The Colton Marine

by Lisa Childs

  Thorne and Mac exchanged a glance. Did they have some idea what he’d been looking for?

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Thorne shrugged now. “I think you’re the reason he wanted to work here, Edith. He cares about you.”

  “That’s why he’s asked us to check on you so much,” Uncle Mac said. “And even if you wouldn’t call the sheriff on him, he wouldn’t be able to check on you himself now.”

  Her heartbeat paused for a moment before resuming at a faster rate. “Why not?”

  Had something happened to him?

  Had he not fully recovered from his concussion?

  “Leonor’s fiancé, Josh Howard, is starting a security business in Austin,” Thorne said. “He’d offered River a job a while ago, but he’d turned him down then.”

  He had mentioned the job to her, but he hadn’t seemed all that interested in taking it. She’d wondered why then.

  So she asked them now, “Why?” River was so strong and smart; he would make an excellent security guard.

  “Because he was working for you,” Thorne said. “Now that you fired him, he accepted the job.”

  “He’s moving to Austin?” Was he doing that just for the job or to get away from his family’s pity or from her?

  She remembered that along with the guilt, he had also looked hurt—that she would think he was just after money. But if not that, what?

  “His assignments could bring him anywhere, though,” Uncle Mac added. He glanced around the kitchen. “Maybe even back here.”

  She furrowed her brow in confusion. “How?”

  “Since he’s so worried about your safety here at La Bonne Vie, maybe you should be his first client.”

  “You think I should hire River to be my bodyguard?” She chuckled, although it sounded hollow even to her. But then, she felt hollow, as well. The emptiness inside her had only been filled one night—by River.

  Ignoring their nods, she gestured around the quiet kitchen. “I don’t need a bodyguard. Surely, you two realize that now. Every time you’ve showed up to check on me, there’s been nothing happening around here. No noises. No shadows in the dark...”

  Maybe all that had been River. Because since he’d left, nothing had happened that had unsettled Edith. But since he’d left, there were also no kisses. No caresses.

  Father and son exchanged another glance. This one she easily interpreted. They agreed with her.

  “You two have a ranch to run,” she reminded them. Then she turned toward her cousin. “And you have a baby on the way. You should be sticking close to your wife.”

  Thorne’s eyes filled with love and affection for his bride.

  “She needs you,” Edith said. “I don’t. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it a long time.”

  Mac’s eyes darkened for a moment with regret. And she felt bad for making him feel guilt. So she hugged him. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m stronger and more independent because of it.”

  She didn’t need a man. Any man. She could take care of herself.

  Mac hugged her back before pulling away. “She’s right,” he told his son. “She can take care of herself.”

  “Tell River...” She trailed off as she thought of all the things she wanted to tell him. But when she’d fired him, she’d said everything.

  Goodbye.

  They must have just assumed she wanted them to tell River she could take care of herself because they nodded as if they would. Then they headed out the door toward their trucks. The engines rumbled as they started them and drove away.

  They could have only been gone a few moments when she heard another sound. It was the clanging of something metallic and then the scraping noise. Now she knew what that sound was: someone going in and out of those secret rooms.

  Someone was downstairs.

  River?

  Had he come back to search the basement one more time before he moved to Austin? Her pulse quickened with anger and, if she were being honest, excitement at the thought of seeing him.

  She had missed him so much. Even as angry as she was with him, she wanted to see him. But she was no fool. Just in case it wasn’t him, she grabbed her canister of pepper spray. Then she headed downstairs to investigate.

  No. She didn’t need a bodyguard or any man at all. But she wanted one.

  She wanted River.

  * * *

  Where the hell was she?

  Declan hadn’t told her he was coming. But he’d expected her to be at the house. Hell, her car was parked outside by that fountain where moments before two trucks had been parked, as well. He’d waited for them to leave before he’d driven through the gates.

  He had expected to see River Colton driving one of those trucks. He’d almost wanted to see the man in person—instead of just on the front page of the Everything’s Blogger website. But Thorne had driven one and Joseph “Mac” Mackenzie the other. He’d recognized them from the blog, as well, and from the photographs Edith had of them.

  He couldn’t be angry with her over allowing her uncle and her cousin in the house. They were her family. At least she had some.

  He didn’t anymore, thanks to Livia Colton.

  Except for Edith. He considered her family. She was like his little sister.

  That was why he had showed up early for his visit—because he was worried about her. River Colton had gotten to her, no matter how much she might deny it.

  And maybe La Bonne Vie had gotten to her, as well.

  Declan shouldn’t have let her fire the security guard. It wasn’t safe for her to work alone. She’d been hurt there. There had been reports of an intruder.

  “Edith?” he called out. His voice echoed hollowly in the empty house, bouncing off the marble floors and high plaster ceilings of the foyer.

  He looked at the elegant staircase where so many photographs of Livia Colton had been taken as she’d stood above her guests, looking down on all of them like they were her minions.

