A Colton Target

by Beverly Long

  Davis James.

  He’d never spoken to the man, never been introduced in any way. But he’d seen pictures. And heard plenty.

  Davis James was Honor Shayne’s ex-husband. The marriage had been over before Blaine and Honor’s relationship had begun. And they hadn’t spent too much time talking about him. But from what little Honor had said, he’d thought the man might be a little unhinged.

  And here he was, in Roaring Springs.

  What would bring Davis James, who, last he knew, lived in Stamford, Connecticut, to Roaring Springs, Colorado?

  The elevator doors opened, but Blaine ignored them. He was confident that Davis James had not seen him. The man was engaged in conversation with the concierge. He continued to watch. Five minutes later, after James had turned around and given the lobby one final expansive perusal, he left via the front door.

  Blaine crossed the lobby fast and saw him get into a nondescript black sedan that screamed rental car. The man drove away.

  The concierge was a young woman that he hadn’t met. “Hi,” he said, approaching. “I’m Blaine Colton.”

  “I know who you are,” she said. There was no malice in her tone, simply an acknowledgment that his presence at the hotel hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “And you are?” he asked, with a smile.

  “Patty,” she said.

  “Well, Patty, I’m hoping you can help me with something. The man that you were just talking to, who was it?”

  Patty looked down at her desk. There was a name scribbled across a notepad. “Jim Park.”

  Blaine was confident that he wasn’t mistaken. Davis James had an interesting face—it was narrow and long, with a square chin and hooded eyes. The description sounded worse than it was. He was perfectly fine-looking, just memorable.

  So, now there were two questions. Why was he here, and why was he lying about his name? “What did he want?”

  “Just information about Roaring Springs. Special Events passed him off to me after they finished their tour. He’s thinking of booking a wedding here.”

  Damn long way to come for a wedding. Of course, he could be marrying someone from Colorado. But none of that explained the name thing. “Who did he talk to in Special Events?”

  “Janey Maxwell.”

  “Got it. Thanks.” Blaine flashed another smile and took off for the second floor. In five minutes, he was in Janey Maxwell’s office. She was midforties and had a no-nonsense demeanor. When he asked about Jim Park, she rolled her eyes.

  “I’ll admit,” Janey said, “I was surprised that he wasn’t with his fiancée. Not that many grooms come for the initial discussion about the wedding venue. We generally don’t see them until they’re dragged in, once the bride has made a decision.”

  “When’s the wedding?”

  “Next fall. He said they had some flexibility and would work around our availability. I gave him dates for October and November, and he was satisfied. But I didn’t think I was ever going to get rid of him. He wanted to see everything. Ballrooms. Dining options. Guest rooms. Exercise facilities. Pool. And he took notes and pictures of everything.”

  Blaine kept his face neutral. “Did you happen to see any identification?”

  “No. That’s not something we ask for.”

  Of course not. “No problem. Could you do something for me? If he calls or comes back, would you let me know? Before you see him.”

  “Of course. Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Okay,” Janey said.

  He was almost out the door before she spoke again.

  “Mr. Colton?”

  “Yeah?” He turned.

  “I... I heard what happened with the maintenance staff this morning, and I just want you to know that most of the employees here are very supportive of the Colton family. We’re grateful for the jobs you’ve brought to Roaring Springs, for the investment you’ve made in the community. And I...” She paused. “Well, I had a son who served in the Marines. Did a couple tours in Afghanistan. Came home in one piece, thankfully. But he’s got some stories. Well, I just want you to know that I’m also grateful for your service.”

  It was a heartfelt thank-you, and it humbled him. “I appreciate that. Truly. And please let your son know that I’m grateful for his service.”

  He left the office, thinking that he needed to talk to Honor, to see if she might have any idea why her ex would be in Roaring Springs lying about his name. He thumbed through his contacts on his phone and found her. He dialed, it rang four times and then flipped over to voice mail. “Honor, it’s Blaine. Hope you’re doing okay. Can you call me when you get this message? Thanks.”

  He hung up. Frustrated. But then looked at the work orders still in his hand. He had bathroom tile to glue on.

  It was almost five before he got back to his desk. Honor had not called back, and he contemplated trying her again. But didn’t. She would call.

  He returned a few work emails that needed immediate attention and then shut his laptop down. He would come in early the following day to clear the rest. Right now, he had time to grab a quick shower before he drove down to the valley to meet Tilda and Josh for dinner.

  He hoped they’d had a good day together. Shortly before noon, she’d sent a text that said the doctor’s visit had gone well. He’d been busy enough that he should have been able to easily put thoughts of her aside. But it hadn’t worked that way.

  He could see her standing at the stove, cooking pancakes. Could see the absolute joy on her face when she’d opened the door and hugged Josh. Could see her surprised expression when he’d suggested they all have dinner together. And now he was very much looking forward to that.

