An Impostor in Town (Colorado Series)

by Denise Moncrief

  “What did you tell him?” His menace drew closer and grew more serious, more urgent, and much more malevolent. He shortened the distance between them in a split second.

  The gun was almost out of her pocket. Many times she had practiced unlocking the safety, aiming it, and pulling the trigger. There were plenty of dead soda cans in the woods around Durango. She’d killed each with a clean shot through the logo. It had scared her a little how good she was with the detestable thing. He was a bigger target. He’d be easy. “Go ahead. Tell him everything. I don’t care anymore.” For once in his pathetic life, he was speechless. She smiled with grin amusement. “Goodbye, Jeff.”

  She released the gun. Her remote beeped as she pressed unlock. Her fingers curled around the door handle. She was almost free. One tap on the lock, and he’d be out of her life.

  His fingers wrapped around her elbow. “Guess who I saw yesterday?” His question stopped her much more than the pressure from his grip. The tone boded evil. She shuddered knowing something awful would follow.

  “Who?”

  “I saw your old boyfriend. He’s in town. Did you know that?” It was obvious he was enjoying himself so much.

  “Cory? Is in town?”

  “Yeah.” He drawled the word into five or six gut-wrenching syllables. “He’d sure like to know where you’re hiding.”

  She shook his hand loose. Stepping back, she studied him—calmly, dispassionately—as if she hadn’t just experienced the most horrendous jolt of her life. “You’re lying.” She suppressed her roiling fears. “You were never a good liar.”

  He leered at her, sending an icy cold chill down her spine. “Maybe I should introduce your ex-boyfriend to your new boyfriend. Don’t you think they would like to meet each other?” He touched the cross pendant as if he knew who gave it to her. She slapped his hand away. She didn’t want it soiled.

  “Have you suddenly got religion?” His sneer circled her and taunted her and pounced on her last nerve.

  She yanked her door open and rushed into the driver’s seat. His hand shot out and stopped the door in mid-swing.

  “I guess you’ll just have to find out if I’m lying, won’t you?”

  She nearly took his fingers off in the process of making her escape. Once inside the car, she jabbed the key at the ignition until it met the keyhole. Tears obscured her vision. The last glimpse she had of him? He was sucking his fingertips and grimacing in pain.

  ****

  Brian conversed with a man in front of the train station. To Peyton’s delight, they ended their conversation and Brian jogged across the street.

  “How’s my angel of mercy today?”

  She slapped him on the shoulder and suppressed a giggle. “Stop calling me that! You embarrass me when you do that.”

  He cringed in mock injury and graced her with an arrogant grin.

  “Who was that man? I don’t think I’ve seen him around.”

  Her question wiped the smile from his face. “Steve West. His construction company is upgrading the lifts at the resort.”

  His response explained nothing. Why did the man’s presence bother Brian? She searched her memory for any information she might have collected on Steve West. She hadn’t even been aware the lifts were being upgraded. That’s how seldom she went up toward Purgatory. She was too preoccupied when she met Jeff at Molas Pass to notice what was going on at Durango Mountain Resort.

  She perceived there was more, so she waited for Brian to continue. He emitted a deep, soul-sifting sigh. “What is it?”

  “That man thinks he may be Chris’ husband.”

  An unexpected development. A thousand thoughts rushed her. What did this mean for Chris? For Brian? For her? “Really?” She allowed only the slightest hint of mild surprise. “What makes him think so?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  She recalled the conversation she’d had with Chris over a year ago. Did Steve West threaten Brian? Chris had suggested Brian wanted to be her knight in shining armor, and he was unhappy with her lack of cooperation. Could Brian be perturbed there was a new knight in town?

  “Peyton?” He nudged her. “Where’d you go?”

  “Sorry. What?”

  “Emily’s wedding is in a few days…”

  What was he getting at? “I know.”

  “So…would you be my date?”

