Call Back: Magnolia Steel Mystery #3 (Magnolia Steele Mystery)

by Denise Grover Swank

  I didn’t protest, mostly because I had no idea if Brady would believe Owen might be out to hurt me. “Okay. But I want to know about your original plan.”

  “I told you.”

  I waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, I prodded. “Yeah, you have a friend of a friend who owns the place. Got it. But that doesn’t explain your plan.”

  “I put the envelope behind the barrel around ten forty-five. Then I waited for him to show up.”

  “Your phone call this afternoon was a fake, right?”

  He grinned. “Not entirely. I called my cell phone carrier and ignored the prompts.”

  “Sure, he showed up, but we’re no closer to figuring this out. It was hard to make out his voice, but it sounded raspier than Owen’s. So if it wasn’t Owen, was it someone working with him or someone else entirely? And if it was someone else entirely, he has to be someone familiar with my father’s friends, or one of yours.”

  He shot me a scowl. “I’m not ruling anyone out right now, but my guy is a vault. I trust him. I still think it’s Owen or one of his cronies. But maybe the footage will help tell us.”

  “How did you know I took a video?” I asked.

  His eyes widened. “You took a video?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know what we’ll see. I didn’t think of it until he came back the second time, but I was trying to keep out of sight, so it was at the wrong angle. Probably blurry, too, because of the rain.” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Let’s see it.”

  I pulled out my phone and played the footage. Between the rain, the bad camera angles, and the blinding headlights, it quickly became apparent I hadn’t gotten anything useful.

  Shutting the app once the video was finished, I snuck a glance to Colt. “If you weren’t talking about my video, what were you talking about?”

  “The reason I chose that location in the first place. I have access to the security cameras on the loading dock.” He dug his phone out of his pocket, swiped the screen, and pulled up an app. After logging in, he held out the phone so I could see it, showing me the current view of the loading dock area—dark and raining. Then he touched the screen and the image started rewinding at a rapid pace. He clicked on it again, slowing the recording down, and then pressed play. I watched as Camera Colt appeared with a folded-over manila envelope. He disappeared when he got within a couple of feet of the building.

  “Why’d you disappear?” I asked.

  “The barrel was out of the camera’s range,” he said. “Denny—my friend of a friend—had some trouble with vandalism, and he installed the surveillance system to see who was responsible. There’s a camera on the other side too. But the barrel is just out of view.”

  “And he just gave you the password to look at the footage?” I asked in an accusatory tone.

  “Hell, I set it up for him.”

  “What?”

  “I have several skill sets,” he said with a smirk. “How do you think I found those cameras in your apartment so quickly?”

  Good point.

  “I would have angled the ones at the loading dock differently for this,” he continued, “but I didn’t have time, and it would have been difficult to explain why I was messing around on the roof.” He started the footage again, and Camera Colt stepped back—presumably from the barrel—and walked offscreen to the right.

  “Denny typically doesn’t have deliveries on Wednesdays,” Colt said as he fast-forwarded the video. “That truck wasn’t supposed to be there. I was counting on being able to use both cameras.” He slowed the feed down to normal time again when the sedan came into view. The man got out of the car, advanced toward the barrel, disappeared, and then returned to his car. He glanced around before getting into the sedan and driving away.

  “Anything useful?” I asked. I hadn’t seen anything that looked helpful, but Colt was obviously more experienced with this sort of thing.

  “Not from this angle. Let’s watch the rest of the footage, although I’m pretty damn sure he stayed out of range when he came back.”

  He let the tape continue to play. I could see my head peeking out from under the trailer, then Colt diving underneath. Headlights shone on the wet pavement; then—several long moments later—Colt crawled out with his hands up. Neither the guy nor the car were visible.

  “Shit,” Colt cursed. “Let’s try the other camera. I was hoping to at least get a license plate number.”

  “If you got one, you could find out who it belonged to?”

