Protecting Peyton: The Gold Coast Retrievers, Book 4

by Muth, Becky

  “Sure thing, hon. Arnold, do you need anything?”

  “No thank you, Mrs. Collins,” Winters replied from his place on the sofa. He picked up a chicken strip and held it up in a mock toast. Lowering his voice, he confided, “Dang, you sure do have it made. My mom would never do this for me.”

  Kurt smirked. “Being the only son has its perks.”

  “Mama’s boy,” Arnold shot back.

  “And he’s proud of it.” Mrs. Collins gave a smug grin as she passed by him on her way to hand Kurt the ketchup bottle, flicking the top of the cap open for him. “Aren’t you, son?”

  “Yes, I sure am.” Kurt squeezed the plastic container and a glob of the tomato-based sauce splattered onto the steaming pile of deep fried potato segments. Handing the bottle back to his mother, he smiled. “Thank you for everything.”

  “I would stay longer but I have to pick up your sister from the airport.” Closing the lid, she tucked it under the crook her arm and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead.

  “Is anyone going with you? I mean, after what happened last time,” Kurt stopped short.

  Mrs. Collins turned on her heel and put her hands on her hips. “Now you know that wasn’t my fault. How am I supposed to see restricted parking signs that are twelve feet in the air? They should put them at eye-level.”

  “But mom, that would be waist height for everyone else.”

  She waggled her index finger at him and returned to the kitchen. The clatter of dishes and sound of running water drifted through the apartment.

  Kurt took a sip of his root beer float and groaned.

  “What’s wrong, man?”

  Kurt held up his splinted forearm. “Dude, I don’t want to be out of work for this long.”

  “Didn’t you say you were helping that chick find her brother?”

  “Yeah, but that shouldn’t take too long. Then what’ll I do?”

  “Study for the detective’s exam?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Why not? It’s more money. Less risk.”

  “And turn into my father? No thanks.”

  “Except aren’t you technically doing detective work right now?”

  A moment of awkward silence passed between them.

  Changing the topic, Winters lowered his voice. “Hawk asked about you.”

  “Who?” Kurt frowned.

  “You know, Nicole Hawkins, that hot firefighter chick from the bar.”

  Kurt craned his neck to make sure his mom was still in the kitchen. “Ugh. What did you tell her?”

  “I told her you wouldn’t be around for a while. She asked if she could bring you anything, so I gave her your address.”

  “Tell me you’re joking, Snowball.”

  Winters snickered. “Dude, you should see your face. No, I didn’t give her your address. Why?”

  The sound of running water came to an abrupt end. Kurt tapped the index finger of his good hand against his lips, sending a silent message to his partner.

  A few seconds later, his mother reappeared with the strap of her purse slung over one shoulder. She crossed the room and kissed Kurt’s forehead again. “Well, you’re not running a temperature. Do you need anything else before I go?”

  “No, I’m okay. Thanks again for the food. You really are the best mom in the world.”

  “Mhmm. I know. You call me if you do. If I can’t come over right away, I’ll send one of your sisters.” Mrs. Collins turned to Winters. “And you stay safe out there, Arnold.”

  “Yes ma’am, I will,” he promised as she walked toward the front door to leave the apartment.

  “Love you, son,” she called before leaving.

  “Love you too, mom,” Kurt replied a moment before the door clicked shut. He waited a second to ensure his mother wouldn’t return before turning to his partner. “Dude! That chick is stalking me, I swear.”

  “You’re paranoid.”

  Kurt relayed Nicole’s appearances at the diner and the hospital. “See? It’s obvious. She’s a stalker.”

  “So, your dad sends her after you and then she happens to be at the hospital on the same day you have an appointment. That's a nice coincidence.”

  Kurt’s phone buzzed on the wooden dinner tray his mom had placed over his lap earlier. He looked at the screen and grimaced.

  “What’s wrong? Who is it?”