  His invitation shocked her. Was this his way of getting over Chris? By asking her out? “I’ll go with you, but…this isn’t a date.”

  Her abrupt qualification seemed to surprise him. “Oh. Okay. Well then…yeah, we’ll go together.”

  ****

  The reception was in full swing when Brian stretched his long arms out in front of him and suggested Peyton join him for a stroll. Her first inclination was to refuse. Temptation won the debate. A walk in the moonlight with Brian Parker was much too enticing to overcome.

  A path wound through the back of the property, twisting and curving down the hill. A rustic bridge spanned the creek at the end of a short walk. The setting was perfect for moonlit lollygagging.

  When they reached the bridge, he leaned over the railing and looked into the water’s night-darkened depths. She shivered. Without a word, he removed his jacket and draped it across her shoulders. The jacket smelled like him—aftershave and bar soap and starched cotton shirts. Its warmth caressed her. She started to thank him, but stopped. A strange expression settled on his face. He studied her as if he’d never seen her before and the pit of her stomach flipped.

  She should have never worn the stupid dress. She should have stuck to the more matronly-looking outfit she had first chosen. That had to be it. It was the dress. She felt downright seductive in the thing. It wasn’t her style! And walking with him in the moonlight? Bad move.

  “You look beautiful, Peyton.” His eyes never strayed from hers. He smiled and touched the cross necklace he had given her with his index finger. A very bold move, she thought. The slight contact caused her to shiver with anticipation. Then she couldn’t help but remember Jeff’s offense. He had mocked her and cheapened Brian’s thoughtful gift, but Brian’s tender gesture seemed to restore the luster. It had become her most prized possession.

  The way he gazed at her made her nerves sizzle. She put her hand to her chest to facilitate her fractured breathing. It didn’t help. She had stayed in a state of nervous expectation from the moment he asked her to go with him. A strong desire welled within her. She wanted him to kiss her.

  A tendril of hair blew across her face. He pushed it behind her ear. The longing in his eyes stilled her heart. She wanted to turn away from his penetrating gaze, but she couldn’t. It was as if he was searching for something in the depths of her soul. Time seemed to stand still for one intensely real moment. His fingers found the back of her neck and he pulled her to him. The kiss was soft and sweet and oh so delicious. The taste of his lips lingered on hers after they parted.

  The last bit of denial crumbled. She was in love with the man.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered almost as soon as he let go of her. His words shattered the happy, giddy whirlpool turning in her stomach. His apology dropped in a million pieces at their feet.

  “You’re sorry?” she repeated under her breath. That was so incredibly unbelievable. Why would he be sorry? Anger burned her insides. Its fire scorched her tongue. Her bitterness spewed from her mouth. “You’re sorry? Why? Because I’m not someone else?” Jealousy had found its voice, shrill and unnatural. Her reaction embarrassed her even more. She had never meant to reveal her jealousy of Chris Smith.

  She ran toward the house, stumbling on a root in her haste to get away from her humiliation. At the open doorway, she searched the large living room for someone, anyone to take her home. Liz and her husband were pulling their overcoats on. “Hey, Liz, are you guys leaving? Would you mind taking me home?”

  Brian rushed into the room and headed straight for her. When he got near, she slid out of his jacket and slung it at him. Liz appeared du
mbfounded and uncertain, and then glanced from her to Brian.

  She headed toward the door, not waiting for an answer. “Wait a minute.” Brian grabbed her elbow. “If you want to go home, I’ll take you home.”

  “I don’t…that wouldn’t…oh, fine.”

  ****

  The trip began in stony silence. As she contemplated the long ride home, her head ached. She stared out the window. The air outside was so cold her breath made patches of condensation on the glass.

  They were within a few miles of Durango when Brian finally spoke. “Why are you angry with me?”

  “Because,” she sputtered. “Because…” Her emotions jumbled in her mind. Besides, wasn’t it obvious?

  “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Offend me? What do you think offended me?”

