Colton On The Run (The Coltons 0f Roaring Springs Book 9)

by Anna J. Stewart

  “It’s a surprise.” Leo managed a quick smile. He was keeping his promise so far. He hadn’t lied to her. “Do you still like surprises?”

  “I do today.” She grabbed the saddle horn and swung a leg behind her to dismount.

  It was then he noticed the boots. “Where’d you get those?”

  “Trapper found them for me.” Jane kicked a heel up behind her and beamed at him. “Aren’t they marvelous? I love the silver stitching detail. I can’t believe they fit.”

  “Almost like they were meant for her.” Trapper arched a brow at Leo. “Hope you don’t mind. I thought I’d take a look through the attic boxes. See if there was anything Gwen and Lacey might be able to use once they’re back.”

  Leo looked the old man dead in the eye. “You were looking for stuff for Gwen and came across the box of my mother’s things?”

  “Oh.” Jane’s smile faltered. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

  “It’s fine.” Leo pushed up the brim of his hat as he caught a glint of sparkle off the boots. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen them.” And the last time certainly wasn’t a moment he wanted to remember. Watching his father box up his mother’s things was one of his earliest memories—the day he’d watched a man who had been through so much, finally break. Here? Now? She’d just turned that sadness into light. “Really, Jane. Trapper’s right. They were made for you. And I’m sure my mother would have preferred them on someone’s feet than sitting around in a box. I’m going to head inside and clean up.”

  * * *

  “Now, don’t you be giving me the evil eye like that.” Trapper wagged a finger at Jane once they were back in the stable.

  “You didn’t tell me these were his mother’s.” Jane unbuckled the girth and drew Ginger’s saddle off. “Why not?”

  “Gives you two something to talk about, don’t it?” Trapper reached for the saddle, but Jane slapped his hands away. “You wanted to ask about his folks, now you have a reason.”

  “I’ve got this.” She glared at him when he tried to help again. “And since when do Leo and I need help finding a topic of conversation?” She grabbed hold of the saddle and pulled. Too hard apparently because her head went light and the room spun. “Uh-oh.” Her knees buckled and she hit the ground. Hard. “Oh, wow. Ow.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut as nausea washed over her and pain sliced through her head. For the second time, she saw an image of herself, but not herself, laughing and singing and carrying on before she flipped her long hair over her shoulder.

  Jane shuddered, tried to cling to the memory even as the sight vanished behind her eyes. That emptiness, that void she’d been so determined to ignore, had filled, before evaporating again.

  “Lordy, little girl. What did you do?” Trapper yanked the saddle free of her other hand while Ollie moved in to press his nose against her suddenly clammy face. “What hurts? Is it your head? Did you knock it again?”

  “My head’s been fine,” Jane reassured him and reassured Ollie with a pet. That image was so odd. It looked like her, but didn’t feel like her. Didn’t sound like her. But then, did anyone ever sound like they expected themselves to? “I’m fine. Just...maybe you’re right. I did too much today.” She’d been nervous at first, climbing on Ginger’s back, but the second she was settled in the saddle, she’d felt...free. The beating sun hadn’t mattered. The dust and dirt didn’t matter. All she’d wanted to do was ride.

  “I’ll get Leo.”

  “You will not.” Jane locked a hand around the old man’s thin arm. “I mean it, Trapper.” She took a long, deep breath and willed the pain in her head to go away. No such luck. The throbbing, bass-deep thudding was back. “There’s nothing Leo can do except drag me into town to the doctor, and I’m not ready for that.” She winced. “Not yet.” But she knew the time was coming. The headaches hadn’t stopped. She’d just gotten used to them. And the last thing she needed was dizzy spells.

  “You trying to get me killed, little girl?” Trapper crouched in front of her, and for the first time since she’d known him, she saw genuine concern in his gray eyes. “Leo finds out about this, I’ll be a pelt on that living room floor of his.”

  “Leo isn’t going to find out because neither one of us is going to tell him.” And if she had to, she’d leave Trapper out of it. “Please, Trapper. I’m feeling better already. If we tell him, he’s just going to plunk me on that couch for the rest of the day, and that might just drive me out of my mind.”

