Colton 911--Deadly Texas Reunion

by Beth Cornelison

  His expression darkened at the mention of being sexually objectified by her colleagues.

  “I finally had enough and quit.”

  “Good,” he said, nodding his head in approval.

  “I came here to start my own business and be the boss. But even here I get funny looks when I tell people I’m the owner of Davies Investigations LLC. I’ve lost business when people change their mind about hiring me when they learn a woman would be handling their case.” She huffed angrily. “So, yeah, I’m a little sensitive to being pushed aside and treated with sexism, because it has been happening for years. And it drives me nuts!” Summer raised her hands, her fingers curled like claws as she growled her frustration.

  Nolan again sat quietly, his gaze on her, steady and a bit unnerving with its penetrating power. Something deep in her core stirred in response to his hazel stare.

  Finally he spoke, his voice calm and deep and lulling. “First of all, this Nolan—” he flattened a hand against his chest “—is the same Nolan you knew. I didn’t discriminate against you when we were kids, and I will not now. I see ability and character in you. Not man versus woman.”

  Reluctantly, she said, “Okay.”

  His reply should have made her feel better, but the marrow-deep awareness he awoke in her deflated instead, leaving a hollow ache. She wanted to be treated as an equal, but would it be so terrible if he saw her as a woman? Did she really want to be just his pal? The feminine side of her said no, while a more practical part of her brain reminded her of his platonic-only rule.

  “Second, I hate that you were subjected to that kind of discrimination and objectification. I’d love to set those men straight on a thing or two.” His hand flexed as he scowled, leaving no secret how he’d set her sexist colleagues straight.

  “And finally, the questions about Patrice’s family were valid and necessary. I wasn’t trying to take over. I was asking important questions, if only to legitimately eliminate them as suspects. It’s not impossible that they hired you to throw the investigation off their tracks.” He angled his head and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “I think if you’ll look past your sense of being overshadowed, you’ll know I’m right.”

  The tingles were back. In spades. Her attention zeroed in on his warm hand, the sensation rushing through her blood, the hint of dizziness that swamped her.

  “Summer?”

  She jerked her gaze back to him, mentally replaying his last words. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry I overreacted.” She exhaled a cleansing breath. “I’ll try not to be so testy from here on out.”

  He lifted the corner of his mouth and gave her a wink. Before he withdrew his hand, he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze.

  When she turned the key again to restart the engine, her hand was trembling. With a tight grip on the steering wheel to hide the tremors, she backed from the parking spot and headed out to the side street, praying Nolan hadn’t noticed her show of nerves. Her crazy attraction to Nolan was her issue to manage. He’d been clear that he wanted their friendship to continue on the same course it had begun. Strictly buddies. Asexual pals.

  And because she valued his friendship, his insights and his expertise on this case, she would find a way to rein in this new fascination with his GQ physique, thrilling touch and drool-worthy mug.

  As she drove, Nolan opened her notebook and read over her notes. “I suggest we follow up with Patrice’s dad on the job interviews and find these guys from her vocational classes.”

  Summer nodded. “I agree. I also want to look up her social media profiles and see if anything stands out.”

  He flipped the notebook closed and angled his body toward her. “Speaking of social media, tell me more about the troublesome ex you were trying to avoid when you made your profiles so hard to find. Robby?”

  She cut a surprised glance to him. “Yes, Robby. Did I tell you that?”

  “At lunch, yes. And I’m good with names. Comes in handy during investigations.”

  “I bet.” She returned her gaze to the road and shrugged Robby off, even though just his name still caused an acid bite in her gut. “We dated briefly, but I knew pretty quickly he wasn’t for me. So I broke up with him, and he didn’t like it. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “When was this? How long ago?”

  “Mmm, end of my freshman year of college, so...nearly ten years?”

  “When was the last time you heard from him? Is he still a problem?”

  She sent Nolan a smile. His evident protectiveness spread a gooey, sweet feeling and a sense of safety through her. “Are you planning to beat him up for me, G-man?”

  He flipped up a palm. “If needed.”

  “Well, thanks for the thought, but after a couple months and my threat to call the police on him, he took the hint.” She twisted her mouth as she reflected on Robby’s tactics of intimidation and stalking. “Thank God.”

  Had Patrice’s murder been the result of a relationship gone bad? An ex-boyfriend who wouldn’t take no for an answer? Her roommates hadn’t known of anyone Patrice had been dating, but could a past boyfriend have been stalking her?

  “Hey, make a note for us to ask Patrice’s father about past boyfriends. Maybe Patrice wasn’t as lucky to get rid of a bad penny as I was.”

  “Good thinking,” he said with a nod...but didn’t write it down.

  “Uh, Nolan? Aren’t you going to make that note for me?” She pointed to her pad.

  He tapped his temple. “It’s all right here. As your partner in this investigation, you share the benefit of my excellent memory and attention to detail.”

  She snorted. “And your modesty?”

  He shot her a wry look. “And I get the benefit of your dry wit.”

  She laughed. “Yep.”