  He shot me a look that suggested my question had insulted him to the core.

  “Sorry.”

  He tapped the screen, and sure enough, a new angle showed up—the semi from the other side. There was some distortion, probably from the raindrops, but the view was clear enough. A car whizzed backward across the screen, but Colt kept rewinding.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked.

  “You. I want to see when you showed up.” As if on cue, I appeared on the screen, scooting backward out from underneath the trailer. He stopped the video, then let it play normal time. “What gave you the idea to hide under there?” he asked.

  “I heard the car and knew I had to take cover.”

  “He could have killed you, Magnolia.” Colt sounded pissed again.

  “We’ve already established that, but from here on out, you can’t exclude me from your sting operations.”

  “Why would I include you?” he asked in disbelief. “There was absolutely no reason for you to be there tonight. Hell, the only reason I came was to verify that he showed up and capture him on video.”

  “You’re telling me you wouldn’t have gone out when he came back?”

  “Hell, no. I’m not an idiot. I would have let him spout off and hopefully incriminate himself—or at least give me something I could use.”

  “So I risked your life,” I said as horror washed through me. “It’s my fault he made that ultimatum.”

  He sighed and slumped back into the seat. “I understand why you did it. Hell, I would have done the same thing in your shoes, but I didn’t tell you what I was doing for this very reason. I didn’t want you to put yourself at risk. But from now on out, I’ll tell you what I can.”

  “What you can?” I asked in disbelief, jerking my hand from his. “Why not everything?” Then it hit me. “You’re not just doing this for me. I don’t think you’re even doing it for the gold, but it’s sure a nice bonus. What are you up to? Really?”

  He remained silent.

  All my insecurities came to roost. Men had always used me and then tossed me aside. I couldn’t ignore that most of them had been like Colt—womanizers. But I’d considered Colt a friend, my first real male friend, and I hadn’t expected this from him. Then it occurred to me, once again, that Colt didn’t have friendships with women. Shoot, even Belinda had pointed that out. The truth was hitting me square in the face, and I was hurt and embarrassed. “You’re using me.”

  He remained silent, confirming my fears. I reached for the door handle, but he leaned over and gently grabbed my hand. “Maggie, stop.”

  I did as he said, mostly because I couldn’t believe he wasn’t really my friend. Right or wrong, I’d grown to count on him. I wasn’t sure I could endure losing him right now. “I want the truth. Are you using me?”

  “I know it looks that way.”

  No admission of guilt, but no denial either. My wounded pride turned to anger. “For how long?”

  He looked out the windshield.

  Colt was the person whom I had trusted and confided in the most in all of this. I couldn’t do this alone, and I sure couldn’t handle his betrayal. “Was any of it real?” I asked through tears that clogged my throat.

  “Maggie.” He choked on my name.

  “You’re not even going to tell me how you’re using me or how long you’ve been doing it?” I shook my head. “Scrap that. I know how long. I’m not stupid. You started using me the night we met at Luke Powell’s.”

&nb
sp; “I’m your friend. I swear.”

  “But you won’t deny you’re using me?”

  “I promise you that it’s not like it sounds.”

  “It sounds pretty bad, Colt.”

  He turned to me. “I know.”

  “You just begged me to trust you, only to admit you’re using me. Why the hell should I trust you?”

  Something shifted in him—the expression on his face shuttered, and when he spoke, he sounded unlike himself. “I got caught up in something years ago, and I’m still paying for it.”

  “Your record?”

  He didn’t answer, but I could read between the lines.

  “You’re not even going to lie and come up with some bullshit answer to smooth this over?”

  Exhaustion covered his face. “I’m tired of lying to you, Maggie. I don’t want to lie anymore.”

  “You don’t have to lie anymore. We are no longer friends.” I reached for the door handle, but he pulled me back, more forceful this time. He grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face him. “You’re not safe, Magnolia, and not just from Frasier. You’ve stirred up a hell of a lot of shit that has been lying dormant for years. They’ve been waiting for you. You’re the trigger that started it all over again.”

