Colby Roundup: Colby RoundupColby Agency Companion Guide

by Debra Webb

  Well, there was that. Russ had one ace up his sleeve. “I have something for you that may facilitate your investigation. If you’re willing to give me a few minutes of your time, we can—”

  Her eyebrows raised in blatant speculation. “I did an internet search of your agency before driving out of the prison parking lot. I wouldn’t have thought an investigator from such an esteemed agency would carry around blackmail in his bag of tricks. If you had something of interest you surely would have said that up front. We’re done here, Mr. St. James.”

  “Ms. Westfield,” Russ said, reaching for patience, “I’m not the enemy. Mr. Barker sought out my agency to protect you. I would be remiss if I didn’t at least attempt to satisfy his request.”

  “Fine. Let’s not waste more time. What is it you have that you believe will interest me?”

  Nothing like getting straight to the point. “I have a photo album from…” How did he explain? “From your early childhood. There are newspaper clippings related to the Barkers’ arrest and trial, as well.”

  A car rolled up, drawing their attention to the road behind her sedan. Russ tensed. Gray in color. Four doors. Two occupants in the front seat. One male, one female. The driver’s-side window powered down. Russ’s right hand went instinctively to the small of his back where his weapon rested. Clare and her accomplice, Weeden, could be watching Olivia the same as he was.

  The driver, the male, poked his head out. Not Weeden. “You folks need any assistance?”

  “We’re fine. Thank you.” Olivia moved toward her sedan. “I must have hit a slick spot in the road.”

  The man nodded, powered his window back up and drove around, using the shoulder of the road to avoid her front bumper.

  Olivia glanced back at Russ. “Follow me.”

  Before he could ask where to she climbed back into her car and started the engine. Russ did the same. Just his luck. Ms. Westfield was going to make his job even more difficult than he’d anticipated. All he had to do was stay one step ahead of her excuses for not needing him.

  Five seconds later they were exceeding the speed limit and heading to her destination of choice.

  Chapter Three

  Bay Point, 3:55 p.m.

  Victoria Colby-Camp considered the curtains in her new living room. The small beach cottage half an hour from Houston had been a whirlwind weekend purchase. On Saturday, she’d left Lucas resting in the Beaumont hospital and viewed the cottage her Realtor had called about. She and Lucas had leased a condo several months ago and had been happy there while they searched for a permanent home in the Houston area.

  The timing of the call from her Realtor had been perfect. Since Christmas last year she and Lucas had been waffling about the decision to retire completely. This investigation had made up Victoria’s mind for her. Lucas had almost lost his life just three days ago. She would not allow that to happen again. It was time they moved on and focused forward.

  The main Colby Agency offices in Chicago were in good hands with her son Jim and Ian Michaels, a long time second in command for Victoria. Simon Ruhl, another of her seconds in command, had relocated his wife and children to Houston and had the Texas office well underway. It was no longer necessary for her or for Lucas to be involved with the daily operations. They had often talked about taking a winter home. Actually, the plan was to spend as much time at one as the other, depending on the weather and circumstances with the grandchildren.

  Victoria smiled as she thought of her grandchildren spending weeks on end with her and Lucas here on the beach. This choice was the perfect balance. Once she had seen this lovely cottage, she had returned to the hospital in Beaumont with pictures for Lucas. He had agreed that it was the perfect second home. The transaction had been a simple matter at that point.

  Since the cottage was furnished there was no reason not to move in immediately. She’d brought Lucas here this morning upon his release from the hospital. Victoria wandered over to the French doors that overlooked the terrace. She smiled as she watched her husband flip through the morning paper. He looked right at home lounging in that comfortable chaise. The bandage on his forehead would be gone soon. He would be wearing the walking cast for several more weeks. The sling for his arm wouldn’t be necessary for quite so long. Thankfully his shoulder would heal without surgery. She felt certain that good fortune was wholly related to how very physically fit he remained when most men his age fell victim to sedentary work and activities. Not Lucas. He was strong and healthy. Despite the loss of his left leg during that awful war so many years ago, he had never allowed the awkwardness of a prosthesis to keep him from a fitness regimen. She wanted him to stay that way so they could enjoy their golden years together and with their growing family. Now that Slade, Lucas’s son, and Maggie were married and had their precious baby girl, they would be visiting, as well. Slade would enjoy the quiet solitude here. His life had been challenging until now.

  Beyond the patio and a small landscaped patch of lawn, the dazzling water lapped at the sandy shore only yards from their back door. Yes, she decided, they would be happy here. Victoria turned around in the spacious room. She adored the open floor plan. There was some redecorating to do. The furnishings weren’t precisely suited to her and Lucas’s taste, but that would be easily remedied in time. Those decisions could wait until they could shop together.

  The sound of her cell chiming disrupted her leisurely daydreaming. Her heart stumbled into an awkward gallop. Though she knew Joel Hayden was well on his way to a complete recovery and safe with Laney Seagers and her son, Buddy, worry tugged at her. Sadie Gilmore and Lyle McCaleb were safe and making wedding plans. But Olivia Westfield remained in a place that was far too precarious. Simon had relayed the news to Victoria that Olivia had garnered a meeting with Rafe Barker, her biological father. This call might be regarding that meeting, which could prove detrimental to the agency’s attempts to keep all three of the Barker girls safe. Olivia would be the most challenging. Her background in the legal field indicated she never settled for the status quo.