  “Obviously, you found my kiss offensive.”

  Oh, he was so far from the truth! “It wasn’t offensive until you apologized for it. Apologizing for it implied there was something to be offended about.” She slid the tight seatbelt away from the raw spot where it hit her neck. The stupid things never fit right.

  “You know, I shouldn’t have apologized. I did because I thought I ought to, not because I was really sorry.” His anger slammed into her. Why was he mad? “I’m not sorry I kissed you. I thought you wanted me to. I didn’t mean to be offensive.” She couldn’t believe he was saying what he was saying.

  “You know, if you’d just left it alone, we could have assumed it was just the moonlight and laughed about it later. Now it’s turned into some big deal.” Now she couldn’t believe she was saying what she was saying. The ridiculousness of her statements hit her hard, and she almost laughed aloud. Hysteria knocked on the door of her sanity.

  “You turned it into a big deal.”

  That did it—hysteria over now, ego in charge. Huge drops welled in her eyes. The argument was more than she could bear. “Just because you had the audacity to kiss me and just because I was foolish enough to let you doesn’t mean it has to mean anything.” Her sad attempt to convey her tangled thoughts came out jumbled and pathetic.

  “You made it pretty clear we were just friends. You said this wasn’t a date…I guess I got carried away.”

  “Oh,” she muttered. She wanted a different answer. She wanted what she couldn’t have.

  He hit her with another question she never expected. “Why do you push me away?” She didn’t answer him. “I want an answer.” His hurt feelings landed all over her.

  “I can’t get involved with you or anyone else.” He had opened the door. Now she could tell him about Mason, Jeff, and Cory. The truth was almost out of her mouth.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m married. At least, I think I might be.”

  “You might be? How can you not know something like that?” His voice rippled with suppressed emotion, controlled to the point it scared her.

  “I ran away from him over twelve years ago. He could have divorced me and I wouldn’t know it.”

  “Why did you run?” His skepticism nearly killed her. He wasn’t ready to believe her. She could see his respect for her draining away. That hurt more than anything.

  “Because he was abusive. I would have died if I hadn’t run. He told me if I ran away again, he’d kill me.” A sob caught in her throat as she clutched at the last remnants of his respect. “But I ran anyway, because I knew if he kept beating me the way he was he’d end up killing me and my...”

  She stopped short of telling him the full extent of Mason’s threats. She had been much more frightened of what Mason threatened to do to Jake. A fear deep within her demanded she put on the brakes...now. She didn’t want to tell Brian about Jake…not just yet. That meant she couldn’t tell him about Jeff.

  He pulled onto the shoulder of the highway and sat motionless for what seemed like forever. She was afraid to look at him. Afraid to talk. Afraid to breathe.

  “I certainly have a penchant for getting involved with married women.”

  She didn’t know how to respond. She could say nothing that would make it better. She had let it happen.

  He would insist on knowing everything now. She held her breath and waited for him to ask another question, but he never did. Maybe he didn’t really want to know. Maybe his concern had all been superficial. Was Brian any different than anybody else?

  After an interminably long silence, he finished the drive to her house, walked her to her door, and turned his back on her.

  ****

  As soon as the door closed, Jeff jerked Peyton’s arm behind her back and clamped a sweaty palm across her mouth, cutting off the scream that rose in her throat. She groaned at the sudden, sharp pain radiating down her arm toward her elbow and tossed her head, trying to dislodge his hand from her mouth. His cheek pressed against hers. His beer breath invaded her sinuses—his mouth so close to her nose nausea rose in her already overwrought stomach. “One little noise and I’ll yank it right out of the socket.”

  She whimpered as he dragged her to the window. The blinds were open just enough to see Brian head toward his truck and then stop, turn back to the house. Jeff sucked in a raspy breath. “What’s he coming back for?” She tried to tear away from his grip, but he pulled her arm tighter. Her stomach roiled. He played with the wall switch until he turned the outside light off. “He’s gone.”

