by Regan Black
Two bitter rivals unite to track a deadly killer
Detective Emmanuel Iglesias does his duty at all costs, even if that means going up against Pippa Colton. The stubborn attorney insists her client is innocent, but Emmanuel knows that his case is rock-solid. That is, until Pippa becomes a target herself. Is the real killer still at large? As their mutual distrust turns into an undeniable attraction, the murderer becomes bolder—and more menacing...
USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR
“I like to stay busy,” she said, her nose in the air. “If you and Griffin are so worried about me cracking under pressure, come on back tonight and hover however you see fit. I’ll be submitting the application at seven.”
Clearly she didn’t want him to accept. She would have to be disappointed in his diligence. “That’s pretty specific.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Part of the background they’ve created for me,” she said. Her expression softened as she studied his face. “You really don’t need to worry, Detective.”
“Emmanuel,” he corrected. He wanted her to think of him as a friend, not the detective who’d testified against her client. “I’ll see you at seven. Earlier,” he said before he could change his mind. “I’ll bring dinner.”
Her lips parted and he was tempted to silence her protest with a kiss. Instead, he walked out, closing the door before she could utter a word. Before he could make a fool of himself.
Dear Reader,
It’s always a delight to fall in love with another wonderful, heroic branch of the Colton family. And there’s nothing quite like the sparks that fly when two people are sure they know all there is to know about each other.
Attorney Philippa Colton’s siblings only want to keep her safe in the midst of the cases she is juggling, but the friend they call on, Detective Emmanuel Iglesias, is a man she cannot trust.
Emmanuel is convinced Pippa’s quest to overturn a conviction on a case he worked is more about connections and favors than real justice, until he recognizes the signs of a dangerous killer taking aim at her.
Pippa and Emmanuel kept me on my toes as they struggled to overcome the odds and work together for justice...and possibly a once-in-a-lifetime love.
Live the adventure,
Regan Black
COLTON 911:
DETECTIVE ON CALL
Regan Black
Regan Black, a USA TODAY bestselling author, writes award-winning action-packed novels featuring kick-butt heroines and the sexy heroes who fall in love with them. Raised in the Midwest and California, she and her family, along with their adopted greyhound, two arrogant cats and a quirky finch, reside in the South Carolina Lowcountry, where the rich blend of legend, romance and history fuels her imagination.
Books by Regan Black
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Colton 911: Grand Rapids
Colton 911: Detective on Call
The Coltons of Mustang Valley
Colton Cowboy Jeopardy
The Riley Code
A Soldier’s Honor
His Soldier Under Siege
The Coltons of Roaring Springs
Colton Family Showdown
Escape Club Heroes
Safe in His Sight
A Stranger She Can Trust
Protecting Her Secret Son
Braving the Heat
The Coltons of Shadow Creek
Killer Colton Christmas
“Special Agent Cowboy”
The Coltons of Red Ridge
Colton P.I. Protector
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
For Mark, my personal hero.
I’d be lost without you, my love.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Excerpt from Colton’s Secret History by Jennifer D. Bokal
Chapter 1
At the reception desk of the women’s prison, Pippa Colton waited, smothering her brewing impatience under a professionally unflappable demeanor. Probably the most important lesson of law school: never let them see you sweat.
Though she wasn’t sweating in her charcoal slacks and tailored jacket, it was impossible to ignore the ripe smells of the countless bodies that had passed through. Thanks to its overcrowding and pervasive violence, she could not consider the prison system as anything other than inhumane. No matter how clean on the surface, every prison had a distinct odor of fatigue, resignation and stress that never faded. Her client would have likely thrown a fit and demanded air freshener upon arrival.
The guard on the other side of the window frowned at her credentials, shifting his gaze to a computer monitor and back to her. “You’re not listed on the visitor log today.”
“There must be a mistake.” She reached into her briefcase for the confirmation she’d printed out after registering this meeting through the online portal. This wasn’t her first trek to a prison. “I have the details right here.”
She slid the page through the gap in the protective window, and on the other side, the skinny man’s thin upper lip curled. He seemed bent on turning her away, but jumping through hoops was part of the job. Soon she would be heading deeper into this monstrosity of a facility, and the attitudes aimed her way from both inmates and guards were likely to get surlier along the way.
With a put-upon sigh, the guard keyed in the number at the top of the page and waited. Shaking his head, he pushed the paper back to her, along with her credentials. “Nothing here, ma’am.”
“But—”
He shrugged. “There’s nothing here. You’ll have to reschedule.”
She reined in her temper. No one in the legal system wanted to befriend the lawyer trying to overturn a conviction. Especially when that conviction meant freeing the woman everyone loved to hate, Anna Wentworth, who had been transferred to the prison two weeks ago after a jury found her guilty of murdering her lover, David Hicks.
