Colton Nursery Hideout

by Dana Nussio

“Do you have anything more to tell me?”

  Tatiana considered for a few seconds, and then she told her about the phone call from her father. Once the words were spoken, she was relieved, too. Even if it still felt like a betrayal of her father, she believed it was the right thing to do.

  “What about those?” Melissa pointed to the vase of pink flowers on the counter. “Is there anything I should know about them?”

  “No.” That she’d almost said not yet made her cheeks burn. Soon enough, they would all know about the newest Colton baby. “Doesn’t have anything to do with my dad.”

  “Pretty.”

  Melissa studied her for several seconds. “Well, thanks for helping us out. We need to take Mr. Davison into custody as soon as possible.”

  “I hope you find them.”

  Melissa tilted her head and watched her. “Why did you decide to tell me about the flowers from your father now? My detectives followed up on that florist, and the trail went dead almost immediately.”

  Tatiana glanced out the window, where it had begun to snow again. “Travis has done an awful lot for me, and I haven’t done much to show that I appreciated his faith in me, whether it was earned or not. He’s also had to take a lot of questioning from family members. I just want to make sure that everyone knows what an amazing brother and cousin you all have. And he didn’t make a mistake to help me get on my feet.”

  By the time that Tatiana was finished, the corners of Melissa’s mouth were turned up. “Where’s my brother?”

  “I don’t know. He left.”

  Melissa closed her notebook and stood. “Well, when he gets back, you might want to be sure to tell him something important.”

  Instead of telling her that she wasn’t sure when he would be coming back, she asked, “What’s that?”

  Melissa didn’t look up from the engagement ring on her left hand. “That you’re in love with him.”

  * * *

  Travis stepped inside his parents’ house two hours after he’d left Tatiana at his condo. The lengthy drive had been necessary for him to work up the courage to go home again, especially with this request.

  “Clarke, are you out there?” Frank called from the back of the house. When he didn’t receive an answer immediately, he called out again. “Stanton, is that you?”

  “It’s me, Dad. It’s Travis.”

  “Oh. Hey, son.” Frank appeared from the arched hallway. “Don’t usually expect to see you in the middle of the day. Who’s watching the store at Colton Plastics?”

  “I didn’t expect to see you at home, either, Dad.” Hoped was a better word for it, but he didn’t want to start a fight this soon.

  “Wait. You didn’t come to tell me that CP went belly-up, did you?” Frank pointed to Travis’s duffel that he’d set next to the front door and chuckled.

  “As a matter of fact, I didn’t. Wait. You aren’t announcing that you’re taking forced retirement, are you?”

  His father’s features shifted when Travis’s joke struck him: a low blow.

  “Ouch. What was that all about?” Frank asked him.

  “Just joking around, like you.” Leaving the bag by the door, Travis hung his coat in the closet.

  “Didn’t feel like a joke. I’ve been doing some work from home.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” He crossed through the tunnel hallway to the back of the house and spoke over his shoulder. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Hair appointment.”

  Great. No one to run interference. On the long dining room table, Frank had spread a couple binders open next to his laptop. Travis leaned against the clear end of the table.

  “What’s the bag for?” Frank asked when he reached him.

  “I was wondering if I could stay here a few days.”

  “What’s the matter with your house? Heard that Stanton has been guarding your pretty guest there.”

  He pushed away from the table and started for the front door again. “Just forget it.”

  “Travis, stop. Talk to me.”

  He halted but didn’t turn around.

  “Have a seat. There’s coffee in the pot.”

  Travis considered for a moment and then turned back and lowered into one of the chairs. His father stepped into the kitchen and returned with two steaming cups. For a few minutes, they both sipped in silence.

  “What’s going on?” his father asked finally.

  “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Can’t do what? You mean having Miss Davison in your condo?”

  “I mean with you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Frank drew his brows together as if he didn’t know what his son meant. Travis might have bought it if he didn’t know better.

  “Is this about what your mom was telling me the other day? That you think I don’t support you?”

  “Mom told you?”

  Frank’s lips lifted. “We’ve been married a lot of years. We don’t keep secrets.”

  “Then, yes, it’s about that.” Travis had picked up his cup, needing the caffeine after a night of little sleep, but he lowered it without taking a sip. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick a heroic gig like my brothers and sister or follow you into the shipping business. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment. That I routinely make huge mistakes in my business and life that you feel compelled to tell me about.”

  Frank shook his head, appearing perplexed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  But this had been coming for a long time, and Travis was on a downhill roll. He didn’t even want to stop it.

  “You might not know this, but my company is a fricking success. It’s publicly traded, for God’s sake. It’s large enough now to warrant having co-CEOs.”

  Travis would have said more, but his father started shaking his head, his usual smile flattening into a straight line.

  “I’m so sorry, son. I’ve allowed my worries to make you feel as if I’m not proud of you. That’s just the opposite of the truth. I couldn’t be prouder. Instead of just having pipe dreams like the rest of us, you’ve turned your idea into an amazing company.”