  He reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “It’s one of the things I love most about you, Tadpole. Don’t ever change.”

  She knew he didn’t mean love in that way, but hearing him say the word in reference to her caused a funny tickle in her belly. The weight and warmth of his hand sent sparks through her bloodstream, and her lips trembled as she sent him a smile of acknowledgment.

  Don’t ever change, he’d said. But did her reactions to the sexy adult version of her old friend mean something had already changed for her? Falling for Nolan, who was only in town while on suspension from the FBI, was a setup for heartache. She’d do well to remember that.

  Chapter 5

  When they returned to Summer’s office, Nolan looked over her notes from the meetings with Patrice’s family when they’d hired Summer and with Patrice’s roommates. He had to admit, her notes were meticulous, and the questions and insights she’d scribbled in the margins were on point and reflected a keen, analytical mind.

  Summer continued to surprise him. Not that he hadn’t known she was smart. Even as a kid he could tell that. And she’d always been able to make him laugh when they were younger, too. She’d been the ebullient, animated, energetic person she was today, full of sweeping hand gestures and expressive facial reactions. Larger than life. Was that the term they used?

  So, in a lot of ways she was everything he remembered, but...holy cow! Every time he looked at her, he was stunned all over again by the sexy woman she’d become. Keeping his vow to maintain a friendly distance was proving harder than he’d anticipated. Her determination to make a go of her business filled him with pride. The stories of her teen years, a drifting soul looking for an identity, broke his heart. And that Robby punk who’d harassed her? Nolan wanted five minutes alone with the guy to teach him not to mess with his Summer.

  Nolan frowned and mentally backed up. Not his Summer. Just Summer. He couldn’t start thinking of her as his without repercussions he didn’t want to deal with. He would be leaving again for Chicago in a few days, and the last thing he wanted was to give Summer the wrong idea about his intent
ions, potentially hurting her when he left town.

  “Don’t you think so, Nolan? Ahem! Nolan?”

  Yanked from his musings, he jerked his gaze up to hers. “Sorry, what?”

  “I was just saying the follow-up conversation with Patrice’s father and brother can wait a bit. Tracking down the guys from her class should be our next move. Where were you just then?”

  He waved off her question with a vague hand motion. “I can’t get the conversation I had with my cousins last night out of my head.” A lie, but a useful dodge of her question. No way he’d tell her he was obsessing over her.

  “About the Mummy Killer?”

  “Um...yeah.”

  “I thought the cops decided Patrice wasn’t one of his victims.”

  “They did, but my cousins have been up to their Stetsons in all kinds of crazy, dangerous stuff in recent months. It may not be related, but it’d also be negligent of us not to at least consider there could be a link.”

  Summer nodded. “Okay. We can look into it.”

  Nolan spun the desk chair to look out the front window. He gnawed on the cap of his pen as he stared at the old buildings that lined the street and housed the small businesses that made Whisperwood so unique and special. Corporate America hadn’t crept into town yet—much—to spoil the homey, personalized nature of the shops and services on Main Street. One could still buy fresh eggs, locally grown vegetables or a box of crackers from Whisperwood General Store, enjoy a custom-brewed cup of coffee at JoJo’s Java or find the right tool for the job at B&P Hardware. Small town...

  “I don’t believe in coincidences,” Nolan said, thinking aloud, “and this town is too small for those other crimes not to be related to Patrice’s death somehow.” He turned back to find Summer cuddling her cat as she paced. “I can feel it.”

  She nodded. “I trust your instincts. So let’s head out to the ranch now and talk to them.”

  He twisted his mouth and cocked his head. “Not the best time to catch everyone at home.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “So when then? I’m flexible.”

  “Well, they’re having a barbecue tomorrow night at the ranch as sort of a welcome thing for me. Everyone is supposed to be there. Why don’t you come?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t crash a family event.”

  “You won’t be crashing. Come as my date.”

  * * *

  Summer’s pulse skipped. “Your date?”

  He pulled a face. “Not a date date. My guest. Friend. Whatever. Don’t get hung up on semantics, Tadpole.”

  She was sure he’d used the old nickname to put things in perspective and remind her how he viewed her. The shrimpy tagalong girl. His buddy. The tomboy who struggled to keep up with the guys.

  “All right, Bullfrog,” she said, emphasizing his moniker to say message received. “I’ll come. It’ll be a good excuse to catch up with Avery and see the twins again. I haven’t seen the darlings since they were born.”

  He chuckled dryly. “They were only born a couple of weeks ago. I doubt you’ve missed much.”

  “Not true. Avery says they change a little every day.”

  “Hmm.”

  She felt the weight of his stare and shot him a glance. “What? I’m not allowed to want to keep up with my best friend’s twins?”

  “Best friend?”

  “Well, yeah. In recent years.” She set Yossi on the floor and brushed cat hair off her shirt. When she glanced at Nolan, his gaze was locked on her chest where she’d been tidying her shirt. Did his pupils seem larger or was it just the dim light in her office? She shook off the notion that he was ogling her and explained, “I knew her in elementary school, and after my family moved away, we were pen pals. We reconnected in the last few months. She’s one of the reasons I moved here. She reminded me how great Whisperwood was for settling down and starting a family.”