Public opinion had been working against Anna from the start. A prominent married socialite in Grand Rapids, Michigan, Anna had been dubbed the Queen of Mean long before being labeled as a killer. Oddly enough, no one cared that she’d been unfaithful to her husband, Ed, only that she’d allegedly offed Hicks when the younger man ended the affair.
“Could you please double-check?” she asked with a polite smile. Her mind was envisioning outrageous methods of getting to her client. But she wasn’t an action hero, just the least popular attorney in Michigan today.
The guard walked away without a word, paper in hand. She had no idea if the man would return to the window or how long it would be until someone else stepped up to return her credentials.
She’d never been outright denied a visit. To get Anna released, she had to give the court the real killer and proof to clear her client. Unfortunately, the case file and collected evidence had yet to point her in the right direction. Why was she the only person who could look at the evidence and see it was too neat and tidy to be true? Her hope was that Anna would cooperate today in ways she hadn’t done with her original defense team.
At the time of her arrest and trial, Anna had been certain being innocent—and wealthy—would be enough to get the charges dismissed and the case thrown out. No one could
convince her of the severity of the evidence against her. As a strategy, being too wealthy to go to prison was terrible. As a lifestyle it was worse. Though Pippa had also been raised in a wealthy family, she detested Anna’s elitist and privileged attitudes. But no one deserved to be in prison for a crime they didn’t commit.
The skinny guard returned, looking annoyed that she hadn’t given up. “Sorry, ma’am. I double-checked.” He pushed the paper and her credentials back across the counter for her. “You can’t see your client today. In the future you’ll need to schedule an appointment with the new form.”
“I scheduled today’s appointment with the current form,” Pippa said. She pulled up her phone and opened her email app. Briskly, she read aloud the dates of her emails and the positive responses from the prison. “Shall I forward these to you?” she queried.
“No, ma’am. I can’t accept that as authorization.” His gaze fell and he looked a bit sheepish, and she pounced on the first sign of weakness.
“What can you accept? I’ve driven over two hours to see my client after filing everything properly. You do know she and I have a legal right to confer.”
“Yes, ma’am—”
“Great.” She cut him off. “In the past, I’ve been able to fill out visitation paperwork right here. Is that an option today?”
“No, ma’am. New policy is in effect. I can’t let you in without the correct paperwork, completed twenty-four hours ahead of the requested time. Sorry. Ma’am.”
His diligent use of “ma’am” struck her ears like nails on a chalkboard, and she was sure that’s why he kept it up. She pressed her lips together and started over.
“I respect your position and the system,” she began, ignoring the guard’s sneer. The anti-Anna movement was in full force today. Again, she mentally scolded her client for making this all so much harder than it needed to be. Clearly, the woman’s superiority complex wasn’t making her any friends in prison either. Only more enemies.
Elizabeth, Anna’s daughter and Pippa’s good friend, would be terribly disappointed if Pippa couldn’t get inside today. For Elizabeth, she reminded herself, infusing her voice with steel. “You, sir, are hindering the legal process,” she snapped. “May I speak with your supervisor?”
“No, ma’am. He’s at lunch.”
One more snarky “ma’am” and she would come dangerously close to committing a crime herself. She lightly rested her folded hands on the counter. If she had to wear prison orange, it should be for a better reason than losing her temper. She smiled, absolutely certain the expression was less than friendly. “Is Warden Birrell available? Although we haven’t spoken in person since my father’s funeral, it would make the trip worthwhile just to say hello and catch up for a few minutes.”
Name-dropping wasn’t her thing, and she typically avoided throwing around Colton family connections and influence this way, but she was growing desperate.
The guard closed the panel so she couldn’t push any more papers at him. “The warden and my supervisor are having lunch together.”
“How wonderful for everyone,” Pippa said. “I’ll wait right here for their return.” She planted herself in the plastic chair across from the window.
And didn’t that plan shine a spotlight on the differences between her and the prison inmates, including her client. She had the luxury and freedom to stay or go as she wished. It shouldn’t have surprised her that the speculation in the press had reached the prison. Calling her the Queen of Mean, the general consensus was that she’d taken on the Queen’s case for immediate notoriety. While it was true that getting Anna’s conviction overturned would allow her to progress her ideal career path, Pippa was here to right a wrong and to help Elizabeth, her friend.
Twenty minutes ticked by, then another twenty. Although it made sense for both the supervisor and the warden to return through this entrance, closest to their offices, it was clear someone had warned them off. She knew when she was defeated.
Using her phone, she drafted an email to the warden, who really was a family friend, and sent a text message update to Elizabeth on the day’s failure. Pulling out her portfolio, she opened it to the notepad printed with her firm’s formal letterhead. With her best penmanship, she wrote a friendly little letter to Warden Birrell, praising his staff. She folded the note and slid it into an envelope also printed with the firm’s logo. There was no sense pretending the note wouldn’t be read long before it reached him, if it reached him at all. Thus the reason for the more direct and candid email she would send once she was outside.