  “My stalker. Who else?” He held up the phone to show his partner the headshot Nicole used for her Reel Life profile picture. "She's calling me from the app."

  His partner’s mouth formed an O. “Wow, dude. She’s got it bad for you. You connected your phone number to it?”

  “I signed in with Facebook. How was I supposed to know all that info carried over? I'm letting this one go to voicemail.” Kurt set the phone on the arm of his recliner and went back to his lunch. The ringtone ended only to start up a few seconds later. He licked his fingers in anticipation of picking up the phone, but Winters snatched it away before he had the chance.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Peyton set the digital tablet connected to her computer on the desk and laid the stylus next to it. Although the task at hand required her to create graphics for a new small business offering orca-watching tours, thoughts of Owen filled her brain.

  A week had passed since Peyton filled out the missing person's report. There was no word from the officers who met her at Owen’s house despite the messages she left for them at the police station. If Kurt’s investigating uncovered any news, he failed to share it with her, although they texted daily. The only thing she kept from him was the grant fraud paperwork. She couldn’t bring herself to accept that her brother might be involved in something illegal.

  Across the room, Gilda sprawled across a ginormous pillow surrounded by an array of ropes, bones, and other doggy accessories. The golden retriever’s gentle snoring created a relaxing ambiance that Peyton would have welcomed on any other day.

  Rolling her chair away from the desk, she stood and stretched her arms over her head, fingers wiggling toward the ceiling. “I have got to get out of this house. Come on, Gilda. Want to go for a car ride?”

  At hearing the buzzwords, the dog sprang to her feet and gave a series of barks in reply.

  “Come on, then.”

  At Peyton’s urging, the golden retriever bounded out of the room and raced down the hall. Peyton followed behind, grabbing the dog’s leash from its hook by the front door and clasping one end to her collar.

  * * *

  Once on the highway, Peyton drove straight to Owen’s house. Slowing the car to a snail’s pace, she observed the front of the house. Although most of the tape remained in its original position, a gentle breeze had captured the top strip so that it waved like a beckoning finger. An industrial-sized padlock held the door closed to would-be intruders.

  “Looks the same as it has every day, doesn’t it, girl?” Peyton mused, picturing Owen greeting them from his front lawn. As if reading her owner’s thoughts, Gilda whined and pawed at the window from her place in the passenger seat. “I know, girl. I miss him, too. Let’s go see Carla, okay? Maybe she has cookies.”

  Several minutes later, Peyton pulled her car into an empty parking space right outside the science wing of the college. Gilda woofed her excitement. Peyton unhooked Gilda’s harness, wishing she could share in her dog’s happy-go-lucky perspective as they exited the car.

  When they reached the double doors leading into the building, a gentleman wearing a dark suit and sunglasses held one of the doors open.

  Peyton smiled and murmured her thanks, almost running headfirst into another man who could have been a twin to the first. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  The man nodded without speaking and sidestepped, giving Peyton and her dog a wide berth.

  Straining her leash, Gilda pulled hard to the opposite side of the hallway, threatening to drag Peyton behind her. “Calm down, Gilda. There’s no running in school, remember?”

  The door to Owen’s classroom stood open.
Sunlight streamed through a row of long, squat windows near the ceiling. Aside from the dry erase board displaying an unmarked surface, the room looked as it would have if Owen wasn’t missing.

  “Carla? Are you here?” Peyton made a fist and gave the door a couple of sharp raps before stepping inside.

  A scurrying sound preceded the woman’s arrival from Owen’s office in the back of the room. She gripped a cell phone in one hand and a stapler in the other. “Thank God it’s you, Peyton. Shut the door to the hall, now. The police are on their way.” Without waiting for a response, Carla rushed forward and pulled Peyton into the room. The moment Gilda’s tail cleared the space, the silver-haired woman pushed the door until the latch clicked.

  “Police? Carla, did you hear from Owen?”

