by Addison Fox
It was an extraordinary set of circumstances, but the Colton family had quickly closed ranks around Len’s daughter, unwilling to paint her with the same brush as they did her father.
“As good as can be expected,” Melissa said. “Travis keeps a close eye and the two of them are busy with Colton Plastics and planning for the baby’s arrival. It’s keeping her occupied, which has to be good in this situation.”
“Does she know this latest news? About the home invasion?”
Melissa nodded. “I called her myself this morning. She handled it. She didn’t ask a lot of questions, but she held it together. And Travis has been a rock for her.”
Troy thought about what his cousin and his fiancée had dealt with over the past several months and was glad they had each other. He’d always believed he could handle whatever life threw at him—and had little interest in dragging a romantic partner into the risks that came with his work—but he also recognized the power of love.
Although he’d lost his mother when he was barely old enough to remember her, his father had always talked of the great love he shared with Amanda Colton. Geoff also spoke of how lucky he was to find a deep and lasting love with Leanne, long after he’d believed he would never find that sort of companionship and affection again. Lightening had struck twice, as it were. A special circumstance few were fortunate to experience.
“It’s good they’re together.” Troy nearly expanded on the point when his phone went off. Evangeline’s name registered on the readout. “I’m sorry, Mel, I need to take this.”
She waved him on, even as her gaze narrowed.
“Evangeline. What’s—”
“Troy! Someone was here. Outside. The shirt!”
Just like the night before, deep panic vibrated through the phone like a living, writhing entity. “What shirt?”
“The white shirt. It’s a bloody mess on my front step.”
Chapter 7
Evangeline huddled on the same living room chair as last night, the air conditioning blowing through the room making it feel like a tomb. She wanted to act—wanted to do something—but no matter how often she told herself to move, all she could do was huddle on the chair.
What was wrong with her?
That question frittered and flowed through her mind, at moments an insistent banging and at others quiet and meandering. It was the only one she could seem to conjure, even as fragments of thought kept telling her she should wait outside or at least stand near the window, keeping an eye on that shirt.
But the blood. It was so red. So real. And so...vicious.
The killer must have left it on her front door, a taunting tease that not only reinforced the fear of last night, but ensured something else.
He knew where she lived—and had been in her home, too.
The urgent sound of sirens suddenly filled the room.
Troy had come.
He was close. He was here. And that meant she was safe.
It was the only thing that could get her moving, she realized, as she stood and walked to the door. The sound of sirens was nearly overpowering as police cars pulled into the parking lot of her building. It was only when Evangeline heard the shouts through the door—and Troy’s reassuring voice—that she finally felt ready to open it again.
The door handle was heavy in her hand and she needed to grip it with both hands to turn it. Slowly, slowly it turned and she pulled on the door.
Only to find Troy standing across the threshold, a line of officers behind him.
“Evangeline!” His voice sounded far away as she stared down at the front stoop of her home.
The concrete was empty, no sign of anything even having been there. Frantically, her gaze shifted to the lawn that stretched out to either side. Had the shirt blown away? The summer air felt still around her, not a breeze in sight, but it wouldn’t take much to move a shirt, right?
Wind could have blown it from the front porch.
Only, as her gaze roamed the lawn on either side of her and further down the length of her condo building, Evangeline had to accept the truth.
There was no shirt.
No blood.
And no evidence it had ever existed.
* * *
The man watched from across the parking lot, a casual observer of what was taking place through his windshield. To anyone who saw him, including the rash of cops, he knew he’d just look like another guy waiting for someone in his car. The book in his lap would be a handy excuse should anyone knock on the window and question what he was doing there. Not that he was planning on sticking around.
But oh, how he’d wanted to see her face.
He’d been hiding down the yard when she opened the door to find the shirt and hadn’t had a chance to enjoy the stark shock that would have covered those angelic features.
But he heard the scream.
Loud and pure, it practically reverberated off the bricks of her condo building. And damn, was it a fitting punishment for all she’d failed to do. Because it turned out the angel had a pair of broken wings. And she deserved what she got.
A fact he was more than happy to prove to her by removing the shirt after she’d slammed the door on the evidence. Again, more proof that she couldn’t be trusted with the truth.
If she were a good lawyer working for the citizens of Grave Gulch County, she’d never have run in fear like that. She’d have picked up the shirt, no matter how much it bothered her, and brought it inside until her precious cop showed up.
But no.
She did just what he expected her to do. Slam the door on the truth. Just like she’d believed all the evidence from that phony, Randall Bowe.
Oh yeah, he thought as he slowly pulled out of his spot, circling the back of the parking lot to steer clear of the cops. Those wings were mighty broken. And she deserved every single thing that was coming her way.
