Colton's Lethal Reunion

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  So, yeah, she was still in love with Rafe Colton. Admitting that was the first step in getting over it. Every time she thought about lying in bed the night before, crying, it scared her. That wasn’t her. And she wasn’t going to lose herself now.

  So, thinking, she left the station to conduct her morning interview. She’d spoken with Joanne Bates, a cleaner who’d been at Colton Oil when Payne was shot. On the night of the shooting, the woman had been so rattled she’d been barely coherent. Kerry had given her a couple of days to calm down and process and was heading out to reinterview. She had chosen to interview the woman in her own home, in the hopes that she’d be more comfortable and might remember more of that night.

  On her way, she passed Colton Oil. She did not drive out of her way. She did, however, look over to see if Rafe’s truck was parked in what she knew now to be his reserved spot.

  It was. Thank God. Relief felt good.

  And it was quickly followed by more negativity. Since he hadn’t called her, either he’d failed to look in the trunk or hadn’t bothered to let her know what he’d found. Either way, she had to calm down. Focus on her job, not on him. So he’d chosen not to make letting her know a priority. He had other things on his mind, as well.

  The cases they were working together were her whole life. They were only a by-product of his.

  He knew everyone she worked with. Had been to her office and slept in her home. He’d infiltrated her entire world, while he had a full life as CFO of Colton Oil, a whole sphere of friends and business peers with whom to associate, none of whom she even knew. A separate life.

  She’d never even seen his home. And the only reason she’d been inside Colton Oil was to visit the crime scene in Payne’s office. She was almost a paid employee who’d been assigned to a job.

  The help.

  The reminder was pertinent. Timely.

  She’d just been thrown for a loop the night before with his confession. It had done her heart a world of good to know that he hadn’t just abandoned her because Payne told him to, but that he’d loved her enough to put her and her family first.

  But that confession had been deadly, too. First, it had opened up her heart to him—let the love and longing she’d felt all those years out of the box she’d shoved them in.

  And it had shown her the truth of their current situation. The boy who’d been forced to let her go had done just that. He’d let her go. She didn’t blame him, was pretty sure that he’d never have chosen to move on. He’d done what he had to do to survive.

  While she’d held on to their love and kept it a part of her, he’d grown past it into someone else.

  It was done.

  And hopefully now she could be, too. With a little time.

  Joanne Bates, a forty-two-year-old divorcée, lived in a small, two-bedroom home in a quiet neighborhood with similar homes. They were clean, stucco look-alikes with two-car garages and front landscaping. The roads were clear of parked cars and potholes.

  She opened her door before Kerry was close enough to knock.

  “Come in, Detective,” she said, her smile kind and her lips a bit tremulous. “I was just finishing the dishes. My kids are grown, but came over for breakfast,” she said, leading the way into a small, square living room with matching blue couch and love seat. “They’re worried about me.”

  Kerry waited until the woman sat on one end of the couch, and then took the other. Joanne’s short blond hair seemed to bob as she spoke, as though she was hearing a beat in her head. She could have been nervously hiding something, but Kerry didn’t think so. The woman was truly traumatized.

  Which meant she’d probably witnessed more than she knew.

  Kerry asked her about her kids, first, distracting her from what she feared. And then a little bit about her job at Colton Oil, to put the woman on the scene before delving into the bad stuff.

  “I’ve been there over five years,” she said. “I was a stay-at-home mom, and when my husband left... I didn’t have many marketable skills. The Coltons have been really good to me. When my kids were home I could work my hours around their schedule. They offer benefits and I’m making more than I would waitressing or working a retail job.”

  “So tell me what you remember of that night,” she said, leaning toward the woman, speaking softly. Letting her know she wasn’t alone in dealing with the horror. That people cared and were working to solve the problem.

  At first Joanne reiterated what she’d said the night of the shooting. She’d heard a gunshot, then footsteps and a stairwell door banging against the wall. She’d run toward the sound of the gunshot and found Payne on his back on the floor of his office.

  The rocking grew worse and tears flooded her eyes as she mentioned the body. She’d never witnessed a gunshot wound firsthand and the sight of it had disarmed her, for sure. Moving closer, Kerry rubbed her back, hating that she had to ask Joanne to relive something that was clearly upsetting to her, but she had to find out who had wanted Payne dead.

  “Is there anything else, anything that you might have remembered in the past couple of days, as you work through it all?” she asked, gently, while Joanne was still deeply inside the trauma.

  “I can’t be sure...”

  “It’s okay,” Kerry told her, a tiny fissure of hope opening inside her. “Anything at all. You might not think it could help, but...”

  “My vacuum is running and I might just be imagining it...but I don’t think I am.” She glanced at Kerry, hazel eyes wide. “I keep hearing a man’s voice, saying one word—Mom—and then the f word, right before the shot,” she said. “But how could I have heard talking over the vacuum?”

  Trying not to show her excitement, to lead the witness or in any way affect the testimony, she said,

  “If someone was yelling, you could have.”

