The Colton Sheriff

by Addison Fox

  Stopping now to catch her breath, she stared at the large property known as “a little piece of France,” nestled in the heart of Roaring Springs Valley. Like the rest of their resort town, The Chateau was a playground for those with money. Its status as a private enterprise meant it could—and did—decline press attention and reporters on the property. And its dedication to maintaining that privacy ensured its high-end clientele returned again and again.

  Money. Wealth. Privilege.

  Why did the image of riches suddenly stick in her thoughts?

  Aisha considered all the photos she’d spent so many waking hours studying, then bumped them up against the crime scene photos of the murdered prostitute discovered on Wyatt Colton’s ranch back in January. Bianca Rouge had been flown into town specially for a high-end client, there to entertain the man while he was vacationing. She wasn’t common or unobtrusive and as terrible as it was, her murder had seemed like one of opportunity, not careful intent.

  Add on, while she made her living as a prostitute, the woman who regularly assumed the role of Bianca Rouge had money. Investigators had turned up very nice digs in her hometown of Las Vegas and a sizable bank account. She wasn’t lost or lonely and she certainly hadn’t run away to Roaring Springs.

  Sabrina Gilford didn’t fit the lost-and-lonely bill, either. She was a party girl with a little too much in her bank account. The Gilford family wasn’t “Colton rich,” but who was? Their history in Roaring Springs was entwined with the Coltons and went back nearly as far. They might not play in the rarified air of the wealthy visitors who came to town to enjoy themselves, but they did well for themselves.

  The other woman identified from the mountain—the victim whose mother had insisted she was missing—wasn’t wealthy. Far from it.

  Was there something in that?

  An angle they’d overlooked up to now?

  Aisha considered the little they did know and felt it was important enough to tell Trey and gauge his thoughts. Turning on her heel, she left The Chateau in her wake as she headed for town.

  It was time to face Sheriff Colton.

  * * *

  “Are you even listening to me?” Daria Bloom asked Trey as she handed over a full mug of coffee.

  “Of course I am.”

  Serious dark eyes stared at him over the rim of her own coffee mug. “Tell me what I just said.”

  “You think the Feds are holding out on us and Agent Roberts is an ass.”

  “I didn’t call him that.”

  “You were thinking it.”

  “You’re right, I was.” Daria smiled. “And how do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Look like you’re not paying attention when you really are. It’s freaky,” Daria added as almost an afterthought.

  “It’s called multitasking. And I paired you up with him for a reason. He might irritate you but you’re good with people. You read them and respond accordingly.”

  Since he’d spent two sleepless nights tossing and turning over Aisha and was now using every remaining firing neuron to focus on his job, he opted not to waste any of them arguing with his favorite deputy.

  “So Roberts is playing it close to the vest?”

  “Yeah. He clammed up good and tight. So much for making nice with the locals. That seems to have vanished.”

  “He’s in a tough position,” Trey mused.

  “You’re excusing him?”

  “No.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I just figure the less time they spend with us the less time we have to spend with them.”

  “It also means we don’t have their latest thinking.”

  “And ours isn’t worth the sum total of a sheet of paper to write it all down on.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Daria added.

  It was Trey’s turn to smile. “But you were thinking it.”

  “Damn it.”

  Before he could say anything, a heavy knock came at his door, followed by Aisha rushing through it, her gorgeous long legs shown off to perfection in running shorts. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  She looked around, a halfhearted wave for Daria. “Am I interrupting?”

  “It’s hard to interrupt nothing,” Daria groused. “The Avalanche Killer is a big fat dead end.”

  “Well, I think I may have something.”

  “What?” Trey and Daria asked nearly in unison.

  Aisha tilted her head toward the door. “Let’s go in the conference room. To your boards.”

  In collective agreement, they all filed out of his office, heading down the small hallway to the main conference room that had been taken over with images of murder.

  “I’m going to get a coffee refill. Can I get you one?” Daria asked.

  “Do you have a water?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Daria’s small detour gave Trey a few minutes to himself and he turned to Aisha the moment they cleared the doorway to the conference room. “You doing okay?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Because you look—” He broke off, the sight of her in her workout attire still interrupting his ability to think clearly.

  “Nice?” Aisha asked.

  Allen, score one. Colton, score zero.

  But the joke hit its mark. He smiled in spite of the fact that she clearly wasn’t over his careless comment. “I promise I’ll make that up to you.”

  “How?”

  Before he could respond to the simple question, Daria walked back in and handed Aisha a bottle of water. “What’s going on?”

  “I was running this morning, out past The Chateau.”

  “When?” Trey leaned forward from where he was perched on the edge of the conference table. “In the dark?”

  “The sun was coming up.”

  “So it was dark when you left home? Aisha, that’s dangerous in the best of times, but especially with a killer on the loose.”

  “Trey—”

  Daria interrupted before they could fall into a full-fledged argument. “Whatever this is you two can bicker about it afterward. And for the record, Aisha, I’m with Trey on the running in the dark. Now. What was your idea?”

