by Addison Fox
Appreciated the opportunity to get her bearings around people.
The side benefit was that she’d learned to read people. She’d developed a sense of what made them tick and, often, what motivated them.
And that’s where Donovan Colton tripped her up. It was obvious he was crazy about his dog. Along with that she took him at face value as a good, honorable cop. Even his reticence to share his thoughts on her case were steeped in following protocol, which she could—and did—respect.
So why the subtle sense that he was almost desperate to prove his place in the world?
She’d thought it earlier when he’d spoken of the pizza. He might be from Whisperwood but there was a distinct note of dissonance, that he clearly felt he didn’t belong here. Nor did he have much love for his hometown. Again, she couldn’t define how she knew that, she simply did.
“Are you all right now?” Donovan asked.
“Yeah. I feel better.”
“Do you want anything else to eat?”
“No.” She rubbed her stomach, the crying jag having left her raw and hollowed out. “I’m good.”
“You mind if I feed Alex, then? And we can talk after.”
“Go ahead.”
Donovan ducked out of the kitchen and after some murmured words to Alex, she heard her front door click shut. Alex trotted into the kitchen in the wake of his master’s departure, his tail wagging and his gentle brown eyes alert as he took her in.
“You’re such a pretty boy.” Bellamy picked up a plastic bowl she’d filled for him earlier and freshened the water. His nails tapped on her hardwood floor as he walked over to the bowl, his gaze on her until he dropped his head to the water and drank his fill.
Even in something so simple and natural, she knew the dog was alert and keen to his surroundings. What fascinated her was how attuned he was to her. It didn’t take much to know Donovan’s directive to the animal had been to watch over her. What she didn’t know was what she was going to do when they had to leave.
Or how she’d fight back against the inevitable threat when it came at her once more.
Chapter Four
While Alex dived into his dinner, Donovan left his partner to his food and walked back into the dining room. Bellamy stood arrow straight, her head slightly bowed as her hands trailed over a small sideboard. She stared down at a series of photos and even from where he stood he could see she focused on one in particular.
“Are those your parents?”
“Yes.” She tapped one of the photos. “This was their fiftieth anniversary.”
He did the quick math in his head, surprised to realize they had been so old. “Do you have a lot of brothers and sisters?”
“No, just me and my younger sister, Magnolia. Maggie,” she quickly added.
“Then your parents were older when they had children? Because there’s no way you’re close to fifty.”
She turned away from the photo, the aimless energy that seemed to grip her at the sideboard fading as he asked her about her life. “Yes. And that photo was taken about six years ago. Before my father—” She hesitated, then continued, “Before his health declined. My mother’s followed on the heels of that.”
“I’m sorry for that.”
And he was. While Donovan took full credit for the personal challenges he had with his own family, he loved them. It had been hard to see his father struggle the past couple of years as he was naturally forced to slow down from his normal routine—racing around the ranch, flying places for his business interests or evenings out entertaining. And his mother, for all her bright and happy chatter, carried the burdens of age, as well. She’d let go of a few commitments over the past few years, preferring events that didn’t have her driving at night.
He supposed it was the natural order of things, but it didn’t mean it hadn’t been a transition.
“What about you?” Bellamy asked. “Any brothers or sisters?”
“Oh, the Colton family is a prolific one. I’m one of four, all older than me, and I come from a family that’s even larger.”
“That must be nice.”
“Most of the time.” Donovan avoided mentioning when it wasn’t, especially since he had relatives who’d both spent time in jail for heinous crimes. While he knew his extended family didn’t reflect on him, he was well aware there were places in Texas and beyond where the Colton name didn’t win any fans.
How funny, then, that his parents were the antithesis. They’d been more than willing to take him in, nearly falling over themselves to make him part of the family. To save him, that poor little abandoned soul, dropped into their midst.
“You don’t like coming from a big family?”
I don’t like feeling like an outsider with all those eyes watching.
He never had. But like the black sheep branch of his family, he refused to mention anything. Instead, he focused on the positive and the values his mother had impressed upon him.
“It has its moments. I can do without everyone being in each other’s business. But it is nice knowing I have so many people to count on.”
Her gaze flitted back to the photos at the edge of the sideboard before shifting determinedly back to him. “People to count on. That must be nice.”
Alex trotted into the room, his dinner at an end and his guard duties back in place as he took a seat facing the two of them. The overwhelming events of the day—and the danger that lurked beneath—still seemed like a dream. Because she wanted to keep it that way for a few hours more, Bellamy focused on the dog. “I should probably let you both go. I’ll be fine for tonight and then I can come in and make a statement tomorrow, if that’s okay? I’m suddenly not up for getting into a recounting of my afternoon once again.”
Exhaustion rode Bellamy’s features, with dark smudges settling beneath her eyes postcrying jag. He didn’t want to leave her but he hardly had a reason to stay, either. “I’m scheduled to meet with the chief tomorrow morning at ten. I would like to get your statement before then.”
