Grayson laughed. “Oh, you’re really a hoot, aren’t you, Oliver? Even if I needed your money, assuming you still have any after disappearing that way, no way would I take it.”
And on the ground near Zane, Schuyler was shouting, “You SOB,” and clearly attempting to get closer to him by edging along on the stone base.
Grayson didn’t need to stop him. Three cops were suddenly at the entrance to the bunker, followed by Savannah. None of them appeared to be taking her into custody, fortunately.
As the two other uniformed officers, probably the same ones Grayson had glimpsed at Zane’s house, took Zane and Schuyler into custody, cuffing them and reciting their rights, Spencer came over to Grayson, who now stood near one of the rough stone walls.
Spencer looked a lot younger than he really was—but he had a good reputation as a cop. He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes, and usually had a keen sense of humor—although he looked awfully serious right now. “Okay, cuz. Why didn’t you tell me before what was going on? You were helping a wanted fugitive all this time, and you now have recorded proof of her innocence? I should arrest all four of you, then figure this all out.”
“You know I won’t run away, so if you learn something different from what I told you—which you won’t—you can arrest me then. And I believe that Savannah feels the same way.”
She had approached them, and now nodded. “I’m innocent. I said so all along, and you finally have proof. You’re taking the man I allegedly murdered into custody, Sergeant Colton. I’ve already handed Zane’s gun to you. And I won’t run away again. I don’t think I have to. In fact, I suspect I’ll need to go to the police station now, right? But you don’t have to cuff me or anything.”
Grayson couldn’t help it. He drew near Savannah and put his arm around her, smiling triumphantly at his cousin. “Thanks to this wonderful lady, you’re going to be the primary cop to solve this situation,” Grayson told him. “You’ll get recognition for it. I think you’ll be thanking me soon.”
“Don’t count on it,” Spencer said—but then he smiled. “I gather the two of you are more than first responder and rescued soul.”
“Count on that,” Grayson said, giving Savannah a kiss.
* * *
It finally appeared really to be over. Savannah felt overjoyed.
Oh, she did accompany Grayson to the police station, as his cousin, the police sergeant, insisted. But no one took her into custody then, either, although she did have to make an official statement.
Sergeant Spencer Colton apparently called an EMT, not one of Grayson’s employees, to check his cousin out after the car accident. Fortunately, except for some bruising, especially on his head, he apparently was fine.
Afterward, standing in the station’s reception area, Savannah was told by the police chief that the situation remained under investigation and she was not to leave town.
“Tell us where we’ll be able to find you,” said the tall and mostly bald Chief Al Barco.
“I—” Savannah tried to answer, but she didn’t know what to say. She would prefer not to return to the bunker or the cabin, and certainly not Zane’s guesthouse, which she’d been staying in.
“For now, she’ll be staying with me, at the Triple R,” Grayson broke in and gave the address. “And here’s her current phone number.” He provided the burner phone’s number to the cop.
His family home? That sounded wonderful to Savannah. But was it a good idea?
“Sounds good,” the chief said. He had been regarding her sternly, but now he smiled. “I’ve got a feeling we’re going to have no further official interest in you, but stay tuned. We’ll have to let you know.”
“Of course,” Savannah said. She wished he’d been more positive, but at least there was reason for hope now. A lot of reasons.
“I think you’ve got some investigating to do,” Grayson added. “You have a couple of killers in custody, and one of them’s allegedly a dead guy.”
Chief Barco laughed. “Let’s see how that all works out,” he said.
“Yes,” said Grayson. “Let’s see.” He took Savannah’s hand and began leading her out of the station.
Sergeant Colton came over to them. “I haven’t completely forgiven you,” he said to Grayson, but he looked at Savannah and winked.
A cop winked at her! For some reason, that made Savannah feel a whole lot better. She was free now, hopefully forever.
“What’ll it take for you to forgive me?” Grayson said.
“Keep me better informed next time, for one thing.”
“I just hope there’s no next time, at least not like this,” Grayson said, and Savannah could only smile and nod her concurrence.
They left the station. But now what? It was dark outside. And Savannah knew her ultimate goal that night was Grayson’s home.
Bad idea? Oh, she loved the idea of being with him longer. He had done all he had promised, and it appeared that she was exonerated from the charges that had disrupted her life so horribly.
She really liked the guy. More than that. She had certainly come to care for him, a lot. Probably too much. But in some ways there was no reason for them to stay close together any longer.
Even though she knew she would really like that.
But she had vowed not to get involved with any other men after her ugly divorce —and she wasn’t sure she could so easily trust another guy so deeply, after what Zane had done.
Did she dare get even more involved with Grayson now?
They did stop for dinner at a nice restaurant on their way home, an Italian place. And for once Savannah was hungry.
She wished she could pay. She should be able to soon, since she would be able to get access to her bank account and other assets.
But for now—well, Grayson said he would pay, and she let him.
This time.
And next time? There had to be a next time. This simply could not be the end of his being in her life.
