by Cindy Dees
But then Liam asked, “Do you think your ex-husband is capable of hiring someone to harm or kill you?”
She looked at Liam, pleading silently for him to withdraw the question, but he stared back at her implacably.
Finally, she answered reluctantly, “Capable? Yes. Absolutely, I think he is.”
“Why?” he pressed.
She sighed. Liam knew the answer, but she understood that he needed her to state the reason formally. For the record. “Ivan wants custody of our daughter. I’m convinced he doesn’t actually love her or want to raise her, however. To him, Chloe is a trophy. A spoil of war. He knows she means everything to me—therefore he wants to take her away from me. It’s purely spite.”
Liam turned off the recorder. Bailey jumped up and rushed over to Sloane to hug her. “I’m so sorry, Sloane. I had no idea your ex was giving you so much trouble. You should have told us.”
“I still have no proof he’s behind whoever’s stalking me,” Sloane responded.
Fox piped up. “Aww, c’mon, sis. Ivan’s a vindictive SOB and you know it. Always has been, always will be. Quit protecting him.”
“I’m not protecting him!” she exclaimed. “But neither am I accusing him until I have solid evidence.”
Wyatt spoke up. “Either way, we’re protecting you from here on out. You and Chloe are staying here at the ranch until Liam and the police nail your stalker.”
“I don’t want to intrude—” she started.
But Liam interrupted her. “That’s what I was hoping you would say, Wyatt. And Sloane is correct. The attacker might not be Ivan Durant. A young woman who matches Sloane’s description disappeared a while back, and that crime hasn’t been solved. I need you to be suspicious of anyone who doesn’t belong at the ranch or who is acting strangely. It might even be someone you know.”
“What are you saying, Liam?” Sloane asked quickly, her legal instincts on full alert. “Are you saying there’s a serial kidnapper or killer in town?”
“I’m not saying that...not on the record, at least. I’m just asking Wyatt and Fox and Bailey to be extra vigilant and not trust anyone.”
Sloane stared at Liam in dismay. A serial killer in Roaring Springs? Surely not. It was a peaceful, safe town, tucked away in the mountains where things like kidnapping and murder didn’t touch it. She’d moved back here with Chloe for that very reason.
Not to mention, she knew Liam too well. He was indeed implying a serial killer could be on the loose. Was that who’d set her house on fire? Was it a random stranger who’d fixated on her? Or was it something—someone—more sinister? Had Ivan finally cracked and unleashed the violence she’d feared?
Chapter 16
Liam was relieved when a steady stream of family came by the ranch over the next few days to console Sloane on the loss of her house, which had indeed burned to the ground. She needed the company, and he had his hands full trying to figure out who had set fire to her house and quietly helping the sheriff’s department reinvestigate the Bianca Rouge murder and track down April Thomas’s last whereabouts.
It was hard to believe that Roaring Springs had gone from a town that never had any serious crimes to being the home of a murderer and an arsonist all at once. Both investigations had him working eighteen-hour days.
Liam stopped by the Crooked C Ranch every evening to visit Sloane. It had been decided that she and Chloe would stay with Wyatt and Bailey so Bailey could help Sloane with Chloe. He usually grabbed a bite to eat and updated Sloane on his investigation of who hired Bill Gunther to stalk her. Which was going nowhere.
Her house had definitely been torched. The preliminary finding by the arson investigator from Denver was that a hole had been drilled in the exterior wall of Sloane’s bedroom, gasoline had been poured through it onto the floor of her bedroom, and the pool of gas had then been set on fire. It had definitely been an attempt to murder her.
Would Ivan Durant try to kill his own daughter? Did the fact that Chloe was in the house rule out Ivan as the arsonist?
The only way for Ivan to be behind the fire was if he thought the fire department would get to the house in time to contain the fire before it burned through the utility room and hall bathroom to reach Chloe. It was a calculated risk of Chloe’s life...but then, Sloane had stated on more than one occasion that Ivan didn’t particularly care for Chloe. Liam had seen that himself when Ivan hadn’t come to visit Chloe in the hospital during her life-threatening illness.
Jerk.
Personally, he couldn’t get enough of Chloe. She was arguably the cutest two-year-old ever put on the planet. She had her mother’s huge eyes, and blond pigtails that just begged to be flipped. She was a bright, loving, funny kid and a joy to be around. There was nothing quite as heartwarming as a hug from her little arms and a sticky kiss on the cheek. Ivan Durant was a complete idiot not to see all of that.
Liam couldn’t cross Ivan off the list of arson suspects nor off the list of people who could have hired Gunther to spy on Sloane.
Tonight, for supper, they were digging into a brisket Bailey and Sloane had spent all day smoking. The meat was fork tender and delicious.
“Any progress in the case today?” Sloane asked him.
“Which case?”
She rolled her beautiful eyes at him.
“We spent the day at The Lodge asking the staff if anyone remembered seeing April Thomas as a guest or coming there for a job interview. It was a bust. That place has so many guests pass through it that the staff wouldn’t remember her if she’d been there last week, let alone last year.”
“Not to mention, a lot of the guests are young, beautiful women,” Sloane added.
