Colton's Cowboy Code

by Melissa Cutler

  “I missed a bunch of calls from them, too. Them and Jack,” Ryan said.

  “Hannah didn’t answer her cell phone,” Brett said. “I’m trying the house.”

  The answering machine didn’t even answer the phone at the house. It merely rang and rang until Brett grew impatient.

  “Nothing?” Ryan asked.

  Brett shook his head.

  Ryan frowned. “I’m calling Dad now. It’s dial— Hey, Dad. Is everything okay? Looks like we missed some calls.” Ryan paused, listening. “Just a sec, Dad. Brett’s here, too. Let me get this on speakerphone.”

  When the speakerphone clicked through, Ryan gave Brett a thumbs-up.

  “Hey, Pops, it’s Brett. How’s Mom?”

  “Hannah didn’t tell you?” He sounded absolutely defeated.

  “She’s not with you?” Brett asked.

  “No. I asked her to stay at the ranch so she could tell you about your mom. The docs think it might be time for us all to say goodbye to her.” His voice hitched.

  Brett’s and Ryan’s gazes met. Brett’s own dread and heartache reflected back at him in his brother’s eyes.

  In all of this time, since she’d been attacked, worry of her death had been distant. Once the doctors stabilized her condition and brain scans revealed that she still had a lot of healthy brain activity, he’d pushed the idea of her dying to the back of his mind. But now, what if she really did die before the two of them could make amends? What if he was about to lose his mother forever?

  It was too much. Brett closed his eyes. “Tell me Mom’s not dying. Please.”

  He barely recognized his voice for the strain in it. Suddenly, he was back to being a kid again, watching his mother stack luggage in the trunk of a taxi and driving away. This was how abandonment felt. As though you should have done more, you should have been better or sweeter. You shouldn’t have back-talked, then maybe she would’ve stayed home instead of taking another extended trip abroad. Maybe she would’ve fought harder to live, to come out of the coma, if they’d all been more understanding of her depression...

  A squeeze on his shoulder had him opening his eyes to find Ryan next to him, sharing his strength. Probably he was going through his own emotional roller coaster of bitter memories and what-ifs about their mother.

  “Oh, son. I’m so sorry,” Dad said.

  “Hang in there, Dad,” Ryan said, his voice strained. “We’re out in the backcountry on patrol, but we’re on our way. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  “I love you, Pops,” Brett said. “Hang in there, okay?”

  “Love you both, too, Brett, Ryan. See you soon.”

  They galloped at full speed back to the ranch, neither attempting to talk over the wind and rain and their own troubled thoughts and feelings. All was quiet around the homestead. The Big House was lit, a golden beacon in the bleak night as it ever was.

  “I’ll take care of the horses after I figure out where Hannah is,” Brett said, dismounting. “You go on and we’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  “Roger that. Thanks.”

  They embraced, sharing each other’s strength.

  “See you in a few,” Ryan said. Then he jogged to his car and took off like a bullet down the road.

  Brett left the horses tethered in the grooming stall inside the stable and strode toward the house. Normally, caring for the horses was his top priority, no matter what. But he needed to see for himself that Hannah was safe and sound, and figure out why she hadn’t answered the phone.

  When he passed by the darkened office, a movement caught his eye. The door was ajar and fluttering open and closed with the wind. He climbed the steps and pulled the door open. Then he gasped.

  Even in the darkness, he could tell that the place was a disaster. Something was written on the side wall, though he couldn’t tell what, given the angle. What he could make out was the sign of the cross done in dripping spray paint on the back wall. Eyes on that, he reached in and flipped on the light.

  A curse escaped his lips. The office had been trashed. Every file drawer was open and papers were scattered all over the desk and floor. The computer had fallen over, its screen smashed. He took another step into the room and slid on something slippery. He windmilled his hands, catching his balance.

  “Hannah?” he called.

  A book sat open on the desk. From it protruded the hilt of a knife. He walked the rest of the way into the room, straight to the desk. His first glance was under the desk, in case Hannah was there, but all he found were more scattered papers. The book on the desk was a Bible.

  With one hand on the desecrated text, he lifted his focus and scanned the rest of the room. The words painted on the side of the room that he’d noticed before entering sent a fresh wave of sickening fear skittering over his skin.

  God’s watching you and so am I.

  “Hannah!” he tried to shout, though the word caught in his throat.

  What if she’d been here when this had happened? What if she’d been taken? Kidnapped? She’d tried to call him nearly twenty times and now she wouldn’t pick up her phone. He’d never been so scared in his life. For all he knew, she was being held for ransom somewhere by whatever twisted scumbag had stolen money from their family. Unless...

