Colton's Secret History

by Jennifer D. Bokal

  Then there was her mention of the past. Of course, he’d heard how her husband died in a car accident. Even as kids, Bridgette had never been one to share her feelings. Perhaps the fact that she was friendly or not had more to do with being a young widow than anything else.

  “On second thought,” said Luke. “If the offer for the party still stands, I’d love to stay.”

  Phone in hand, Bridgette was typing out a message. “Are you sure? I mean, I’d love for you to come and would really appreciate the ride.”

  “Give me one minute to lock up the store and we can get going.”

  “Speaking of the store.” Bridgette followed Luke to the front door. “Do you have any security cameras that might have caught whoever slashed my tires? Something I could turn over to the police?”

  “Braxville is still a pretty safe community, so I’ve never needed the extra security of cameras,” he said. Then again, he didn’t think that local kids were involved. In fact, Luke was almost positive that he knew what happened to Bridgette’s car.

  The question was why would she be a target?

  * * *

  Sitting in the front seat of her car, Julia watched the scene unfold. As Luke held the door to his pickup truck open for Bridgette and she slipped into the passenger seat, Julia’s chin began to quiver. It was unbelievable that her plan had utterly failed.

  Luke rounded to the driver’s side. He started the engine and the truck pulled away from the curb. Slamming her hand on the steering wheel, Julia said, “No. No. No.”

  Bridgette was supposed to be upset by the damage done to her car.

  Luke wasn’t supposed to care.

  And they sure as hell weren’t supposed to leave together.

  Julia slumped lower in her seat as they drove past the corner where she’d parked. Turning her gaze to the side-view mirror, she watched until their taillights were little more than angry red eyes piercing the gathering darkness.

  Starting the ignition, she hesitated only a moment before pulling onto the street and rounding the corner. Luke’s truck was more than a quarter of a mile ahead of Julia’s car, but he was easy to follow.

  They left Braxville, passing farmland and open fields. He turned toward the newly developed area where the houses were newer, larger, with long and winding driveways in front and pools in the back.

  Even without a map, she knew where they were going. To Bridgette Colton’s house.

  As she drove, Julia’s phone began to ring. A bracket held the cell in an air vent. Her mother’s image and number appeared on the screen. Dammit.

  She swiped the call open. “What do you need, Mother?”

  “When are you coming home?” her mother asked, her voice all but drowned out by the road noise and the engine’s whine.

  “I’m going to a friend’s house,” Julia said. “One of the girls from work, Bridgette, invited me over for dinner.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Julia ground her teeth together. True, she was telling her mother a lie, but what cause did her mom have to question where she was going or what she was doing? “I’m positive,” she said, her teeth still gritted.

  “Where does she live?”

  Julia repeated the Coltons’ address for her mother. She’d memorized it from all the times she looked at the house on the internet.

  “All right,” said her mom. “Well, I hope you have a nice time.”

  “I will,” she said, as Luke pulled into the driveway of the Coltons’ large and modern house.

  The Colton home was in a private community, one that Julia couldn’t enter. Eyes trained on the road, she passed the large gates and guard shack. She turned onto a frontage road and found a spot behind a large tree that gave her a perfect view of the Colton house.

  She’d stowed a set of binoculars that had belonged to her father in the glove box. After removing them, Julia looked through the ocular lens, and the home came into view. With lights illuminating on the brick-and-wood facade, the home was more breathtaking in person than it had been in the pictures on the internet.

  Holding her breath, Julia knew better than to hope. Could it be that Luke was only bringing Bridgett home? Was he simply a ride, a glorified taxi?

  At almost the same instant, both doors opened. They jumped from the truck and Bridgette pointed to the side of the house. In the distance, sparks from a bonfire rose into the night.

  Luke and Bridgette walked side by side. From her vantage point in the car, Julia was able to observe them, seeing things that she doubted they even saw. Luke stole glimpses of Bridgette, and she of him. She noted even more than their sly observations. Both Bridgette and Luke regarded each other with affection, attraction...love.