She hoped.
But she wasn’t certain. And she felt tears fill her eyes as they headed back to Grayson’s car.
Chapter 22
Grayson knew his home would never feel the same again.
Savannah and he had stopped for dinner last night after leaving the police station. Savannah had seemed quite happy that her food was warm and fresh for a change, and the restaurant was filled with people—although apparently no one who knew her. At least no one said hi, or pointed at her.
He’d driven them to the ranch after that in an SUV he’d rented temporarily while his car was being fixed.
Savannah and he had walked to his portion of the house and he’d shown her into a guest room.
But she hadn’t stayed there. No, they’d celebrated the recent happenings by spending the night in bed together, in the most enjoyable way possible.
He loved it. He loved her. And this simply couldn’t be the last night they spent together.
In the morning, they had gone out to a fast-food place for breakfast, and Grayson told Savannah he was taking her back to his office for now.
“I’ve got something I need to do at the ranch,” he said as they finished eating.
“I understand,” she said. “Are you going to check with your brothers and sisters and stepmom about how your father is doing?”
“That, too, maybe. But—well, like my siblings, as you know, that wing in the main house where we stayed last night is my own. You are welcome to stay in the guestroom there as long as you want.”
“Oh.” Her expression, as she looked down at her empty plate, appeared downcast. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll find another place very soon.”
“No,” he said firmly and fast, not wanting to even ask where she had in mind—and assuming she didn’t yet. “You won’t. And that doesn’t mean we won’t see each other. It simply means we’ll each
have our own space, so we can decide how much time we will spend together.”
Like forever? That was the thought that rolled through his mind. Damn it, he had fallen for Savannah.
Did he want to spend the rest of his life with her? Well, maybe. He certainly felt more for her than he had for any other woman. But she’d just gotten a divorce—was she ready to trust again?
Could he trust that she would stay with him forever if she seemed ready to make a commitment?
He walked her back to his office building and made sure his staff had started to arrive. He was amused at how Winchell demanded Savannah’s attention, which she gave without reservation, kneeling on the floor and hugging the smart and skilled search and rescue dog.
He had not been able to bring Savannah here before, not while she was a fugitive, so the people on his staff didn’t yet know her. After introducing Savannah to them, he told them her current status: unofficially exonerated from committing a murder.
Of course all of them, Norah in particular, became highly excited for Savannah and demanded to hear how that had happened.
“Go ahead and tell them,” Grayson said to her. “I’ve got to get on my way. See you all soon.”
He drove back to the ranch, half wishing he could have stayed to hear how they all discussed what had happened yesterday—and also get a sense for where Savannah’s mind was now, what she thought her future might contain. He would make sure she had a place to stay and anything else she needed, of course, whether or not it was at the ranch. But he had come to know her well enough to feel certain she would make plans for what came next, then implement them.
With his involvement? If so, how much?
He now hoped they would stay in each other’s lives, at least a little. Maybe a lot.
He soon drove back through the gate at the Rattlesnake Ridge Ranch and parked in an empty spot near the car he recognized as Asher’s. He assumed his other siblings weren’t around just then, which was fine.
In fact, his younger half brother was a good one to talk to about how things were going with the family. Asher was actually the ranch foreman.
Of course Asher might be in the stable or out on the grounds, but Grayson entered the main ranch house, planning to go up to his wing on the second floor. But hearing a noise from the kitchen, he figured he had better stop in and say hi to whoever was there, Asher or staff or someone else, rather than startling someone with his presence. He walked through the living room, with its luxurious, floor to ceiling walls and exposed beam ceiling of the open living room. He also passed the dining room, as always taking in how nice this place was, with its wooden floors and lots of trim and expensive decorations.
“Hi, bro. It’s a surprise to see you wandering around here at this hour.” Asher had just exited the kitchen, a mug of coffee in his hand. “You just picking something up, or—”
“I’ll be hanging around here more now,” Grayson told him. “And you’ll probably be hearing in the news the reason why.”
“Yeah? Tell me.” They first went back into the kitchen where Grayson, too, got a mug of coffee, then headed into the living room and sat facing one another.
Asher looked like a perfect foreman, Grayson thought, not for the first time. His younger brother certainly looked like a cowboy, with longish dark brown hair, a slight brush of facial hair that included a dark goatee, and a casual denim shirt and slacks that appeared entirely appropriate for horseback riding. All he needed was a cowboy hat, but since they were inside, that wasn’t likely at the moment.
Even better, Asher was dedicated to the ranch and to making certain everything went well there—especially important now, with their father in a coma.
“So what’s going on?” Asher asked right away.
Grayson told him, keeping the story brief but starting from finding the dead van driver, then Savannah hiding in a fishing cabin, and ending with her exoneration yesterday. “And till she figures out where to go and what to do, I’m letting her stay in my guest room. And—”
The doorbell rang. One of their staff hurried to open it, but Asher headed that way, and so did Grayson, partly out of curiosity.
