The Missing Colton

by Loreth Anne White

  They all looked up sharply as he entered. He scrutinized their faces for signs that Mia had already revealed his true identity to them. But all he detected was worry and fatigue. Trevor stood up and pulled out a chair for Jagger.

  “Morning,” he said, and there was a respect in Trevor’s voice as his eyes met Jagger’s. “We have a lot to thank you for, Cole. There’s coffee and tea and breakfast on the buffet.”

  Jagger poured a coffee and joined them at the table, anxiety eating at him. He had to find Mia.

  As he seated himself, Amanda said, “We were just saying that you saved Cheyenne from your own fate,” her voice was soft, the look in her eyes vulnerable this morning.

  Jagger snorted softly. “Ironic.”

  “It is,” Trevor said.

  “How’s Jethro doing?” said Jagger, taking a sip of coffee.

  “He’s still unconscious,” Gabby answered. Her voice was tired, her eyes glassy with emotion. “The specialist and Levi are still with him.” Her voice caught. “It’s not looking good.”

  Amanda reached out and placed her hand over Jagger’s. Her skin was cool. “Thank you, again,” she said quietly. “For what you and Mia did last night. You saved my baby—I cannot begin to tell you what that means.”

  Jagger fell silent. He wanted to come clean with them right now. He was in no mood to be called a hero. Right now he felt more like a coward in hiding.

  Mia’s words sifted into his mind.

  ...he was a coward. Brad Maclean was a yellow-bellied bastard who was terrified of commitment and didn’t have the guts to look me in the eye and tell me the truth....

  He was no better than Brad Maclean. Jagger’s heart sank even deeper as he realized he was never going to stand a chance with Mia Sanders now. She was going to see in him the things she’d said she hated in men—a risk-seeking adrenaline junkie who hadn’t looked her straight in the eyes and told her the truth.

  He was no hero. He was a fake.

  “Thanks for handling the Dead P.D. before I got back,” Trevor was saying. “I should never have left the ranch. Whoever tried to abduct Cheyenne had to have been watching—he knew when to take the kid. I made a mistake— I hadn’t realized we were so vulnerable. I thought Tom Brooks was up to the job.”

  “He was,” Amanda countered. “He’s devastated by what happened—it could have happened to anyone.”

  “Did the police end up finding anything?” Jagger said.

  “They got some footprints in the dirt outside the window below the fire escape ladder.” Trevor took a bite of the croissant on his plate. “They’ll be looking again at first light and bringing a tracking dog out.”

  “We shouldn’t have gone to Laramie,” Gabby said, hanging her head down. “We should have all stayed on the ranch. Dad might not have gone into the coma, Cheyenne might not have been attacked. I feel so damn guilty.” She put her face into her hands.

  “We have to live our lives, too, Gabby,” Amanda said, gently, reaching for her sister’s hand. “You’re getting married—please don’t think of putting that on hold, not for a moment. It’s something precious that we can all hold on to at this time.” As she spoke, the phone on the sideboard rang.

  Trevor got up to answer it.

  “Yes, he is,” he said glancing up at Jagger. “I’ll let him know.”

  Replacing the receiver Trevor said, “That was Chief Drucker. They’re coming in early to do the DNA sampling. He and his tech should be here and waiting in the infirmary within the hour.”

  Trevor returned to the table and reseated himself. “The good news, and Lord knows we need some around here right now, is that the laboratory has set time aside and will be waiting on the sample. They’ll rush the analysis and have results by the end of the day.”

  Tension kicked through Jagger.

  “Is Mia around?” he said. Before these people threw him off this ranch as a fraud, he had to see her again, talk to her. If anything, just to say sorry.

  A strange look was exchanged between Amanda and Gabby.

  “What is it?” Jagger said.

  “It’s rather unexpected,” Amanda answered. “But Mia Sanders has tendered her resignation. She’s taking the remainder of the sick days and vacation days owed to her, and she’s leaving Dead River Ranch.”

  Jagger’s spine snapped straight. “What?”

  “She resigned, early this morning,” Gabby said. “And who can blame her after what happened last night? Who can blame any of the staff for thinking of leaving after the murders and all the mischief that has taken place. As it is, Levi had basically taken over the infirmary from her.”

  Jagger’s heart pounded so loudly in his ears he could barely hear himself think.

  “When is she leaving?”

  “I think she’s gone already. She called for a rental at the crack of dawn and packed up the car right away.”

  Jagger set his mug down slowly, adrenaline surging through his system. He tried to swallow. “Where...where is she going?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  “Did she not leave a forwarding address?” he snapped.

  “She might have left one with Mathilda—”

  Jagger got abruptly to his feet. “Where will I find Mathilda?”

  Surprise rippled through their eyes. “She has a small office off the kitchen—” Amanda started saying, but Jagger was already on his way out, running down the passage toward the kitchen, his heart hammering in his chest.

  The small office was empty and the only people in the kitchen were Agnes, the head cook, and Liz, the redheaded assistant.

  “I don’t know where Mathilda is,” Agnes said when Jagger asked.

  “I think I saw her heading down past the stables earlier,” Liz offered.