“That, too.”
“Any word on my fire?”
“Nothing new to report. I talked to several of your neighbors, and none of them saw or heard anything that night. How are you holding up?”
Sloane nodded but her face reflected disappointment. “Life is returning to normal. The stream of visitors has slowed down, thank goodness.”
Liam grinned. “That’s what you get for being a Colton. You have a huge family that rallies around you in a crisis.”
“And sticks its nose into every corner of my business,” she retorted.
Fox spoke up. “Aww, c’mon. You know you love all of us.”
Sloane smiled at her brother. “Fine. I love all of you.” A pause. “Most of the time.”
That set off a round of ribbing and joking that Liam mostly stayed out of. He spent the time studying Sloane while she was distracted, lecturing her brother about how he’d messed up her social life in high school, and she had yet to forgive him for it.
Her skin looked more transparent than usual, and she had violet shadows under her eyes. She wasn’t sleeping well. He wished he could gather her into his arms, whisper to her that she was safe, and let her sleep about twelve hours uninterrupted on top of him. But he wasn’t about to shack up with her under Wyatt and Bailey’s roof or under her brother’s nose. He and Fox were good friends but not that good.
“I’ll go kiss Chloe good-night,” he announced.
As had become his nightly habit, he ducked into the toddler’s bedroom. She was waiting for him, pretending to be asleep. One bright blue eye opened and then closed again fast.
“Saw you, Squirt,” he chuckled. “Were you waiting for a kiss from me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How was your day today? Did you do anything fun?”
“I fed horseys.”
“Sounds fun. What did you feed them?”
“Kah-wuts.”
“Did the horses like the carrots?”
“Uh-huh.”
Chloe sounded sleepy, and he’d learned not to rouse the extroverted toddler too much, or it would be another hour before she went down for the night.
“Need me to check un
der your bed for monsters?”
“Uh-huh.” A thumb went into her cherry-red mouth.
He duly got down on his knees and peered under the bed. “No monsters. And now that I’ve been here, none will dare mess with you. You’re good to go for the rest of the night, kiddo.”
Chloe held her arms out to him and he leaned down for a hug. “I wub you, Lee-Mum.”
Liam froze. His heart felt full to bursting...and then it did burst, in an explosion of incredible joyousness. “I love you, too, Chloe. You’re the best ever.”
He returned the hug carefully—after all, she was a tiny little thing like her mother—and kissed Chloe’s cheek gently. Chloe wanted to kiss his cheek back, and he turned his head for her. As he did so, he spotted Sloane leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed, watching the exchange. A soft smile wreathed her face.
He pulled the covers up around Chloe’s ears and gave them a tuck. “Sweet dreams, princess.”
He backed out into the hallway, and Sloane closed the door behind him.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“For what?”
“For being a decent male role model to Chloe.”
He shrugged modestly. “She’s awesome.”
“I happen to think so, too.”
He dropped a light kiss on the end of her nose. “You’re supposed to think she’s great. You’re her mom. As for me, I’m an impartial stranger. So my opinion is the one that counts. And your kid is the bomb.”
Sloane’s lips curved up against his. “Has anyone told you today that you’re pretty fantastic yourself?”
“Nope. Not a soul.”
“Well, you are.”
“God, I’d love to scoop you up, throw you in my truck and take you back to my place for a long, sleepless night.”
She groaned under her breath. “Don’t tempt me. That sounds amazing.”
“Soon. I’m going to find your stalker, and then we’ll catch up on everything we’re missing now.”
“That’s a deal, Detective.”
It was his turn to groan in frustration. “I’m going to leave now, or else I’m going to do something that will make your brother have to pound me senseless.”
“He likes you, you know.”
Liam looped his arm over her shoulder and resolutely started walking toward the front door. “I know Fox likes me. We’ve been best friends for twenty years.”
“No. I mean he likes you as someone for me to be with.”
Liam stopped in front of the door and turned to stare down at her. “For real?”
“Yes. He said so last night. He said you’re good for me.”
“Sonofagun. I didn’t think any guy would ever be good enough for his little sister.”
“Apparently, you pass muster.”
“I’ll take it. I gotta go work on getting rid of your stalker now so we can be together and test your brother’s restraint.”
“Promise me you’ll get at least a little sleep tonight.”
“Not a wink. I’m going to be thinking of you all night.”
Laughing, she kissed him one more time and then pushed him out the front door. It was a bitter cold night and he didn’t linger at the door where Sloane would get chilled. He hurried to his truck and jumped in. But despite the cold, she was standing in the door, watching him wistfully as he pulled away into the night.
Yeah. He knew the feeling. It was killing him not to be with her, too.
Soon. Very soon, he would catch her stalker. And then they were going to light up the whole damned night with fireworks.
* * *
Liam was too busy to come out to the ranch the next day, and by the following day, Sloane was totally out of sorts. She understood that he was elbow deep in several important police investigations, but she still missed his steady, easy presence. Chloe was cranky that she didn’t get her good-night kiss from Lee-Mum, and all in all, it was a lousy day.
