Colton 911: Cowboy's Rescue

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Me, too,” Bellamy added. “Although I think I had more fun conceiving mine the way we did.”

  Rae stared at her friend. “What?”

  “I’m pregnant,” the new bride announced, her face glowing with happiness and love.

  Tears rushed to Rae’s eyes. “That’s wonderful.”

  “So wonderful,” Maggie agreed as her eyes filled with tears, too. “I’m thrilled for you.”

  “Me, too,” Rae said. “You and Donovan are going to be amazing parents.”

  “I’m going to drive you crazy,” Bellamy warned her, “with all the questions I’ll be asking you.” Bellamy’s mom was gone, like Rae’s was.

  Rae missed her every day. They’d been so close. Georgia had been more a friend than a mother to her. Now that she was a mother herself, she’d never needed her more.

  “You won’t drive me crazy at all,” Rae assured her. “I’m not sure I’ll have all the answers, though.” Mostly she felt as if she was stumbling around in the dark, blindly finding her way as a parent and as a student again at thirty-five.

  “You’ll have more than I’ll have,” Maggie said. “You’re the smartest, most independent person I know.”

  The tears already stinging her eyes threatened to spill over, but Rae blinked them back to smile at her friend. “I’m not sure about smartest. Law school is tougher than I thought it would be.”

  “Because you just had a baby two months ago and you’re working,” Bellamy reminded her as she stared down at Connor, who slept so peacefully in her arms.

  If only he slept that peacefully at night...

  “It’ll get easier,” Rae said. That was what she kept telling herself.

  Bellamy chuckled softly. “You’re smart, but I think it’s your stubbornness that keeps you going.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of Rae’s mouth. She couldn’t deny that.

  “Just don’t be so stubborn and independent that you put yourself in danger,” Bellamy advised. “Promise?”

  Rae sighed. “Of course I’m not going to put myself or Connor in danger,” she assured her. “Stop worrying about me. And let’s get you ready for your honeymoon!”

  “Since she’s already pregnant, I think she knows about the birds and the bees,” Maggie teased.

  They all laughed, which roused Connor from his impromptu nap. But he didn’t cry when he awakened, just groggily looked up at Bellamy holding him. She was like an aunt to him, and Maggie was fast becoming like another. These women and her baby were all the family that Rae needed.

  She didn’t need a man for protection or for anything else. But when she left Bellamy’s cute two-bedroom house and headed home with Connor safely buckled into the back seat, an odd chill passed through her despite the warmth of the August night. Fear...

  Maybe it was all the talk of bodies and killers.

  Or maybe it was her postpartum hormones.

  She preferred to blame the hormones. Because she had nothing to fear...

  * * *

  The television screen illuminated only the area of the dark room around the TV. From the shadows, he watched the evening news report from the crime scene at Lone Star Pharma.

  Her body had been found. His hands clenched into fists as rage coursed through him.

  Damn it...

  The news crews had been kept back—behind the police barricade. But the camera zoomed in on the scene and captured the people investigating the discovery. The Cowboy Heroes...

  What the hell were they doing there?

  He unclenched one fist to push up the volume button.

  “Chief Thompson has enlisted the help of former Austin cold case detective Forrest Colton,” the reporter announced. “Colton has been given special dispensation from the Whisperwood Police Department to lead the investigation of this murder and the body discovered last month in a mummified condition. Colton holds the highest clearance rate in the Austin Police Department, so an arrest seems imminent.”

  He cursed again.

  No. An arrest was not imminent. Forrest Colton might have gotten lucky in Austin, but his luck was about to run out in Whisperwood. And maybe his life, as well...

  Chapter 2

  A week had passed since his brothers had ambushed him at the crime scene. A week of frustration that gripped Forrest so intensely he wished he’d never accepted the position no matter how temporary it was going to be.

  The hurricane had caused so much damage and not just physically. Emotionally people were dealing with the loss of loved ones and their homes or their livelihoods. The Whisperwood police department was stretched thin. The crime scene department was understaffed and the techs were overworked, so nothing had been processed yet from either scene. And the coroner...

  She hadn’t even taken the bodies from their refrigerated drawers yet let alone begun the autopsies. And until he had more information, Forrest hadn’t wanted to parade in the family members of every missing person to see if the dead woman was their loved one. He didn’t want to put every family through that kind of pain.

  Hell, he didn’t want to put one family through that kind of pain. But it was inevitable. Once they figured out who she was.

  Everybody expected miracles from Forrest, but his hands were nearly as tied as the poor victim’s hands had been—bound behind her back.

  He wrapped the reins around his hands and clenched his knees together as the quarter horse he rode scrambled over the uneven ground. Despite taking the detective position, Forrest continued as a volunteer for the Cowboy Heroes. The team was not done with Whisperwood and the surrounding area, which had been hit particularly hard with flooding after Hurricane Brooke.

  The water had begun to recede, though, leaving only muddy areas like the one in which the horse’s hooves slipped. His mount leaned, and Forrest nearly slipped off it into the mud. Ignoring the twinge of pain in his bad leg, he tightened his grip.

