Colton Manhunt

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Colton Manhunt Page 13

by Jane Godman


  “So who did persuade him?”

  With her heart almost pounding its way out of her chest, she got her finger onto the power button.

  “Someone cleverer than the Hannant guy.”

  One. Two. Three. She released a long, slow exhale.

  “But I’m not here to talk about that. My job is to give you another reminder, a painful one this time—”

  As the blade arced close to her face, she flinched away from him and he caught her by the hair.

  “Don’t make it hard for me. I need to make it look like you could have cut yourself.”

  * * *

  Stepping from the air-conditioned house into the June night was like walking into a furnace. Spencer remembered his father had a phrase to describe the Mustang Valley seasons. Winter is warm, spring is hot and summer is hotter than hell. At least Katrina had made sure the dogs had a large, state-of-the-art kennel, complete with its own AC system. Kennel wasn’t a fancy enough name for the accommodation Katrina provided for her dogs. It was more like a small house.

  He spoke a word of quiet reassurance to Boris and the obedient canine fell silent. Holly and Dobby took their cue from the top dog and Spencer was able to check out the yard without distractions. Silently, he made his way to the point where he’d seen the figure in the shadows. Although the yard was in near darkness, from his vantage point at the window, he’d gotten the impression from the person’s size and physique that it was a man.

  When he reached the place where he’d seen that person skulking, there was no one around. Reaching into the pocket of his sweatpants for his cell phone, he pulled it out and activated the flashlight. The yard was a large one, and scanning it using such a small beam would take all night. Luckily, Spencer had a far more effective method at his disposal.

  She had given Spencer the code to open the kennel door and he used it now, stepping quickly inside. Holly and Dobby pranced around him in delight, clearly expecting some middle-of-the-night treats. After giving them a quick pat, Spencer reached for Boris’s work harness, which he’d hung on a hook near the door.

  His canine partner came quickly to attention. Boris understood exactly what was going on. Once he was in the harness, Boris became a police officer, a dedicated member of the team.

  “Okay.” Spencer finished fastening the clips in place. “Let’s go.”

  The other dogs whined, but he was relieved that they didn’t bark when he and Boris left them. When he’d locked the kennel door again, Spencer crouched beside Boris.

  Boris was trained as a scent-specific search dog. If he was given something belonging to a person, he would discriminate that scent from the others around it and use it to hunt for the individual it matched. In this case, those skills were no use because Spencer didn’t know who they were searching for.

  Instead, because Spencer didn’t have anything belonging to his target to give the dog to guide him, he would have to send Boris on an air-scenting search. This was a hard skill for a dog to learn, one that was taught after the animal had become proficient in trailing. Boris would probe the whole area, seeking human-scent particles. He wouldn’t be detecting a precise scent. The dog would lead Spencer to any person he found. That was exactly what Spencer wanted him to do because anyone on Katrina’s property was trespassing.

  “Find.” So long as the same instruction was used each time, it didn’t matter what that word was.

  This was what Boris did best and he loved his job. Quivering with pleasure, the dog took off with his nose to the ground. Although the light was poor and it was hard to see his dark coat, the reflective fabric of his harness made him easy to follow in the light of Spencer’s flashlight.

  The dog worked systematically, starting with the perimeter. When he reached the area where Spencer had seen the shadowy figure, he circled several times. Snuffling at the lawn, he wagged his tail before taking off toward the house. To Spencer, who knew his partner’s signals, it was a clear indication that he had picked up a scent. When they reached the house, Boris halted beneath the window of the downstairs closet. It was the same one left open the first time an intruder had gotten into the house.

  Back then, Katrina had believed she must have left the window unlatched by mistake. Now it hung wide. But Spencer knew for sure that he’d checked every door and window before he served dinner. Which meant this one had been pried open from the outside. On closer inspection, Spencer could see that the hinges appeared to have been damaged.

  As he took in the implications of what he was seeing, his cell buzzed in his pocket. Snatching it out, he read the brief message. It was an emergency communication from Katrina’s cell phone. He didn’t know how she’d managed to activate it, but he knew what she was telling him. She was locked inside her own home with an intruder.

  He drew the key from his pocket and broke into a run. Boris stayed at his heels and he knew his obedient partner would remain there until given an order to take down the target. When he reached the back door, he paused, trying to remember leaving the house.

  Had the key grated in the lock? Had the door creaked? He didn’t want to alert the guy inside to his presence, but acting fast was his priority.

  To hell with it. Just get in there.

  After unlocking and opening the door as quietly as he could, he stepped inside. After a quick scan of the kitchen, he noticed nothing out of place. Then he heard a man’s voice, a low growl from the living room.

  “I need to make it look like you could have cut yourself.”

  That was all the incentive he needed to propel him into the hall with his weapon drawn. Standing to one side of the living-room door, he took a quick peek inside. And the blood in his veins turned to ice.

  Katrina was pressed into a corner of the sofa with her hands hidden at her sides. A tall man stood with his back to the door. Spencer could see the knife in his hand as he leaned close to her.