  I lost all my fight. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about. Your father.”

  My anger resurfaced. “So your job is to spy on me? Find the gold and share it with your buddies?”

  “It’s not that simple, Maggie.”

  I pointed my finger in his face. “Don’t! Don’t you dare call me Maggie. Only my friends call me Maggie.”

  “I am your friend,” he said, but he sounded tired. “I may be the only real friend you have in this whole mess.” He reached for my arm, but I jerked out of his reach.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Look,” he said as he ran his hand through his hair. “I know you’re pissed, and I understand, but I really do care about you. Think about it—why would I have saved you back there otherwise? I’m doing everything in my power to make sure you’re safe. I can’t say the same about everyone else in your life.”

  The sad part was I suspected he was right. “Who are you?” I asked, my voice shaking.

  “I’m exactly who I said I was. Colt Austin. Aspiring country music singer and song writer. Part-time employee for Southern Belles Catering.”

  I shook my head. “No, you’re more than that. You’re leaving out a piece.”

  “Your friend,” he said quietly, inching closer. “And more.” Before I could react, he lowered his mouth to mine, hauling me to his chest in a tight embrace. Maybe he expected me to resist—part of my brain screamed to resist—but my body disobeyed. I kissed him back with a desperation so deep I couldn’t find the bottom.

  Desperation because I knew the truth, and I hated myself for it: I wanted Colt. I’d always wanted Colt. Brady was a kind and decent man who offered the promise of a good and normal life—the kind of life I’d once imagined with Tanner—but some screwed-up part of me didn’t want that. Instead, I wanted what I knew would ultimately end up hurting me, because I knew deep in my gut that Colt Austin would hurt me, yet some stupid part of me didn’t care.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  Still, I kept right on kissing him, my lips begging him to be the man I needed. My heart told me that he cared about me—he’d risked his life for me—but my head insisted his actions might be driven by some ulterior motive he refused to share.

  My head won out. I put my hands on his chest and shoved him away.

  “Don’t.” I choked on the word as a sob bubbled up. “You used me. You betrayed me. But I guess I’m the fool, huh? Because I kissed you back, just like one of those stupid twits who follows you around.”

  “No,” he said, anger in his eyes. “You’re not like them. You mean more.”

  “Then prove it! Tell me what you’re doing.”

  “I can’t.”

  I wiped a tear from my cheek, some stupid part of me refusing to believe he was the bad guy here. Surely there was some explanation. Why would he be so invested in this investigation? My gut told me it was more than the gold. “Are you with the police? Undercover?”

  “No, Maggie. I’m not an undercover cop.”

  “Then what are you?”

  “A man in shit so deep he can’t see any way out of it.”

  And I was in there too, mucking around with him.

  “What do you really plan to do with the gold?” I asked, sounding as weary as I felt.

  “Honest to God, I want to take the gold and leave the country. With you, Maggie. I’m not leaving without you.” He paused and searched my face. “If you believe nothing else, believe this—I will never hurt you. And I won’t let anyone else hurt you either. I should have known Lopez would come looking for the gold, even though I have no idea how he tracked it to you. Rico was careful when he started digging.”

  Holy shit. Colt knew details about my father. “Me,” I said in a whisper. “I asked him if the missing money could have been hidden in small packages. He said it was bigger than drugs. What was my father involved in?”

  He shook his head.

  “What do you want?” I asked, knowing I sounded desperate. “I’ll give you anything you want for what you know. You want all the gold? You can have it. Just tell me what you know.”

  “Oh, Maggie. I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both.”

  I turned away from him. “Take me to my mother’s.”

  “I know you’re pissed.”

  I swiveled back around. “Pissed? You treat me like I’m some stupid idiot, unworthy of the truth or unable to deal with it, and you think I might be pissed?”