  Travis could only stare at his father, words he’d never expected to come from the man’s mouth spilling freely. Worries? Tatiana and his mother had been right that Frank’s suggestions had been more about parental concern than second-guessing, even if he hadn’t presented them well.

  “But I thought...”

  “I’m just sorry I ever made you think I wasn’t solidly in your corner. That’s where I am. Always.”

  Travis could find no words, so he lifted his cup and took three long sips in succession before lowering it again.

  Frank blew out a long, slow breath. “You’ll find out what it’s like someday if you’re ever a parent, but it’s hard to get past that instinct to shield your kids from things that will hurt them. Including failure. But we forget sometimes that through failure our kids learn how to succeed.”

  “Dad, you know I’m thirty-four, right?”

  Frank shrugged, his smile back in place. “You’ll always be my kid.”

  His father drank down his coffee, which had to be cold now, and then set the cup aside. “So, are you ready to tell me what’s really bothering you this morning? It has to do with Miss Davison, right?”

  “Her name’s Tatiana.”

  Frank grinned. “What is the issue with Tatiana, then?”

  Travis considered for a few seconds and then decided just to put it out there. “She lied to me about information she had regarding her fugitive father’s whereabouts. Now I can’t trust her. I can’t be with a liar. Unfortunately, I’m still in love with her.”

  He waited for the fatherly warning to pour out, but Frank only nodded. “Tough spot.”

  “It’s just like Aubrey.” Travis shook h
is head, the memory of those mistakes still shaming him. “You warned me. You knew she was a liar and a cheater. That she was only after the money I hadn’t even made yet. I just didn’t see it.”

  “Are those situations that much alike?”

  Travis took another sip of his coffee, so cold now that he had to gag it down. “They both lied.”

  “But you said this young woman was trying to protect her father. We can’t help who our parents are, and you should know as well as anyone that we can’t help but to love them despite their shortcomings.” He put his hand to his chest as a reminder that they’d just discussed his. “Can you blame her for loving her dad?”

  Travis lowered his chin to his chest and shoved both hands back through his hair. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to figure this one out all on your own.”

  “No fatherly suggestions?”

  Frank shook his head. “Not this time. You’re the one who has to decide if she’s worth the trouble and what sacrifices you’re willing to make. Only you know those things.”

  Travis nodded, realizing he already knew the answers to those questions. Whether he was brave enough to follow through with his convictions was still a question, though.

  “One more thing, Dad.”

  “There’s more?”

  “I am going to be a father. Later this year.”

  “Well, congratulations. And I look forward to meeting the baby’s mother.”

  Neither bothered mentioning the obvious thing: that the woman he’d been so upset about and the mom-to-be were one and the same. Frank rounded the table and hugged his son, something he rarely did. He might have said more, but the beep of the security system announced the front door had opened, and voices could be heard from the entry. Frank returned to his seat.

  “Can you keep that to yourself for just a few days? I have some things to figure out before I go public with it.”

  His father nodded as his mother and Clarke reached them.

  “What’s going on here? And what’s that bag by the door?” Clarke asked.

  Frank stood and stepped over to drop a kiss on Italia’s cheek and compliment her on her hair.

  “Travis is going to visit for a few days,” he announced. “That’ll be great, right?”

  “That’s wonderful,” Italia agreed as she stepped over to greet him with air kisses.

  Clarke and Travis exchanged a handshake.

  “You’re staying here? I thought Stanton’s team was guarding both you and Tatiana at your place,” Clarke said.

  “Long story.”

  The oldest Colton brother grinned. “Those are always the best kind.”

  Travis was relieved when Clarke’s phone pinged before he had the chance to ask questions.

  Clarke pulled it from his pocket and hurried from the room to make a call. When he returned, Travis sent him a curious look.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Randall Bowe, the GGPD’s forensic scientist who’s been on the run, is playing a game of cat-and-mouse with police right now. He sent a group text to several officers from a burner phone.” He pulled out his smartphone again and swiped through a few screens. “Melissa forwarded it to me.”

  He held it out so his brother and parents could see it.

  You’ll never catch me. Sinners never prosper.

  Travis shivered involuntarily. Bowe was playing God and the courts all at once. Len Davison and who knew how many other suspects were free though they were guilty, or incarcerated despite their innocence, because of choices Bowe had made.

  “At least that will give the investigators something new to look at in the case,” Clarke said. “Oh, and Melissa told me Troy’s going to be revving up his search for Bowe’s brother, Baldwin.”

  The search for Randall Bowe was fascinating, but Travis was far more interested in two other investigations right now. Both involved the same woman. So, he retreated to his childhood room to think and regroup. He might not have been with her just then, but he was every bit as committed to help stop those who might hurt her.

