by Addison Fox
Connection. Connection.
What was the connection here?
He’d been so damned focused on Claudia’s ex-boyfriend or on Livia that he hadn’t considered who else might be involved.
“What have the authorities uncovered so far about your mother’s prison break?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Hear me out. I think we may be looking at this all wrong. Think about all that’s happened since she broke out of prison. Cody was kidnapped by one of your mother’s associates.”
“Right.” Claudia nodded. “But the man is dead and by Livia’s hand, no less.”
“And then there’s Leonor. She mentioned something last night there at the end of dinner after we told them all about the dead rats and the conversation drifted to Livia and her choices. She said that she believes she saw your mother in her hospital room.”
“After Livia took care of the other man trying to hurt Leonor, killing him, too.”
“Don’t you see the pattern?” Hawk asked. “Your mother is tying up loose ends.”
“And I’m a loose end?”
The horrified look negated any of the good feelings that had carried them to the car. When they’d left the clinic, he’d sensed a renewal in her spirit. Like the search for answers—real, tangible answers—would help them move forward.
But now?
The fear was back and along with it that frustrated anger that Livia Colton seemed to generate in all who knew her.
“You’re not a loose end, but her known associates are. What if they’ve ganged up and decided to harm her children as a chance to get back at her?”
“But why would anyone think that? You said it yourself, when I described going to see my mother in prison. She uses people for what they can give her. How they can advance whatever agenda she has. Her children don’t have that. Even if you put aside the fact she never cared all that much for any of us except maybe Leonor, we’re grown adults. It’s hard to see us as objects of revenge.”
“But the people she’s worked with don’t know that. They think she’s the loving matriarch of the Colton clan.”
Disbelief was layered beneath her questions, but as they talked it out, Hawk heard Claudia begin to come around.
“What we need to do is find out who is still at large from her pool of known associates. Do they know who broke her out of jail?”
“A few guards were the ones to help with the actual jailbreak. But there are others. Knox is convinced she has a judge in her pocket and Joshua has been quick to verify the same with his FBI contacts.”
“It goes that high?” Whatever he’d imagined about Livia Colton’s influence and network, it hadn’t been contacts like that.
“Joshua’s convinced there’s another one. Someone big,” Claudia added. “Someone who would have the influence and authority to get a lot of folks to look the other way for a while.”
“How did she build something like this? A network this large means people will talk.”
“Money. Lots and lots of money.”
“But her money’s been tied up for over a decade. La Bonne Vie, for example. Where’s the money there?”
“It’s there in the land and the house itself.”
“So why hasn’t anything been done with it?”
“The Treasury Department is the one who confiscated it. I suppose they have their reasons.”
Hawk shook his head, annoyed with himself that it had taken so long to put the pieces together. Was his police work that rusty? Or had he been looking in all the wrong places? While he technically was working for the Krupids, not uncovering Livia Colton’s extensive crimes, understanding how Livia made her money would lead him to the answers he needed. For the Krupids and for Claudia and her family.
“Claudia. Think about it. She went to jail and all her belongings were confiscated. Yet the feds have been willing to leave a valuable piece of property sit empty, just dying on the vine.”
“Okay, I suppose.”
“Her empire has continued to flourish, even though she’s been behind bars.”
“What empire?”
“The one that helped her break out. The same one that has given her a place to hide now that she’s free. There’s a reason she keeps showing up. And why trouble keeps following you and your sisters and brothers.”
“Now you’ve lost me again. What do a pile of dead rats and someone trying to run me off the road have to do with my mother’s jailbreak?”
“It’s all part of the same. She’s going after her network and her network’s trying to fight back. And when people are desperate, they’ll use anything at their disposal.”
“You mean coming after me and my siblings?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
* * *
Once again, Claudia tried to shake off the sheer roller coaster of emotion that seemed to haunt her at the very thought of her mother. Or her adoptive mother. Or whatever the heck Livia ultimately ended up being to her.
Known associates and criminals out for revenge? Outcomes that could only end in the murder of one human being by another.
Was this the reality of Livia’s life?
Because regardless of what she personally called her or how she thought of her, Livia Colton was at the heart of everything that was happening to her and her brothers and sisters.
So even with that knowledge and reasonable understanding, why did Hawk’s theory feel off, somehow?
It would be so easy to blame her mother for what was happening. But it didn’t fit with the incidents to date.
“How do you explain the dead rodents behind my store?”
“A gross and menacing way to grab attention.”
“Risky, too. Who knew I’d be in the back of the shop at that moment to hear the gunshot? And what if one of the other proprietors had showed up first? I realize it’s likely it would be me, but I do share that area with other businesses. All I’m suggesting is that it’s something of a bet to assume I’m going to be the one to walk out and discover that pile.”
“So it’s a way to throw us off the scent.”
Us.