  “Whoa, steady,” Forrest murmured soothingly. When the horse regained its balance, a sigh of relief slipped through Forrest’s lips. This was why he usually handled the desk work for the rescue agency and not the fieldwork. But like his brothers, he’d been born to the saddle. He couldn’t not ride.

  He wasn’t able to help with the rescues as physically as he would have liked, though. Sometimes his leg wouldn’t hold his weight let alone the weight of another person or animal. He sighed again but this time with resignation. It was what it was.

  He’d accepted that a while ago. And he helped out where he could—like riding around to survey the areas. There were still some people missing, and maybe the floodwaters had hidden their remains.

  Not that he wanted to find any more bodies...

  But that was the purpose of the recovery part of the Cowboy Heroes rescue and recovery operation. Survivors needed that closure of knowing what had happened to their loved one and having that body to bury. That was why he needed the body in the morgue identified, so he could give her family some small measure of peace.

  Until he found her killer...

  And he would.

  His frustration turning back to determination, he urged the horse across the muddy stretch of land. Heat shimmered off the black shingles of a roof in the distance. He’d started out early from his family ranch, before the sun had even risen much above the horizon, and it wasn’t much higher now. So it was going to be another hot August day.

  Which was good...

  The last of the water should recede and reveal whatever secrets it had been hiding. Whatever bodies—of animals and people.

  So much livestock had been lost, too. A pang of regret over all those losses struck his heart. Then another pang of regret struck him when he realized whose house he’d come upon in the country.

  Hers.

  Rae Lemmon. His new sister-in-law’s best friend and quite the beauty. He hadn’t lived in Whispe
rwood for years, but he remembered this was her family home. And maybe he’d subconsciously headed that way.

  But why? Sure, she was beautiful, but because she was beautiful, she wouldn’t want anything to do with a disabled man. She’d asked him to dance at the wedding but that must have only been out of pity or maybe just a sense of obligation to her friend.

  And maybe that was why he’d come this way to check on her place—out of a sense of obligation. She was his new sister-in-law’s best friend, so that almost made her family, too. And as much as the Coltons took care of everyone else, they took extra care of their own.

  He knew that because of how everybody had taken care of him after he’d been shot. Well, everybody but one person. But she hadn’t been family yet, and after he’d been shot, she’d returned his ring.

  He flinched as the memory rushed over him. Not that he could blame her. As she’d said, she hadn’t fallen in love with a handicapped man, so he really shouldn’t have expected her to stick around. It wasn’t as if they’d said their vows yet, either, and now he expected those vows would not have included in sickness and health.

  While the old memories washed over him, the horse continued on across the muddy field toward the back of the house. The field was higher than the yard, so he could see into it, could see that a tree had toppled over into the water pooled on the grass. Maybe the roots had turned up a mound of dirt, or maybe something else had made the hole. The pile was almost too neat, as if it had been shoveled there.

  Maybe she’d thought the hole would drain away the water...

  But as Forrest drew nearer, he peered into the hole and discovered it wasn’t water filling it. Something else lay inside it, something all swaddled up in linen material smeared with mud and grime.

  “What the hell...” he murmured.

  He swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted. His boot slipped on the muddy ground, but he used the horse to steady himself. Like all the horses for the Cowboy Heroes, Mick was well-trained and helpful. Forrest patted his mane in appreciation before stepping away from his mount and turning toward the hole. He leaned over and peered inside it, and his boot slipped again.

  This time he didn’t have the horse to catch himself, so his leg—his bad leg—went out from beneath him. As he began to fall, he reached out to catch himself. But like his boot, his fingers slipped on the mud, too, and he slid into the hole, knocking the loose dirt into it with him. It sprayed across that weird material.

  Whatever it was, it had contoured to the shape of the object beneath it. But it wasn’t an object...

  It was a body with arms and legs and a face...

  A mummy, like the one his brother Jonah had found. But unlike that body, Forrest suspected the storm hadn’t turned up this one. Someone else had either dug it up or dug the hole to bury it here like someone had buried the woman by the pharmaceutical company.

  But why here? Why in Rae Lemmon’s backyard?

  Forrest reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He needed to call in a team to process the scene. Hopefully he could remove himself from it without compromising any evidence. After he called out the coroner and some crime scene techs, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and tried to pull himself out of the hole. Using his good leg, he dug his boot into the side of the hole and climbed out. As he pulled his boot free, some dirt tumbled down into the hole next to the body, and the sun glinted off it.

  It wasn’t just dirt. There was something shiny beneath the mud and grime. Something metallic. Like coins or...

  Buttons?

  Had those belonged to the victim or the killer?

  * * *

  Rae closed her eyes and savored the silence. She would have to get up soon for work, but she had a few minutes to rest her eyes and relax. And after Connor had spent most the night crying inconsolably, she needed some peace. He’d finally fallen back to sleep.

