Colton Manhunt

by Jane Godman

  “Katrina, it’s not like that.” It had been a long time since he’d tried to reason with an angry woman, and his skills were a little on the rusty side.

  “It’s okay. I’ll investigate Eliza’s disappearance on my own.”

  “No.” She raised her eyebrows at the forcefulness of his tone. “You are not to do that. It’s too dangerous.”

  Arms folded across her chest, she turned to face him. “So you won’t assist me, but I’m forbidden to go it alone? Thanks, Sergeant Colton, you’ve been a great help.”

  “I’m offering you the best I can do with the resources available.” It sounded like a lame official line even to his own ears.

  “Well, I appreciate your input.” She huffed out a breath. “If that’s all?”

  “It’s not.” He understood that she was hurt, but if she was trying to annoy him, she was succeeding. “I need to check out your security system, remember?”

  * * *

  “I suggest you upgrade the locks on the downstairs windows,” Spencer said after he completed his inspection of the house. “And I’d recommend a video-entry system for the front door.”

  “Thank you.” Katrina’s anger had started to fade and she realized she had been unfair to him. In reality, she was more upset with herself than with him. She had gone through her whole life relying solely on her own wits and judgment. Having been born to a teenage, drug-addicted mother, the twins had never known their father. Growing up, their maternal grandparents had been their only other family.

  Mollie Perry had been unable to care for herself, let alone her daughters. She had been known to the police not only because of her substance abuse but also because of her attention-seeking behavior. As a result, Katrina’s grandparents had been busy trying to keep everybody safe. As a child, Katrina had quickly learned that she was all alone in life.

  Why had she suddenly broken her own rule and placed her trust in Spencer Colton? The only reason she could think of was that she was overwrought because of her fears for Eliza.

  Conceding that she’d overreacted was one thing. Acknowledging it was another. She barely knew Spencer, and once they entered the house, he’d retreated behind a professional front. The sympathetic, helpful guy with the warm smile was gone, and in his place was a brisk cop who rattled off a checklist of security questions. Even if she’d wanted to apologize, she wouldn’t have known how to get past the professional barrier he’d put up.

  “Have you considered putting in motion-sensitive lights in the yard?” Spencer asked. “It can be a deterrent to anyone snooping.”

  “I thought about it. But any canine visitors would probably keep setting the lights off and it would drive me to distraction.”

  “You could be right. In that case, I think I’ve covered everything.” He clicked his fingers and the ever-obedient Boris moved quickly to his side. For an instant, as he looked down at her, Katrina glimpsed a return of the softer expression she’d seen at the police station. “Remember what I said.”

  She frowned. “You can’t expect me not to look for my sister.”

  “Keep trying to make contact with her by all means. Just stay away from the AAG.” He stepped out onto the porch. “And you know where I am if you need me.”

  She watched him as he walked to his car, wondering at the curious sensation of emptiness his departure brought. It felt like a connection had been severed. She shook aside the thought, labeling it foolish. How could you break something that didn’t exist? She’d learned a long time ago that the safest attachments were to dogs. Apart from her grandparents, who had done their best to provide love and care against the odds, her only family had been her mother and Eliza, both of whom had depended on their addictions more than her. No, people were best kept at a distance. She had no bond with Spencer. And that was the way she liked it.

  You know where I am if you need me. Had it been an invitation? More likely it was just a turn of phrase. The sort of casual remark he made at the end of every encounter. And why would she need him again? His intervention had hardly been helpful.

  Stepping back inside the house, she checked the time. She was scheduled to teach a couple of evening training classes at Look Who’s Walking, but she still had time to walk the dogs before dinner. Wandering into the kitchen, she removed a letter that she’d pinned to the cork noticeboard. Dog Daze was a new restaurant that had opened on Mustang Boulevard. Catering to pooch lovers, it featured a canine menu alongside the human one. The owners had offered Katrina a free meal in return for an honest review on her Look Who’s Walking blog.

  Tonight seemed like a good time to take them up on their offer. And while she was in town, maybe she could ask a few questions about the AAG.

  Spencer’s warning flashed into her mind and she tapped her fingers on the counter. How could he tell her in one breath that the message from the AAG was that Eliza had gone of her own accord, and then warn her to stay away, in case things got dangerous? Without giving her a reason to back off, he couldn’t expect her to take him seriously. It was probably a standard police line.

  Having called ahead to make a reservation, she found a split leash, attaching both dogs to it, and set off in the direction of Mustang Boulevard. The three-mile-long main drag was home to several restaurants, bars and coffee shops, and the warm weather had brought the town’s residents out in large numbers.

  After some initial reluctance, Dobby and Holly settled into a comfortable pattern of walking together on one leash. Holly was cute enough to attract attention and Dobby enjoyed fussing from humans. They were constantly stopped by admirers who wanted to pet them. The only problems occurred when Dobby smelled food and tried to drag Katrina and Holly with him to track it down.

  Since there were AAG posters in almost every window, it was easy to strike up a conversation with people she encountered.

