by Addison Fox
Work made even harder by the fact that the killer had honed his skills over many years. He no doubt was eating up the news coverage reporting daily on his crimes. And it was Trey Colton who represented capture if he found a way to end the Avalanche Killer’s ride to fame and glory.
Chapter 5
“You look like hell.”
Trey looked up from his desk to see his cheerful baby sister, Bree, staring back at him. Her long curly hair was pulled back—a clear sign she was working—but it didn’t stop the riot of curls from falling down her back.
“Thanks, Bree.”
“Welcome.” She practically danced around his office, a fairy sprite of electric happiness, as she took in the surroundings. Her gaze narrowed on an oversize frame on the far wall of his office. “Why is that piece crooked?”
“Earthquake?” Trey offered up, smiling at the way her golden-brown eyes—a match for his own—narrowed.
“I painted that just for you.”
Trey’s gaze roamed over the wolf that stared out into the broad expanse of Colorado wilderness. “I know you did and I love it. And before you think I don’t take care of my things, my deputies were in here this morning for a briefing. There were so many of them a few leaned against the wall and it must have tilted the painting a bit. It doesn’t usually look like that.”
All censure vanished from her manner and she whirled back to look at him, the painting forgotten. “All your deputies? Things are that bad?”
“They’re not good,” Trey confirmed. “The governor’s even getting concerned.”
Those golden eyes widened in surprise and Bree came around his desk to give him a hug. “I’m sorry for the comment that you look bad. It was insensitive.”
“It’s true.”
She leaned forward and laid a hand over his cheek, the same concern he always saw in his mother’s gaze reflected in hers. “It’s just rare I ever see my big brother with the slightest bit of scruff on his face and here you have a few days of growth.”
“It’s only one day.” Trey patted her hand. “I’m considering a new look.”
The ready snort came winging back in his direction as she dropped her hand. “You haven’t had a different look since you were able to grow a beard.”
“Maybe it’s time to start.”
Bree wasn’t fooled by his casual dismissal, her gaze once more narrowing in on his face. Although nine years separated them, he rarely was able to pull one over on her. She was perceptive and bright and she cared passionately for her family.
Which nearly had him blurting out his whole misstep with Aisha and the proposal the night before. His best friend had dismissed him outright and it had only made him more determined to get her to see reason and accept his harebrained scheme.
Proposal.
Trey mentally shook his head at all the word implied. Rings. Sex. Forever.
His mind lingered on each in turn and before it could linger too long on the image of his best friend naked, he shifted gears.
Fast.
“Engagement looks good on you.”
“I know.” Bree whirled around the desk before plopping down in one of his government-issued office chairs with a hard thunk. She barely gave the slim chair frame and lack of padding a glance, her happiness that great. “And even though there’s so much going on and I’m worried about everyone, you most of all, I’m happy. Way-down-deep happy. How weird is that?”
It wasn’t weird. Not at all.
Bree might have an open heart and a deep love for her family, but she didn’t trust others beyond their core family unit easily. Her creativity had always made her more intuitive than most, and coupled with the challenges of their broader Colton relatives, she didn’t let people in easily. Rylan Bennet had somehow found a way past all that and had shown Bree a new path.
“Now. I know you’re not here to talk about my decorating skills. What do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“Mom thinks you’re working too hard and wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow night.”
What would she think if she found out I had someone following me through Roaring Springs last night?
His mind had been so full of thoughts of Aisha he hadn’t given the street-level watch much consideration, but he needed to. Who was following him? Because he’d been in law enforcement long enough to know that was exactly what was going on yesterday.
Mentally vowing to discuss it with Daria, he smiled at his sister, deliberately keeping his tone gentle. “Mom’s right. That still doesn’t mean she can order me up or make you do her dirty work.”
“Come on, Trey. She worries about you. And she figured if I gave you the doe eyes and the guilt you’d come.”
“Both traits you inherited from her.” Trey considered his baby sister. Although she had the same lighter skin he did, a perfect blend of their parents, her build and features were practically carbon copies of their mother. “Along with her Machiavellian streak of believing she’s entitled to always get what she wants.”
Bree shrugged. “Dad spoils her, what can we say?”
“Like Rylan spoils you?”
The mention of her fiancé had the desired impact, and his sister was out of her chair again, roaming the room as if nothing could hold her still. Growing up with an artist, he’d always understood her mercurial personality was a side effect of her creative gifts. And despite the age difference between them, from the moment his parents had brought her home, Trey had seen the ethereal beauty that was Bree. The wide-eyed baby had grown into an active, curious child and then on into a wildly creative young adult. His mother had understood how to channel it, giving Bree space on their ranch that was hers alone. To paint. To dream. To create.