Something warm and delicious shot through her at his use of the word us. And how had that happened?
She knew her recent definition of us was tainted by Ben’s behavior, but was it possible she actually had an us to cling to with Hawk Huntley?
He certainly seemed dedicated. Even his zealous approach to finding Annalise Krupid’s lost child had faded in the reality of her and her family’s situation. He seemed genuinely focused on helping her. And, by extension, her sisters and brothers, too.
But what if they were beyond help?
The question whispered through her mind, insidious as it swirled like mist, forming and reforming into a dismal fog.
Livia Colton had manipulated everything in her world, ultimately for her own benefit. Even now, long after they’d all believed themselves safe from her, she pulled strings, dancing everyone to a tune only she knew.
They were puppets—pawns in her game—and sadly, Claudia had to acknowledge to herself, none of them knew the rules.
Chapter 12
The barbecue was as good as promised and even a half-hour wait for service hadn’t diminished the product. In fact, Claudia thought as she resettled her napkin in her lap and eyed her brisket sandwich for another bite, the wait had only enhanced the experience. That deliciously dark, woodsy scent permeated the air and the rich flavor hovered on her tongue like a fine wine.
“Bet you can’t get this in New York.” Hawk lifted his own sandwich to his mouth and took a large bite.
She watched, fascinated by the long, strong column of his throat as he swallowed, then again as he took a sip of his sweet iced tea.
Had she actually st
ooped so low to watching a man eat and liking it?
Yes, came the resounding cry of something wonderfully feminine deep inside of her.
Goodness, the man fascinated her. From eating to kissing, to conversations about their past, nothing was off-limits. Nothing escaped her interest or notice.
“How’d you get into fashion? I know you love it and you’re always well put together, but what was the thing that pulled you in?”
“Pulled together?”
“Yeah.” He lifted his own napkin to his lips, catching a small dab of barbecue sauce that lingered on the corner of his mouth before his gaze met hers. All warm and beautiful blue; Claudia would swear a woman could fall into their depths and never climb back out. “You’re like something out of a magazine, yet you’re not untouchable.”
He wadded his napkin, then reached for several more out of the metal dispenser on the table between them. “That’s not quite right. Untouchable isn’t the word. Unreal. That’s better.”
“Thank you. I think?”
“Trust me, it’s a compliment. Like yesterday, with Cody.”
“When did Cody and I discuss fashion?”
“You didn’t. But there you were, all put together and looking glamorous at Mac’s and he runs up to you, filthy and smelling like horse.”
“He’s perfect. And there’s no resisting one of his hugs. Besides, why would I want to? They’re as perfect as he is.”
“Little boys are hardly perfect, especially not when they’re covered head to toe in whatever it is they’ve been rolling around in. But you didn’t notice any of it. You just pulled him in close.”
“I love him.”
“It’s nice. And it’s a sign that you don’t take fashion as an excuse not to be real. I like it. That’s all.”
“Well, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He dived back into his sandwich and Claudia wondered if she’d ever received such a lovely compliment before. The notice of her—and more, the notice of her behavior—was sweet.
And it made her feel like he saw her. All the way down to what lay beneath the accessories and the clothes and whatever color happened to catch her fancy that day.
Ben hadn’t seen it. And if she were honest, the men she’d dated prior to Ben hadn’t, either. She was a doll, dressed up and perfect when they were together. There’d been very few occasions when she’d been comfortable pulling off that facade and letting the real Claudia come through.
Yes, she had a true and deep love for fashion. A passion for beauty and the art of putting pretty things on to wear. But no matter how much she loved it, those were still just things. They didn’t replace her family. Or her hopes and dreams. Or the hugs of one small little boy who held her heart as surely as the next breath she took.
She wasn’t window dressing and not many people beyond her family understood that. So it was nice to know that Hawk did. It was even nicer to hear the words.
“Huntley!” The words boomed from somewhere over the back of her head and she saw Hawk’s gaze alight, then grow bright as he quickly stood and extended his hand.
“Andrew!”
She turned in her seat and came face-to-face with a bullish man with military-short hair and a big smile.
“Andrew. Let me introduce you to someone.” Hawk came around the table and stood by her side. “Claudia Colton, please meet Captain Andrew Radner, Houston PD.”
They exchanged handshakes and Hawk extended the invitation to join them.
“I’d love to, but I’m in line over there with a few of my colleagues. We’re up here in the capital for a statewide training session and were able to sneak over for some good grub during our lunch break.”
“This place is the best. In fact, come to think of it, you’re the one who hooked me on this place for a training session many years ago.”
Claudia was content to watch the byplay for a few minutes, their friendship obviously one forged in strong bonds.
A few moments later, Andrew clapped a hand on Hawk’s arm, even as his comments were directed at her. “I haven’t been successful in winning Hawk back over to rejoining the police department, but it looks like maybe this PI gig is starting to work out for him.”