  Aisha shot him one last look—evidence that she was most certainly not over the nice line—and turned to Daria. “Money. Wealth. Sabrina Gilford came from a bit of money but April Thomas didn’t. She was a loner who came here to disappear.”

  “So?”

  “So Sabrina’s a break in pattern. Just like the woman murdered back in January. Bianca Rouge wasn’t a poor, lonely woman off on her own. First she’s a set-up on Wyatt Colton’s property, but now we’ve associated her with the Avalanche Killer. What if she isn’t?”

  Trey considered all his cousin had been through, with the discovery of a body on his property and the subsequent investigation that ultimately cleared his name. “What does that have to do with the killer we’re hunting?”

  “It’s a break in pattern. We’ve been looking at Sabrina as the sixth victim because she was discovered with the other bodies. But what if she wasn’t one of them? Just like Bianca Rouge wasn’t one of them.”

  “A different killer?” Daria set down her mug and walked over to the board set up specifically for Sabrina Gilford. “How would that killer know where the other bodies were? Sabrina was found with the others.”

  “I don’t know.” Aisha tugged on the curls that spilled out of her ponytail. “But I do know something’s not right.”

  “And—” Daria added, on a roll “—if it weren’t for the avalanche we wouldn’t have even found the bodies. We can’t discount the element of opportunity that favored the discovery.”

  Undeterred by the pushback, Aisha added, “Trey’s said from the beginning something about the avalanche bugged him. The fact it came so late in the season. The level of destruction
on a run that is regularly groomed.”

  She was right. He had been saying that from the start. Things had gotten so busy after the discovery of the bodies that he’d had to put the natural aspects on the back burner, but something about the impact of Mother Nature’s wrath had bugged him from the onset.

  “You are onto something, Aish. You’ve been saying Sabrina was a break in pattern.” Trey thought once more about the avalanche. “Maybe it’s more than a break.”

  Daria took another sip of her coffee, her attention still focused on the murder board. “I think we need to make a visit out to The Lodge. Take a look at that run again.”

  “The late spring rains probably haven’t left much,” Trey speculated.

  “Only one way to find out,” Aisha countered.

  * * *

  Trey plodded through the grass at the base of Wicked Mountain and tried not to wince at the large volume of mountain bike tracks crisscrossing the earth. Although the area where the bodies were discovered was still roped off, they hadn’t been successful in shutting down the entire mountain.

  Which meant the likelihood of finding anything of value was slim to none.

  “Damn it.” He dropped to his knees to look at the depth of the tracks. “It’s been too long since the bodies were discovered. We’re not going to find a thing.”

  Aisha moved up next to him. “Let’s keep looking. This part of the mountain gets a lot of bikers who come down off that nearby green run. Maybe we just need to go up a bit higher. Get away from the heavy tracks.”

  Trey didn’t have much hope they’d find anything farther up but knew she was right. They had to look. He’d had a few deputies who had canvassed the area the day after the bodies were found. They hadn’t discovered anything and he’d left it at that, but now that he considered the vast area, he should have taken this task himself.

  Or ordered more time spent looking.

  Wicked Run was one of the most challenging in all of Bradford County. Vacationers came to The Lodge specifically to ski or snowboard the run, its double black diamond status an irresistible challenge.

  It was well used. And it was groomed regularly to avoid disasters. Yet there had been one all the same.

  “You find something?” Aisha’s question broke into his thoughts.

  “No.”

  “What are you shaking your head for?”

  “It’s bugged me from the start. They keep this run in pristine shape. Where did an avalanche come from in the first place?”

  “Nature can be unpredictable.”

  “Yeah, but it’s predictable, too. That was a late-season storm but the run was constantly looked after. My family may make me crazy but they run a solid resort here. They take care that their visitors are safe.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I don’t know.” Trey threw up his hands. “But I do know it’s bothered me from the start. Even if the weather was unpredictable enough to cause an avalanche, what we had was a mess.”

  Aisha looked toward the peak of the mountain and pressed a hand over her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. “How would you tamper with a mountain?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you wanted to recreate a natural disaster, how would you do it?”

  Trey shrugged. “Same way the grounds crew grooms the mountain. Set off charges. Manage the clearing of the snow.”

  “And The Lodge keeps the equipment to do that?”

  “Sure. All of the local resorts do.” Trey saw where she was going as all his lingering frustration over the situation faded. “Let’s go talk to the groundskeepers.”

  * * *

  “Trey, I can’t let you go out there scaring the grounds team.”

  “Then go with me. Either way, I need to talk to your crew.”

  Aisha watched the byplay as Trey negotiated with his cousin Decker. The tall, attractive man had always been one of her favorite Colton cousins, even though his workaholic devotion to The Lodge had prevented him from coming to every Colton event. A state that had changed since the prior spring when he fell in love with Kendall Hadley, a conservationist working for her father’s company, Hadley Forestry.