And from that, she’d built her life’s work. Her Wise Gal gallery was one of the most popular businesses in Roaring Springs and the vandalism and threats on her business the spring before had been firmly put behind her. She’d even found her future husband from the ashes of that pain. Now she looked forward to her future and Trey couldn’t be happier for her.
That happiness dimmed a bit as Bree stopped pacing and turned toward him, the wolf she’d created on high alert over her shoulder. “Has there been any news of Skye?”
“Nothing yet. Phoebe hoped going public with her relationship with Prescott would draw her out but she hasn’t made contact yet.”
“Mom and Dad have been over at Uncle Russ and Aunt Mara’s house quite a bit. Mara’s sick over it all. She keeps going back and forth between being sad and upset over Sabrina’s death and grateful Skye wasn’t a part of the discovery on the mountain.” Bree hesitated, the rush of energy she came in with fading in the reality of all their family faced. “It’s weird how this all has made Dad and Uncle Russ closer.”
“I’d say it’s a shame it’s taken such horrible crimes for the Coltons to come together as a family.”
“I know.” She glanced down at her left hand and the ring sparkling there. “There are times I wonder why Rylan wants to marry into it all.”
“He wants to marry you, Bree.” Trey leaned forward, the need to make her understand that suddenly urgent. “Wonderful, awesome you. The rest of us Coltons are just family baggage along for the ride.”
“You’d think I’d be used to it by now. But every day he surprises me.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It’s the best thing.” Bree smiled. “I always envied how close you and Aisha are. It’s like you can read each other’s thoughts. And I never thought I’d meet another person who could do that. But then I’m with Rylan and it’s so easy. Natural.”
Where had that come from?
Trey searched Bree’s face, suddenly paranoid that his sister had read something in his demeanor. Or worse, had somehow heard that Aisha had disregarded his suggestion they couple up to help his election chances.
> Careful, he tried to step through the land mine Bree had just set down on the middle of his office floor. “You think Aisha and I are natural? Together, I mean.”
“Well, yeah. Anyone who’s spent more than five minutes with the two of you knows how much chemistry you have.”
“But I’m not marrying Aisha.”
“Sure. But I mean...well. She’s your bestie.”
“She is.”
That impulse rose up again, and Trey was tempted to spill his guts to his sister. But something still held him back.
He and Aisha didn’t have a relationship like Bree and Rylan. Or like his parents. They were best friends, but that didn’t mean they were compatible as a couple.
If they were, wouldn’t she have approached his proposal differently? That question had haunted him since he’d introduced the whole idea.
“Trey. You okay?” Bree’s gaze searched his face. “You went somewhere there.”
“Sure. I’m good. And I will come to Mom and Dad’s tomorrow night.”
“While we’re on the subject, bring Aisha with you. I haven’t seen her in a while and I miss her.”
“I’ll ask her if she’s free. It is Saturday night. She might have a date.”
“Well, yeah, sure.” Bree hesitated for a moment, the carefree attitude she’d breezed in with fading. “That doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
Even as the denial left his lips, Trey knew otherwise. The idea of Aisha on a date with some strange guy did bother him. He’d always sort of accepted she dated, but now that he was faced with accepting that and actually acknowledging it out loud, he realized he didn’t want to.
Only what was he supposed to do about it?
No matter how he twisted or turned it, he’d asked the woman to be his fiancée and she’d said no. Even as a practical, slightly devious way to fix a problem, she wasn’t interested in getting on that train with him.
Why would she ever want to do it for real?
And why, after nearly thirty years in each other’s lives, did that suddenly seem like a tragedy?
* * *
It had been a full day since her conversation with Trey and Aisha still hadn’t quite recovered. Even now, more than twenty-four hours later, she was still dazed and confused. A state that had been reinforced by how often she caught herself staring into the distance.
Like now.
Her focus returned to the cream-colored walls of her kitchen and her pinging oven timer. She opened the door and checked the brownies—his favorites—with a toothpick. At the confirmation that dessert was done, she pulled it out, her thoughts already back on their discussion the night before.
“Engaged?” she wondered aloud.
Fake engaged, her conscience quickly taunted back.
Still, real or fake, it would be announced to the world. Had the man gone out of his mind?
She understood the pressure he was under. A murder in Bradford County would be stressful enough, but he was dealing with seven of them. His family had been seemingly under attack since the new year and he now also faced a threat to his job. Putting her more romantic feelings aside, Trey Colton had been her best friend since they were eight. She knew him. And she knew the current situation was eating him up.
But was an engagement really the answer?
Leaving the brownies to cool, she crossed back to her kitchen table and the photos that had consumed her off-hours. Or that had consumed her off-hours until Trey’s bombshell.
Seven women.
It was alarming how often that thought kept going round and round in her mind. Although her primary concentration was slanted toward patient work and positive outcomes with therapy, she’d done plenty of study in her undergraduate and graduate degrees on psychopathic personalities. The unique mix of raging need and lack of remorse or empathy was a hallmark of the disorder.