  The woman nodded, her brow clearing a bit. “I’m not sure, which is why I didn’t call you, and I didn’t even think of it that night... I just kept seeing poor Mr. Colton lying there, and all that blood...” She shuddered, and Kerry, with her hand around the woman’s back, gave Joanne’s shoulder a hug.

  “This is good,” she said. “Really good.” And then: “You’re sure it was a man’s voice?”

  “Yeah. It was definitely male. I knew Mr. Colton was in his office, but last I knew he was alone. I think I probably was struck by the fact that someone else was with him, but before I could even process it, I heard the shot and then...”

  “I know,” Kerry said.

  Shaking her head, Joanne covered her ears with both hands. “I just keep hearing that one word, over and over,” she said. “Mom. It makes no sense to me.”

  Mom? Payne had married his second wife after Tessa had died from cancer. Ace could have been carrying resentment from that all his life, and then to have his father suddenly disown him? Definitely more motive. It could be that with Ace’s parentage in question, Tessa’s other two children would go after their father as well, for the same reason. So Grayson and Ainsley just made it to her suspect list. Except, wait, not Ainsley. The Colton Oil attorney was female. Joanne said the voice was male. But she was definitely going to look into Grayson.

  “Did you recognize the voice?” Kerry asked, getting that excited feel she got when she was on to something. Joanne had worked at Colton Oil five years. She’d have heard Ace’s voice—a man who’d just found out his mother wasn’t his mother, and then lost his job because of it.

  “No.” Joanne seemed certain about that. “I wish I did. It seems like it would all make more sense if I did. You know, like I wasn’t just imagining things...”

  “Trust yourself, Joanne,” Kerry said, the words just coming to her as she said them. “Don’t let this take away your inner strength. You were great that night. You heard something, and you ran immediately to help. Think about that. About how strong you were. And the rest, it’s coming to you be
cause it’s important.”

  Joanne looked up, gave her a tremulous smile. Nodded.

  “You’ve got my number,” Kerry told her, standing. “You call me anytime, day or night, if you think of anything else,” she said.

  And as she walked out to her Jeep, she felt good. Better than she had in a while. Sometimes you teach what you most need to learn. Like Joanne, she did what she had to do. She had an inner strength that guided her and she just had to trust it.

  That inner voice had led her to law enforcement and there was no doubt in her mind that she was doing what she was meant to do.

  She might be “the help,” but “the help” was what she wanted to be. She belonged in the trenches, living every moment to make the world a better place. A safer place.

  * * *

  Kerry pulled into the Colton Oil parking lot exactly at noon. She still hadn’t heard from Rafe, but wasn’t as hurt by that as she’d been before her visit with Joanne. Rafe was an incredibly busy man.

  She was glad to have reconnected with him and to have the chance to put the past to rest. Glad to know that he’d turned out to be a decent guy. And was now going to focus on healing herself. Letting go. Living free of him.

  They’d said she’d pick him up at noon and at exactly that, he came walking across the parking lot.

  In jeans and cowboy boots this time, fancy, shiny-looking ones, not worn like the ones she had on. He climbed into the Jeep and for a second there it looked like he meant to lean over and kiss her. For a second there, she started to lean in to kiss him back.

  She grabbed the bag on the console beside her instead. “I stopped at the convenience store and got a couple of ham and lettuce sandwiches,” she said, grabbing one out and opening the cellophane container. “They were just made this morning. Help yourself.”

  “I just ate,” he told her. “We had a client in and catered lunch...”

  Of course he’d eaten. And nothing plebeian like a lunch meat sandwich.

  “I’ve got some bad news,” he told her as she was pulling out of the lot, and she braced herself.

  So when he told her that he’d found the ob-gyn who’d delivered Ace, but that the man was incapable of giving them any information at all, she almost broke out in a smile. Almost. Because she was still in the adjustment stage of getting over him. Still, it was good to know that he wasn’t ditching her. Yet.

  “It was a long shot,” she told him, “but thanks for checking.” And then, “Do you have time to make a stop before we head up the mountain?” she added, forcing herself to keep her mind on business. Not on cataloging every aspect of Rafe in her vehicle, storing up memories for the new future she was building for herself.

  “I’m yours for the rest of the day,” he said, and her stomach tumbled an immediate response. Or her heart did.

  “What’s up?” He’d reached for the second sandwich. Was already taking a bite. She took another bite of hers, too, thinking it suddenly tasted better.

  “I did some checking this morning. The black car that met with Odin Rogers...it came back as having been totaled. And the vehicle you described coming after you last night—there hasn’t been a sign of it, not on any security cameras in town or in Mountain Valley, either. So I’m thinking, maybe Rogers has access to a junkyard, and has his guys take vehicles from there. It’s smart, really. No way to trace them, and if they do come up on a database, like the black one did, it’s a dead end. No owner to question. I’d like to take a run out to the junkyard just to take a look. To see if my theory is even possible. And if we get really lucky, maybe we’ll find last night’s vehicle. Maybe not. But I wanted you with me because you’re the only one who could identify it if it’s there. At the very least we can get some pictures of what vehicles are there and see if any of them disappear. Or show up behind us...”