  Julia refused to lose Luke.

  Still, it brought up interesting and important questions. How far was Julia willing to go to keep Luke? What was she willing to do?

  Chapter 9

  Bridgette led Luke to the backyard. Side by side, they were so close that their hands brushed as they walked. His skin was warm. A tingling began in her fingers and traveled all the way up her arm, until her heart began to race. Folding her arms across her chest, she vowed to forget all about the sensation.

  The scent of woodsmoke, along with the sounds of voices and laughter, filled the evening air. Her family was gathered at the back of the house. A long table with a white tablecloth was filled with food. Closer to the water’s edge were several round tables, already filled with family, friends and neighbors. Candles of different heights and colors flickered on every surface. At the edge of the lawn was a community lake. The bonfire burned near the water, sending sparks into the sky, where they mingled with the stars before burning out.

  Her mother, dressed in slim jeans, a turtleneck sweater and barn jacket, looked up as Bridgette approached. “There you are, honey,” she said. “I was starting to get concerned.”

  Leaning in to kiss her mother’s cheek, she said, “I had car trouble.” Sure, her excuse wasn’t the whole truth, but she didn’t want her mother to worry or insist that Bridgette move back into the house. “You remember Luke Walker? He gave me a ride.”

  Luke stepped forward with his palm outstretched. “Pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Colton.”

  “You can call me Lilly,” she said, pulling Luke into an embrace. “And here, we hug.”

  “You can count me out on that one.” Bridgette didn’t need to turn around. It was one of her triplet brothers, Brooks. Brooks and Luke had played baseball together in high school. “But it is good to see you, Luke.”

  “Good to see you, too,” said Luke, as the two men shook hands and exchanged slaps on the back.

  Brooks gave Bridgette a kiss on the cheek. “Good to see you, sis.”

  “You, too. You look good. How’s work?”

  “I’m still trying to figure out how two bodies ended up buried in the wall in a building in downtown Braxville.”

  “Aren’t the police involved?” Bridgette asked.

  “They are, but I’ve been hired to figure out what happened. How about you?” he asked. “What brings you to Braxville?”

  “Work,” she said, giving away nothing. Sure, she was being cagey. And true, Brooks might have heard rumors about the cancer cases and connected her to the investigation. All the same, Bridgette lived by a simple rule to never mix work and family.

  “Obviously, it’s work. You’re also avoiding my question,” Brooks continued with a smile. “Or is it a big secret?”

  Sure, her brother was teasing. All the same, he was closer to the truth than anyone would have ever guessed.

  Bridgette was saved from answering any more questions when the other triplet, Neil, along with the eldest Colton sibling, Tyler, called out, “Walker? Is that you?” He ambled over from the bonfire to greet Luke.

  Her older sister, Jordana, approached. She wore a red sweater a
nd jeans. Her sister’s casual look left Bridgette wishing that she had taken time to change out of her slacks, blouse and blazer. Next to Jordana was a man, with dark hair and dark eyes.

  Since she’d never met the man, she guessed that the guy was Jordana’s new love, Clint.

  “Looks to me like Luke’s popular,” Jordana said, hitching her chin toward the knot of men, all now with beers in hand, talking and laughing. “Our brothers wouldn’t be more excited if you’d brought a puppy to the party.”

  “Luke’s a good guy, that’s for sure. Without him, I wouldn’t have made it here at all.”

  “Bridgette, I want to introduce you to Clint,” said Jordana. “This my sister Bridgette.”

  “It’s great to meet you,” Bridgette said. “You’ve made my sister very happy.”

  “Your sister is the one who’s made me happy. More than that, your family is one of the nicest I’ve met. And Braxville is a special little town.”

  The mention of Braxville brought Bridgette’s thoughts around to her car and the flat tires. “Jordana, you’re a cop.”