  Twenty-five minutes later, freshly showered, he started his car in the staff parking lot. Before he put the car in Drive, he heard his cell phone ring. He looked at the display. Honor.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Blaine?”

  They’d parted on friendly terms, both of them accepting that what they’d had was over. It was no wonder that she might be curious about why he was calling. “Hi, Honor. How are you?”

  “Good. Busy,” she added. “How are you?”

  “Back in Roaring Springs. Working for my brother Decker, at The Lodge.”

  She said nothing. Was probably surprised that he’d decided to stay in Roaring Springs. “You’ll do great at whatever you try,” she said finally.

  “Thank you. The reason for my call is that I’m pretty sure I saw your ex-husband at The Lodge today.”

  “Davis?”

  “You have more than one ex-husband?” he teased.

  “No. But I can’t imagine why he’d be there. He lives in Connecticut.”

  “He told our Special Events people that he was looking for a location for a wedding reception. His wedding. And he’s going by the name of Jim Park.”

  “That makes no sense to me. I mean, I did hear that he’d been doing some online dating. Maybe he uses an alias for that. Certainly not the best way to build a relationship though.” She hesitated. “And, who knows, maybe he met somebody from your neck of the woods. But that’s just conjecture. It’s not like we’re sharing confidences these days. I haven’t seen him for months.”

  “Do you know anybody you could ask?” Blaine asked.

  “Maybe his sister. We’re still on friendly terms. She always sided with me through the divorce proceedings. But she’s a flight attendant. Does overseas travel. It may take me a few days to get in touch with her.”

  “That should be fine,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” She paused. “I hope you’re doing well, Blaine. I...care for you. I always will.”

  “Same here,” he said. It had been a brief affair that had nearly had devastating consequences. It dawned on him that it wasn’t
all that different from his relationship with Tilda. But in that case, the consequence had been Josh.

  Devastating when a person was eighteen, not married and had plans that didn’t include a baby. Now, not devastating in any sense of the word. Time had a funny way of changing perspective. He thought about telling Honor about Josh but realized that wasn’t the type of relationship they shared.

  Who was it that he could tell his confidences?

  Tilda. Her face flashed in his head.

  “Thanks, Honor,” he said and hung up.

  He drove down the mountain. There had been no fresh snow today, so the roads were clear, especially the closer he got to town. He pulled up in front of Tilda’s house and killed the engine. When he knocked on the front door, it didn’t open right away. He knocked again. Harder.

  It swung open. Josh. With earphones on. “Sorry,” his son said. “I was listening to music.”

  “No problem.” Blaine reached out and ruffled his son’s short hair. “Did you get some sleep today?”

  “I did. It felt great,” Josh said.

  Blaine looked around. “Where’s your mom?”

  “She had to run an errand.” Josh looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. “I thought she’d be back before now,” he added, sounding puzzled.

  “Check your phone,” Blaine said, seeing it on the table.

  Josh picked it up. “No messages.”

  “Okay, let’s just call her.” He pulled his own phone and dialed. It rang four times before going to voice mail. “Hey, Tilda. I’m at your house, and we were just wondering when you might be home. Give me a call.”

  “I hope she’s okay,” Josh said, concern in his voice. “She’s not usually late.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine. Are you wearing that to dinner?”

  Josh looked down at his sweats and T-shirt. “Mom told me to put on clean jeans and a sweater. And to brush my teeth.”

  “Go get that done,” Blaine said. He sat on the couch, holding his phone. Minutes went by. He heard Josh in the bathroom, running water.

  Ten minutes later, Josh was back in the living room. Tilda had still not called. And Blaine didn’t like that.

  “Do you know where her errand was?”

  “I’m not sure. I think she said something about the dry cleaners.”

  Couldn’t be more than a couple of those in Roaring Springs. He looked it up on his smartphone. There were two. “Let’s go,” he said. “We’ll meet your mom downtown.”

  They were two minutes away from their first stop when his phone rang. It was her. “Hey,” he answered.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I’m late for dinner.”

  “No problem. Everything okay?”

  “Well, not really.”

  His anxiety ratcheted up. He took a sideways glance at Josh. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. My car can’t say the same, though.”

  “Were you in an accident?” he asked.

  “No. I...well, I’m not sure how to say this because it sounds so awful. But I was running some errands, and I came back to my car and all four tires were flat.”

  Two might go flat at the same time, but all four? Not happening. “We’re two minutes away, Tilda. Where are you right now?”

  “In the parking lot behind Smith’s Cleaners. Watching a tow truck load up my car.”

  “Why don’t you go back inside the building?” He pressed his foot down on the accelerator, edging up another ten miles per hour.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it. And stay away from any windows.”

  “But—” she began.

  “Tilda, please.”

  “Fine.”

  Chapter 14

  Blaine was the first one into the dry cleaners. His look took her in, from head to toe. “You’re okay?”

  “Of course,” she said. Tilda didn’t want to admit that she was a little rattled. She kept her voice down, not wanting the young woman behind the counter to hear everything.