  The temptation to do just that was something she had to fight against every day. Inside that house she felt safe, where nothing—and no one—could touch her. This morning had been the first morning in over a month where she hadn’t looked over her shoulder after stepping outside. “I’m already antsy for something more to do around here. No offense to the horses and you.”

  “You’ll take one of those pain pills when you go inside?” Trapper didn’t look convinced. “And you’ll take it easy the rest of the day?”

  “I will. Cross my heart.” She made the motion to be safe.

  “This happens again, I’ll tell him. I don’t take to keeping secrets. You understand me?”

  “I do. And it won’t happen again. Now, help me up.” She was still feeling a bit shaky, but once she was on her feet again, her stomach righted itself. But her head still hurt. “Let’s get Ginger—”

  Trapper cut her off. “You get yourself inside and clean up. I’ll take care of her.” He shooed her away as if she was a hoard of flies.

  “I told you, I’m fine.” But she didn’t feel fine. Her ears were ringing, and she swore she heard sirens in the distance. Her imagination again. Her mind playing tricks on her. She was getting really tired of the tricks.

  “Fine enough, you can do as you’re told,” Trapper ordered. “Now git. Ollie, you, too.”

  Ollie whined and pushed his head up under Jane’s hand.

  Because she knew it would irritate him, she gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “You really are a sweet man, Trapper.”

  “I am not,” Trapper grumbled after her, but that only made Jane laugh as she headed into the house, Ollie by her side.

  * * *

  “Hey, Daria.” Sheriff Trey Colton rapped a knuckle on Deputy Daria Bloom’s door and poked his head in. “Heading out for lunch. Can I bring you back anything? Since it looks as if you’ve cemented yourself to that chair.”

  Daria blinked herself out of her Hunting the Avalanche Killer trance and reached for the stone-cold coffee she’d forgotten to drink. “Sorry, lost in thought. Was there something you wanted?” She sniffed at the cup and decided she wasn’t that hard up. Yet. Daria leaned back in her creaky, wheeled chair and shoved her fingers into her tangled, curly hair.

  When Trey stepped inside and closed the door, her feet hit the ground and she sat forward. “Uh-oh. What have I done?” Her mind raced through the past twenty-four hours, wondering if she’d said something to someone that had hit the front page of the paper. Or worse, was circulating through town. Did he know? Had he somehow found out she was a Colton? She wasn’t ready to deal with all that. Not yet. Not until she had thought out every fallout scenario.

  “When was the last time you were home?” Trey crossed his arms over his chest and turned those dark, laser beam eyes on her.

  “Ah, a while ago.” She scrubbed tired hands over her face, hiding her relief. “Long enough to grab a shower and a change of clothes.”

  “What about sleep? You thinking about getting some?”

  Daria chewed the inside of her cheek and reminded herself that while they were technically related and she considered Trey a friend, he was also her boss. “I’m always thinking about sleep,” she said with a too-innocent smile. Translation: she’d sleep when they put the case to bed. “Hey, it’s lunchtime, right?”

  Trey’s jaw locked. “Figured you didn’t hear
a word I said. I’m actually on my way out, and I’ll be bringing you back something.”

  “What?” Knowing Trey and how he liked to tease her, he’d slide an avocado club sandwich under her nose. Daria shuddered. She hated avocado.

  “I think that’s what I should be asking. You heard about Levi McEwan, right?”

  “Small-time drug dealer we’ve put away at least three times?” She’d had a few run-ins with him over the years. Harmless for the most part. Except for the fact he was selling poison on the streets. “What’s he done now?”

  “Something that got him killed, apparently. Hikers found his body in the woods near the gas station off Roundabout Road. Stabbed enough times to make Caesar jealous. They think he’s been dead a few days.”

  “Rage killing from a dissatisfied customer?” Try as she might, Daria couldn’t quite bring herself to feel sorry for the loss, other than for Levi’s grandmother. Someone was going to have to tell her he wasn’t coming home.