She stepped up to the window once more. “I’d like to leave this note for the warden, please.”
“Fine. I’ll take it,” the guard said.
It didn’t escape her notice that he didn’t say the note would be delivered. “Thank you.” She pushed the envelope across the counter, up to the closed slot. At least he’d laid off the “ma’am” routine. “Have a wonderful day.” Chin in the air, she turned and marched out, feeling only marginally guilty that she could leave the prison behind.
Prisons were a necessary piece of the justice system. Defense teams were essential too, and not just to stand up for those wrongfully accused. She knew she was on the right side with the Wentworth case, but it was going to be a hard road to help this particular client.
The crisp autumn air and bright sunshine were welcome and she breathed deeply, closing her eyes briefly when she reached the relative security of her vehicle.
After unlocking the car, she opened the back door and set her briefcase on the floor behind the driver’s seat. She paused to send the email to the warden, then shrugged out of her suit jacket and draped it over the hanger in the back. Settling behind the wheel for the drive home, she started the engine, then sat back, checking her phone one more time, just in case the warden had seen her email.
Having dawdled as much as she dared, she backed out of her parking space and drove away.
* * *
The prison guard kept an eye on the security monitors, waiting until the gates closed behind the snooty attorney. He waited a few minutes more until she pulled out of the parking lot. Then he called someone to cover him so he could go have a smoke. Outside in the employee parking lot, he stared out at the line of trees blocking the prison yard from the rest of the world.
He lit his cigarette and took a long, deep drag. The persistent woman had been almost as annoying as the inmate she wanted to see.
Pulling out his phone, he called the number he’d been given. It rang three times before anyone picked up.
“Go,” said the voice on the other end.
“She’s gone,” he said. “No meeting with her client.”
“Got it.”
“And the daughter?” the guard asked. It was going to be a whole lot harder stonewalling that one, but he could find a way if it meant extra cash. “Hello?” He checked his signal and saw the Call Ended icon flashing on his screen.
“Whatever,” he muttered, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He’d done his part. If the money wasn’t in his account when he got home tonight, he’d do things the right way next time.
* * *
Detective Emmanuel Iglesias checked his phone as he finished his lunch outside the GRPD headquarters. One of his favorite food trucks had parked nearby today and it was too beautiful outside not to soak up the fall weather. He dealt with the less appealing facets of Grand Rapids most days and last year, on the verge of burnout, he’d promised himself to focus on the nicer elements as often as possible to balance the scales.
Seeing the text message from his friend Griffin Colton, he hesitated. The preview on the app mentioned Griffin’s sister, Pippa. Emmanuel tried not to groan out loud. Why had he agreed when Griffin asked him to keep an eye on his sister?
Because friends stepped up.
He opened the full text message. No word from Pippa today. No answer
at her office or condo. It happens when she’s focused, but I’d feel better if you have time to check.
Apparently Pippa had a reputation within the family for being a little too reckless in the pursuit of justice. As a business, founded by Griffin’s older brother Riley, the siblings worked together as Colton Investigations and they had their hands full with the escalating RevitaYou situation.
RevitaYou, a daily “miracle” supplement, promised to make a person look ten years younger after only one week of use. With rave reviews from consumers and falsified medical endorsements, a new business had exploded with investors and distributors. But something in the formula was off and turning into deadly Ricin. One death had already been linked to the supplement and everything indicated there would be more.
The GRPD and Colton Investigations were cooperating to prevent more untimely deaths, though Emmanuel knew a top priority for the Coltons was locating Brody Higgins, a young man they considered part of the family, who had borrowed money to invest in RevitaYou. Unfortunately, he’d borrowed from Capital X, a loan shark operation disguised as a legitimate financial group. The Coltons were determined to find Brody before the Capital X enforcers hurt him—again.
Changing directions, he headed for his car to swing by Pippa’s condo and office. He’d keep his word and try to find something to ease Griffin’s mind.
Emmanuel knew Griffin worried about Pippa getting caught up in Brody’s mess, since his last direct contact had been with her. Now that she was the new lead attorney for a convicted killer, Emmanuel had other concerns. He wouldn’t define Pippa’s choice to defend Anna Wentworth as a reckless pursuit of justice. In his mind, it was more like career suicide.
Having worked the Wentworth case, he knew it was solid. He’d testified at the trial and walked the jury through every piece of evidence he’d found. Pippa hadn’t been on the defense team then, but now resentment was brewing against her in the GRPD. No one liked having good work picked apart in the search for a technicality that would set a criminal free.