  “No, Peyton, but there were two men here. They looked through Owen’s office.” Before Peyton could reply, the woman rushed to describe the two men she and Gilda had encountered upon entering the building. “So, I hid in the closet and they looked through the desk and filing cabinet. Something in the hall startled them and, after a moment, they left.”

  “Carla, I'd bet anything those are the two men Gilda and I passed on our way into the building.”

  Carla touched the four points on her chest to draw the sign of the cross and hugged Peyton before bending to kiss the golden retriever’s forehead. “Thank God you are both all right."

  “Did they say what they were looking for?”

  “No. Two words did not pass between them.”

  A knock on the door rattled its glass window and caused both women to jump.

  “Do not open it. It might be those men,” Carla warned.

  Peering through the etched glass, Peyton was able to make out the silhouette of two uniformed individuals. “It’s okay, Carla. It’s the police.” She moved to one side, giving Carla space to unlock and open the door.

  A combination of relief and annoyance surged through Peyton when she saw Jones and Lopez in the hallway. While Kurt assured her that the police were working to find her brother, the lack of information from the two who took the report discouraged her.

  “Miss McIntyre, were you the person who called this in?” Jones asked, stepping into the classroom without waiting for an invitation. Lopez followed close behind, the officer’s eyes darting about the room.

  “No, Carla did. She’s Owen’s TA.”

  “Yes, we’ve spoken on the telephone.” Lopez flashed the older woman a polite smile. “Can you tell me what happened that caused you to call the police today?”

  Carla repeated the sequence of events, leading the uniformed detectives to the back of the room and showing them the areas in question. Lopez snapped a series of photos with her phone while Jones jotted things in a palm-sized notepad.

  Staying out of the way, Peyton waited in the classroom. Where are you, Owen? You promised you would never disappear on me again. A series of what-ifs created a tide pool in her mind, the swirling questions leading deeper into a rabbit hole that led to unthinkable possibilities.

  By the time the trio emerged from the office, Peyton was all out of patience. She blurted, “So what now?”

  “We’ll add these details to the case,” Lopez assured her.

  Peyton took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to control her emotions. “Excuse me, but what exactly are you doing to find my brother? You haven’t returned any of my calls, and it’s been a week.” Her voice started out normal enough, but by the end it turned shrill, having increased by a few octaves.

  “Ma’am, with all due respect,” Jones replied, “if not for the state of your brother’s home, it’s doubtful that we’d put this much effort into looking for him. Adults decide to go missing every day. It’s not against the law.”

  “Owen wouldn’t do that,” Peyton insisted.

  Lopez nodded. “We’ll let you know if your brother turns up. In the meantime, keep in mind that this is an open investigation. There are details we can’t release yet but, rest assured, we are doing everything in our power to find him.”

  Carla took the business card Lopez offered and walked the detectives into the hallway.

  From inside the classroom, Peyton heard the officers give the teaching assistant more of the same vague information.

  “Forget them. I know just the person who can help.” Pulling her phone from the pocket of her jeans, Peyton opened her contacts list and pressed the call button under Kurt’s photo. By the time Carla returned, she sat planted in Owen’s instructional chair, her phone to her ear. With each ensuing ring, she thought, Pick up your phone!

  Chapter Twenty

  “No, wait! Give me that!” Kurt thrust his hand out toward Winters.

  “I’ve got this. Trust me.” Without looking at the phone, Winters swiped his finger across the screen. Putting the device to his ear he deepened his voice. “Hey, baby. You’ve reached Kurt’s place. I’m busy getting busy with my honey bunny, but if you leave a message at the tone, we can get down later.”

  “Snowball, you give me my phone. Now,” Kurt demanded through gritted teeth.

  Winters held the phone at arm’s length and lowered his voice. “Geesh. I was just having a little fun.” Putting the phone against his ear again, he said, “Sorry, Nicole. Let me hand you over to, uh, what? Oh. Um, sorry. Here’s Kurt. It's for you.”