  “I hear they’ve been doing good work since the earthquake.” For the most part, she got positive responses to that comment. The AAG came across as popular and well-meaning. Katrina listened to several stories of people who had benefited from their good work.

  It was only when she got close to the crossroads near Bubba’s Diner that she came across anything different. A group of five AAG members had set up a stand on the sidewalk, and they were handing out leaflets to passersby. As Katrina approached, she could see that Leigh Dennings and her two goons, Randall and Bart, were among the group. The stand was covered in posters including a picture of Micheline Anderson and the slogan Be Your Best You! The information stated that Micheline was scheduled to give a series of talks about the group’s philosophy over the coming weeks.

  Although Be Your Best You! featured prominently in everything the AAG did, Katrina wondered for the first time about the philosophy underlying that slogan. She’d never heard any detail about what it actually meant, but perhaps that was reserved for the paying customers?

  Katrina drew level with them and shook her head as one of the group waved a leaflet in her direction. Just then, a car pulled up and the driver’s door was flung open. A woman jumped out and dashed over to the AAG stand.

  “You people are cheaters and I want my money back.” Her voice was loud and a group of women who were just about to enter Bubba’s Diner paused to watch what was happening.

  Leigh took out her cell and started to make a call while Randall stepped forward. “Ma’am, this is not a good time—”

  “I loaned my son a thousand dollars and I’ve just found out he used it for a seminar on ‘becoming his best self.’” Her voice dripped with sarcasm and she made an air-quote gesture as she said the words. “What sort of mumbo jumbo is that?”

  “I think you’ll find that your son will have reaped the incredible rewards that come from an Affirmation Alliance seminar.”

  “My son just lost his dad in a horrible accident. He’s sad and vulnerable.” Katrina began to listen a little more carefully. Eliza had
also been susceptible, and she, too, had become involved with the AAG. Was there a link? “You people preyed on his grief.”

  Katrina was close enough to hear Leigh as she ended her call. She spoke quietly to the group around her. “Micheline said this is bad publicity. We need to close it down fast.”

  Moving swiftly, the other AAG members surrounded the irate woman, effectively blocking her from view. As she raised her voice, they started to talk loudly, drowning out her protests. Seconds later, she was being hustled into her car by Randall and Bart. Katrina didn’t see them actually touch her. It was more that they invaded her space and gave her nowhere else to go.

  She looked around. No one else seemed to have noticed what was going on. Should she film what was happening? Take a picture? Call someone? But who? An image of Spencer Colton flashed into her mind and she reached into her pocket for her cell. Even as her fingers began to swipe through her address book for his number, she hesitated. Why would he believe her about this incident when he had been lukewarm about her suspicions concerning Eliza?

  “You’re overwrought, ma’am,” Randall said. “You should go home and rest.”

  Instead of calling Spencer, Katrina continued to watch. As she tucked her cell back into her pocket, she looked up and encountered Randall’s gaze. The glare he gave her let her know he had recognized her, and it made her feel uncomfortable. Keeping her head down, she walked briskly away.

  Chapter 4

  Although Spencer wasn’t close with the Colton Oil branch of the clan, he liked them well enough. Certainly, most of the board members had been cooperative during the investigation into the shooting of Payne Colton; only Ace had really seemed volatile.

  To be fair, Spencer couldn’t blame Ace for not wanting to help the police. Not only had he recently discovered that he wasn’t a Colton by birth, it was also obvious that he was likely the chief suspect in Payne’s attempted murder.

  Now, Ace Colton was proving to be a problem when it came to setting up his sting operation. Technically, he didn’t need the family’s permission to proceed, but it would be smart to work with them, and the idea had come from a suggestion Asher and Jarvis had made. Since he would be moving Payne to another room, the Coltons could claim the police had been affecting their injured relative’s care. With that in mind, he wanted to strike a balance. He wanted to keep the plan secret from Ace, who had been lying low since being labeled chief suspect—while making sure the rest of the family was well informed.

  “You’re absolutely sure that this sting operation can’t backfire and place our father in danger?” Ainsley Colton asked. An attorney for Colton Oil, she glanced at her half sister, Marlowe, Colton Oil CEO, and seemed to be seeking her approval to question the police tactics. Marlowe gave an approving nod.

  They were seated in Spencer’s office and he had outlined the final details for the plan.

  “As you know, I have a story ready to be put out to a few local busybodies and media outlets that Payne is recovering,” Spencer said. “Once that news is out there in the public, we have to be on high alert. I’m counting on the fact that the shooter, assuming Payne will be ready to talk and reveal his identity, will want to finish the job.”

  “That’s what we’re worried about.” Marlowe looked concerned.

  “Before I even release the story, I’ll have Payne moved to another floor of the hospital. He’ll have a police guard.” He looked around the table, making eye contact with each of them in turn. “The family can be involved in guarding him, as well, but there will always be a police presence.” He didn’t explain his reasoning. So far Ace had stayed away, but, if he was the shooter, there was no way Spencer was giving him a chance to be alone with his father.

