Colton 911--Family Defender

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  He shook his head. She had it all wrong. His life had been devoted to the FBI for more than twenty years. He’d only built Colton PI after his folks had died and...

  He was saved from trying to explain—to ensure that she saw him as he truly was—by the knock on the door.

  Iglesias had arrived.

  * * *

  Gathering up the crackers and water, Charlize carried them into the kitchen as Riley answered the door. She needed a second to get her head out of fantasyland and back into gear. No point in romanticizing about the ex–FBI agent who’d fathered her child.

  He’d walked out on her—not kindly. And actions spoke a whole lot louder than words.

  Still, as she walked back into the living room, holding out a hand to the tall, muscular detective who’d just arrived, she couldn’t help picturing a younger Riley with a two-year-old on each hip.

  Couldn’t help feeling a tad bit of love for that picture.

  Or for the way Riley met her gaze as she came back into the room, as though asking if she felt okay. She nodded, just in case the question had been there, between them, and felt another twinge of...not hate...at his slight nod back as they took seats—her back in her chair, and the two men on either end of the couch.

  Iglesias pulled out a notebook, jotting things as they both told him about the hit and run the day before, naming who, from the GRPD they’d spoken to.

  “My understanding was that Gomez was taking on the case,” Riley finished.

  Iglesias shrugged. “I’ll talk to him, request the case. Makes sense that I take this on.”

  “Good.” Riley nodded. “Sadie said you were the one...”

  Charlize had no reason to feel more confident in the man, just because of Riley’s approval, but she felt more like she was in good hands, just the same.

  “Sadie’s a character,” Iglesias said. “I was surprised to hear that she’s marrying Tate Greer. Can’t say I’ve ever liked the man. Just something about him seems kind of off. He’s a little too perfect. Too shiny.”

  Riley’s frown made Charlize more curious than an outsider should have been. “I’m not sure I do, either,” he said.

  As Iglesias went outside, got an evidence kit from his car and took the bullet out of the wall of her home, after taking photos, Charlize excused herself to the kitchen and another dose of crackers.

  Feeling nothing like herself.

  Nothing in her life was normal. Her aunt had lost her savings, her life was in danger and she’d just found out she was pregnant. All within a day.

  She almost slid down to the floor under the weight of it all.

  At a time when, considering the child who was dependent upon her, she had to be stronger than she’d ever been before.

  She couldn’t afford to feel needy. To be tempted by the chance to rely on someone else.

  It was Riley Colton’s fault. Whenever he was around, she wasn’t herself.

  He made her weak.

  And so, as soon as this RevitaYou business was settled, he had to go.

  Her baby was counting on her.

  But...wouldn’t it be...nice...if her baby could grow up with the same loving care Riley Colton had been bestowing on his sisters all his life?

  Forget nice...it would be a miracle.

  And she no longer believed in those.

  Because of him.

  No way was she going to give him the chance to lead her child into thinking she or he was loved, just to have him walk out on them.

  No way in hell.

  Chapter 7

  Riley assessed Charlize’s face the second she walked back into the room to ascertain whether or not her morning sickness had fully passed, just as he’d long ago learned to do with his mother.

  Charlize’s pinched look was gone. But she avoided his gaze.

  He didn’t blame her. The night they’d had sex, she’d offered a condom, but he’d had his own, which he’d insisted on using. Always had. He replaced the one in his wallet each week. Knew they were the best money could buy.

  He’d had no reason, or thought, to follow up afterward, to make certain there’d been no consequence from the night he’d been trying to forget ever since.

  He frankly hadn’t even considered that there’d be one. As far as he knew, he hadn’t had a condom failure in the decades he’d been using them.

  Iglesias, who was back on his end of the couch, was asking Charlize if she had any idea who wanted her dead. She told him about the list of clients she’d given to the officer who’d come to the house the night before. He wanted to hear about them again. From her.

  This wasn’t just a threat. It was an actual attempt to follow through on the threat.

  “I had two visits on Monday that required police escorts,” she said, her voice steady, her gaze clear and professional as she sat down in her chair and faced the detective. “One is a convicted felon, out on probation after serving three years for felonious assault. James Barber. He’s living with a woman he met while he was in prison and she’s got a four-year-old. I’m there because of a report from a grandmother who wants the child removed from the home.”

  Riley stiffened. It was the first he’d heard of that.

  Because he’d chosen to leave and make his own report the night before, rather than staying while she spoke with the officer.

  He’d just found out about their baby, and he’d run away again.

  She was going to figure out right quick that it was what he did. As soon as he’d turned eighteen, he’d moved out of the house. And when he’d graduated from Quantico, he’d quit going home for family dinners.

  When Brody had needed a place to stay during his college breaks, he’d failed to offer one of the two empty bedrooms in the old house he’d bought with an eye to fixing it up...