  “Probably. Forensics should have fun with the scene. Either way, it’s on the books if you need a palate cleanser.”

  “I don’t, but thanks.” The Avalanche Killer was more than enough for now.

  “What’s going on? You keep staring at that board as if it’s going to speak to you.” Trey pushed off the door and approached the magnetic whiteboard Daria had wedged into her office. But it wasn’t the topography images, forensic photos or the newspaper headlines that he was focusing on. He stared at the photograph of Sabrina Gilford. “What’s it saying?”

  “Truthfully?” Daria gnawed on her cheek. “I don’t think the Avalanche Killer killed Sabrina.”

  “What’s your evidence?”

  Daria let out a laugh. “Oh, that. Yeah. Don’t have any. What I do have is—”

  “Your gut.” Trey didn’t miss a beat. “One of the reasons I knew you’d be able to handle this case. You mention this to our FBI friend?”

  “Stefan?” Daria resisted the urge to clear her throat and fidget. “No. Not directly, anyway.” Whenever she was around Very Special Agent Stefan Roberts, talking wasn’t the first thing that came to mind. Compartmentalization was a talent of hers. Or at least it had been before Stefan had turned up. Easy on the eyes and honorably dedicated to the job, Stefan was also fairly uncomplicated to work with. For a Fed. If Daria was completely honest with herself, uncomplicated worked to her advantage. Stefan was someone with access to information she wanted—information she needed—if she was ever going to track down her mother. Daria had exhausted all her database possibilities, but a Fed had other avenues...

  “Did I lose you again?”

  “Sorry, what?” Daria blinked again.

  Trey just arched that brow again. Feeling her cheeks warm, she shook her head and refocused. “With each of the bodies we found, there was this odd feeling of caring about them. The way the arms were crossed, as if they were sleeping. And look, here. The necklace on her is perfectly centered. It’s all the little details. But with Sabrina...” She stood up and joined him at the board, gestured at the image that showed how Sabrina Gilford had been buried. “She looks tossed aside. Discarded. As if he was angry. Even though location and manner are perfect.”

  “Too perfect?”

  “Maybe.” Daria shoved her hands in the back pockets of her navy uniform slacks. “Sabrina’s different. And different, to me, says someone else killed her, but that someone else must have known the details. How else would he have known where to leave her? How to leave her.” She looked to Trey for guidance, for reassurance she wasn’t totally off the rails. “He knows who the Avalanche Killer is, Trey. He’s using him to cover up his own crime.”

  Trey shifted slightly, his accessing eye catching on the image of Skye Colton tacked to the top left corner of the board.

  Daria’s stomach twisted. She knew what the sheriff was thinking. The same thing she’d been thinking when she’d garnered the courage to put up Skye’s photo in the vicinity of the Avalanche Killer. She hadn’t wanted to. The very idea that his cousin might be the murderer’s latest victim made her sick to her stomach. Skye was one of the bright, shining beacons of the Colton family. A heart of gold with a mind like a steel trap. Whip-smart, determined and savvy. For the most part.

  Hooking up with record producer Brock Madsen hadn’t been Skye’s most impressive move, especially not with her social media presence being so prolific and attention-grabbing. As far as Daria was concerned, putting your entire relationship up for public consumption spoke more of insecurity and desperation than social interaction. Disappearing the way Skye had after getting very publicly dumped probably hadn’t been the best course of action, either. Now it had been weeks since anyone had heard from Skye. Normally Daria wouldn’t be concerned, but given how close Skye and her twin sister, Phoebe, were...

  “Any word?”

  “On Skye? No.” Daria swallowed the fear. “The missing persons alert hasn’t earned us anything other than false leads and people looking for gossip, and these days people barely notice missing persons flyers. We have an APB out for her car, which, since it’s red and impractical, stands out like two sore thumbs. We’ve got a warrant request for her banking records and credit cards. I’ve got Gerard going up to The Chateau today to talk to Phoebe and other members of the family again in case they’ve remembered anything more that might help.” Gerard might not be the most likable of the other deputies in the department, but he got the job done. They had the best deputies in Colorado on the job. “We’re rolling out patrols to the outlying areas and smaller towns. We’ll find her.”