“How about if I come into the station at eight?” A hard laugh escaped her chest. “It’s not like I have to go into work, after all.”
She’d mentioned the job earlier, right before she was overcome with the emotions of the day. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it now?”
“Can it wait? I promise I’ll tell you everything. Including anything that may become clearer overnight.”
“You have a deal, then.”
“Oh. Wait.” The bum’s rush wasn’t lost on him, so he was surprised when she stopped him. “I don’t have a car.”
“Alex and I can swing by and pick you up. I’ll even include a stop at the coffee place in town.”
“You don’t have to—”
He reached for her hand, the move meant to reassure, but the sudden stop of her words hung heavy between them.
“It’s okay. I can give you a hand. And it’s not like Whisperwood is this sprawling metropolis. You’re like a two-minute detour after I turn into town.”
“Okay, then.”
In moments she had him bustled out her front door, the rest of the pizza in his hands. As he opened the door of his SUV for Alex to hop in, Donovan couldn’t avoid the impressions that had bombarded him over the past few hours. Where he’d initially seen a woman dealing with a difficult circumstance, those moments when she stared at her photos suggested something else.
Something more.
Bellamy Reeves was a lonely woman. And if his instincts were correct, she was dealing with something far beyond her understanding.
* * *
JENSEN TAYLOR SCROLLED impatiently through the news articles on his tablet, hunting for anything that might mention the incident in the parking lot at LSP. His father, Sutton, had been touch and go in the hospital for the pa
st few weeks, a private matter Jensen had deliberately kept from the employees at LSP, but the old man had rallied over the past few days.
He’d inevitably be fielding phone calls if Sutton caught wind of a bomb detonating in the LSP parking lot.
He and his father did well keeping their distance—emotional and, when Jensen could manage it, physical—and the hospital stay had helped that even more. Jensen saw no reason to change that. He played the devoted son when it was warranted and then went about living his life the rest of the time. Now that Jensen’s mother was dead, the situation worked well for them both.
Of course, cars blowing up in the LSP parking lot were likely to draw the old man’s attention, no matter how poorly he felt. His father had been lingering at a private facility south of Austin, but he hadn’t died. Public problems at LSP might give Sutton the ammunition to recover fully and that was the last thing Jensen needed.
All he had to do was convince the old man he had it under control.
It was his only choice.
He had little interest—actually, make that no interest—in pharmaceuticals, but he’d be damned if any of his father’s bastards would get a piece of his legacy. The old man had already suggested he wanted to open up a new position on the leadership team for the moment one of his brats finished business school.
Oh, that was a big, Texas-sized hell no.
This was the only way to manage things and ensure his father’s far-too-generous heart didn’t ruin Jensen’s future.
The entire situation had a funny sort of justice to it. His father had always played the field, his simpering mother just living with it while she flitted around as society matron of their hick town. Then his mother died and instead of publicly playing the field after an appropriate mourning period, poor Sutton was all sick and weak.
Justice at its finest.
LSP might have turned Whisperwood into one of the largest suburbs outside of Austin but it was still central Texas. Small freaking potatoes. But that hadn’t stopped his father. The man had worked his playboy magic from one end of the Hill Country to the other. His mother had ignored it all, seeming to believe all that mattered was the large house Sutton had built for her, visible to anyone who drove a few blocks off of Whisperwood’s main drag.
They really were a pair.
Jensen hadn’t spent much time worrying if the two of them loved each other, but he had taken a few notes for himself on the type of woman who’d make a good partner. He could do with one who had his mother’s penchant for living in ignorant bliss. Sadly, the last few women he’d dated hadn’t fit the bill.
Resigned to worry about it later, Jensen shot a quick email to his father, assuring him all was well and to continue to rest and focus on getting better.
“Wanted you to hear it from me. Absolutely nothing to worry about. A holiday prank gone bad,” Jensen muttered as he typed up a quick note and shot it off. He’d know by morning if the old man had bought it.
In the meantime, he wanted to do a bit of digging.
And figure out just what Bellamy Reeves knew.
* * *
BELLAMY GATHERED HER hair up in a twist, clipping the dark brown mass. Then she added a few quick swipes of mascara to her eyes for good measure. She’d spent a restless night and was well aware there was no amount of makeup that could cover the bags beneath her eyes.
“More like potato sacks,” she acknowledged to herself as she added one last swipe of the mascara wand.
Standing back to assess her image in the mirror, she was pleased to see the mascara had at least made her look a bit more human. Zombie TV shows might be popular but no one wanted a monster walking down the Main Street of Whisperwood at eight in the morning.
The lack of a car was a problem, but she’d deal with that after she made her statement to Donovan. She’d already logged in the night before and started the claim process with her insurance company. The automated email she got back confirmed someone would call her today to keep the process moving.