They said their goodbyes and she watched Andrew walk back to the line. For all his strength and heft, the man had an almost regal bearing in him.
He’s a guardian. A watchdog.
The thought struck, clear as a bell, and it had her turning toward Hawk as she made the same connection.
That protector personality, so strong and sure, covered both men like the finest suit. It was what made them so likable and so easy to trust. More, it was the juxtaposition between Hawk and Sheriff Jeffries she hadn’t been able to put her finger on the day before that now made perfect sense.
Bud Jeffries saw his badge as a shield, allowing him to impart judgment and criticism on all who crossed his path. A tool that he believed made him “better than,” instead of understanding what the badge truly promised. Service to others.
Dedication and commitment to the truth.
Hawk had that, even as someone in private practice.
But it was only as she watched, his gaze wistful as he stared at the captain and the small group of men and women he stood in line with, that Claudia finally understood.
Once, Hawk had been a part of that. Had worn the badge and given his life in the service of others. Only he didn’t do that any longer. He’d relegated his gifts and his time and his life to cases that didn’t have much of a chance.
Yet one more thing that died along with his wife.
She’d bet Honeysuckle Road on it.
* * *
The cut-up newspaper lay around the feet of the Forgotten One, squares culled neatly from its pages. The tactic was an old one, but surprisingly effective as the work came to life on the plain sheet of white paper. The old-fashioned smell of rubber cement was a reminder of childhood, but the neat pasting of letters had a precision no child could accomplish.
The path had been laid out, the endgame in sight. The trap was set and patience was required for its ultimate fulfillment.
There’d been no patience this morning.
The opportunity to end things early—to drag the life from Claudia Colton’s body as surely as her mother had dragged the life from another child—had presented itself and was taken. But it was a premature act, miscalculated and ultimately ineffective.
There was no room for those sorts of mistakes, especially as more and more people came to Claudia’s aide. Even the sheriff had come to lend her a hand, and the rumors around Shadow Creek were that the Coltons had a disdain for law enforcement that couldn’t be righted. A belief they were above the law, passed from mother to child.
The Forgotten One knew that.
Knew the depths of that depravity.
Worse, knew the horrors the Colton family was capable of.
Sin came from the mother. It was passed down in the womb and a stain like that could never be righted.
That was why it must be blotted out.
* * *
The drive into Shadow Creek had gone a bit faster once they cleared Austin traffic and by early afternoon, Hawk was passing the Welcome to Shadow Creek sign that dominated the entrance to town. It had been a surprise to see Andrew, but good. It was always good to see Andrew.
The one man who’d remained steadfast in his belief in him, long after Hawk had lost his own.
“Andrew seems like a good sort.”
“The best.”
“You miss him.”
“I do. He’s a good guy. And he was good to work for. Honest. Solid. You don’t realize how rare that is until you don’t have it.”
“He sounds like a wonderful mentor.”
&nbs
p; “That he was. He’s also an ass kicker. You don’t get to be a part of his department without knowing your stuff and being on point. Always.”
“Then I’m forced to repeat my point. You miss him.”
Claudia’s assessment rubbed uncomfortably against him and he tried to shake it off. They’d had a good day—an emotional one, sure—but one that didn’t have room for idle hurts and ill-considered responses.
“How long has it been since you worked for him?” she asked.
“I left his team about three and a half years ago.”
“Have you considered going back?”
“The PI gig isn’t so bad. I make my own hours and I pick my own cases. And I still have my contacts. My network. Private investigation is still detective work.” Even if it wasn’t the same damn thing as catching a case, working it with a partner and closing it down as one more tick mark in the victory column against the scum of the world.
But he didn’t say those things. Instead, he kept his eyes on the main drag through town and navigated around a small road crew as they dug a hole through what had to be blazing hot asphalt in the middle of the afternoon.
“Now there’s a job I have respect for. I have to imagine very few days of the year provide perfect weather conditions, yet they take on the job. From brutal heat to bitter cold to spring storms that light up the sky. It’s impressive.”
“Hmm” was all the response he got. Or thought he was going to get until she added, “So’s your ability to change the subject.”
“My what?” She’d waited to drop that little bomb until he was at the main stop sign in town and he turned to face her. “That’s harsh.”
“And here I thought it was truthful.”
“It’s something you know nothing about.”
“Oh no? Enlighten me, then. Because you keep suggesting there’s something between us. And I’m hardly arguing with you because I feel it, too. Yet you refuse to answer some of the most basic questions.”
“We haven’t known each other that long.”
“I might be persuaded to buy that, except you’re one of a handful of people, three of whom are medical professionals, who know I likely have a different mother than the one who raised me. This—” she waved a hand between them “—whatever’s going on between us. It doesn’t play by the rules because there are no rules. So stop tossing them at me as an excuse to keep me in the dark.”