  Trey had kept her up to date on the specifics at the time, including Kendall’s near abduction in March, and then Aisha had personally witnessed the worst event of all. She’d watched in horror, along with several Colton family members, including Trey’s parents, when Kendall was targeted at an event at Bree’s gallery. A huge rock tossed through the wide, front glass windows resulted in falling glass and a serious injury to Kendall’s face. The necessary surgery to save her eye and the plastic surgery needed to mend the injury to her face had been extensive, Decker at her side every step of the way.

  Aisha was as happy as the family to hear the news of their engagement, and their wedding had been one of the most beautiful she’d ever attended.

  Even with the positive changes in his life, Decker was all business as he negotiated with Trey. “Your deputies asked questions after the avalanche. Damn Feds have been poking around, too.”

  “Anyone find anything?”

  “No. Of course not,” Decker shot back, his chest puffing out slightly.

  “Any of those pokers ask to speak to the grounds crew?”

  “No.” That note of triumph was noticeably absent this time around.

  “Look, Decker.” Trey’s tone quieted as he shifted to a new tack. “I’m not going to scare anyone and I’m not trying to suggest they don’t know how to do their jobs. But we need to talk to them.”

  “Fine,” Decker finally acquiesced. “But I’m going with you.”

  “Of course you are. Solid front. That’s what we need.”

  Although Decker wasn’t unkind, he was puzzled when he shifted his attention to her. “Aisha, it’s good to see you as always. Maybe I can set you up here? I can get you a cup of coffee. Some breakfast.”

  “She’s coming with me.” Trey nearly growled the words. “This was her idea. She deserves to see it through.”

  “You want to question my grounds crew like they’re criminals?”

  “I want to talk to them like people. People who have eyes and expertise and might be able to use both to help us.” Trey put an arm around Aisha’s shoulders. “My fiancée has the same skills and she’s going to put them to use watching your crew.”

  “You’re engaged?” Decker’s eyes widened. “Hot damn, congratulations!”

  As announcements of their “joyous news” went, Aisha had expected she’d be a bit more prepared, but no time like the present. She went into Decker’s open arms and was surprised to feel his genuine happiness for her in the warm hug.

  “Welcome to the family.” Decker pulled back, staring down at her. “Or should I say, finally?”

  Before she could think up a response to that one, Decker had turned and pulled Trey into a hard hug. “This is awesome news, man. Congratulations.”

  The surprise of their engagement was enough to shift the tense tenor of the room. Decker talked to them a few more minutes about their upcoming nuptials as he waited for his admin to get the grounds crew pulled together outside for questioning.

  “Mr. Colton.” The discreet knock at the door pulled them off the discussion of weddings. “The team’s outside and ready for you.”

  “Thanks, Maris.” Decker had dropped into a more casual pose as he spoke of wedding plans, leaning against his desk, but that vanished at what was still to come. “Why don’t we get this over with?”

  Trey nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Both men gestured Aisha to go first, and as she left the rarified air of Decker Colton’s office, she had to wonder what they’d find.

  Knowledge and transparency?

  Or more of the runaround that had seemed to be the hallmark of this case?

  * * *

 
The woman’s soulless stare gazed toward the sky. Her pretty, made up face had long since vanished, her anguish stamped in the way makeup smudged around her eyes from crying and the corners of her lips had chapped after so many hours attempting to get free.

  None of which was his fault. He wasn’t a sicko and he hadn’t abused her. She was the one who went crazy on him, her eyes wide the moment she’d come to with the gag in her mouth. He’d tried to talk to her, but the moment the gag had come down around her neck, she’d started screaming, unwilling to listen to him. He’d finally backhanded her to get her to shut the hell up.

  Damn, women could scream.

  She’d gone unconscious for a while, giving him some silence. Finally. And then he did what he needed to do before she regained consciousness again.

  “Ends to a mean,” he muttered to himself as he turned her to her side. He needed the blood and hair sample and he needed to do it fast. He was expected in town in a half hour and he had to finish his staging and get the call made.

  After all, “The Avalanche Killer” had a reputation to maintain.

  Chapter 9

  Aisha replayed the discussion with Decker as they approached the groundskeepers, all dressed in green golf shirts and khaki shorts and lined up in military precision. The Lodge was several large buildings and they were outside the main business office, the majesty of the Rockies rising up behind them.

  She tried to remain unobtrusive—like she looked all that professional still clad in her running clothes—and observed the line of groundskeepers. It was heavily weighted to men, but there were three women scattered throughout the line. All appeared as competent as their male counterparts, their bodies strong with their outdoor labor.

  None of them appeared nervous, just curious. It was a state she’d apply to everyone in line. Certainly, getting called to the offices by the big boss was reason for some curiosity, but no one seemed anxious or uneasy. And all remained that way, even when Trey came out of the business office like they’d rehearsed, the khaki of his uniform starched and pressed where it stretched across his shoulders.