  “Did Mia say where she was going when she left?”

  “No, sir, not to us she didn’t,” Agnes said.

  “She didn’t look right,” Liz offered. “Real pale and really upset by what had happened last night.”

  “Probably in shock, poor girl,” Agnes declared, wiping her hands on her apron. “Not every day you get to aim a gun at a masked kidnapper, now, is it?”

  But Jagger didn’t wait for Agnes to finish, either. He raced into the entrance hall and flung open the mansion’s front door. The blast of morning air that hit him was cold and clean.

  The sun was just breaking over the mountains, the dawn rays casting a soft golden glow over the valley and surrounding ranchlands. Mist rose in wisps from the fields. Jagger ran toward the stables, his breath coalescing into white clouds, but as he passed the ranch garage he caught sight of a bright red Chevy Impala parked outside—a vehicle that wasn’t there before.

  He stalled and went over to it. The car had a rental sticker on the bumper. It was packed full, with bags in the backseat.

  Mia.

  She hadn’t left yet.

  Jagger spun around as he scanned the surrounding area.

  He saw her coming from the stables with a clear purposeful stride, her legs long in slim-fitting denim and cowboy boots. She wore a down vest and her hair gleamed golden in the dawn light.

  His heart began to jackhammer in his chest.

  She caught sight of him and froze dead in her tracks, staring at him as if undecided whether to continue forward or turn back to the stables.

  But she resumed her stride, chin set in determination, her hands clenched at her sides.

  As she neared, Jagger saw that her complexion was wan, her eyes red-rimmed and a bright, fragile blue that contrasted with the color of her jacket. Tendrils of hair escaped her braid and hung soft and loose around her face, and she’d never looked more beautiful or desirable to him. He ached to hold her, just wrap her up tightly in his arms, never let go. It was such an acute desire his muscles hurt wit
h the need.

  “Mia.” His voice cracked.

  “Please, Jagger.” She paused, as if still having trouble with his real name on her tongue. “Don’t say anything. Don’t even try to explain. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “I have to talk to you Mia. I can’t let it end like this.”

  “But I can, Jagger. I need to. Please, just let me go.”

  “Mia...I love you.”

  His words went through her like a visible quiver of electricity. She swallowed and glanced at the packed-up Impala behind him. He was in Mia’s way, standing firmly between her and her vehicle.

  “Don’t do this, Mia. Don’t quit your job because of me, not without thinking this through. It’s rash—”

  “Jagger,” she said quietly, her gaze meeting his, clear and direct. “I had a lot of time to think through the night, and I’m not doing this lightly. It’s time for me to leave Dead River. I realized that by coming here, by cutting everyone out of my life that I used to care about so that I wouldn’t have to feel the shame of my humiliation— I was running. I was not facing up to my problems. I myself was being a coward. I’m going to stop running, Jagger. I’m going to go back to the coast to see my mother. Reconnect with some old friends.”

  Anxiety, desperation, tore through his chest. He could feel her slipping away through his fingers like grains of fine, golden sand.

  “And then?” His voice came out hoarse.

  “Then, I don’t know.”

  In the distance, over the field, Jagger saw the glint of a vehicle in the sun and a line of dust rising. Drucker. He was almost here.

  “Mia, will you wait, please, until after Drucker has been here, and let me explain...just talk.”

  “No way. I’m not going to be a part of this. I’m done with your Cole Colton ruse, and with the Dead P.D., and with this whole family and all its dramas. I’m getting on with my own life now.”

  It struck Jagger—she hadn’t exposed him to the family, and she had no intention of exposing him to the cops, either.

  “Why?” he asked quietly. “Why haven’t you told them who I am?”

  “You know why.”

  “Justice?” he said quietly. “You still want justice for Cole?”

  “You have a small window until that DNA hammer comes down tonight,” she said, pushing past him and beeping the lock on the Impala. She opened the driver’s door. “Use it well, Jagger. I hope you get out of it what you really need. I hope you find justice for Cole.”

  She swung her leg into the car.

  He lunged forward and grabbed her arm, hope flaring hot inside him. “Mia, look at me, listen to me— When Drucker and his man get here, I’m telling them that I’ve remembered who I am. I am not doing this story. I will not profit from the pain I caused you. It’s over.”

  She stilled, stared at him.

  The cop car was coming closer. Her gaze flashed toward it.

  “What about Cole?” she whispered. “What about the answers...about Desiree, Jackson, the baby she was seen with? Jethro hiding something?”

  “I’m ditching the story, Mia. I’m buying back those contracts. I’d already decided that yesterday, and I was going to tell you. Once I’d started falling for you I couldn’t go through with it anymore. I had to make a choice—the story, or a chance, a faint hope, that I could build something with you. I was about to tell you last night when we heard that scream.”

  Emotion tore sharp and fast across her face. She knew he was telling the truth, he could see it in her eyes.

  She shot another glance at the cop car coming down the avenue toward the house.

  He took her hands in his, and she seemed unable to pull away. “I’ve decided to stop running, too, Mia. And I’m not too male to say this—I haven’t loved anyone since I was nine years old when my life was torn apart. I was too scared. I’m still scared, but I’m ready to try...if you can ever see your way around forgiving me for this.” He paused. The police sedan was coming closer.