  His chin jerked up, and he blinked. “You’re starting a family?”

  “Well, not yet, but someday. I hope.” She pulled the guest chair closer and sat in it. Folding her arms on the desk, she pinned him with an inquisitive stare. “How about you? Ever think about settling down with a wife, two-point-four kids and a dog?”

  One light brown eyebrow twitched up. “Not recently. The job’s kept me on the road more than not, and that’s not conducive to starting a happy home.” He sighed heavily and stared at the desk, his brow creasing. “Although that could be changing soon, if this bogus investigation goes sideways.”

  Acid bit her gut, seeing the pain in his face. “Hey, we’re not in public anymore. Can you tell me what the hell you were accused of and what really happened?”

  He was silent for a moment, the muscles in his jaw working and his thumb tapping restlessly on her notebook. “Yeah, okay.”

  She reached across the desk and squeezed his restless hands in a show of support.

  He seemed not to notice, and his gaze looked distant as he started, “Last year I worked a case in Portland with a female special agent.”

  “Charlotte,” she said, remembering the name he’d mentioned at lunch.

  His eyes flicked briefly to hers. “Yeah, Charlotte. She’s an attractive woman. Tall, toned, in great physical condition for the job. So, yeah, I noticed her in that way.”

  Summer, who was barely five feet when she stretched her back and lifted her chin at the doctor’s office and who hadn’t been hitting the gym quite as routinely as usual, suppressed another spike of distaste for Charlotte.

  “She made it clear, in obvious ways, that she was interested in me, as well. Touches, lingering looks, suggestive comments. So suggestive, in fact, that I started to get uncomfortable. There are rules, both written and unwritten, about getting involved with another agent. I did not want to cross that line and put our careers in jeopardy. I told her that. Repeatedly. To which she replied, ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’”

  Summer growled under her breath, indignant on Nolan’s behalf. The woman did sound like trouble.

  “I stuck by my stance and thought the issue was closed. She backed off some for a couple days, then...” He glanced at her and scratched his chin. “One night she wanted to talk about the case and asked me to come to her room. We did have some matters related to the case to discuss, so I went. Turns out she had a hidden camera in her room and knew just where to stand to be full frame in the shot. She came on to me again. I told her no. Again. She continued kissing me and rubbing up against me, promising me no one would ever find out.”

  Summer squeezed Nolan’s wrists harder, as if she were an anchor. As if she could keep him from sinking in the tidal wave she knew was coming in his story. Her stomach soured, and she tasted bile in the back of her throat.

  Nolan pried a sweaty hand free and scrubbed it on the leg of his jeans. He muttered a curse under his breath. “I was so stupid. I knew better. Should have stuck to my guns, but damn it, she was attractive, and she got me all worked up... I caved. I threw caution to the wind, and we ended up in bed.”

  “Oh,” Summer said quietly, disappointment pinging her. Despite indicators to the contrary, she’d been hoping he would say he’d nobly resisted.

  “Fast-forward to last week, when I was called into my superior’s office. I learned she was alleging I came on to her, that I forced unwanted advances on her and she had photographic evidence to prove it.”

  “She set you up!” Summer said hotly.

  “Oh, it gets better,” he said with a scoff.

  She clenched her teeth, itching to pop Special Agent Charlotte in the kisser.

  He explained how the pictures she’d presented featured images designed to make him appear the aggressor and her the unwilling victim. How he learned that day in his boss’s office that Charlotte was married to a US senator. Ergo suspension, internal investigation, time on his hands to come down to his cousins’ Texas ranch
while the future of his career was decided.

  “Oh, Nolan...” she said, groaning. “What a mess! Damn, I’m sorry. That’s...she’s...ugh!”

  Summer fisted her hands, imagining Charlotte’s neck there. “How dare she! What reason could she have for doing something like this? Accusing someone of rape is...super serious!”

  Nolan’s expression shifted. “That’s another thing that seems...off.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  As he raised his chin to meet her gaze, his eyes narrowed. His mouth pinched. His expression darkened with a deeper concern. “The term rape has never been used. I looked at the paperwork of the formal charges, and rape is not what she is alleging.”

  She blinked, processing this tidbit.

  “Sexual assault is the term being used, and the specifics she lays out of groping, kissing and crude language do not include the sex act per se. Yet she knows full well we...” He paused, as if looking for a polite term, then with a sigh, said, “Slept together. So why stop at calling it groping, when, technically, she could charge rape? I’m sure she has the pictures of us in bed. Then again, the pictures of that act would show her taking the lead, fully capable of getting up and walking away at any time she wanted. I did not force her. Ever.”

  “I don’t know. But...not being charged with rape is a good thing, right?”

  He raised both palms toward her, and his face reflected tremendous relief. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful that isn’t on her list. It’s just curious to me why it isn’t.”