Colton First Responder (The Coltons 0f Mustang Valley Book 4)

by Linda O. Johnston

  “So Winchell’s a search and rescue hero,” Grayson said with a grin, still petting the dog.

  “You’ve got it,” said his owner and handler. “Media folks were there, too, so I made sure to let them know Winchell and I were part of First Hand First Responders.”

  “Then you’re our hero, too.” Grayson stood again and held out his hand for Chad to shake it.

  After making a fuss over Winch some more, Grayson excused himself, letting his staff know he’d be in his office for a while. He had a lot of work to do there.

  First, he sat down at his desk and faced his computer. He researched the location of the buried senior and saw exactly what Chad had described, including some videos of Winchell at work—and Chad’s mention of First Hand. Grayson virtually applauded.

  The woman they’d saved, Susan Black, had suffered some significant injuries and was still in the hospital, but she was expected to make a full recovery.

  Good. Grayson was glad the woman would be okay. He was also glad to see positive publicity for First Hand.

  He next plowed through his emails, answering a lot of questions in them about what his company of first responders had done during and after the quake.

  He was also glad to see that a few were from contacts from police and fire departments they’d worked with outside but not far away from Mustang Valley. But some were strangers, inquiring into what his first responders could and couldn’t do in emergencies. Fortunately, Grayson kept his billing amounts within reason.

  Finally, he got to what he had intended to do all along: research the people involved in the case against Savannah.

  First, he searched Zane Oliver online. No surprises there. From all Grayson found, the guy had disappeared and was presumed dead, murdered by his ex-wife. A knife had been found in her home with his DNA on it.

  Grayson tried a little further digging. It appeared that Zane’s investment bank was still alive and profitable even without his presence. If so, Zane probably hadn’t been trying to run from a career gone bad.

  It was a shame, though, that Grayson couldn’t instantly find information about Zane’s personal finances.

  Maybe Savannah’s ex had invested his money back into accounts in the company to keep incurring further profits, still growing on behalf of his heirs, whoever they were, now that he was divorced.

  That was something Grayson would have to look into, too. But not right now.

  Next he researched that real estate developer Schuyler Wells, with whom Savannah had been accused of having an affair during her marriage. The guy was featured on a lot of websites mentioning construction and property sales, primarily around Mustang Valley. His picture was included in several of them, as were videos in which he described what wonderful homes and apartments and office buildings he’d been involved with planning and constructing—and now selling, undoubtedly for a nice profit, Grayson assumed. From what Grayson could see in the photos the middle-aged guy looked earnest and dedicated, with eyes staring straight into the camera, a tenor voice, and a hint of a knowing smile on his long face. His hair appeared short and impeccably groomed. He appeared to be of moderate height and mostly wore suits. A real real estate agent.

  But Grayson began getting bored with all the hype, finding nothing particularly exciting about Wells. Grayson figured it was nearly time to go on to his next subject—

  Only, oddly, he found something on one of the sites he next checked. Or not so oddly. Real estate moguls, with lots of construction and sales to their names, undoubtedly needed good attorneys to handle issues with buyers who found flaws or were otherwise unhappy with their purchases.

  Therefore it wasn’t a huge surprise to learn of a lawsuit that had been filed against Schuyler Wells Real Estate—or that his defense attorney in the tort action had been none other than Savannah’s criminal lawyer, Ian Wright.

  So the two of them knew each other. That didn’t necessarily mean they discussed Savannah.

  But of course they could have. And the impression Grayson had gathered was that Schuyler Wells had lied about an affair with Savannah to make her appear to have a stronger motive to kill her ex—although that didn’t make complete sense, since they were already divorced. Even if Zane had heard about a supposed affair and used that as a reason to divorce Savannah, once they were no longer a married couple, there’d be no reason for Savannah to murder Zane. He would have had more of a motive to murder her.

  Although of course Grayson didn’t know what the settlement of their assets involved. Even so, it was unlikely Savannah would become better off with Zane dead. She wouldn’t inherit anything since they were divorced, and it might be even harder for her to obtain whatever their divorce settlement was, if she hadn’t received all of it yet.

  Anyway, Grayson compiled the information that he had found on researching all three men. He’d show it to Savannah tomorrow.

  And then? Well, Grayson thought he might pay a visit to at least the lawyer, Ian Wright. Maybe just indicate that, since he’d found the van that had been transporting Savannah, he’d become interested in the murder case against her—and where would Ian go with it now if and when Savannah was found. What were his thoughts about that bloody knife that had become so vital in the case against Savannah? What else would he do to prove her innocent?

  Of course the guy would undoubtedly rant about attorney-client privilege. But even so...well, maybe he’d say something that would give Grayson a better idea of whether it would make sense for Savannah to turn herself in—or to run far, far away.

  Only then would Grayson let her know what he’d found out from Ian.

  And he wouldn’t be at all surprised if that lovely, determined woman who definitely thought for herself would listen to what he hoped would be his sound advice.

  * * *

  It was late afternoon. Savannah sat in her usual spot, reading an article on the Mustang Valley city government website about the history of the town. She already knew most of it, but at least it occupied a fragment of her mind. She’d used the battery-operated charger to make sure her new phone continued to have power.

  So far, no new ideas about chasing down Zane. And she hadn’t admitted it to herself, but she’d hoped that Grayson would come visit her sometime that day.

  That was just because she now had something else to ask him. Or so she told herself—even without believing it.

  Added to that was that she was lonesome, of course, with no one else around to talk to, no one she could trust enough to call even just to say hi.

  And—well, she refused to admit to herself that she really enjoyed Grayson and his company. His obvious determination to help her.

  His appealing looks that she could speculate about for the future...

  Not.

  Okay. Enough of this. She exited the website and pushed the button to make the phone’s screen go black, saving at least a little power.

  She glanced down at the notebook on the table beside her. Oh yes, she’d been making notes.

  Notes about things she would ask Grayson to do to help prove her innocence, though those remained sparse, and she couldn’t be sure he would do them anyway. More of her notes contained items she would ask Grayson to purchase for her—and of course she would reimburse him. Eventually. As a Colton, he undoubtedly had enough money to buy it in the first place.

  But he shouldn’t buy it anywhere in Mustang Valley or in a town near here, because she had listed a lot of things she needed to disguise herself so she could at least escape this cabin. Maybe go into town and eavesdrop or snoop around to find evidence against Zane. Even ask questions without being recognized. Or so she hoped.

  She grabbed the notebook and returned to the bathroom, where she again looked in the mirror.

  Good thing she’d been a thespian in a local high school, though she hadn’t followed up afterward. She’d acted in a couple of different plays,
even starred in one during her senior year.

  The English teachers had been in charge and they’d taught the actors—including Savannah—how to put on makeup that helped them resemble their characters.

  Savannah’s favorite role had been as a grandmother to a bunch of kids in a comedy. That meant she’d learned how to apply makeup to look older, which she intended to take advantage of now.

  She usually wore makeup to enhance her appearance, which she considered attractive enough.

  Now she would only ask Grayson to buy certain shades of foundation, eye shadow and hair dye, of course, since she planned a new haircut that would help disguise her even more. And she would be less recognizable if she wasn’t a blonde.

  She could always return to her original coloring in the future, when this was all behind her.

  As she had before, she studied her face and imagined what it would be like once she added lines to make her appear older, though her eyes would remain green, which could be a problem. But she didn’t want to suddenly start wearing contact lenses and possibly damage her vision.

  She looked at herself, then down at her list, and up into the mirror again.

  Okay, the list seemed good enough. Particularly because it also included the kind of clothes she would generally only wear while cleaning or on a hike or something—ratty T-shirts and jeans that already had holes in them, or whatever else was available at a discount shop.

  And as embarrassing as it was, she would also have to request more underwear. She hated to provide her size, but what else could she do? They should not be the luxury kind she usually wore, though no one but Grayson would know that.

  And yes, a new pair of athletic shoes, again not expensive but different from what she had now, the ones she had worn leaving the prison.

  Now all she had to do was wait until Grayson showed up again. Sometime.

  Surely he would. He’d promised.

  And she could request then that he leave town and go buy her all she needed.

  She only hoped he didn’t get caught. For her sake, sure. But also for his well-being, which was becoming more and more important to her.

  Chapter 10

  Grayson sat on the swanky beige coverlet on the antique bed in his room at Rattlesnake Ridge Ranch. Sort of. He had his own small wing on the second floor of this mansion, and so did each of his full siblings Ace and Ainsley.

  He’d seen Callum on his arrival, but no one else so far, since he’d kind of edged his way in via a side door as he mostly did. That was a good thing.

  But soon it would be time for dinner, the main reason he had come here at this time. After Callum’s coercion.

  Those who were here would discuss not only their dad’s dire medical condition but more about the current status of the family mystery: the true background of their oldest brother, Ace—and what had happened to his parents’ biological firstborn, for whom Ace had allegedly been swapped at birth.

  It had been a common topic of conversation among the group, ever since someone had sent those allegations to the Colton Oil board, which had shocked them all. But were they true? Even Grayson, despite his intentional distance from the family most of the time, wanted to know.

  He was curious.

  For now, he sat on the bed and surveyed the masculine headboard of pale wood, matched by the nightstand and the dresser with a mirror. He had picked these out when he was a lot younger, before he had even joined the military. He still liked them. And even if members of his hot-stuff wealthy family weren’t thrilled with them, they hadn’t gotten rid of them.

  After all, at least some of those family members still encouraged Grayson to actually live here full-time.

  His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of the pocket of his dressy gray slacks. He’d been dressed fine for work before but here, at the Colton digs, he always felt he needed to shine.

  It was Callum again. “Everyone’s starting to arrive. Come on down to the dining room.”

  “Right,” Grayson said and hung up.

  He took a deep breath. Would all of his siblings be here? He’d soon find out.