A man stood there, and he looked vaguely familiar. He immediately looked toward the two brothers while the maid left the entry. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Jace Smith and—well, I think I’m your brother, the real Ace Colton. Can I come in? I’d like to talk to you.”
* * *
Grayson felt as if he’d been hit over the head. Really? He didn’t spend a lot of time around here with family, but he certainly tried to keep up with the news about Ace. Sure, they’d been told Ace wasn’t their brother by blood.
But it seemed a shock to have someone come in like that and claim to be that real sibling.
“Sure, come in,” said Asher, beside him, and they all stepped aside.
Grayson studied the man some more. No weapons—or malice—apparent. If he truly was the real Ace, then they’d have shared a mother, Tessa, along with sister Ainsley. He did have dark hair and blue eyes like they did.
Tons of questions immediately began forming in Grayson’s mind. This stranger was his brother? Really? Could he prove it?
The maid returned to the kitchen when Asher asked and Jace said he’d like some coffee, too. Soon, they were all seated in the living room looking at one another—although Grayson noticed that Jace was also glancing at the high-quality decorations around the room.
“So tell us more,” Grayson said, taking a sip of his own coffee, forcing his hands not to tremble. This was strange timing, that he happened to be here when this guy arrived. Was Jace for real? Or was he just some guy off the street who had heard about the family issue and decided to take advantage of it?
“Well, I’d been told a little while ago that I might be the real Ace Colton,” Jace responded, “and the earthquake made me realize I’d better check it out sooner rather than waiting any longer, before I lose any opportunity to find out.” He said he had heard from a friend who was a nurse that there was a switch of newborn babies at Mustang Valley General Hospital on Christmas Day forty years ago—his birthday.
“My mother is Luella Smith,” he said, which made both Grayson and Asher sit up straighter. Jace explained that he hadn’t spoken to Luella in many years and didn’t know where to find her to ask questions, but from what that he’d heard, and what he knew about his own early life, he truly thought he could have been switched at birth. “I’d be glad to take a DNA test,” he finished. “I’ve always felt there was something more to my childhood, and I’ve been looking for where I belong for as long as I can remember.”
Could it be true? Well, they certainly needed to find out.
What would Ace think about this? About this Jace showing up and making his claims. To Grayson, Ace was still his brother.
“Let’s get everyone together here for dinner tonight,” Asher said, “and we can see what our other siblings think about this. Oh, and Grayson, I think it’s time we also met your lady friend that you saved from prison.”
“I didn’t exactly save her,” he said, but he did agree to bring Savannah to join them for a meal here that night as long as she was okay with it.
He didn’t mind seeing how she fit in with his family. Not that he was ready to ask her to join it...yet. Would that time come?
And these circumstances certainly weren’t the best for her to meet everyone.
* * *
Savannah had had quite a morning. There apparently hadn’t been any emergencies, so she had gotten to talk with Grayson’s first responder employees—Chad, with his dog Winch, Pedro and Norah. They had each told her about their specialties, pasts and how they enjoyed helping other people.
Savannah loved it! She had already been growing somewhat bored with her life, just holding events to collect contributions for the poor and needy. It was too distant and impersonal. What about doing some
thing even more worthwhile, which could directly help people survive? Could she complete what she anticipated to be grueling physical training to become a first responder?
Or was there some way for her to just help Grayson’s first responders as they helped other people?
She’d intended to discuss it more with Grayson, and he’d called her to invite her to dinner with his family tonight at their ranch.
That discussion would have to wait.
He had picked her up early at her request so she could buy a nicer outfit to feel more comfortable meeting his family.
She made a mental note of the cost and added it to the amount she’d been keeping track of to repay Grayson when she got access to her own assets.
Now they were nearly at the ranch. Grayson had told her he had related her story to one of his brothers, so he figured the rest of his siblings were now aware of it.
“Plus,” he said, “that possible brother of ours is going to be there, too.” Grayson had described the situation to her, including the likelihood that the man known as Ace Colton, their oldest brother, was not related to them by blood at all, and that the mysterious Jace Smith now claimed to be the real Ace.
“Do you think, then, that this is the real guy?”
“I guess we’ll find out,” Grayson said as he pulled in through the gate and pulled into a parking spot. near the entry to the main house. “He’s agreed to a DNA test.”
Would she ever want to live here? Staying overnight in Grayson’s suite was okay, but more? That thought came to her as he strode beside her up the wide walkway to the front door. He didn’t knock but opened it.
She was glad she had chosen a dress and heels that appeared elegant enough for this venue, a slate blue dress decorated with white flowers, short sleeved and of a flowing fabric—dressy, yet far from formal. And except for the length of her hair, she knew she looked like herself once more.
Grayson showed her through the living room to the dining room, where most of the seats were occupied. He introduced her to a lot of people, all Coltons—except the guy who was Jace Smith and still, possibly, a Colton.
Colton First Responder (The Coltons 0f Mustang Valley Book 4) Page 22