  “I never intended to betray you, Mia.”

  She swallowed, tears filling her eyes.

  He could hear the crunch of tires on gravel now, and his pulse started to race.

  She pulled away suddenly. “See? You’re doing it again. I’m letting you suck me in. Just like I let Brad suck me in with his promises and lies. Whatever it is that you’re working through, Jagger, and I know there’s a lot and that you have a long way to go, I need to make a choice of my own now. I need to silence the nurse inside me who thinks she can heal a broken alpha male with her love. That’s some sick subconscious fantasy I’ve had since childhood, God knows why. That’s what the therapist told me. So I’m doing it, finally. If this experience with you has taught me anything, it’s that I need to grow the balls to look after myself for a change, to turn away from what I know is wrong for me.”

  She paused, inhaling shakily as she squared her shoulders.

  “And Jagger, you’re the wrong kind of man for me.”

  “Mia, I’m not Brad. I’m not going to abandon you. I’m not your father.”

  “But you’re just like them, cut from the same cloth, wired to roam around the world in search of one adrenaline fix after another. Unable to settle in one place.”

  The police cruiser drew to a stop on the gravel. He heard doors open, bang shut. Footfalls crunching toward them. He saw her glance at the approaching men behind him.

  Desperation engulfed Jagger. He knew in his heart if he let her go now, she was gone from his life for good.

  “Mia,” he said quietly, urgently. “I might have been that man once, but I have changed.”

  “People don’t just change, not fundamentally like that.”

  “You, of all people, should know they do. War changed me. Being responsible for the death of a good man changed me. The fact I could have shot that small boy before he came inside our bunker and blew himself up changed me. It made me question everything I thought I knew to be true. And so did a head injury change me, and losing my fiancée to another man because it took so long for me to see what I was missing in life.”

  Her eyes met his. Conflict tore through her visibly.

  “Who would I be, Mia, if I couldn’t learn from all those things? Who would you be if you couldn’t learn from Brad’s rejection? But I can tell you one thing, running away from what I know exists between us is exactly that, running. You’re not going to be facing your real fears by going home. You can face them right here. And so can I. We can do this together. Baby steps.”

  Emotion sparkled in her eyes, and her nose pinked. She tried to swallow.

  “Cole Colton,” Drucker said from behind him. Jagger cursed and turned slowly to face the cop.

  “You ready for that blood test?”

  “Chief Drucker, there will be no—”

  “Yes,” Mia said suddenly, slamming the Impala door shut behind her. “We’re ready.” She started toward the house. “You can come through to the infirmary this way.”

  “What are you doing, Mia?” Jagger whispered urgently into her ear as he caught up to her.

  “You’re going to do this,” she hissed softly through a clenched jaw. “You’re going to buy whatever small amount of time you have left and find out what the hell is going down here. Because Drucker is up to something—if I could find out who you are, why hasn’t he? He’s hiding something and you need to figure out what he’s up to.”

  “And you’ll stay?”

  “Until the test is done. Then I have to go, Jagger. I have to go back home and start from there.”

  * * *

  Mia stood next to the Dead River police chief in the infirmary while his technician got ready to draw Jagger’s blood.

  Mrs. Black’s words curled again like mist through her mind.

  Nothing is as it
seems....

  Yeah, it sure as hell wasn’t.

  She watched Jagger and thought of his words. Mia had no doubt he was sincere. But even though she believed him, and she loved him, she also believed he was fundamentally wrong for her, that all those things he’d just said outside would be dust in the wind once he got strong again. Once the hunger inside him returned.

  I’ve changed, Mia.

  Conflict warred in her chest. She knew a head injury could profoundly alter personality. So could trauma. She smoothed her hand over her hair, perspiration breaking out over her skin. She was at a crossroads. She was being faced with a choice, too. But if she went down the wrong road again... She forced her attention back to what was happening in the infirmary.

  “Do you already have a blood sample from Mr. Colton to compare it for a possible paternal match?” Mia said as she watched the technician laying his phlebotomy tools out on a tray.

  “Yes,” Drucker answered gruffly. He’d moved closer to the door and was standing with his hands behind his back. His attention flickered to the window. Outside the morning was crisp and bright.

  “And did you get any hits from the fingerprints you took yet?” she asked.

  He shot her a cool look. “Before the night’s end we should have a full picture,” he said brusquely.

  Jagger caught her eyes.

  A full picture.

  Drucker knew who Jagger was, Mia was suddenly certain of it. So why was he going through with this paternity test? Did he still believe, perhaps, that Jagger McKnight could actually be Cole Colton?

  He’d been kidnapped the same year, was the same age...her eyes shot to Jagger. Was it remotely possible that the P.I. and cops back then had made a mistake when they’d found Jagger?

  The technician finished washing his hands and snapped on his gloves. “If you could sit on the chair by the table over here, please, sir.”

  “I think it would be better closer to the light,” Drucker countered. “Where we can all witness what’s being done.”

  Everyone glanced up at him and the technician raised a brow. “Well, we can move the chair over, if that’s what you want.”