  The pediatrician suspected the baby had colic for which Rae blamed herself. The stress of law school, her job and single parenthood had affected her ability to produce breastmilk and she’d had to supplement with formula. When she’d called the doctor’s service last night, she’d been told to switch to a soy-based formula, which she would do today on her way to bring Connor to day care.

  Exhaustion gripped her, pulling her into oblivion. She had only been asleep for a moment when a noise startled her. It wasn’t the light beep of the alarm, but a loud pounding at a door. Worried that the knocking would wake up Connor, she rushed out of her bedroom without bothering to grab a robe. The only people who visited her were Bellamy and Maggie. Maybe Bellamy was back.

  But she probably would have just let herself in; she knew where the key was hidden. Disoriented for a moment from lack of sleep, Rae rushed to her front door and opened it. But nobody stood on her porch. If someone was there, they probably would have rung the bell.

  The back door rattled as that fist pounded again. And a soft cry drifted from the nursery. Connor wasn’t fully awake, but he was waking up. She ran across the living room and kitchen to pull open the door. “Shhh...” she cautioned her visitor. Then she gasped when she recognized the man standing before her. “What—what are you doing here?”

  What the hell was he doing there? Especially now?

  She had to look like death—after her sleepless night—with dark circles beneath her eyes and her hair standing on end. And her nightgown...

  She glanced down at the oversize T-shirt an old boyfriend had left. At least she’d gotten something comfy out of the relationship. But she hadn’t expected much. Her father had taught her to never count on a man sticking around, and every boyfriend she’d ever had had reinforced that lesson.

  That was why she’d chosen to be a single mother. She didn’t need a husband to have a family. She didn’t need a man. But this one...

  He was so damn good-looking even with mud on his clothes and smeared across his cheek. A frisson of concern passed through her. “Did you get thrown?” she asked. Over his shoulder—his very broad shoulder—she caught a glimpse of a dark horse pawing at the muddy grass. “Are you okay?”

  “I did not get thrown,” he said, his voice sharp as if she’d stung his pride.

  Or maybe that was just the way he always talked. He’d sounded that way when he’d told her that she couldn’t be serious about asking him to dance.

  Her face heated with embarrassment, but she didn’t know if it was because of what had happened then or how unkempt she looked now. And with the way he kept staring at her, he couldn’t have missed her unruly appearance. He was probably horrified.

  “Then what are you doing here?” she asked again.

  “I’ve called the police.”

  “I thought you were the police,” she said. She knew, from the news reports and the gossip around Whisperwood, that the chief and his brothers had successfully talked him into investigating the murders.

  “I am,” he said. “That’s why I called. I need to tape off your backyard. It’s a crime scene.”

  Despite the heat of the August day, a cold chill raced down her spine and raised goose bumps on her skin. “Crime scene?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “I found something in your yard,” he said.

  “Why were you searching my property?” she asked. “Did you have a warrant?”

  His face flushed now.

  “I know my rights,” she said. “If you didn’t have a warrant, your search was illegal.”

  “I was surveying the flood damage,” he said, “and your yard was in plain view from the field behind it.”

  Which was his family’s property. In Whisperwood, the Coltons’ ranch was second in size only to the Corgan spread.

  “So you weren’t even acting as a lawman when you performed this illegal search?” she asked. “You were just riding around your own property?”

  His brow furr
owed, and he opened his mouth to answer her, but she cut him off with an, “How dare you!”

  She’d thought she’d let it go—her embarrassment over how he’d rejected her request to dance. But now that embarrassment turned to anger, which she unleashed on him.

  Or maybe her exhaustion had made her extra irritable.

  “You’re trespassing on my property,” she continued. “And when your fellow officers arrive, they will be obligated to issue you a citation.”

  “Rae—”

  “You’re not above the law,” she said, “just because you’re a Colton.”

  “I know I’m not above the law,” he said, his face still flushed but with anger now. It burned in his hazel eyes, as well. “And neither are you.”

  “I am a law student,” she said. “And I’m already working as a paralegal. I probably know the law better than you do.”

  He snorted then. “I’ve been a police officer for years,” he reminded her. “I know the law. Why did you switch from managing the general store to law?”

  She narrowed her eyes and studied his handsome face. He’d barely talked to her at her friend’s and his brother’s wedding. Why was he curious about her now? Especially since he seemed to know more than she’d realized about her.

  She was proud of her decision to go to law school, so she answered him, “I want to do something about all the crimes happening around Whisperwood.”

  “Then you should want me to investigate what I found on your property,” he pointed out.

  Now she was curious, which she probably would have been right way if she wasn’t so damn exhausted. “What did you find?” she asked.

  “A body.”

  She gasped in shock and shook her head. “No...” It wasn’t possible. Someone couldn’t have been murdered in her yard, where she’d imagined her son playing as he grew up like she had played. She shuddered and murmured again, “No...”

  Forrest nodded. “I’m afraid it’s true.”

  “But—but I didn’t hear anything.” Wouldn’t she have heard something if someone had been murdered in her backyard? But with work and school she was gone so much that she probably hadn’t even been home when it had happened. “I didn’t see anything amiss.”