* * *
Troy felt the hard, unyielding gazes of his chief and two fellow cops as he watched Evangeline, stare sightlessly from the chair in her living room. The scene felt way too much like the night before and he was struggling to find any sense of equilibrium as he considered the shuddering woman in the chair.
How did he reconcile her with the strong, competent lawyer he knew?
And what in the hell was going on with her?
She hadn’t faked the dread in her voice when she’d called him, nor was she faking the situation now. He’d bet his badge on it.
But still, something remained overwhelmingly off. How was it possible she’d had three panic-inducing scares in a matter of twenty-four hours, yet there was no evidence any of them had taken place? They would get the security footage of the building and several uniforms were already fanning out to canvas the property for witnesses, but the lack of a bloody shirt was a problem.
He’d been so focused on thinking Davison was responsible, but was it possible Randall Bowe had targeted her somehow?
“Troy. Can I speak with you?” Melissa’s question was really a request and Troy shot a look at one of the deputies who’d arrived on scene, their silent exchange an order to keep watch on Evangeline.
Melissa waited at the front door of Evangeline’s condo and gestured Troy outside. The midday sun was high in the sky, summer making its presence known in the sticky heat. “You want to tell me what’s going on here?”
“She called me in distress, Mel.”
“I can see that. And you responded in kind.” His cousin spread her hand wide to take in the four police cars and scattering of cops milling around the small yard and parking area that made up the exterior of the condo complex. “What I can’t see is any sign of evidence.”
“I have an idea about that. Is it possible Bowe’s trying to exact some revenge? Planting evidence on her, then taking it away.”
“Troy—”
“He co
uld do it. He’s already proven he knows how to tamper with evidence, and he’s enjoyed making taunts when he can. Wouldn’t this be an escalation?”
“Troy!” Her voice was clipped and any sign of the family member and friend he knew and loved had vanished. Right now, she was fully his boss. “Are you listening to yourself? You’re making up reasons which, while fair, remove any and all responsibility off Ms. Whittaker.”
“But she’s scared, Mel.”
“And also currently on leave from a high-stress job. A leave that was directly related to letting a very guilty man go. A man who has murdered two more times in a serial fashion since her legal arguments got him released from our custody.”
“You’re blaming that on her?”
“Some of it, yes,” she admitted.
“Because she used evidence our department improperly handled?”
“Where are your loyalties, Troy?”
“Where are yours?”
In all the years he and Melissa had worked together, Troy couldn’t ever remember a harsher disagreement between the two of them. In addition to their familial bond, they had a close working relationship and had always been compatible.
But on this he simply couldn’t agree with her. He’d seen Evangeline’s face. Had watched her tremble in fear. Hell, he’d held her himself, and felt that bone-deep anxiety ripple through her.
He just couldn’t walk away from this.
“This isn’t about loyalty. This is about doing the job,” he said.
“Doing what job? Running at the drop of a hat to placate a hysterical woman?”
“That’s not fair.”
“The truth isn’t always fair.” Melissa shook her head before extending a hand in frustration. “Look at it out here. I’ve got damn near a third of the department stomping around this condo complex while a serial killer roams loose.”
“Other crimes haven’t stopped because Davison is out free. The Coltons know that better than most.” Troy saw the moment he might have gotten through to her. “Drew Orr tried to kill you in January, at the same time we were discovering the depth of Randall Bowe’s deception.”
“I know that. I lived it.” She had had to shoot the man dead herself when he attempted to kill her and her now-fiancé, Antonio.
“Clarke and Everleigh, too,” Troy pressed. “Everleigh was nearly killed by her ex-husband’s lover, the woman was so hell-bent on revenge.”
“You going to give me the whole list of Colton cousins, Troy? Because Travis and Tatiana are still reeling from that creep at Colton Plastics who had his twisted eye on her for far too long. Stanton and Dominique helped us uncover a drug ring operating right here in Grave Gulch County. And Desiree is finally able to sleep at night thanks to getting Danny back and living with the security and protection of Stavros’s love. You think I haven’t understood the pain my family has gone through these past months?”
“I know you have.”
“Then why are you tossing it in my face?”
“Because we Coltons know it better than most. We can’t ignore an upstanding citizen right here in Grave Gulch who needs our help.”
“What if she’s making it up?”
And there it was. The one piece of the puzzle he didn’t have an argument for. Because in each of his family’s experiences, there had been a clear problem. Escalating violence. Kidnappings. Serious threats.
Where was that here?
Other than what Evangeline claimed to have witnessed, there was nothing he could go on as tangible proof. And unlike his family situations where those terrible incidents had still somehow led to his family finding love, he and Evangeline weren’t a couple. Nor did interfering in her life as if he had a right to be there meet his personal standards as a member of the Grave Gulch PD.
In the end, all he could go on was his gut. And the continued feeling that something was going very, very wrong around Evangeline Whittaker.