  Her sister laughed. “Last time I checked, at least.”

  “Have you heard anything about kids slashing tires downtown?”

  “Not a thing,” Jordana said with the shake of her head. “Is that what’s wrong with your car? Someone cut your tire?”

  “Try tires. All four of them were completely flat.”

  “We haven’t gotten any complaints, but I’ll ask around and let you know if I hear anything.” Tilting her head toward the house, Jordana said, “You want to come with me and help Mom inside? It looks like Brooks’s newest girlfriend is inside, too.”

  “Brooks brought his girlfriend?” Bridgette asked, happy that her brother had finally found love. “I have to meet her.” As they walked toward the house, their father’s business partner, Uncle Dex, arrived with his wife, Mary.

  “Bridgette, Jordana. Good to see you both. Where are you off to?”

  “Helping Mom,” said Jordana.

  At the same moment, Bridgette said, “Going to meet Brooks’s new lady friend.”

  Dex lifted his eyebrows. “About time Brooks found someone special. What’d you say her name was?”

  Jordana answered the question. “Gwen,” she said. “Gwen Harrison.”

  Dex went pale.

  His wife gripped his arm. “Are you okay, Markus? You look like someone just walked on your grave.”

  “Just a little light-headed, that’s all. Maybe I should grab a bite to eat. I’m sure that’ll help me feel better.”

  Bridgette watched Dex approach the group of men and accept an offered beer. He most certainly didn’t look piqued anymore. Was it her imagination or had Dex reacted badly to the mention of Brooks’s new girlfriend?

  Then again, she had more pressing concerns than anyone’s opinion of her brother’s latest love interest. Like, what had actually happened to her car?

  Was there really a connection between the cancer cases and Colton Construction?

  And, finally, how could she tell her parents—her father, especially—that their business might play a prominent role in her investigation?

  After a few paces, Jordana stopped and turned to Bridgette. “Are you coming?” she asked. “Or what?”

  “On my way,” she said, jogging to catch up to her sister. To Bridgette, it seemed like everyone in Braxville had a secret. Walking into the bright and warm kitchen, she wondered how far people would go to keep those secrets hidden?

  * * *

  In all honesty, Luke enjoyed spending time with the Colton clan. It was a large and loud family, and completely different from what he had grown up with—just his parents and himself.

  “Remember that time,” said Ty. “I think you guys were all seniors in high school and it was the quarter-final game for state baseball championship.”

  Luke groaned. “Don’t remind me, please.”

  They were all laughing at the memory. Ty continued, “You two were in the outfield.” He slapped both Luke and Brooks on the back. “The batter hit the ball. It was headed for the fence. You both were looking at the ball—not each other. Then, smack, you ran into each other, knocking yourselves over.”

  Brooks and Neil roared with laughter at Ty’s retelling of the tale. Luke couldn’t help himself. With a shake of his head, he joined in the laughter.

  “There you two were, lying on the field. For all we knew, you’d knocked each other out cold. Then Luke lifts his hand, straight in the air. Plop. The ball lands in his glove. The batter is out. The inning was over.”

  “Too bad we were down by four runs and never had a chance to make them up,” said Luke.

  As kids, Luke was always friends with the Colton boys. As men, they were people to be admired and respected. Why then, did he keep glancing over his shoulder, looking for Bridgette? More than that, where had she gone?

  “To this day, that play is the best—and worst—I have ever seen in my life,” Ty concluded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “Hey,” said Neil. “I heard a rumor that you’re now in charge of the Braxville Boo-fest, Luke. How’s that going?”

  “Thankfully, the former chair had a good bit of planning done. Since it’s next weekend, I’ll have a busy few days, that’s for sure. Still, if everyone pitches in it’ll be a success.”

  “I’m glad to see that the downtown businesses are coming together,” said Ty. “It creates a sense of community.”