The next day dawned cloudy and gray. The clouds were heavy, and a storm was forecast for later. Wyatt and Fox rode out to do a head count of the herd and to make sure all the cattle and horses were pulled into the near pasture just behind the barns before blizzard conditions set in. A few cattle always strayed from the herd, and the guys would be busy all day finding them and herding them down to the safety of the valley near the barns.
Snow started falling in the early afternoon. It started with a few fat flakes drifting in lazy pendulum swings toward the ground. But within an hour, snow was coming down heavily, accumulating in thick piles on every horizontal surface.
Bailey stood at the kitchen sink, staring worriedly out the window, waiting for any sign of Wyatt and Fox to return.
Taking pity on her, Sloane said, “Why don’t you ride a snowmobile out and see if Wyatt and Fox need you to break a path through the snow for their horses? I’ll hold down the fort here until you get back.”
“I hate to leave you alone—”
“My stalker isn’t going out in a storm like this. I’m fine. Take care of your man. And bring my brother home, too.”
Bailey nodded and flew out of the kitchen to don warm clothes before heading out.
Sloane made a big pot of stew and played with Chloe through the afternoon. Chloe went down late for a nap, and Sloane noticed the fading daylight. It was time to feed the horses, but there was no sign of Wyatt, Fox or Bailey. She would just sneak out and feed the horses while Chloe was asleep. Tucking the baby monitor in the pocket of her coat, she tromped out to the barn.
Snowflakes landed on her cheeks and eyelashes, and the Rocky Mountains were gorgeous, clothed in their winter finery. She breathed deeply of the icy air, enjoying the burn of it in her lungs. She was home. And things were going to turn out all right. Liam would catch her stalker, and then the two of them would figure out where the heated connection between them was going.
It was hard to believe that a few short weeks ago she’d been convinced she would never love again—
Her thoughts skidded to a shocked halt and she stopped in the knee-deep snow. She loved Liam.
She’d known it when she watched him tuck in Chloe and smile like his heart was breaking with joy when Little Bug told him she loved him.
He didn’t care that Chloe was another man’s child. He seemed to understand how precious and innocent a gift the love of a child was. He’d been humbled by Chloe’s love, and obviously returned it. Sloane had heard the sincerity in his voice when he’d told Chloe he loved her, too.
He was, in a word, perfect.
She resumed walking, her own heart lighter than the snowflakes around her. She pushed open the big barn door enough to slip inside and headed for the feed room. Something big and dark jumped out at her from the shadows, and that was the last thing she remembered.
* * *
Smoke. She smelled smoke. Groggy, she registered that she was waking up. She must have dreamed about the house fire again. It had been a recurring nightmare ever since that night.
She dreamed of waking up in her bedroom, surrounded by fire, unable to break through the wall of flames to rescue Chloe. It was what the stalker had planned for her, and only luck had prevented her from living that nightmare for real.
Her eyes blinked open, and flames licked at the wooden ceiling overhead through a thick blanket of gray-black smoke. Yup. That would have been what her bedroom ceiling looked like. The searing heat on her face. The burning in her lungs—
She sat up, and the walls around her swirled wildly. Whoa.
Wait a minute. This wasn’t her bedroom. It was the feed room.
And this wasn’t a dream.
She tried to stand up, but her head throbbed violently, like she’d been hit with a heavy object, and she was so dizzy she could hardly sit upright, let alone jump up and run for her life. She did the only thing she could think of and screamed at
the top of her lungs.
Not again.
She wasn’t facing being burned to a crisp again.
She had to move. Had to get out of here, legs or no legs.
Sloane rolled onto her belly and dragged herself across the concrete floor of the feed room by her elbows. Her legs weren’t entirely useless, and she dug in with her toes to push herself along. She made it almost to the door and started to feel a bit stronger. She ventured to push up onto her hands and knees, and her strength held. She crawled to the door, and remembering the burn she’d gotten on her bedroom doorknob, only briefly touched her knuckle to the metal.
It wasn’t hot.
She reached up and turned the knob, and gasped as the barn alleyway came into view. The entire ceiling was on fire. It appeared that the hayloft was completely engulfed in flames. Oh, God. The horses.
Their screams and panicked kicks as they fought to get out of their stalls and run for their lives reverberated over the now familiar roar of the fire.
Sloane dragged herself to her feet using the door for support. The barn spun around her, and she blinked hard, trying unsuccessfully to clear her vision. Must. Get. Out.
Chloe.
That one word, that one thought, of her daughter, was all the motivation she needed. She felt her way along the wall, stumbling forward step-by-step toward the exit.
A black shape rushed at her and she recoiled. No! The attacker couldn’t knock her out again! She had to get to her baby.
“Sloane!” a male voice shouted.
Fox.
“I’m here!” she called back, coughing too much to project much sound.
But it was enough. The black shape resolved into her brother. He raced forward, wrapped his arm around her waist, and ran her toward the barn door.
“The horses!” she cried.
“Wyatt’s opening the stall doors. I’ll go back and help him make sure all the horses run. Get up to the house. Bailey’s got a shotgun.”
What? A shotgun?
Oh. Her stalker. He or she might still be here on the ranch, somewhere, waiting to make sure she died in the fire this time.