  “No. I’m not treating you like an idiot. I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Why does everyone think I need protecting?” I shouted. “Sure, I may not be a cop, but I can handle bad things. After everything I’ve been through, I think I’ve proven that.”

  “What have you been through, Maggie?” he asked quietly. “Why did you slink away from me twice tonight? There was pure terror in your eyes when you saw the pocket knife in my hand.”

  Oh, shit. I had said too much.

  “What happened the night you disappeared?”

  It was the second time I’d been asked that question today, but unlike my mother, Colt didn’t deserve answers. Not when he was keeping them from me. “None of your fucking business.”

  He sighed and turned back to the steering wheel, grabbing hold of the lever to shift gears, but he paused. “I know it may not seem like it, but I am on your side. I’m stuck in the middle of something I don’t want you involved in, but I’m doing everything in my power to keep you safe.” Then he put the truck in drive and drove around the side of the building.

  We were quiet on the ten-minute drive, and the closer we got to Momma’s house, the more my anger subsided, replaced by uncertainty.

  Colt pulled into my mother’s driveway. He grabbed the steering wheel, his jaw tightening. “I think you should go to Bennett’s tonight.”

  “You could kiss me like that and still send me back to Brady?” I asked in disbelief.

  He didn’t answer for several seconds. “I care about you enough to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  I’d never been more confused in my life, but I had to believe Colt wanted me to be safe. Otherwise, he would have left me behind earlier, after the sedan came back. Had he cared more about his safety than mine, he would have slipped into that building alone. Instead, he’d stared down the barrel of a gun in the hopes it might keep me safe. A gun he wouldn’t have faced if I hadn’t shown up. And I had to agree with Colt’s reasoning about going to Brady’s, even if I felt lower than scum for going back to him after I’d so willingly kissed Colt.

  I shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the seat, then opened the truck door. Colt grabbed my arm. “Maggie. Text m
e when you’re in his apartment, okay?”

  “Yeah.” I hurried out before he could say anything else and ran up to Momma’s front door. I unlocked the door as quietly as I could and let myself in, hesitating for a moment as I watched Colt pull out of the driveway. I went into the kitchen to find a piece of paper and a pen to write her a note saying my car had broken down so I’d borrowed hers, but I’d drop it off at the catering business early in the morning and walk to Ava’s. Maybe she could call Tilly to pick her up. Then I grabbed the keys out of the bowl on the entry table and left.

  I was paranoid enough to continually check my rearview mirror, but the drive was uneventful. Then again, I was probably safe—at least from this threat—until Saturday night. I’d worry about how to handle this newest threat tomorrow.

  Once I was in the parking garage, I parked in a space in front of Brady’s car, relieved to have gotten there safely. After I got out, I walked toward the elevator but tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and put my hand on the hood of his car to keep from falling on my face.

  It was warm and water droplets still covered the roof and hood. Brady had driven it recently.

  I took a second look at it. Brady drove a dark sedan like the one that had been at the industrial park tonight.

  I gasped and stumbled backward. There had to be an explanation. I almost didn’t go up but decided I was being overly paranoid. Brady had checked in with me throughout the day to make sure I was safe, and like Colt, he had shown that he was concerned with my well-being.

  Still, my nerves were frayed, and I spent the whole elevator ride up to his apartment second-guessing my decision. By the time the elevator doors opened, I’d decided to go back to Momma’s. Tomorrow I’d find some time to buy another gun to replace the one that had been stolen from my purse with the gold—I’d feel better if I could protect myself rather than relying on someone else. But just as I was about to push the call button to close the doors, I saw the door to Brady’s apartment open. Owen stepped out. He glanced at me and did a double take.

  My body froze, and I started to panic, but I told myself to calm down. I had no proof that Owen was the man in the parking lot. In fact, I suspected he wasn’t. But I didn’t have time to speculate about what he did or didn’t do or know. I had to assume the role of a good girlfriend, and I had to assume it fast.