  “That’s what we’re all hoping,” said Luke, before finishing the last swallow of his beer.

  “You need another drink?” Neil asked. “I’ll get you one. The cooler’s empty so I’ll have to grab you one from inside.”

  Luke’s gaze traveled to the house. Through a kitchen window, he spied Bridgette. She was smiling and shaking her head. She looked over her shoulder, said something and laughed. What Luke remembered best about the quarterfinal baseball game was that his single well-timed catch had given him enough confidence to ask Bridgette to prom.

  She’d been at the game. All the Coltons had come to watch Brooks. Walking through the parking lot, Bridgette had lagged behind the rest of her family. Luke had left his parents and jogged to her side.

  “Bridgette. Wait up,” he had said.

  Even now he recalled how his heart had thundered against his chest. It was the same feeling he had every time he saw her—anticipation, excitement, along with the promise of something better.

  “Sorry about the game,” she said. “You played really well.”

  His mouth went dry. His palms were damp. “So, now that baseball season is over, I guess we have to move on to what’s next.”

  “Like finals. Graduation. College.”

  “I was thinking about prom.”

  She had shrugged and looked over her shoulder. Facing him again, she said, “I’m not going.”

  Luke’s heart dropped to his shoes. “Why not?”

  “First, nobody has asked.”

  Before losing his nerve, he said, “Want to go with me? I mean, I can take you. I mean, I’d love it if you wanted to go with me, too.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Bridgette had planted her feet on the ground. “Did my brother put you up to this?”

  “Who? Brooks? No, never.”

  Eyes narrowed, she asked, “Why are you asking me?”

  Luke had been deaf to every sound other than the pulse that roared in his ears. “Because I like you. You’re cool.”

  She’d smiled and Luke no longer cared about the baseball game. Making Bridgette happy—that’s what mattered. She dragged her toe through the gravel and nodded.

  “Is that a yes?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she had said. “I guess it is.”

  “Hey, Luke,” Neil asked again, bringing him back to the present. “You need
another beer?”

  Bridgette still stood beside the window. He felt a pull like a magnet to steel, but a thousand times stronger. “I’ll go grab them. Four?”

  All the Colton brothers nodded, and Luke walked across the darkened lawn toward the house. He opened the door just as Lilly Colton arrived with a tray of steaming and saucy ribs. He held the door as she passed. “Thank you, Luke.”

  Yet, Lilly was just the first in a long parade of those carrying food. Jordana had grilled chicken, Yvette, a large salad, and an auburn-haired woman—who he guessed was Brooks’s new girlfriend—held a large tray of corn.

  As the women walked through the gathering darkness, Lilly looked over her shoulder. “Dinner’s being served, Luke. See if you can’t get Bridgette out of the house so we can eat.”

  “I’ll do my best,” said Luke before slipping inside. The door to the patio led to a large dining room, complete with a brass-and-crystal chandelier. Through a narrow archway was the adjoining kitchen.

  Just like he’d seen from outside, Bridgette stood at the sink. She looked up as he entered. Her arms were in soapy water up to her elbows. “The caterer didn’t send flatware for serving, so I’m washing some of Mom’s.”

  “Do you need help? I’m pretty handy with soap and a sponge.” Good Lord, had he really just said that? It was undoubtedly the cheesiest line known to man.

  Bridgette tilted her head toward a dripping pile of silverware lying on a towel. “You can dry those off,” she said.

  He reached for another dish towel at the same moment that Bridgette yelped and drew her arm from the water. She cradled it to her chest.

  “What happened?” he asked. He reached for her injured hand and wrapped it in the towel, squeezing enough to apply pressure.

  “I nicked myself on the tines of a fork, I think,” she said.

  Luke removed the towel and wiped away the blood. A small gash on the side of her pinky finger wept blood. Bridgette’s breath washed over his shoulder. The heat from her body warmed his skin. To see her wounded filled him with a desire to make her better and always keep her safe.