  There was no way Spencer could get a clear shot at the guy without endangering Katrina. There was only one thing to do. Sending his canine partner up against a guy with a knife wasn’t his preferred option, but there was no choice.

  “Hold.”

  Before the intruder even had time to swing around, Boris had darted into the room and clamped his jaws around the man’s calf. It was a paralyzing grip rather than a bite. The dog’s teeth would not penetrate the flesh.

  Spencer stepped into the room. “Mustang Valley Police. Drop the knife and put your hands up.”

  In a blur of movement, the intruder grabbed Katrina’s wrist and dragged her up from the sofa. Shifting his hold so that one arm was around her neck, he pressed the tip of the blade to a point just below her chin.

  “Call off the dog, or I’ll cut her throat.”

  Spencer was faced with a stark choice. He couldn’t guarantee any shot he took would incapacitate the intruder before he could harm Katrina. Nor could he be sure Boris would be able to take down the attacker in time to prevent that knife slicing into Katrina’s tender flesh.

  Reluctantly, he gave Boris the signal to come to heel. “Let her go.”

  “Okay.”

  Shoving Katrina full force at Spencer, the guy took off toward the kitchen. Reaching out to steady Katrina, Spencer was momentarily unbalanced. Although he managed to call out to Boris to give chase, he took a few moments before he followed his partner.

  First, he steadied Katrina, holding her by her upper arms. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “Just shaken.”

  “I need to—” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Go.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Catch him.”

  When he reached the kitchen, the door was open and there was no sign of the intruder or Boris. When he dashed into the yard, he caught a glimpse of Boris’s reflective harness and headed in that direction. By the time he caught up with his trusty companion, Boris was si
tting next to the fence with his head tilted back. As Spencer approached, the dog gave a soft whine as though expressing canine disappointment.

  “I know. But it’s not your fault he got away. And we will catch him.” Spencer patted the faithful dog on his broad head. “That’s a promise.”

  * * *

  Although Katrina was shaken, by the time Spencer returned to the house, her fear had been overtaken by anger. The hurt she felt was like an inferno rising up inside her, trying to burst through her outer shell and scorch everything around her.

  Having answered Suzie’s worried text and reassured her that the emergency message was a mistake, she walked through to the kitchen and waited by the door. As soon as Spencer stepped inside, she was ready for him. Not caring what had happened in the yard, whether he had caught up with the bad guy or not, she turned on him. Unable to disguise the quiver in her voice, she faced him full-on.

  “I suppose I imagined that? Made it up so I could look like a victim and get your attention? Like I did with Christie Foster and the speeding car and the other break-in...” Her breathing got the better of her voice and she paused for breath.

  He gave her a wary look. “Katrina—”

  She threw up a hand. “Don’t even try to explain. I’ve already heard all about it from the guy who just pulled a knife on me. How you’re here not because you want to look after me. No, you just need to make sure I’m not going to make up any more stories about being threatened. Isn’t that right?”

  “That’s not how it is.” For some reason, his calm tone fanned the flames of her rage.

  “No? Then tell me he was wrong. Tell me you didn’t think I was a fantasist who wanted you to believe I was a victim.” When he didn’t speak, she dashed a hand across her eyes. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me anything. Just leave.”

  “No.”

  For the first time in her life, Katrina experienced full-on, wanting-to-throw-something fury. “What do you mean no? This is my house.”

  “And some guy just broke in here with a knife. You can be as angry with me as you want...and we’ll talk about that some more when you’re feeling calm. But I’m not going anywhere.”

  As if to illustrate his point, he leaned against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest. Even through her anger, Katrina could see the wisdom of what he was saying. She was in danger. If that hadn’t been obvious before, it was now. A cop and his canine partner were about the best protection she could get. Even if the cop in question was the last man in the world she wanted under her roof.

  Could she tolerate Spencer’s presence until this was over? There was only one way to find out.

  Huffing out a breath, she strode past him. “We will not be talking about this anymore. The subject is closed. Just do your job and catch whoever is doing this.”

  When she reached her room, she alleviated some of her frustration by slamming the door behind her. Leaning against it, she reviewed what had just happened with a sensation of disbelief. Not only had a stranger broken into her home and threatened her with a knife, but he had also told her he was going to do it in a way that made it look like she could have inflicted the injuries on herself.

  Because that’s how people are seeing me now.

  As the sort of woman who was capable of self-harming to get attention. The fact that Spencer was one of the people who had viewed her that way felt like the worst kind of betrayal.

  Her thoughts jumped a step ahead. If she felt betrayed by him, did that mean she’d trusted him? Spencer had offered her security. Now she knew how he really viewed her, that safety had been withdrawn. In the short time she had known him, she had come to rely on his support. Now it was gone and her chest ached with a combination of sorrow and humiliation.