And disturbingly evident in each photo she reviewed.
Who would do this? Was it someone who walked among them here in Roaring Springs? And if it was a person they all knew, how scary was it to think they’d hid such violent behavior for so many years?
Aisha had every confidence Trey would find the culprit. He had determination on his side and a commitment to his job that was unparalleled. But what if it took a while to catch the killer? The man—and professionally she knew that was the most likely choice—had eluded capture this long. He might be on a downward spiral but he wasn’t to be underestimated.
What if it took so long Trey was voted out of office in the meantime?
The thought of that alternative—a world where Trey wasn’t able to do the job that mattered so much to him—was difficult to imagine. She could still remember the night of the last election and how they all sat around his parents’ house, waiting for the voting results to be tallied. The call had come in around ten and they’d all celebrated until the middle of the night. The happiness had been palpable, each of them excited for Trey, for his future and for the people of Bradford County who’d just elected a man who would always put their safety and well-being above all else.
Now he had to defend his reputation and his position against a man who appeared to have the disposition of a rattlesnake. And a rather disturbing racist streak.
She hadn’t missed Evigan’s dig the other night at the town hall, nor had she missed it the last few times he’d made public comments about Trey. After all these years, it still hurt. A wild slap in the moment, and then a sting that lingered in a constant state of frustrated sadness.
But that was also part of what had made her and Trey so close.
Growing up, there hadn’t been many children of color at school. That had changed over the past few years as Roaring Springs had—thankfully—become more diverse, but a quarter century ago things were different. She wasn’t shunned outright but she wasn’t the first kid chosen for sports or the one with a circle of friends out at the playground. To compensate, she’d taken to reading during those periods and had her nose shoved in her latest obsession, Trixie Belden’s adventures with her best friends and fellow mystery solvers, the Bob-Whites.
Then one day, it all changed. The boy with the golden-brown eyes she’d noticed in the hallways had sat down next to her. She had a favorite spot on the far side of the playground, off by herself and away from the teams she was never selected first for. Her own self-appointed haven on the steps of a small slide someone in her class had declared was for babies and which forevermore remained untouched.
Then, that one day, she’d felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up into those serious eyes.
And she saw a friend.
“What are you reading?”
“A mystery.”
“Is it a good one?”
It was her favorite one. A mystery involving emeralds missing since the Civil War and a race to find them against a rather unpleasant bad guy. She’d read it three times now and each time she understood how the author had layered in clues along the way.
“I like it.”
“That’s a big book. No one else in our class reads books that big.”
Aisha knew she was ahead of everyone on that count but didn’t know what to say. The statement was matter-of-fact and it didn’t sound like he was making fun of her, but you never knew. People liked to act like they were saying nice things to you but there was really something not nice underneath. It happened to her mom a lot and it bothered her.
She was still trying to assess his motives when he spoke again, wedging himself in next to her on the step. “I think it’s cool. I tried one but I’m not ready to read it yet. So my mom got me a heap of comic books and said we’d read them together. She’s pregnant.”
“Really?”
Aisha had a younger sister and still vaguely remembered her mom pregnant, but it had been a long time ago. And after her dad took off to have his new lif
e with his new wife, her mom didn’t seem interested in getting married again. She was always hugging Tanisha and her and saying how they were the Three Musketeers.
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Which do you want?”
“I don’t care. A baby brother would be cool but a baby sister would be special. I’d be a good big brother to her. I’d have to protect her and watch out for her.”
“Babies are small. You’d look out for a brother, too.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged but she saw a subtle determination in him. “People need watching out for.”
“Do you?”
“Sure, but I have my mom and dad. Not everyone’s so lucky.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but for some reason it seemed too personal to ask him.
Especially because she knew people talked about him. A girl in her class called him a “Colton” in a voice that made her think his last name was important. She even talked about going up to the big ski resort in town and said that it belonged to his family.
“You want to come play? I know your book is interesting and all but we’re going to get in one more game of kickball before recess finishes.”
Aisha glanced at Trixie on the cover and was filled with happiness at the fact that the race to the emeralds could wait until later. “Sure.”
“Come on!”
The heavy knock on her door was followed by a call out, muffled through the door. “Pizza’s here!”
Both pulled her from the memory she hadn’t thought about in a long time. She still had that book, though. Nestled in her wall-to-wall bookshelves in the living room. Each time she glanced at it, whether it was to dust or to do an occasional quick reread to channel the comforts of an easier time, she remembered that day on the playground.
The day she’d met Trey Colton.
Aisha usually just hollered back for him to come in but even she’d given in to the collective concern about the Avalanche Killer. She hadn’t left her door unlocked in several months. “Coming!”