  What if his mother’s attacker had returned for another victim?

  A strangled noise bubbled up from his throat that sounded foreign to his ears, and he took off running.

  Chapter 16

  Brett flew through the house and up to Hannah’s suite, calling her name the whole way. The door was locked.

  He pounded on it. “Hannah? You in there?”

  He’d never been so sick with worry in his life. After knocking again, he gave her two more seconds before shouldering it open. The trim around the door frame splintered as he ripped it from the hinges off. He heard a yelp from inside. As the broken door clattered to the ground, Hannah appeared in the bathroom, clutching a towel and shaking from head to toe.

  “You scared the snot out of me!” she cried. “I thought you were Abra’s attacker coming back.”

  Infinitely relieved to find her unharmed, Brett bridged the distance between them and grasped her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  “Other than almost having a heart attack out of fear, yes. Why in heavens did you break the door down?”

  He pulled her into a giant hug. “Thank God you’re all right. You almost gave me a heart attack, too.”

  She pushed against his chest until he backed up enough for her to look him in the eye. “Is this because I called you so many times? Why didn’t you answer?”

  “With the storm, I didn’t hear it ringing in my jacket pocket. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. The power went out, but Edith got it back on without much hassle. I called because your mom’s not doing well. She took a turn for the worse, but I’ve since heard from your dad that she’s stabilized again.”

  “I know. Ryan and I talked to him, too.”

  She clutched the towel around her more snugly. “Then why are you so freaked out? About your mom?”

  “I’m sick about her, too, but someone wrecked the office. I thought something might have happened to you.”

  She brushed past him and strode to her bedroom. “What do you mean ‘someone wrecked the office’? I was just there a couple hours ago, and I locked up when I left.”

  She grabbed a pair of black pants from the bed and pulled them on.

  “The computer was smashed and there’s graffiti on the wall, papers everywhere. Someone left a Bible on the desk with a knife stabbed into it.”

  She pulled a green sweater over her head. “A Bible? Oh, heck, no.”

  Just like that, she took off out of the room. With Brett in tow, she jogged down the stairs and out the front door, paying n
o mind to the rain.

  “Hannah, there’s nothing you need to see.”

  “Like hell there is.”

  She threw the office door open and gasped.

  “It’s got to be the person who’s skimming money, doesn’t it?” Brett said. “He’s sending you a message that he’s onto you.”

  “Not a he, a she,” Hannah said. She walked into the room and touched one of the dripping red crosses on the wall, her finger coming away with the wet paint. She whirled to face Brett and shoved her trembling hands in her pockets, but not before Brett noticed that they were shaking. Angry tears flooded her eyes. “I know who did it. It was Mavis Turnbolt.”

  “You think Mavis the laundry maid has something to do with it?”

  Hannah shook her head. “She’s not the laundress anymore. She quit after I confronted her about her leaving a Bible in my room with passages circled about the devil and sin and murder.”

  All Brett could do was blink, he was so ticked off at her for not being forthright about her problems around the ranch. “She planted a marked-up Bible in your room? I told you to let me know if she gave you trouble. Between her and Rafe and the possible embezzlement, you’ve been keeping a lot of secrets from me. Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

  “No, and I’m sorry. I didn’t want to add to your burden.”

  “Hannah, you’ve got a target on your back. How can I keep you safe if you don’t tell me what’s going on?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it like that, but I think you might be right.” She fingered the edge of the Bible on the desk, then, after another shiver, wrapped her arms around herself in a hug. “Maybe it’d be safer for me and the baby if I left the ranch for a while. Until the danger’s passed. Someone’s out there who has it in for this place and the people in it, not just me. The hunting-blind fire, the damaged fences, Abra’s jewelry showing up at the hospital. And now this. I love it here, but I can’t be selfish right now. I’ve got to think of the baby first.”

  She was right and it pissed Brett off something fierce that some unknown perpetrator was threatening his woman and unborn baby so much that they had to seriously consider fleeing from the home he was trying to provide them.

  Not wanting to take his frustration out on Hannah any more than he already had, he stalked out of the office, so spitting mad that he couldn’t see straight.

  He got Ryan on the phone. “Turn around. I need you at the ranch.”

  “Whoa, there, bro. What’s going on?”

  He got Ryan up to speed on the office break-in.

  “I’m turning around. I’m about fifteen minutes away, though.”

  Brett climbed the steps to the Big House and stood on the porch, looking out over his domain, his family’s legacy that was being destroyed before his eyes. Enough was enough. “It’s time for a reckoning, Ryan. I’m sick and tired of standing around watching my family get hurt. Mom’s dying, