by Debby Giusti
She hadn’t wanted that for him. She’d wanted him stopped and put behind bars. Now he wouldn’t stand trial, and the truth wouldn’t come out about his drug-trafficking operation.
The police would consider the case closed and not pursue the other people involved. The whole operation had to be far-reaching, stretching to Colombia and the resort where Trey had invited her to stay.
The memory of Briana played and replayed in her mind. Trey had introduced her to drugs and enticed her to do his bidding, but other folks had worked with him.
Colleen crossed her arms and looked out the French doors beyond the screen porch. Police cars were still parked in the drive, and the crime scene team was finishing up its work.
Evelyn had called a local carpenter who was replacing the doors Trey had broken.
Thinking back to when he’d crashed into the bathroom made her shiver. It all seemed surreal, almost like a dream.
Then she’d been in Frank’s arms, feeling his strength and support, which she’d needed. She hadn’t wanted to leave his embrace, but he had to take care of Duke. That sweet, faithful dog had done his best to save her from Trey. If Duke took a turn for the worse, she’d never forgive herself.
Tears burned her eyes. Frank had mumbled something about not being there for her. Then he’d left with Duke.
Evelyn had hovered nearby, no doubt sensing Colleen’s unease. Although she appreciated Evie’s support, Colleen longed to have Frank standing at her side.
Not wanting to answer any more questions, she had retreated to the guest room, claiming she needed rest.
She couldn’t relax. All she could do was think back to what had happened and glance at her watch.
What was taking Frank so long?
EIGHTEEN
Frank left the chief’s office still unsure of his future. Wilson had listened to the concerns Frank had about his compromised condition. An extended PT program would build him up physically, but a bigger problem was whether he was still an effective investigator. Although Frank hated to admit his limitations, after everything that had happened with Colleen, he was convinced he’d lost his edge.
The chief wasn’t known for empathy, but he’d offered advice. “Give yourself more time. Return to active duty, but not to full-blown investigative work at first.” Wilson suggested a desk job that wouldn’t be as taxing, either physically or mentally.
The thought of pushing papers left a bad taste in Frank’s mouth.
He exited the chief’s office still unsure of what he should do. The decision didn’t get any easier when he faced Colby again.
The other agent was at his desk and pointed to his computer screen. “I’ve been going over the photos on the memory card.”
“What’d you find?”
“It’s more like whom.” Colby hesitated. “I found Colleen.”
Frank nodded. “With a couple guys who work for Trey. She told me all about it. Trey insisted on taking the snapshot. Her refusal would have raised suspicion.”
“Not one photo, Frank. Many photos with known drug dealers.”
Colby scrolled through the digital pictures and stopped at one that showed Colleen on a couch flanked by two men, neither of whom looked like salt-of-the-earth types.
“Do you recognize those guys?” Colby asked.
“Negative.”
Colby provided names. “Atlanta’s Narcotics Enforcement Unit said they’re bad dudes.”
“You called them?”
“And emailed a copy of the photo.”
Frank sighed with exasperation. “I told you, Colleen needed to be careful and not raise Trey’s suspicion.”
Colby shook his head. “I not only question Colleen’s judgment but also the other dealers’. Why would they expose themselves to the camera and allow Trey to take their pictures? It doesn’t make sense unless they didn’t know they were being photographed. Maybe Trey wanted to have the goods on them in case they turned on him. He keeps the photos on the memory card. If the dealers give him a hard time, he’s got a way to blackmail them. He could control Colleen that way, too.” Colby sniffed. “Isn’t that what you thought Vivian and Colleen might be doing with that phone video?”
“Blackmailing Trey?”
“Exactly.”
“Vivian could have been, but Colleen just wanted more evidence to prove Trey’s guilt.”
“If that were the case, she took the wrong memory card. Trey’s not in any of these photos.”
“What are you trying to say, Colby?”
“I’m saying be careful. Colleen isn’t who you think she is.”
Frank clamped down on his jaw. The two men had known each other since their early days in the military, but Colby was walking close to the edge of their friendship.
“I’m heading back to Evelyn’s.”
“I may have it wrong, Frank. Colleen may be innocent, but—” Colby turned back to the monitor and tapped the screen. “In this photo everyone’s having fun. Laughing, eating, drinking. Some of them are smoking what looks like weed. The bowls of white powder on the table could be cocaine.”
Frank stared at the screen, unable to make sense of what he saw. “Colleen doesn’t do drugs. Her sister died of an overdose.”
“Which doesn’t mean she’s not involved. When Briana died, the Atlanta PD thought Colleen might have been her supplier.”
“How’d you find that out?”
“Ulster called again. He talked to Anderson.”
“Anderson’s got it wrong.” Frank mumbled a terse goodbye and headed back to his truck, frustrated with Colby.
He thought of the picture he’d seen of Colleen surrounded by a roomful of known criminals.
She was innocent of any involvement with drugs.
Frank was sure of it. Or would Colleen prove him wrong?
* * *
Colleen checked the time and then berated herself for being so concerned about Frank. The investigation was winding down, and Frank’s attention was back on his job. Trey was dead, and the CID had the memory chip. She was no longer needed.
Grabbing a tissue from the box near the bed, she wiped her eyes and pulled in a cleansing breath before she opened the door.
Evelyn was in the kitchen, making sandwiches that she offered to the police officers who stood nearby.
“May I help?” Colleen wanted to feel useful.
“I thought you were resting.”
She looked down at her hands. “I cleaned up a bit, but I couldn’t rest. I kept reliving what happened. It’s better if I have something to do.”
“There’s a pitcher of iced tea in the refrigerator. Fill some glasses and see who wants to take a break. The police have been working nonstop.”
Pounding came from the hallway.
“That’s Zack Barber. He’s a retired carpenter from my church. He was nearby, helping to restore one of the Amish farmhouses. He had some spare doors in the back of his truck that hadn’t fit the house he was helping to refurbish. He assured me the repairs wouldn’t take long.”
Colleen poured the tea and kept glancing down, expecting to see Duke. Not having him close by was unsettling. Remembering the reason troubled her even more.
She grabbed a tray from a cabinet and loaded it with the filled glasses.
“I’ll be outside.”
The officers thanked her profusely as they reached for the refreshing tea. A few followed her back into the kitchen. Evelyn was talking to Ron on the phone and smiled as they helped themselves to the sandwiches she had prepared.
“We’ll be finished shortly, ma’am,” one of them told Colleen, his voice low so he wouldn’t interfere with Evelyn’s phone call.
Colleen had struggled with law enforcement in Atlanta, but these men had come to her rescue when the 911 operator
had notified them about the break-in. Their rapid response had stopped Trey and potentially saved her life.
Yesterday, Officer Stoddard, the blond marathon runner, had been considerate when he questioned her. His voice had been filled with compassion, and he made note of everything she told him without raising his brow or shaking his head in disapproval.
Frank had been right. Not all cops were on the take.
As soon as he returned, she’d tell him she’d been wrong. She’d also thank him for inviting her to stay at his sister’s house and for helping her track down the memory card. He had protected her at the hospital and again the night Trey had broken into the screen porch as well as at the junkyard.
All Frank focused on was his bad timing, but he’d left Duke to guard the house and had counted on Ron and the loaded gun to ensure her safety. His foresight had allowed her to survive.
She steeled her spine. She could take care of herself. She’d done so in the past and she could again, but when Frank walked into the kitchen, she realized her mistake. She didn’t want to go back to Atlanta and be alone again. She wanted what Evelyn and Ron had.
Colleen wanted to smile and laugh and flirt whenever she saw Frank. She wanted to let her eyes twinkle with merriment and joy, which was the same look she’d seen in Evelyn’s eyes when Ron was nearby.
Stepping closer to Frank, she asked, “Is Duke okay?”
“The vet said he’ll be fine, but he needs to stay overnight for observation.”
“I know it was hard for you to leave him.” She pointed to the sandwiches. “Evelyn prepared food for the workers. I could pour you a glass of iced tea.”
He shook his head. “Don’t trouble yourself.”
The sharpness in his tone cut her to the core. Why was Frank acting so aloof?
The carpenter lumbered into the kitchen and nodded to Frank. “Tell Evelyn I finished working on those doors. I’ll come back in a few days in case she has any other repairs.”
When Evelyn got off the phone, she had a lightness to her step, which was a good sign.
After greeting Frank, she shared the news. “The doctor thinks Ron’s problem was a lack of potassium. He’s been working out recently and probably overdid it being in the sun so long with the relief effort. The doctor ordered more tests for tomorrow, but he’s optimistic and so is Ron.”
The good news lifted Colleen’s spirits. “Are you going back to the hospital?”
“Ron assured me he’ll be fine. I’ll visit him in the morning.”
She stepped closer to her brother. “He wanted to apologize for not coming over while you were gone. I told him he was silly to even give it a thought.”
Frank steeled his jaw. “I’m glad Ron’s doing better. He doesn’t need to worry. Colleen was able to handle the situation.”
She stared at him, unable to determine what he meant or what was bothering him.
“I need to talk to the police before they leave.” Frank left the kitchen.
Evelyn patted Colleen’s hand. “He’s struggling because he wasn’t here to rescue you.”
She shook her head. “There’s more to it. It’s not about Frank. It’s about me.”
“Give him a little time. He’s still trying to find himself.”
Colleen was running out of time. She needed to leave Freemont. Evidently she needed to leave Frank, as well.
NINETEEN
Frank had gotten a full summary of the crime scene investigation from Stoddard before he and the other officers left the area. They had bagged Frank’s weapon and had taken blood specimens from the bathroom floor. They’d lifted prints that were probably Trey’s and had photographed the entire house.
Once satisfied they’d gotten everything they needed, the police caravan pulled out of the driveway, and Frank headed back inside. Colleen was still in the kitchen, rinsing dishes and placing them in the dishwasher.