  “Yeah, but will we find her alive?”

  “I hope so.” Daria’s gaze slipped back to the other victims. If she was right and there were two killers, Skye’s chances of survival seemed nil. “I really hope so.”

  * * *

  The lunch of tuna sandwiches, coleslaw and BBQ potato chips didn’t sit well in her stomach. And it wasn’t the burnt chocolate chip cookies Leo had made for dessert. Truth be told, Jane wasn’t entirely sure why she was feeling sick, but the sensation had struck the second they turned onto the highway after lunch.

  Leo had driven them to a beautiful picnic spot overlooking the edge of the town. He’d pointed out other farms and ranches and helped establish her bearings as far as what was where in Roaring Springs. He told her as much history about the town as he knew, from its founding by historic families, including the Coltons and Gilfords, to the still-bitter emotions that ran as deep as a Roaring Springs lake over the family’s commercialization of the area. An odd feeling panged in her stomach, as if the name or even the story should mean something to her. If Leo noticed her self-imposed and confused silence, he didn’t let on.

  As it was a weekday, they’d been alone. Ollie had probably enjoyed the stop the most as he spent his time bounding about chasing bees and butterflies, and the occasional dandelion tuft. If Leo had been biding his time and watching the clock, she hadn’t noticed. Except now she began to wonder...

  As they bounced along the highway in Leo’s truck, Jane dug her fingers into Ollie’s coat and the dog turned his head toward her, his expression asking what was wrong. “Where are we going, exactly?” Her throat felt tight, as if the question was going to snap under the pressure of her growing anxiety.

  “Since the police still aren’t an option, I’m testing a theory.”

  Leo’s explanation didn’t help. If anything, it only raised more questions. “How is that an errand?” An errand was grocery shopping or picking up ranch supplies or...honestly? She’d thought he was trying to trick her into going to the doctor.

  Every time she looked at the road ahead, she felt dizzy again. Nauseated. She tried to focus on the tree line as they sped past, but even that was making her a bit carsick. The farther they drove, the more nervous she got. Her skin prickled as if a million fire ants had skittered up her spine.

  “Stop.” She gripp
ed the door handle and might have snapped it open if the lock hadn’t been secure. “Leo, stop the truck, please.”

  He glanced over at her before doing as she asked. The tires ground in the dirt and rocks as he pulled over to the side of the road.

  Jane jumped out and dived for the trees, where she threw up her lunch. Humiliated, cold and sweaty, she stepped back, bracing one hand on the trunk of a nearby tree and caught her breath. Leo was right there, cold water bottle in hand, Ollie at his side.

  “Darlin’?” Leo stroked her back soothingly. “You okay?”

  “Sorry. Better here than in your truck.” She tried to make light of it after washing out her mouth and drinking, but couldn’t. Maybe Trapper was right. She should have told Leo about the dizzy spell. And that the headaches weren’t getting any better. And that she couldn’t stop hearing...

  She looked over Leo’s shoulder. The road. The curve of the road. The trees... “I know this place. I’ve...been here.” Her gaze shifted back to his. “That night. This was where I was running from. After the shed, I broke through the trees. There.” She pointed before facing him and narrowed her eyes. “You knew. How?”

  “I suspected.” The cursory nod killed that anxiety she’d been feeling and replaced it with irritation.

  “You knew and you didn’t tell me? You didn’t warn me this is where we were going?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve dealt with trauma before. What the mind loses, or chooses to forget, sometimes the body remembers. I was watching you in the truck. The closer we got to this place, the more antsy you became. I could feel it. Ollie could, too. And now we have a place to start.”

  A place to start. “Guess you’re in a rush to get rid of me after all.”

  “You know I’m not.”

  That same growl of frustration built up in her throat again. Was there anything that got under his skin? Did he always have to be so freaking calm all the time? So rational and reasonable and... She sagged back against the tree. Did he always have to be so right?