  Knowing she could not ignore the call, Victoria moved across the room and picked up her cell. Simon’s name appeared on the screen with the next chime.

  “Good afternoon, Simon.” She held her breath and hoped the rest of the afternoon wasn’t about to be launched into chaos.

  “How is Lucas handling a quiet day at home?” Simon inquired.

  Disturbing news. Whenever Simon avoided a simple greeting and moved directly into neutral territory, he was preparing to deliver a less-than-pleasant update.

  “He’s skimming through the paper, having a drink fitting a leisurely afternoon on the beach. I should snap a photo and send it to you. I’m certain you would be amused. Do you have news about Olivia?” Victoria placed a hand on the island counter and held her breath.

  “Warden Prentice indicated that nothing Barker said to

  Olivia was new. He urged her to find her sisters and informed her that he had hired the agency to provide protection.”

  Victoria tried unsuccessfully to restrain the fury that sparked to life inside her. Rafe knew far more than he was sharing and his insistence on keeping aspects of the past to himself greatly hindered the agency’s efforts. He was playing a game, she was convinced.

  “What was Olivia’s reaction?” Victoria could only imagine the emotional state the young woman was in since learning the news that her parents were not her birth parents and, even worse, that her biological parents were convicted murderers. She could not be in a rational place, making her far more susceptible to the danger circling the three Barker girls.

  “St. James hasn’t been able to gauge her reaction as of yet. Olivia confronted him shortly after leaving the prison and as we speak they’re having a sit-down in a café in Livingston.”

  “Let me know as soon as you have an update from Russ.” Victoria would feel much better when Olivia was reconciled to having round-the-clock protection.

  “There’s another development, Vict
oria. If I didn’t know how much you want this case solved in a timely manner—” he sighed “—I wouldn’t even pass this information on to you. With Lucas’s injuries, I know your attention is needed there. But I am all too aware of your feelings on this case.”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. This was the part she had sensed was coming. “I’m listening.”

  “Barker wants another meeting with you. Tomorrow morning, nine o’clock. He says he has additional information he is now prepared to share but he will only share it with you. I pushed the issue of taking the meeting personally but he refused.”

  Equal measures anticipation and anger fired along her nerves. “If this information is so compelling, why can’t he share it now? Today? I can be in Livingston in a couple of hours.” The bastard liked playing games with her. With all of them. Whether he was innocent of the crimes with which he was charged or not, he was a twisted soul.

  “He refused to negotiate his terms. Nine tomorrow morning, you and you alone. What should I tell the warden?”

  Victoria wished she could tell Barker to go to hell. She trusted nothing he said. But her hands were tied. No risk could be taken until they ascertained the true source of the danger to these women. “Tell him I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll accompany you,” Simon offered.

  “No. I can do this alone. Your efforts are needed elsewhere.”

  “Very well. I’ll let Warden Prentice know to expect you.”

  Victoria ended the call and set her phone aside. She moved back to the French doors and watched her husband fold the paper and set it aside. Part of her wanted to simply stay right here and bar the world from her door. But that was impossible. Lucas would never run away from a challenge any more than she would. Her emotions made her vulnerable just now.

  More than twenty-five years ago her son had been taken from her by one of the most evil men who had ever lived. He had tortured and brainwashed Jim for nearly two decades. If Rafe was lying, he had taken Clare’s children from her and ensured she was charged for his heinous crimes right along with him. Victoria knew how that kind of loss and betrayal felt.

  Yet Clare’s actions since her release went against the idea that she was innocent and deserving of a reunion with her daughters. Victoria needed to ferret out the truth here. To reunite this family if possible.

  She could not walk away until that was done.

  Eventually the case would be solved one way or the other and her emotions would settle down. She would feel herself again. She and Lucas were safe and the Colby team investigating this case would be triumphant. Until then, their choices were sorely limited. She had to do her part.

  Lucas reached for his cell lying on the table where his now-empty glass sat. She didn’t have to ask to know the caller would be Simon making sure Lucas was aware of Victoria’s appointment tomorrow morning.

  The men in her life worked overtime to protect her. Rafe couldn’t touch her. He could only play with her emotions. Clare and her partner, however, were a different story. Victoria wondered if Clare Barker was the entity of evil that Rafe insisted she was. Or was she a battered and neglected wife who had been used as a scapegoat by the most horrific of evils?

  Victoria would know soon. Very soon.

  Chapter Four

  Livingston, 4:55 p.m.

  Olivia stared at the photos of her and her sisters as small children. She recognized the images of herself. Her adoptive parents had many photos taken during these same time frames, only Olivia was alone in those. She realized now, looking at this album, that none of the photos of her as a baby or small child back home had included her parents. Of course not. She had only come into their lives at age five.