  Chapter 22

  Travis parked in front of the tiny Grave Gulch Book Shop late that afternoon and hurried to the glass storefront. Why it had taken him so long to figure out this connection, he wasn’t sure. He’d been lying back on top of the twin bed in his childhood room, rereading copies of the emails from “Daddy,” when some of the information inspired him to do a little research of his own. Now, though he still hadn’t figured out who Polly was, he had a good idea where he could learn more about “macabre heroes.”

  “Welcome to Grave Gulch Book Shop,” called out an enthusiastic clerk with Henry on his name tag. “May I help you find something?”

  “Hello, Henry. I’m Travis. I’ve just recently gotten into reading true-crime books. Do you have a section of those?”

  “Do we ever.” The clerk guided him to a tiny, clearly marked section, just over from the storage room door. “Do you have an area you’re particularly interested in?”

  “Definitely serial killers.”

  The clerk moved through the section and pulled out a few titles, stacking them in Travis’s arms.

  “Oh, while you’re here, Henry, I’ve been thinking about starting a true-crime book club. Do you know of any clubs in Grave Gulch? I wouldn’t want to reinvent the wheel if there’s already a group I could join.”

  Henry tapped his index finger to his lips, closing his eyes. Then he opened them again.

  “You’re in luck. I’m pretty sure yours will be the first in the area. At least if there is a true-crime group locally, the members aren’t ordering their books here.”

  Travis rubbed his hands together. “Great. Now you don’t happen to know anyone who might be interested in joining a group like this, do you? I’ll post notices at the library and Grave Gulch Coffee and Treats, but I figured since you would be an expert on your readers’ genre choices, you might be able to suggest potential members.”

  “I think I might have someone. My boss doesn’t like us giving out names or information about our customers, but I don’t think he’ll mind this time.” He crossed to the cash register and flipped through a traditional business card file. “This is it. Dylan Evans.”

  Travis’s arms jerked, and he had to juggle to keep from dropping the books. “Dylan Evans?” Somehow, he kept his voice from squeaking, but his limbs felt frozen in place. The little weasel was supposed to be working on upgrading the computer systems through the IT department, not using all that access to stalk the woman Travis loved.

  “Yeah, as many true-crime books as he purchases, he’s probably got a great library of them at home,” Henry said.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see it. You don’t happen to have an address for Dylan, do you?”

  “Sorry. I know my boss would frown on that. But I can tell you that Dylan works at Colton Plastics. I saw his work badge, which I’m sure isn’t a secret.”

  “Oh. Thanks so much. I’ll be sure to get in contact with him.”

  Travis started re-shelving the books one by one.

  “Are you, uh, going to buy any of those?” Henry asked.

  Travis grinned. “Of course.”

  He handed Henry the two remaining titles and went to check out at the only cash register. He used cash. No use having Dylan know that he was on to him if he came in to buy books.

  Once Travis was outside the shop, he had to force himself to wait until he reached his car before making his first call. Melissa answered on the second ring.

  “This had better be a social call, little brother. Remember, this is my personal cell. I already had your girlfriend ask me to come over to the condo today to give me details—”

  His mind caught on the word girlfriend, but he couldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t worry about anything else until he ensured tha
t Tatiana and their child were safe.

  “I know who he is,” he blurted.

  “The suspect?”

  Travis put the call on the car’s audio system, pulled out of the parking space and drove down Grave Gulch Boulevard, forcing himself not to speed. “His name is Dylan Evans. He works in my IT department. I’m getting ready to call Stanton to have his team lock down Colton Plastics. Could you send some patrol cars?”

  As soon as he ended the call, he gave the verbal command to phone Stanton.

  “Got updates?” his brother barked into the phone when he answered.

  “I have a name. Dylan Evans. I need you to lock down the whole building until he can be located. I don’t care if it’s five o’clock. He’s in the IT department. I also need his address off the file in HR.”

  “I’ve got some news for you, then.”

  Dread crept up his back like a steadily spreading ice-water spill. “What is it?”

  “I’m at the security station. Evans signed out of the office for the day before noon. The form here says ‘illness.’”

  “Damn! I’m headed to the condo.”

  “Why weren’t you already there?” Stanton asked.

  “I’ll explain later.”

  “Luke’s on duty.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  He hung up without saying goodbye and then tried Tatiana’s cell. That one went to voice mail. His heart beating furiously, he dialed Luke from his contacts. Voice mail again.

  “If you hurt her, you son of a bitch...” he breathed through gritted teeth.

  His last call was to his sister again.

  “She’s not answering, and Dylan left the office around lunchtime.” Even he could hear the panic in his voice.

  “Now calm down,” Melissa said. “She might just be away from her phone.”

  “Stanton’s team member isn’t picking up, either.”

  “Oh.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “I’m headed to your place. Don’t go inside until I get there.”

  Since Melissa went in without the siren or lights and had to maintain regular speed, Travis reached the condo first. He immediately noticed that although Luke’s car was still parked on the street out front, no one was inside it. Deciding against entering through the garage, Travis parked in the driveway and rushed up the front walk.