  So many men had been. Mindless fools she’d manipulated to do her bidding. Who was she manipulating now that she was able to continue to elude the authorities? Would she never serve out her sentence?

  Anger coursed through Declan, as it did every time he let himself think of her and the injustice of it all. But along with the anger, he had fear. Not of Livia.

  He was no longer the seven-year-old kid whose life she had selfishly destroyed. She couldn’t hurt him anymore. But she could hurt someone else—the only other person he cared about.

  “Edith?” he shouted again as he walked through the house and headed into the kitchen that smelled of the pizza sitting on the table nearly untouched. Pulling his cell from the pocket of his suit coat, he clicked her contact information.

  Something vibrated along the kitchen countertop near where he stood. Her cell phone sat next to her purse on the stainless steel counter.

  And her car was in the drive.

  She was here. But where?

  What the hell had happened to her?

  Chapter 22

  “You’re still here?”

  River looked up from the duffel bag he was packing. Mac leaned against the doorjamb of the stairwell leading down to the stables below. “Are you anxious to get rid of me?” he asked the older man. “Have I overstayed my welcome?”

  “Never,” Mac assured him. “You just took this job so quickly that I thought you were anxious to start it.”

  He shook his head. “Josh doesn’t even have the company completely up and running yet.”

  “Then what’s your hurry to leave?”

  River sighed. “Because I have no reason to stay.” Not with Edith being unable to forgive him.

  Mac turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, then he backed into the room as
a tall man stepped through the doorway behind him. He glanced back at River. “A friend of yours?”

  River furrowed his brow with confusion as he tried to recognize the man. “No...”

  “Can we help you?” Mac asked the stranger.

  “I have some questions regarding Edith Beaulieu.”

  A pang struck River’s heart as he recognized the deep voice. “You’re her boss,” he murmured. But they were more than that to each other; they’d both admitted it. River studied him and realized most women would find him attractive. He was tall and broad-shouldered with dark brown hair and green eyes. He looked vaguely familiar to River, like someone he used to know...

  The guy stared at him, as well. Since he’d been disfigured, River was used to people staring. But something about this guy’s scrutiny bothered him. It was like he was being assessed and found wanting.

  “What’s your name?” River asked the stranger.

  Since the guy was so hell-bent on remaining anonymous, River didn’t actually expect him to answer. But he did. “Declan Sinclair.”

  Mac gasped as if he recognized the name.

  The name and the man meant nothing to River.

  “What are you doing here?” River asked him. “Edith already fired me—just like you told her to.”

  “You had no business being in La Bonne Vie to begin with,” Declan told him.

  “And you have no business here,” River said.

  Mac glanced back and forth between the two of them as if they were two dogs circling each other to fight and he was worried he would get caught—and bitten—in the middle.

  “Edith is my business,” Declan replied.

  “If you came by to warn me to stay away from her, you’re wasting your time.” River gestured at his packed duffel bag. “I’m already leaving town.”

  Declan nodded as if he approved. But his jaw remained clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek. He had something else to say, obviously, but it appeared stuck in his throat.

  Obviously uncomfortable, Mac moved around Sinclair and headed toward the stairwell. “I’ll leave you two alone for now...”

  But Declan reached out and caught his arm. Maybe he didn’t want to be alone with River.

  River wasn’t particularly eager to be alone with him, either. He wasn’t afraid of him. Despite the guy’s size, he could take him apart—if he wanted. Once a Marine, always a Marine. He hadn’t forgotten anything the Corps had taught him.

  “When did you see Edith last?” Declan asked Mac.

  “Just a little while ago,” he replied. “My son and I brought her lunch.”

  Declan nodded like Mac had passed some quiz. Then he turned away from him, as if dismissing the older man from his own property. Mac shrugged before heading off down the stairs.

  But tension filled River and it wasn’t just because he was now alone with the vaguely familiar-looking stranger. “Why are you asking about Edith? Haven’t you seen her yet?”

  Declan shook his head.

  And a chill chased down River’s back. Even though he doubted it, he asked the question. “You came here before going to La Bonne Vie?”

  That muscle twitched again before Sinclair answered. “No.”

  “You haven’t seen her?”

  “I couldn’t find her,” he admitted. “Her car is in the driveway. Her purse and her phone are on the kitchen counter, but she’s nowhere to be found.”

  River’s gut clenched as fear overwhelmed him. But he shook his head, refusing to jump to the worst conclusion. “She could have gone for a run,” he suggested. “You know how she does that to relieve stress.”

  Declan nodded. “Yeah, yeah...” But then he shook his head. “She always takes her phone, though. She uses the running app on it to keep track of her time and distance.”

  River knew that, as well. He headed toward the door, shoving past Declan, who slightly blocked his way.

  “Where the hell are you going?”

  “To La Bonne Vie,” River said. “And you can call the damn sheriff if you want, but I’m looking for Edith.”

  “Good,” Declan said. And it was clear the next admission nearly killed him, but he confessed, “I need your help.”