  “There will be an officer acting as a decoy in the original hospital bed with other cops hiding in the room. If and when the shooter arrives, we’ll let him get up close before arresting him.”

  “You make it sound easy,” Ainsley said. “Are you sharing these details because you need our permission to move him?”

  “I’d like to think I have your agreement to this plan.” He didn’t want to get into a fight with Payne’s family over this. “We’re all on the same side and we want this guy caught as fast as possible. Which is why I need you to keep these details secret.”

  The siblings exchanged a glance and he knew what they were thinking. If the attacker was someone connected to the family, they needed to make sure he, or possibly she, didn’t know about the intended sting.

  Ainsley nodded. “You can rely on our discretion.”

  When they’d gone, he called Kerry into his office and relayed the details of the meeting to her. “Tomorrow we’ll go ahead and inform our sources that Payne Colton is recovering.”

  She scribbled in her notepad. “I’ve contacted the technicians about the security-camera images from the night of the shooting. So far, they haven’t had any more success with enhancing them.”

  “It feels like this shooter has either been very lucky or very clever. Either way, we don’t have any firm leads.” Spencer pushed away the case file and got to his feet. “We have to hope this plan to flush him out is successful.”

  After Kerry had gone, he plowed on with his backlog of administrative tasks, working through the morning until his stomach told him it was time to call a halt. When he paused and checked the time on his cell phone, he experienced a pang of disappointment that there were no calls or messages from Katrina.

  It’s a good thing. It means she hasn’t had any further trouble.

  For some reason, the reminder didn’t make him feel any better. He’d told her to call him if she needed him. He said that to all victims, of course. But in Katrina’s case, he just wanted her to reach out to him. And that was a problem. Because no matter how attracted he was to her, he would never act on it. He knew how it worked. First came an emotional pull. That was followed by the sweet, heady rush of falling in love. Finally, there was the jagged, knife-edge pain of loss. Spencer had been there before and he was never going back again.

  He was just about to place his cell in his pocket and go in search of some tasteless but necessary food, when the display indicated an incoming call. Almost as if his thoughts had conjured up her name, he saw it was from Katrina.

  “Is everything okay?” He already knew the answer. She wouldn’t be calling him if it was.

  “There’s something I need to talk to you about. It may be nothing, but...” There was a note in her voice that told him it wasn’t nothing. “Is there a good time to come to the station?”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Um... No.”

  “Nor have I.” Spencer got to his feet and clicked his fingers at Boris. “I’ll pick up some food and come to you.”

  Alongside his concern for her, the pull of excitement at the thought of seeing her again was more intense than anything he had ever experienced. For the first time, he wondered what would happen if he ignored his natural caution and explored his feelings.

  Never going to happen.

  His interest in Katrina was professional. If he kept telling himself that, everything would be just fine.

  * * *

  After finishing her morning training schedule, Katrina had decided to take Dobby and Holly to the nearby park. The dogs didn’t need the exercise. There was more than enough to keep them occupied at Look Who’s Walking. The reason for the walk was actually to clear her head.

  She’d spent much of the previous night dwelling on the incident she’d witnessed with the irate woman and the AAG members. The more she thought about it, the more uncomfortable she became. It had been such an extreme reaction to a minor incident. And the way Randall and Bart had hustled the woman had looked practiced, something they’d done before. After musing over it for most of the morning, she had decided to put aside her reservations about Spencer and call him. When he’d suggested lunch, she’d turne
d around and headed back through the park the way she came.

  The entrance to Mustang Park was at the southern end of Mustang Boulevard. It was a well-kept public space with picnic tables, paths and a large wooded area that was popular with dog walkers. Holly loved to run along with her nose to the ground, sniffing out creatures both real and imagined. After watching her for a moment or two, Dobby had enthusiastically joined in.

  It was when she had retraced her steps, passing the picnic area and entering the woodland that Katrina became conscious of a man walking close behind her. Turning her head slightly, she saw out of the corner of her eye that he was just a few steps away. That shouldn’t have been a cause for alarm and she tried to dismiss the prickly feeling along the back of her neck. It was just that too much had gone on over the last few days and she knew she was now feeling jumpy without any real cause...

  When she sensed him drawing nearer, she called the dogs back to her and attached their leash. She’d wanted fresh air, but not at the expense of the theft of her wallet. Or worse. Swinging around, she prepared to face the guy, even challenge him, if necessary. To her surprise, though, the mysterious figure had gone.

  Feeling relieved, and slightly foolish, she continued along the narrow track between the trees. She was in a lonely space, and at this time of day, there were few other people around. After she had walked for several minutes, she glanced to her right and into the denser tree cover. Her heart leaped when she saw the same hooded man moving among the tree trunks.

  Coincidence. That was what she tried to tell herself as she increased her pace. But the image of Randall Cook’s face as he caught her with her cell in her hand as she watched the scene with the unhappy woman persistently intruded into her thoughts. She had no reason to believe this man was connected to that incident—had no real reason to believe he was following her—but her nerves were stretched like a rubber band.