  He loosened her arm just enough she slid from his grasp. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need money.” The unmistakable demand of desperation edged his voice. Who did he owe?

  “I told you I’m tapped out.” She glanced at the door behind him. He was blocking her escape. Then she remembered the gun in her coat pocket. If she could reach the weapon, she wouldn’t hesitate to use it this time.

  He shook his head as if trying to shake the muck out. “So maybe you’re tapped out, but I know someone who’ll give it to me. Getting it from her won’t be easy, but…I’ll just make her.” She kept quiet, not wanting to encourage him. “You want to know who I’m going to get it from?” He grinned with evil intent. “Carol.” He stepped closer. “Typical woman. She took the money and ran, but I found her. I’ve got to get to her before he does.”

  She had to keep him talking, keep him inching toward the closet and the gun. “He? He who?”

  “You know what he’s been doing? He’s been pretending to be me. Got a job with that guy from Virginia.”

  “Who are you talking about? What guy from Virginia?”

  “He’s a foreman for that guy we stole the money from. I’m the one with construction experience, but he’s the one out at the resort pretending to know what he’s doing. Isn’t that a hoot?” He shifted mental gears without warning. “Cory knows she’s here. He’s been watching her.” He caught her by the wrist. “I need to distract him, and you’re going to be the bait.” He pulled her across the living room and away from the door.

  She dug her fingers into the flesh of his upper arm, and he released his grip. “I won’t help you.” The quaking in her insides belied her false bravado. She put a few paces between them.

  “If you don’t, I’ll tell Cory where his son is.”

  The threat had its effect. She lunged toward him. He dodged. He wrapped his fingers around her forearms and threw her against the wall. She slid to the floor before the room fuzzed and her vision went dark.

  ****

  Jeff woke Peyton with a kick to her abdomen. She winced and opened her eyes. The morning light shot stabbing fingers through the partially open curtains and blinded her. How long had she been out?

  “Get up.” He jerked her from the floor, nearly dislocating her shoulder. “We’re taking a little road trip.” His speech slurred, the telltale sign of a bad hangover. Red shot his eyes as if someone gouged them with a stick. “We’re going to go visit Cory.”

  “No.” She tried to back away, but his hand pinched the flesh around her elbow.

  “Move.” He shoved her toward the door, jamming her already thro
bbing arm into the socket.

  “It’s cold. Can I at least get my coat?” Her teeth chattered on cue. The moron hadn’t turned the heat on in the house. He stared at her for a second and then released his grip. She made haste to get the coat, but before she could pull the gun from its hiding place, he grabbed her by the wrist.

  His eyes glittered with hatred as he spun her around and shoved her out the kitchen door, then pushed her into the driver’s seat of her car. “Scoot over. I’m driving.” She scrambled over the center console and pounced on the passenger door lock. He pressed the barrel of the gun against the back of her head. “Don’t even think about it.” He lowered the weapon when she settled into her seat.

  He remained quiet while he drove toward the city limits, his knuckles white where he gripped the steering wheel. His erratic driving produced spasms in her shaky stomach.

  She waited until they were out of town to start her mental campaign. “You’re just like your father.”

  His hand jerked, causing him to veer the car across the centerline. An oncoming truck honked at them. He ignored the warning, barely missing the other vehicle. He shook his finger in her face, looking at her instead of the road. “I am not like my father.”

  “You can’t get a woman to do what you want willingly, can you?” She baited him, playing a dangerous game. She wanted him mad enough to do something stupid.

  “Shut up.”

  “Carol ditched you, didn’t she? Did you beat her? Did she run away from you just like I ran away from your father?” Hate for his father was a strong stimulus for Jeff. Peyton stomped on it.

  “She deserved it just as much as you did.”

  “You’re not much of a man.” She bit at him, intending to tear into ego. She wanted the wound to go deep, as deep as the wounds he had inflicted on her.