  He considered checking how he looked again in the full-length mirror in the bathroom—and ruled that out. Heck, even the change of clothes was more than he should have done. He was here, and that was all his family should care about.

  He strode out the door leading to the rest of the house. Before he reached the stairway that led down to the first floor—where the dining room was—he saw Ainsley approach from her wing, next to his. Ace’s wing was on this floor, too. All three of them had the same mother, the late Tessa Ainsley Colton.

  Maybe. That remained a question as to Ace.

  “Hi, Grayson,” Ainsley called, clearly hurrying to catch up. Ainsley was slightly older than Grayson, thirty-seven to his thirty-six. Their only other full sibling was Ace—or so everyone had thought before questions arose.

  “Hi, Ainsley.”

  Grayson waited till she reached him. She was much more involved with their relatives than he was—particularly as an attorney for Colton Oil. In fact, Grayson found her maybe a bit too devoted to the family, but that was just him. Ainsley was a pretty lady, well groomed even when not dressed in attorney clothes, like her current long-sleeved floral T-shirt and slacks. She was shorter than Grayson, with light eyes and hair an attractive chestnut shade.

  “So you did come.” Ainsley continued to walk toward the stairway as she patted him on the shoulder. “Callum said you would. I hoped so, especially because all of these horrible questions about Ace and whether he shot our father. Or not.”

  “I gather someone has more information, and that’s the reason we’re meeting up, right?” Grayson asked. He figured that if anyone knew anything around here, the smart and involved Ainsley would be it.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Hi, you two,” Callum called from the bottom of the steps. Younger than Ainsley and Grayson, he was a product of their dad’s relationship with his current wife, Genevieve. Callum was a big guy and a former Navy SEAL, and currently a bodyguard.

  And he was definitely a Colton.

  “Good evening, Callum,” Ainsley called, and Grayson just waved since they’d already seen each other since his arrival.

  “Hurry up,” Callum said. “Dinner is about to be served.”

  They walked through the amazingly decorated living room. Its wooden floor matched the trim on the walls. In the middle was an ornate table surrounded by upholstered chairs. It had a fireplace and an attractive vaulted ceiling, and a wide window overlooking one of the ranch’s pastures.

  The dining room connected with it via a rounded wall. It had an impressively carved table in its center, with upholstered chairs for diners, and splendid chandeliers above.

  Grayson headed there, with Ainsley and Callum behind him. Their other siblings were already seated.

  Grayson greeted Marlowe, Callum’s twin, and their older brother Asher, who was also Genevieve’s child. Genevieve wasn’t there, though. Was she at the hospital with their dad?

  Selina wasn’t there, either, but that was no surprise. Even though she was a big wheel at Colton Oil, their father’s second wife hadn’t had any children and wasn’t that close with Payne’s actual offspring. She did have her own house on this property, though.

  Grayson sat down beside Ace, slightly surprised he was there. But heck, no matter what his actual DNA might be, Ace had been brought up as a Colton, their oldest brother, and that was who he still was, at least in Grayson’s mind.

  Still, on hearing about the discrepancy, which was proven by a DNA test, their dad had immediately fired Ace as chief executive officer of Colton Oil, due to company bylaws.

  Even worse, because of their ensuing argument, Ace was also a suspect in their father’s shooting—probably another false allegation, like the accusation leveled at Savannah of her ex’
s murder.

  Ace hadn’t been arrested, at least not yet, so Grayson supposed he could do whatever he wanted, at least for now. Although he had also heard that Ace had been told not to leave town by the MVPD, including Kerry.

  Would any of that be brought up this evening? Most likely, or why was Callum so insistent he join his siblings tonight?

  What did they all want to talk about?

  “Hey, bro.” Ace gave Grayson a high five. “Long time no see.” Ace’s light brown hair was more unruly than Grayson was used to seeing it. Of course, when he’d represented Colton Oil, he had to maintain a professional look. He studied Grayson with his closely set dark eyes, as if trying to figure out what was on Grayson’s mind.

  “Lots going on as a first responder after the quake,” Grayson said, figuring that was a good enough excuse—though he’d been avoiding seeing people at the ranch even before that.

  He considered asking Ace more about how he was doing, and what he was doing now that he no longer ran the company. But as interested as he was in his brother’s answer, he decided to hold off for now.

  Water glasses had already been left by each place setting—all antique crystal, as far as Grayson could tell. Now a member of the kitchen staff whom Grayson hadn’t met previously placed salads arranged on fine china out in front of them.

  This was definitely a formal dinner.

  Grayson appreciated sitting between Ace and Ainsley, to whom he was closest, since they shared a mom.

  They had become even closer after their mother died, especially when their father began remarrying. Grayson had never become close with either of his stepmothers, though he had made himself get along with them. But the additional marriages, and siblings, had also contributed to his distance from the family, along with the urging by many of them for him to get more involved with Colton Oil.

  Now, the family members who were here all dug into their salads, conversing with the others around them. For a while. For a frustrating while to Grayson. And so he was the first to speak up.