  “The second is two women, the Thompsons, both ex-cons, both who served time for domestic violence. They hooked up in prison. Both have been out a while, been married a couple of years, but there’s obvious violence going on in the home. Charges were brought against both of them recently for disturbing the peace. Their fights are violent and loud enough that neighbors call the police, but neither of them will admit to hurting the other, and neither will press charges. They were fined for disturbing the peace, but having me visit once a week, in an attempt to help them learn healthy ways to love each other and live together, and to keep an eye on the home, was part of their sentence. Neither of them wants me there and because of that, and because of their obvious violent tendencies, I’m not to visit without an escort.”

  Riley listened, impressed and uncomfortable at the same time. She was pregnant. Carrying their child. He didn’t want her walking into the home of two known violent offenders...

  “You said you thought the driver last night was male, right?” Iglesias was looking at Riley.

  “I couldn’t be sure, but I thought so, yes. I’m certain the shooter today was.” His brain kicked into full fight mode. “Obviously, we’re looking at the same perp. Unless there are two small older black pickup trucks owned by two different people who don’t like Charlize.”

  Iglesias nodded. “And I’d say the Thompsons are out,” he said, “though I’m still going to pay them a visit. But the fact that the guy missed this morning...if he was a hired gun he likely wouldn’t have done so. He was one man, not two women, and he missed, so it’s not likely he was someone hired by the two women.”

  Sadie’s pick grew even higher in Riley’s estimation as the man stated what Riley had already been thinking.

  “And...there’s one more that stands out,” Charlize said, her gaze completely on the detective. She hadn’t looked at Riley since they’d all sat back down. “Mostly because of a phone call I had this morning.”

  She hadn’t mentioned this to him. Riley felt slighted. Had to adjust his thinking to get rid of the unwarranted re
action. And listened intently as the mother of his future child relayed the conversation to the detective, including the fact that a potential abuser’s girlfriend was scared and wanted her off the case. Ronny Simms and his girlfriend, Laurene Dill. New names on Riley’s radar. Though he trusted Iglesias to do his job, Riley was already on his cell phone. Typing in the guy’s full name. Looking at the photo that came up. A mug shot.

  “Is this him?” he asked, holding the phone out to her.

  She nodded. “But he’s never actually done any physical violence that I’m aware of,” she said, being fair, just as he’d expect her to be.

  “Is that the guy you saw behind the wheel?” Iglesias asked Riley, and as much as Riley wanted to be sure it was, he wasn’t sure.

  Looking at the phone again, he shook his head. “He’s white and has dark hair,” he said, “but there’s nothing about this guy here that strikes me as familiar.”

  He hadn’t been looking at the guy’s face as he might have done any other time he’d been witness to a potential crime. As he should have been doing.

  Instead, both times, the majority of his attention had been on the victim. Even before the attempts on her life had happened.

  He hadn’t been watching his surroundings at all times as he’d been trained to do. He’d been watching her.

  * * *

  “I’d like you to stay inside, at least until I can check some of this out,” Iglesias said, his expression forthright and serious as he looked her in the eye. Charlize nodded, wanting to trust the detective completely. She wanted to look at Riley, too, make certain that he was in agreement, but wouldn’t let herself.

  “I’ve already rearranged my visits for the day, and the rest I can do from home,” she said. “And what about my aunt? Should I call her home?”

  The man shook his head. “It’s clear this guy is after you. I’ll put an officer on your house, and, when your aunt’s ready to come home, she should have an escort. Just until I dig a little deeper here. If we have reason to suspect any of these names you’ve given me, we can put a man on them. It could turn out to be someone else in your case files, too,” he added. “Or something completely unconnected...”

  Too many ifs for her. “What’s your professional opinion?” she asked. She worked with the police department regularly. Was privy to a lot of inside scoop.

  “That it’s going to turn out to be Ronny or James,” he said. “But I’m not willing to bet your life on that.”

  She glanced at Riley then. She hadn’t meant to but...

  “There’s something else you should know, Detective. But something I need to ask you to keep to yourself as much as possible as no one else in my life knows yet...”

  Riley’s entire body stiffened, his face deadpan. But he didn’t in any way indicate that she should keep her mouth shut.

  “I’m pregnant,” she said, feeling the words to her core as she heard them announced to a near stranger.

  It wasn’t just a nightmare. A dread. A fantasy. A hope.

  Her pregnancy was real.

  And if her life was in danger, her baby’s could be, too.

  “Does the father know?”

  She specifically did not look at Riley as she nodded.

  “Did he know before yesterday’s threat?”

  She shook her head.

  “But he knew before this morning’s phone call?”

  She got where Iglesias was going with his questioning, and knew, of course, that he was all wrong. But she couldn’t out Riley. Not until they’d at least talked about it and he had a chance to speak with his family.

  It was the decent thing to do.

  “He did. But he’s not angry about it,” she said, realizing that she spoke the complete truth. And that Riley’s lack of anger mattered. A lot. Meant a lot.

  Not that he had a right to be mad at her—the condom had been his—but he could be angry at its failure. At fate.

  And he hadn’t expressed even a hint of that.

  He wasn’t happy she was pregnant. But he wasn’t upset, either...