  Taking long, slow breaths, she forced herself to clear her mind and calm her nerves. She had learned a while ago not to take things personally. No one deserved to be hurt, but life didn’t follow a nice, neat path. Even though she wasn’t prepared to let Spencer get close again, she wouldn’t let this negative experience have a destructive outcome.

  She’d been living the life she wanted for herself before Spencer Colton came along. Through hard work and her own efforts, she’d built up a world where she could be comfortable. His blue eyes, dazzling smile and eye-popping muscles might have temporarily distracted her and made her wonder if she wanted more, but now she knew that he was shallow, she could dismiss him. She still needed his help to track down the person targeting her, and to find Eliza. But once that was done, she could relegate him to her memory bank.

  Getting back into bed, she closed her eyes, determined to grab a few hours’ sleep. Yes, she could dismiss Spencer Colton. She was almost sure of it.

  Chapter 11

  The atmosphere in Katrina’s house the next morning could only be described as frosty. Although he couldn’t blame Katrina for her anger, Spencer was determined to reason with her and make her understand his point of view. Since she wouldn’t even make eye contact with him, he was clearly facing an uphill struggle.

  “Coffee?” He held up the pot.

  She pointed to her full cup without speaking.

  “Ah.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the yard. “I’ll go let the dogs out. Freshen their water—”

  “It’s done.” She got to her feet. “I’ve been up for over an hour.”

  “I haven’t been lying in bed.” It was one thing to pledge not to let her get under his skin. It was quite another allowing her to deliberately rile him. “I was sending an email to my chief about the suspect who broke in here.”

  When she didn’t answer, he assumed he was about to get more of the silent treatment. Then she frowned.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Great question, Colton. What could possibly be bothering her?

  “Did you think he was disguising his voice?” she asked. “The guy who broke in here, I mean. It didn’t sound like a natural way of talking to me.”

  “I didn’t hear him speak much,” Spencer said. “Was there anything about him that seemed familiar to you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I knew him.”

  “If you remember anything, no matter how small, let me know.” Her face still wore a blank, hurt look, and he wished he knew how to get past that. Instinct told him that now was not a good time to bring up the subject of what the intruder had revealed. “Are you ready to go soon?”

  “Go?” Her forehead wrinkled. “Where?”

  “We’re trailing Leigh Dennings, remember?”

  “You still want to do that?” she asked.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, you know. I wondered if you’d want to go ahead with that plan.” She turned her head away, but not before he’d caught a flash of something that might have been pain in the depths of her eyes. “Given that you have doubts about my reliability.”

  “Katrina, I do not have any issues with you—”

  It was pointless continuing. She had sprung up from her seat and left the room. Resisting the temptation to curse out loud, he finished his coffee and checked his messages. There wasn’t anything that demanded his immediate attention, so he returned his cell to his pocket and went to the window to watch the dogs.

  Professionally, he knew keeping an open mind had been the right thing to do. Personally, it felt like he had screwed up. He didn’t know how things could have worked out with him and Katrina. There had already been too many questions and barriers. But he had feelings for her, of that there was no doubt. And he was fairly sure she’d felt the same. Past tense.

  By not being open with her, he’d created a gap between them so wide there was no chance of ever closing it. He’d known all along that she shied away from closeness. From now on, as far as emotions were concerned, he would be lucky if he caught a glimpse of hers in the distance.

  He’d spent
the rest of last night cursing fate and calling himself every name he could think of. Because, as it turned out, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward. He wanted her, and he was no longer afraid to admit it.

  Finding your emotional courage when it’s too late? Sounds about right. He ran a hand through his freshly washed hair. So what happens next? You tell her why it’s so hard for you to open up?

  He couldn’t believe he was contemplating opening up to her. Not just about Billie, but also about his parents and how losing them had affected him.

  He almost choked on his coffee at the thought. Katrina’s face, when she looked at him now, was a mask of hurt and contempt. He figured any attempt to restore his reputation would result in digging himself into a deeper hole. He might as well face it; the romance ship had sailed. The best he could wish for was that she would eventually understand that he’d been led in that direction and none of this was a reflection on her.

  When Katrina returned to the room and he caught a glimpse of her face, that hope soon faded. Her usual sparkling look had disappeared from her eyes. In its place, she regarded him with a wariness that made him want to reach out and hold her until she was reassured.

  Never gonna happen.

  Instead of her uniform, she was wearing jeans and a tight-fitting gray T-shirt. In her hand, she carried shades and a baseball cap. “I figured it’s just too hot to wear a scarf or a hoodie, but I can tuck my hair up inside the hat.”

  He nodded approvingly. “From what I’ve seen of Leigh Dennings, she’s pretty self-absorbed, so she’s unlikely to notice us. I’m not wearing my uniform, obviously, and I’ll put on a similar disguise to yours. I’ll need to take Boris to the station. One of the other officers may want to take him out with them. If not, he will still need his usual training routine.”

  “I’ll take Holly and Dobby to Look Who’s Walking.” For the first time, her composure slipped and her lip trembled slightly. “After everything that’s happened, I’m not leaving them here alone.”

 

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