“Evelyn’s in her room. She looked tired. I told her to get some rest.”
“You should, as well.”
“As soon as I finish here.” She placed a glass in the upper rack. “I...I’m sorry about Duke.”
“He’ll be fine, I told you.”
“Still. I know how close you are.”
Frank nodded. “He’s a good dog, and he’s been a faithful companion. I can trust him.”
From the expression on her face, Frank knew his words had hit hard. He wasn’t talking about Duke, and she knew it.
More than anything, Frank wanted to believe Colleen. Colby was convinced of her involvement with the drug operation. The pictures proved it. At least that’s what Colby thought.
Frank wanted to defend her, which he had tried to do at CID Headquarters. Unfortunately, Colby had already made up his mind. Frank needed information that would prove her innocence without a shadow of a doubt. Information he could shove in Colby’s face and take to Special Agent in Charge Wilson.
“Are we back to trust issues again?” she asked.
“Colby found photos of you with a number of known drug dealers.” Frank wouldn’t mince words. He wanted everything out in the open.
She bristled, immediately on guard. “Haven’t we been over this before? I told you about the photo and why I agreed to have my picture taken.”
“There were more photos, Colleen. Lots of them showing you fraternizing with drug dealers.”
“I wasn’t fraternizing.”
“What were you doing?”
“Gathering evidence. Just as you do with your investigations.”
“I’m trained. You’re not. Why didn’t you let law enforcement handle it?”
“Because I don’t trust cops.”
He let out a lungful of hot air. “What about the joints everyone was smoking? The cocaine on the table?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m surprised the dealers would let Trey take their photo.”
“They might not have known.”
“What?”
“One night, I saw him hide a camera behind books on a shelf by his fireplace and program the shots to snap at a certain time.”
“You knew about the secret photos?”
Coleen was digging a bigger hole. One Frank didn’t want her to step into because the water in the hole wasn’t clear. It had turned a murky brown.
“He didn’t see me spying on him. I feigned a headache and went home early that night. I thought that was the only time he’d taken photos on the sly. Evidently I was wrong.”
“Did he plan to blackmail the others?”
“I’m not sure. He didn’t like people questioning his authority.”
“Did he suspect you?”
“Not until I took the memory card.”
“Vivian admitted to working for Trey.”
Colleen nodded.
“Was she blackmailing him? Is that why you arranged to meet at the roadside park?”
He waited for her to prove him wrong, but she just stared at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes filled with sorrow because she couldn’t deny what she knew to be the truth.
Had Colby been right all along?
Frank wanted to hit his hand into his other palm and feel pain for what he’d done to Colleen. He had wanted to prove her innocence. Instead her reticence was telling. His gut twisted. How had he been so wrong?
Colleen turned and hurried down the hall to the guest bedroom. The door slammed, slamming the door to his heart, as well.
Frank was back to when he’d first stumbled upon Colleen in the barn.
He didn’t know what to believe.
* * *
Tears burned Colleen’s eyes. She couldn’t stand there and listen to his accusations any longer. Nothing had changed. Frank didn�
�t see things clearly anymore. Maybe he’d suffered some traumatic brain injury when he’d been caught in the rubble. He couldn’t get past thinking she was guilty.
What a fool she’d been to trust him with the memory card and with her heart.
She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Throwing herself on the bed, she cried for all she’d lost. Her sister and now Frank’s trust that she’d never had. Tomorrow she’d leave Freemont and head back to Atlanta.
She didn’t want to see Frank again. The pain of his betrayal was too deep and too raw. Just as planned, she’d catch a flight to California and never return to Georgia again.
* * *
Frank picked up one of the sandwiches on the counter. His stomach was empty, and he needed food, but when he took a bite, it lodged in his throat. How could he have been so mistaken about Colleen?
He checked the doors to ensure they were secure out of habit. Trey would never hurt her again.
Turning off the overhead light, Frank headed to his room, but the thought of what had happened there kept playing in his head.
If he hadn’t left a loaded gun—just in case—the night would have had a completely different ending.
At least Colleen hadn’t been hurt.
He sat on the edge of his bed and dropped his head in his hands. If Duke were here, the trusty dog would have licked Frank’s hand and offered support. His nearness and the understanding in his brown eyes would have brought comfort.
But Duke wasn’t here, and Frank had nowhere to turn.
Come back to me.
Words from scripture he’d heard after the storm repeated again in his mind.
He rubbed his forehead. The reconstruction was going well, and the Amish were getting their lives back together while his was falling apart. They were a faithful people who put their hope in God.
He’d stopped relying on the Lord years ago. In those days, the old Frank could take care of himself. He made good decisions and was quickly earning a name for himself in investigation channels. Then he’d made a fateful mistake that nearly cost him his life.
Lord, forgive me for being too haughty, too proud to realize I needed you. The injury and illness opened my eyes to what’s important in life, and it isn’t good looks or brains and brawn. It’s you, Lord. I need you.