  “I think the pregnancy is pertinent in terms of anyone watching out for Charlize, but it doesn’t seem to be an issue in terms of what we’re looking at here,” Riley was saying. “Obviously, since no one else in her life knows yet, her clients couldn’t know or have some reason to take exception to her because of it, nor would anyone else who might be making these threats and attempts against her life.”

  He was right, too. She just knew that when you talked to the police, they expected you to tell them everything important in your life, just in case. And she’d needed anyone who might come upon her injured to know that she had a baby’s life to save, in addition to her own.

  Not that she was planning to be injured. She wasn’t. “I’ve been trained both in self-defense and in self-protection,” she announced to the room in general.

  “It might not even be an issue after today,” Detective Iglesias said. “If the perp’s one of our guys here—” he nodded toward the notebook he’d been jotting in “—and if we can match a vehicle to him, or match either him or the vehicle to any surveillance cameras that might be in the area, we could have this wrapped up pretty quickly.”

  She liked the sound of that. Liked it a whole lot. Glanced at Riley as the detective’s phone rang and he excused himself to take the call. Riley was watching her, his expression kind of odd. Like a concerned friend or something.

  Not professional. Not like a lover or enemy, either. But like he honestly just cared about her well-being.

  She’d have taken the idea for granted during the night she’d known him. It made no sense coming from the man who’d walked out on her after leading her on all night. He’d gotten the sex he’d obviously been after. And there’d been nothing left there of any interest to him.

  Not even enough affection to warrant an “I’ll call you.” Or enough friendship to have called to tell her that he’d enjoyed getting to know her—just because making such a call was a decent thing to do.

  Riley Colton had had ample opportunity and he didn’t do the decent thing. But had her pregnancy changed things? she wondered.

  That fact had to remain in the forefront of her mind, and as a barrier to her heart, as they figured out how to disarm the land mine upon which they were sitting.

  * * *

  Breaking eye contact with Charlize, Riley stood, walked toward the window, paying attention to the surroundings as he waited for Iglesias to finish his call. Close attention. He had to get on with business. Focus on the case. Get his ass out of Charlize’s presence and figure out what he was going to do about the baby she was carrying.

  How he was going to tell his family, for one.

  Because clearly he was going to have to. It wasn’t like Charlize was going to keep it a secret. Or even be able to do so once she started showing.

  He wondered how her aunt was going to take the news. Figured that Blythe might be shocked—but overall, loving and supportive.

  A good thing. A relief, really, to know that she’d have familial support.

  He dreaded telling his.

  Had no idea what he was going to tell them.

  He knew his sisters way too well to think that he could just drop the news and move on. No, they’d have a million questions apiece. From holding him accountable, to asking if they could help name the baby. At least two of them were going to want immediate roles. Vikki would just decide her role and proceed accordingly. Sadie, he wasn’t sure about. As caught up as she was with Tate, their wedding and plans for their future together, she might not take as active an interest...

  Business. The case.

  Iglesias ended his call. “About this RevitaYou thing...” he started.

  Turning from the window, Riley stood there, looking directly at the detective, but watching Charlize peripherally. “Charlize is inv
olved there, too,” Riley said. He’d intimated as much when he’d called the detective to move their morning appointment to Charlize’s town home. He explained the basics of the scheme, as he knew them, telling Iglesias about Brody’s connection to his family and the state the younger man had been in when he’d come begging for help the day before. He then added, “Charlize’s aunt, who lives here with her, is an investor in that last group with Brody. She’s out fifty thousand, as well. The only difference is, she put up her life savings, rather than borrowing the money like Brody did. I’m assuming, since Matthews put Brody onto to Capital X, he also sent others their way. And if, like Brody, they’re in that last group, they’re going to be facing the same kind of pressure he is.”

  Iglesias asked about Capital X, and Riley told him what he knew from his time at the FBI, and added that Griffin had a contact and was looking into them.

  “Ironic that your life is threatened—” the detective looked at Charlize, and then toward Riley “—at the same time your brother is threatened and comes to you for help,” he said.

  Riley nodded, had already gone down that road. “I don’t think there’s a connection,” he said. “There’s no way anyone would have known that I was on my way to see Blythe Kent, certainly not in enough time to get to the house...”

  “And the warning was clearly for me yesterday, not for Riley.” She glanced at him fully, and they were on the same side again, working together. He much preferred it that way.

  “Exactly. I was on the same sidewalk. Another few yards down and he could have delivered the warning to me. I’m the one who’s investigating. The one Brody came to. If this had anything to do with RevitaYou, with Brody, why warn Charlize and then shoot at her today?”

  “Are you sure the guy wasn’t shooting at you?” Iglesias asked, but seemed to just be making sure they were looking at every angle.

  Riley nodded. “I hadn’t stepped outside yet.”

  “Okay—” the detective nodded toward Riley “—then I’d say the perp picked a bad time to come after Charlize, or fate was watching out for you,” he said, glancing at Charlize, “in having him heading your way to talk to your aunt when he did...