  But why were most memories before that time so completely lost to her? The average person remembered some part of their pre-school days. Olivia recalled very little. She had learned two weeks ago that her adoptive parents had worked hard to instill in her false memories that included them. She supposed that was why those years were so muddled. They had tried very hard to mesh her fully into their lives. To wipe away the ugliness of her early years.

  The most disturbing part of this collection in front of her was the pictures from her life after the age of five. Several from each year. Every major event in her life was captured. Senior prom, high school graduation, college…everything.

  “How is this possible?” Her head moved side to side as she stared at the captured moments to which whoever created this album should not have had access. “Who did this?” Her gaze connected with St. James’s.

  “You two ready to order yet?” The waitress who’d stopped at their booth three times already paused once more.

  Olivia blinked. She couldn’t think of food right now. This was…unsettling. Just when she thought the bizarre puzzle couldn’t get any more twisted, something new and totally warped got thrown at her. Like this photo album of her life.

  As the waitress hovered, St. James looked to Olivia. “Something to drink at least?”

  The impatience emanating from the waitress was hard to ignore. “Water.” Olivia exhaled a shaky breath. None of this made sense. This part of her past was like watching some sort of surreal reality series.

  “Two waters.” St. James offered the harried lady a smile that was oddly distracting.

  Olivia blinked again, tried to find her mental bearings. Had her parents provided snapshots from her life as part of the original adoption agreement? A question she intended to add to her “need to know” list when she was speaking to them again. Deep down she felt guilty for being on the outs with the people who had raised and cared for her as their own. They had been good parents. Still were. She loved them and understood without reservation that they loved her.

  “We aren’t certain about that part,” St. James said in answer to her question about how the more recent parts of the photo album came to be. “But we do know that at the time of the adoption each family was provided with photos of the early years to allay questions later.”

  Questions from her…and her sisters. Olivia shook her head again. “Why didn’t they tell me?” She was an only child—at least she’d thought she was. She and her parents had always been so close. How could they have kept this from her as if the information was irrelevant?

  “That was a condition of the adoption. The secret was to be kept at all costs by all parties involved. Your parents were merely fulfilling their obligation to the legal contract they signed twenty-two years ago.”

  He made it sound so rational, so reasonable. As a paralegal, Olivia knew all about contracts. But this was morally wrong on so many levels. So, so many levels.

  “Is your agency investigating Rafe Barker’s claims of innocence?” Rafe’s roundabout way of suggesting he was innocent had startled her. It shouldn’t have. Most prison inmates would claim innocence, whatever their crimes. The fact that she was alive, as were her two sisters, lent credence to his claim to a degree that could not be ignored.

  St. James considered her question for a moment. His pause made her want to squirm. Was there more she didn’t know? She held his gaze, refusing to back off. Not an easy task. The man had amazing blue eyes, penetrating, hypnotic. He actually looked nothing like her idea of a private investigator. Thick blondish-brown hair that hugged the collar of his shirt. He dressed like the quintessential cowboy: well-fitted jeans, button-down cotton shirt, boots and hat. As handsome as he was, nothing about his appearance suggested skill as an investigator. He looked more like a celebrity cowboy—too well dressed and handsome to be a slave to a ranch or anything else. Didn’t help that his voice was whiskey smooth and dark water deep.

  Way off subject, Liv. Focus.

  “We are looking into his claims,” he finally said as if he’d waited for her to complete her mental inventory of his physical assets before interrupting.

  Was that it? “Have you reached any conclusions?” Did she need to draw him a map to what she wanted? Why was it that everyone around her at the mom
ent seemed determined to protect her by holding back? She was a big girl and the sooner he understood that the better. This was a pivotal moment in her life. There was so much she needed to know. And no one was cooperating.

  “Mr. Barker claims he had nothing to do with any of the murders,” St. James went on. “I don’t have to spell out the ramifications of what that could mean.”

  That part she knew. Was everyone two decades behind the curve on this case? “Does your agency have reason to believe his claims have any merit? Is that why you took his case?”

  Another of those pauses. “We didn’t exactly take his case. His suggestion that you and your sisters are in danger prompted the head of the Colby Agency to take action to ensure your safety. That is our primary objective.”

  Olivia felt taken aback. “Does your agency make it a habit of taking up causes that don’t feed the bottom line?” She had thought that perhaps notoriety was the motive. If the Colby Agency proved Rafe Barker’s innocence in the eleventh hour, priceless publicity would be the payoff. Of course, there would be some unpleasant aspects to such a move but if true justice prevailed, the acclaim would be incredible.

  The change in his eyes was unmistakable. Her suggestion that the agency might have a motive beyond doing the right thing didn’t sit so well. Maybe she had grown accustomed enough to the dog-eat-dog world of the criminal justice system that her skin was thicker than most. Clearly his was not.

  “We made a decision based on protecting lives,” he informed her with a tone that broadcast loudly that her assumption had been correct. He was offended. “Rafe Barker made a decision about his future, but Clare is another story. If she’s guilty then she represents a threat to you, your sisters and society.”

  “You have proof that she’s committed any crimes?” As best Olivia could determine, there was every reason to believe the man with whom Clare was traveling was the guilty party in the criminal events since her release.