find her.”

  Pocco jumped up and settled into the passenger seat.

  Luke turned the key in the ignition and the truck’s large engine rumbled to life. He had an idea of where Julia might’ve gone. He only hoped that they weren’t too late.

  * * *

  Bridgette’s mouth was dry, and her head pounded. She pried her eyes open and saw nothing but darkness. She lay on a floor covered in rough carpeting. The scent of motor oil and exhaust hung in the air. Somewhere close was the constant drone of an engine.