“What if she isn’t?” Troy finally asked Melissa. “Can you honestly say we would have done our job serving and protecting this community if we ignore her?”
Melissa’s steady gaze finally dropped, that brilliant blue going cloudy when she lifted her eyes to him once more. “No. That’s not what I want.”
It was why Melissa was a good cop and an even better chief. She always did what was right and put the health and safety of her constituents above everything else.
“Let me ask you one thing, though.”
Troy nodded, already anticipating the warning.
“We’ve worked long and hard to have a good relationship between our precinct and the DA’s office. Randall Bowe’s actions have put a serious dent in that relationship.”
“Has anyone said anything to you? Has Arielle called you?”
Arielle Parks had a stellar reputation as Grave Gulch County’s district attorney but the pressure she’d been under could get to anyone.
“Arielle and I talk regularly about any number of things. We respect each other and also respect the offices we each represent. We’ve each taken our collective ownership for the damage Bowe has done.”
“Why do I sense a but in there?”
“I’m giving in on this a bit because Evangeline is one of Arielle’s best and most well-respected ADAs. And I trust Arielle’s opinion.” Melissa glanced around once more. Troy’s gaze followed and he couldn’t deny the way his fellow officers appeared to be done with work, the lack of evidence leaving them with little to do. “But I also can’t allow resources to be used this way.”
“I understand.”
“Why don’t you go talk to Evangeline? See if you can’t figure out what’s happening. She doesn’t have a door camera, which would have been a huge help in this situation.”
Troy had noticed the same and was already making plans to ensure Evangeline addressed that problem. They’d get the footage from the parking lot but he already knew there would be gaps in what area of the large parking lot the cameras reasonably covered.
In the meantime, his concern was more narrowly focused. He needed to get Evangeline calm and then get her thinking who could possibly be behind this rash of incidents.
Assuming, of course, it wasn’t her.
* * *
Evangeline hadn’t missed the skeptical looks tossed her way for the past hour. But the one she couldn’t dismiss from her thoughts was the serious once-over she’d gotten from Chief of Police Melissa Colton.
She’d met the other woman on several occasions, just as she had Troy. They had a cordial, professional relationship and Evangeline had always respected what Melissa had accomplished. While there were some women in law enforcement, Melissa’s ascension to chief—and well before forty—was a significant milestone. It was proof, Evangeline had always believed, of a department that truly championed the best person for the job.
It wasn’t a position a person attained resting on their laurels. And that sort of person—dogged, committed and absolutely competent—was rather intimidating when they stared you down like you were a common criminal.
Evangeline had finally escaped to the kitchen, puttering around and cleaning the grout around her already-clean sink for something to keep her occupied.
“The team’s wrapping up outside.” She stopped mid-scrub and turned to see Troy as he stepped into the kitchen.
She’d seen him just that morning but he’d clearly stopped home before going into work. He was now dressed in a crisp, blue button-down shirt and dark slacks. The look was professional and efficient and did nothing to diminish the lethal addition of the holster strapped across his back, his sidearm resting against his body.
“Is everyone gone?”
“Nearly everyone. There’s a team finishing up out front, and then they’ll head on out.”
“Look, Troy, I know how this must look and I’m sorry I called you over here. Sorry that a
ll these people had to come out on a false alarm.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Nothing? I called you in hysterics, again, and yet there’s nothing outside. I know how that must make me look. I can imagine what your colleagues are thinking. What Melissa is thinking.”
“Melissa and my colleagues and I all want to do the right thing. For this investigation and for you.”
The right thing? What was the right thing in this situation? She was a lawyer. She dealt in facts. And everything she’d encountered in the past twenty-four hours suggested otherwise.
It was why she had to convince him to leave. To just step away from whatever it was that was going on. Her own career had faced a significant hit these past weeks. She had no desire to do that to someone else. “I’ll understand if you just need to walk away.”
“Evangeline.” Troy moved closer to her, stepping fully into the kitchen. “I’m not walking away. From this, or from you.”
“I’m putting you at risk. Your career.”
“Clearly you are the one at risk.” The emphasis he put on the word you was pointed. But what that emphasis meant was more than a little scary.
Pushing that away and unwilling to have him dissuade her from doing the right thing, she dismissed his concern. “I’ll be fine.”
“With bloodied clothes on your front porch and strangers somehow sneaking into your house?”
“Who can even say that happened?”
“You can! You say it happened.”
“What if—” She broke off on a hard, unexpected sob. The truth was too horrible to even say. But it haunted her, the idea that her mind could be playing tricks on her like this. “What if I’m wrong?”
Troy pulled her into his arms and as those tight, warm bands wrapped around her, Evangeline allowed herself to give in. She wanted to be strong. More, she believed it was required of her, to stand on her own two feet and handle whatever life threw her way.