  He was grinning at her. And her insides belly flopped again.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re impressive,” he told her. “And... I’m sure this is going to sound crazy, considering the fact that I was run off the road and shot at last night...but I’m enjoying this. Working with you.”

  She nodded. Smiled.

  Turned a corner.

  And reminded herself that he was a rich dude on a week-long onetime thrill ride, like guys who took dude ranch vacations. He wasn’t signing on for life.

  Chapter 20

  “I do have some good news.” Rafe was feeling better than he had all morning. About himself. About life. The ham sandwich was a decent stand-in for the dessert he’d missed in order to be ready to meet Kerry. They had a whole day together ahead of them. And he’d heard from Jason.

  “What’s that?” She drove, chewed and looked so beautiful he could hardly swallow for a second. Her hair was pulled back again, but he’d had those silky auburn tresses tangled around his arms just hours before.

  “I heard from my private detective,” he told her, glad he’d had good news to top the bad. Glad that he’d opted to wait to call her about Dr. Hansen until he’d heard from the PI, just in case. The stars were aligning. “Odin Rogers legally changed his name,” he said, quite pleased with his information, because he knew she would be. “He’s the one who named himself after a Norse god. Until he was eighteen, he was Burt Rogers.”

  “The Big B!” Kerry swerved for a brief second as she glanced at him, but quickly righted the vehicle. “Oh my God, Rafe. You know what this means...” Dropping the last couple of bites of her sandwich in the cellophane, she tossed it back into the bag.

  “It means that you’re probably right. That the only thing Tyler feared was Odin Rogers.”

  “He knew too much,” she said. “Look what’s been happening to us and we’ve just been getting close.”

  “I’m guessing that Grant Alvin knew too much, too,” Rafe said, sobering completely as he thought about the man who’d died that week. He’d been a jerk, but that didn’t mean he deserved to die.

  The thought served to remind him that as good as he felt, being with Kerry, they weren’t playing a game. Lives were at stake: his and hers.

  * * *

  They took a lot of pictures at the junkyard. But saw no sign of the vehicle that had driven him off the road the night before. Kerry still got in a couple of them, opened glove boxes, consoles, looked under the seats, and then around bumpers. After about the fifth rusted trash heap, she stood up, keys dangling in her hand. A car ready to go at a moment’s notice.

  “If we turn this puppy on, I bet we’ll find a full tank of gas sitting in it,” she said, and started up the motor.

  Sure enough, the car sprang to life. She snapped a photo, turned the car off and suggested they get the hell out of there before someone came looking.

  Not unhappy to be leaving the symbol of life’s failures, Rafe hurried with her back to her Jeep. Wanting to take her hand and run, like they had as kids, trying to get away from something or another. He couldn’t remember what. But he bet Kerry would have.

  More and more, Rafe was seeing just how good she was at her job. And at other things, too. Like being a hardworking employee. A dedicated community member. And a loyal friend for life.

  Dare he hope that they’d find a way to stay in touch? To see each other now and then, as friends?

  Hell, with his money he could afford to stay with her in Tucson’s most luxurious resort every weekend.

  Or fly to Italy for an evening of authentic pasta.

  Or...

  His phone rang just as she was starting the Jeep. Marlowe.

  “I have to take this,” he said, uneasy as a Colton pierced his Kerry time.

  “Hey, I just got an email from Dee,” Colton Oil’s new CEO said, referring to Dee Walton, Payne’s administrative assistant, who was keeping the flow of the office going while Payne was in the hospital. “She says she belongs to some self-help organization here in town, the Affi
rmation Alliance Group. You ever hear of them?”

  “Nope.” But then he wasn’t into that kind of thing. Self-help, by the very nature of the word, meant you did it yourself, not as part of a group.

  “Apparently the founder, a Micheline Anderson, is pretty gifted at boosting morale. I guess she travels to various corporations and gives talks, including grief and healing workshops. She did wonders for the grief group Dee joined after her husband died last year. Anyway, she thinks it might be a good idea to bring Ms. Anderson in to give a talk to Colton Oil employees, you know, just to ease some of the tension from Dad’s shooting. Especially since the guy is still out there. And help everyone to adjust to Ace’s leaving and to me taking over the helm. It’s a ton of traumatic change in such a short time...”

  “You know I don’t go for that kind of stuff, but if you think our employees would benefit...the funds to hire her won’t be a problem, obviously. I’d make attendance on a volunteer basis only for employees, though...if you really think it’s necessary.” Because he did not.

  But Rafe had discovered long ago that he wasn’t like most people. While others seemed to take things to heart, to be emotionally stumped for a time when tragedy struck, he was more apt to take things on the chin and go about his business. It was a trait Payne admired in him.

  One the Colton siblings counted on.

  Something he’d always considered one of his gifts...

  Kerry took a turn, and then another, going a good ten miles over the speed limit as she turned onto the road leading out of town to Mustang Mountain. Her chin was tight. Her knuckles on the steering wheel white, as she listened to Colton business.

  “I think I’ll back-burner it for now,” Marlowe was saying. “Dee says that Micheline will come if asked, but no worries, either way. I like that she’s being proactive,” Marlowe added, opening up another chain of conversation.