  He doubted Declan Sinclair had ever needed anyone or anything.

  But Edith did.

  If she was missing, something had happened to her. She must be in one of those damn secret rooms. River could find her. He only hoped he wouldn’t be too late to help her.

  * * *

  Edith had let another Colton make a fool of her. She’d gone downstairs to investigate, half hoping she would find River looking for whatever the hell he’d been looking for. She hadn’t found River, though.

  She’d found a woman instead. The blonde had to be in her early fifties, but she looked younger. And maybe that was why Edith had hesitated before using the pepper spray. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been able to believe, despite all the pictures she’d seen of her, that this was Livia Colton. Wouldn’t she be older? Wouldn’t she look mean or dangerous?

  Instead she’d smiled warmly. “Edith Beaulieu,” she’d said as if she’d been anticipating her arrival. “Mac’s little niece grew into a gorgeous young woman.”

  Maybe the compliment had disarmed Edith. Moments later so had Livia, as she’d swung the handle of a gun. First she’d knocked the canister of pepper spray from Edith’s hand. Then she’d knocked her to the ground with a blow to the head.

  Edith awakened, she wasn’t certain how much later, her head pounding. She was sitting up instead of lying on the concrete where she’d fallen. But when she tried to move, she couldn’t. Her arms and legs were bound to the chair in which she sat, a rope wound tightly around her torso, as well—so tightly that she could barely draw a breath.

  “Your head must be getting harder,” Livia remarked from where she stood next to a control panel of sorts. There were speakers and monitors that displayed rooms in the rest of the house. This must have been where she’d been hiding—the security room. Or a panic room?

  Edith was the one panicking, though. She was at the mercy of a woman legendary for being merciless.

  “You weren’t out nearly as long as the night I knocked those racks over on you,” Livia said.

  “That was you.”

  Livia nodded. “Of course. Who else did you think it was?” Her perfect nose wrinkled with disgust. “A mouse?”

  “Why did you try to hurt me?” Edith asked.

  “I wasn’t sure what you saw that first night,” Livia said. “I was at the bottom of the stairs when you opened the basement door.”

  Edith shivered as she remembered those eyes glinting in the darkness. She’d convinced herself they’d belonged to an animal. But, given all the horrendous things Livia Colton had done in her life, she was an animal.

  “I didn’t see you,” Edith said. At least not well enough to identify what or whom she’d seen.

  Livia shrugged, her slender shoulders moving just slightly beneath the silk blouse she wore. For a fugitive, she looked remarkably elegant and rested. “I don’t like taking chances.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing, coming back here?” Edith pointed out.

  Livia sighed as if bored with Edith’s questions. “There are some chances worth taking.”

  Was River? Had sleeping with him, falling for him, had he been a chance worth taking? Edith was afraid that she might never have the opportunity to find out—that she might not survive this encounter with Livia Colton.

  “Was he helping you?”

  “He?” Livia asked as she arched a blond brow.

  “River.”

  For someone who looked so much the lady, with not a dark root showing or blond hair out of place, Livia uttered a surprisingly unladylike snort. “River? That
Boy Scout? You think he would actually help me?” Her beautiful face twisted into an ugly mask of bitterness. “You think any of my ungrateful children would help me? If any of them had known I was here, they would have turned me in to the authorities immediately.”

  Her flawless skin flushed with anger. “I gave them everything money could buy. I made sacrifices to provide a beautiful home for them, a beautiful life...and I got nothing in return from them but disappointment.”

  Edith shivered. She saw now that Livia was a threat to everyone.

  Most especially Edith. She doubted the woman intended to let her go. Now Livia knew for certain that Edith had seen her.

  “All a child really wants is love,” Edith said, knowing that was all she’d wanted from her mother—her love and attention.

  Livia looked disgusted. “I thought you were a tough, practical woman.” She shook her head. “You’ve disappointed me as well, Edith Beaulieu.” From that table with all the monitors, she picked up the gun.

  Edith could only hope she’d strike her with it again. Instead Livia cocked the trigger.

  “How?” Edith hastened to ask, stalling for time. Not that time would help her any. “How did I disappoint you?”

  “You think people need love,” she said as if she were using another kind of four-letter word.

  But then, Edith had always believed it was a curse, as well—to love someone. She shook her head. “Not people, not adults,” she said. But she heard the lie in her voice. “Adults know that love isn’t real.”

  It was real. The love her parents had shared had been so real. Would River have loved Edith like that had she stopped pushing him away? It didn’t matter that she had, though. She’d fallen for him, anyway.

  Livia sighed and shook her head. There was no fooling her. “You can stall all you want, Edith. But River isn’t going to rush to your rescue like he did all those times before.” She gestured toward the speakers on the command table. “I heard your uncle tell you that he was gone. Moving to Austin...” She looked relieved.

  While she obviously didn’t love her children, maybe she hadn’t actually wanted to kill him.

  “Did you hit him?” Edith asked, wondering if Livia had hurt him. “With the crowbar?”