Making one final effort to look human with a pass of her lip gloss, she grabbed a light jacket from her closet and went to wait in the front room for Donovan. The oppressive weight of the day before faded a bit as she thought about the strong, capable man and his dog.
They were an impressive pair. The dog was both obedient and clearly in love with his master, the big eyes and devoted stare something to see. She couldn’t stop the small smile at the image they made, the affection in Donovan’s eyes for the large black Lab proof he was equally smitten. It was sweet to see. And made a good-looking man even more attractive.
Along with her dad’s advice, she’d also read once on a dating blog that three signs to watch for in a prospective mate were how they behaved with waiters, how they spoke in conflict and how they treated animals. From what she could see, Donovan Colton passed all three tests with flying colors.
It had been one of the things she still remembered about that night so long ago when he’d come into the store with a sweet little puppy. That mix of concern and care for an animal was an obvious clue to his personality.
Unbidden, the rest of that long-ago evening filled her thoughts. The easy conversation and subtle flirtation. Even the clear stamp of interest in his gaze. She’d been more interested than she could describe and had wanted to see him again.
Of course, all that had been forgotten once the news of her parents’ accident was delivered. And all that had come after had changed her life in ways she never could have imagined.
So how odd that he was back. That he was the one who’d been in Whisperwood and taken the call for her car. And that he was the one she’d now share her story with.
Engine sounds purred from her driveway and a glance out the front window indicated her chariot had arrived. She picked up her things and let herself out of the house, surprised when either Donovan or Alex were nowhere in sight.
“Donovan?” When he didn’t answer she hollered. “Donovan!”
His voice was muffled but came back from the opposite side of the yard. “Be right there! Stay at the door.”
She stood still, curious to where he and his K-9 partner vanished to, but willing to follow the direction. She was nearly ready to go looking for them when Donovan reached her just as she was turning the key in the lock.
“Good morning, Bellamy.”
“Oh!” She’d expected to meet him at the car, so the large frame and imposing presence was a surprise. “You didn’t have to... I mean, I could have come to you.”
“This is door-to-door service, ma’am. Even when I make you wait while Alex and I check the perimeter.” He smiled and mimed tipping an imaginary hat. “It’s part of the Texas gentleman’s code.”
She swallowed hard around the idea her perimeter even required checking and opted for a shot of dark humor. “The Texas gentleman’s code? Is that a euphemism for politely escorting a suspect to the police station?”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew they’d missed the mark. The anxiety that had kept her company throughout a restless night—including the fear that something horrible at LSP was somehow being blamed on her—had taken root and wouldn’t let go.
But it was the frown that marred his face—matched to an equally disappointed light in his eyes—that had her rethinking the remark.
“This is nothing but routine.”
“It may be for you, but it’s not every day my car blows up and I follow it up with a visit to the police to make a statement.”
“Did you do it?”
“What?” The sheer shock his question gave her had her mouth dropping, her momentary concern at possibly offending him fading away. “You think I did that? To my car? To my stuff? Why would I do that? And possibly kill myself in the process?”
Donovan had already walked her to his SUV, his expression tu
rning serious as he put his hand on the car door handle. “I don’t think anything of the sort. Or I’m trying hard not to, even though my instincts as a cop are to question everything.”
“So you do think I did it?” The words came out prim and stiff and she wanted to sink through the driveway at the small shot of hurt that burrowed beneath her breast.
“I’m asking questions. Just like the chief will do. Just like reporters will do. Keep that hot core of righteous anger and you’ll be just fine.”
Bellamy was about to reply when Donovan pulled the door open. Alex was already in the back seat and she could see the depression marks of a sweeper head over the entire seat, from the back panel to the portion where she’d rest in her neatly pressed clothes. “You vacuumed?”
“Of course. I love Alex but I’m well aware no one wants to wear him.”
“But... I mean...” She stopped, the weird conversation and the added awkwardness of her reaction to his questions slowing her down. She climbed into the SUV seat, but laid a hand on his arm before he could close the door. “Why don’t I try this again? Good morning, Donovan. It’s nice to see you. Thank you for picking me up.”
He smiled once more, a small dimple winking in his cheek when the corners of his lips tilted upward into a relaxed grin. “Good morning, Bellamy. It’s my pleasure.”
He closed the door and she watched him walk around the front of the SUV, more than willing to look her fill unnoticed. He was still as attractive as that night he’d come into her parents’ store, but he’d aged, as well. The rounder cheeks that marked a younger man were gone, replaced with a slight hollowing beneath the bones that set off his features. His jaw seemed harder than she remembered and there was a solidness to his frame that was rougher. Worn.
No, she amended to herself, experienced.
Age worked itself on every person in a myriad of ways, but experience left a different sort of mark. It stamped itself on the body by way of bearing and attitude, words and gestures.
He fascinates me.
The words popped into her mind, unbidden, but she gave them room to grow and the space to breathe.