  Kurt grabbed the phone from his friend and looked at the screen. Upon seeing Peyton’s name, he glared at Winters before plastering on a smile. “Hey there. Sorry about my partner. He thinks he’s a comedian. Um, what’s up?”

  “Two men were digging around in Owen’s office. I’m here now with his teaching assistant.”

  “What? Did you call the police?” Kurt sat up a little straighter.

  Winters leaned forward and whispered, “Is that the chick from the beach? Why would she need to call the police? Is everything okay?”

  Kurt frowned and shook his head at his partner to focus on Peyton.

  “Carla did. I had just gotten here when they were leaving. Carla suffered more from the scare. Lopez and Jones took the report and told us not to discuss the details with anyone. They left two minutes ago.”

  “Well, they’re right about an open investigation. The more a person snoops around and pulls on threads, the more dangerous the situation becomes.”

  “I’d feel better if you looked around. The other police officers weren’t here five minutes. What if those men came back?” Her voice held an anxious note he hadn’t heard before.

  “Snowball and I can drop by, if you’ll still be there.”

  “Oh, would you? That would be great. I’m here with Owen’s teaching assistant and Gilda.”

  “Everything will be okay. We will be there in a few.” Kurt ended the call and looked at Winters. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Aw man, but it’s my day off.”

  “It serves you right for making it seem like I have something going with Nicole. Help me get this thing to the kitchen?” Kurt gestured toward the wooden tray across his lap. “No lifting for two weeks, remember?”

  “Only because you were a good boy and ate all your nuggets.”

  “Since I was a good boy, do I get ice cream?”

  Winters laughed. “Sure, K.C. Even though you had a root beer float with your lunch, you can have ice cream, too. You want that before or after we go play with the puppy?”

  * * *

  As Winters parked next to Peyton’s car, Kurt unclasped his seatbelt. The moment his partner turned the key to shut off the engine, he was out the door and scrambling for the sidewalk.

  “Come on. She says it’s down this hallway, then turn left, and the third door on the right,” Kurt urged, beckoning with his good arm. He led Winters through the halls and stopped at the door. Black vinyl letters spelled out PHYSICS LAB and PROFESSOR OWEN on the etched glass window. Lifting his uninjured hand, he used his knuckles to knock out a staccato beat on the open area below the text.

  The door opened and there stood Peyton ne
xt to an older woman.

  “Peyton? Are you okay? Did they come back?” Kurt stepped into the classroom with Winters on his heels. Noticing the older woman, he nodded a respectful greeting.

  “Kurt, thank God you’re here.” Peyton’s stance relaxed a little, the dog at her feet smiling at the new arrivals.

  “Okay. Tell me everything that happened, and don’t leave anything out.” Kurt laid his phone on one of the desks. “Oh, and do you mind if I record our conversation?”

  Winters looked at him with a questioning look, but Kurt focused on the woman whose dog had saved his life.

  “No, that’s fine,” Peyton replied after looking at Carla, who nodded her agreement.

  “Great. Now, tell me everything that happened. Please, don’t leave anything out.” Kurt gave the women a reassuring smile.

  When the women finished, Winters asked, “Do you mind if we take a look around his office?”

  “By all means.” Carla stood and led the two men to the office.

  Kurt noted that Peyton stayed behind with her dog. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through. Once inside the office, he opened the camera app on his phone and took a series of photos. Winters poked around the filing cabinet and desk.

  Carla asked, “What are you looking for?”

  “Anything that looks out of the ordinary or misplaced,” Winters explained. “Sometimes when you’re familiar with a place, it’s easy to overlook things in plain sight. A fresh pair of eyes lends new perspective.”

  “You have already done more than the other two officers.” Carla punctuated her words with a hmph sound.

  “Jones and Lopez are good cops,” Kurt defended his co-workers. He nodded toward the splint on his forearm. “Not everyone has the time we do to look into things. They’re stretched pretty thin down at the station. It's luck of the draw that I'm out of commission and Snowball has the day off.”

  Winters interjected, “Excuse me. Has this drawer always been stuck?”