  “You and Josh stay here,” he said. “I’m going to take a quick look at your tires.”

  “I’ll save you the trouble. They were slashed.”

  He didn’t look surprised. “You need to call the police.”

  “Already did. They just left.”

  “Smart girl,” he said.

  It was crazy, but just that small praise was enough to make her warm. Which was welcome because she was cold after standing outside for so long. First, talking to the police. Then, waiting for the tow truck.

  “I’m sorry that I missed your call. I had my phone on vibrate and didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

  He waved a hand. “Just glad you’re okay. Are the police canvasing the area?”

  “They’re going to try to see if there’s any camera footage from either the city or from one of the merchants. Also, going to check to see if similar complaints come in or whether this was an isolated incident.”

  “Did you tell them about your student, Toby Turner?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have any reason to believe that he did this.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Blaine asked, his tone confrontational. “After all, you’re the person standing between him and graduation.”

  “He knows that’s his fault. He hasn’t done the work. I’m not picking on him.”

  “Tilda, he’s still a kid. They react with emotion, not with logic.”

  Josh, who’d been quietly observing the conversation, held up a finger. “Can speak to that,” he said.

  It broke the tension in the room. Tilda relaxed for the first time in over an hour. “Something is definitely going on with Toby. I don’t know what that is. What I do know is that if the police descend upon him because I’ve pointed them in his direction, I’m never going to find out. I have to have confidence that they’re going to be true to their word and investigate. If evidence leads them in his direction, that’s different.”

  “It’s your decision,” Blaine said, maybe still a little begrudgingly. It touched her that he was so concerned.

  “As long as we’re all here, maybe we could just go get something to eat,” Tilda said.

  “Yes,” Josh said immediately. “Italian?” he asked, pointing at the restaurant across the street.

  “Fine with me,” Blaine said.

  “Carbohydrates always make me happy,” Tilda murmured. She turned to pick up the garment that she’d come for.

  “That’s your prom dress?” Josh asked, pointing at the garment.

  “Prom dress?” Blaine repeated.

  “Mom has to chaperone the senior prom on Saturday night.”

  “The teachers take turns,” Tilda offered.

  “Pretty,” Blaine said, sounding a bit bemused.

  She felt heat move through her body. Was he recalling that she’d gotten pregnant on their prom night? She tried to read his face but didn’t have a clue what was going through his mind.

  She tried to focus on the here and now. It was a pretty dress. Royal blue silk with a fitted bodice with lace overlay, an empire belt and a flare skirt that hit right above the knee. She’d bought it for a wedding two years ago, and this would be the second time she’d worn it. “Thanks,” she said, tossing it over her arm. She reached for the door, and they walked across the street.

  They were seated, and a few minutes later had placed their orders. Then Blaine leaned forward, looking at Josh. “You know, I took your mom to prom the year we were seniors.”

  Surely he didn’t intend to tell Josh that story.

  “No way,” Josh said. “That’s cool.”

  “Very cool.” Blaine winked at him. “She wore a red dress that night. In fact,” he said, reaching for his wallet, “I can show you a picture.”

  She almost choked on her water. He had a pic
ture of them. And when he pulled it out, she saw that it was creased and lined, as if it had logged some miles in his wallet. “Oh my gosh,” she managed.

  “You were pretty,” Josh said.

  “Before I became old and haggard,” Tilda teased, desperately needing to lighten the moment. Blaine had carried around a picture of them all these years. That, combined with all the other things that had happened, was almost too much.

  For more than twenty-four hours, since waking up from her late-afternoon nap to find that Josh was missing, she’d seemed to be at a fever pitch. Even today, while at home with him, she’d felt oddly off-balance. Had tried to brush it off, telling herself that it was because she wasn’t where she was supposed to be—at work. That she’d probably had less than two hours of sleep the night before. That she’d contemplated the very worst thing a parent can think of—that her child was not safe and would not return.

  But it was more than that. And now, after the tires incident, she definitely wasn’t up to taking on a surprisingly sentimental Blaine.

  Fortunately, he didn’t seem inclined to do that, either. He put away the photo without further comment and asked about Josh’s summer baseball season. Then they talked about the upcoming film festival. It attracted so many people that her church even got in the act and operated a taco stand in the area that the city approved for exactly that purpose. She’d volunteered in the past and was planning on doing so again.

  Blaine talked about being excited for his family. Wyatt would soon be a father. Decker was a newlywed, and Sloane had recently remarried. He mentioned picking up some more responsibilities at The Lodge and amused them by relaying an encounter with one guest, who swore that the carpet in her room was moving. When Blaine had tried to clarify if the carpet was loose and coming up from the floor, the woman had insisted that the pattern was moving, back and forth, sometimes disappearing altogether.

  “I wasn’t sure what I could do for her,” Blaine admitted.

  “Perhaps she purchased some of the state flower,” Josh said.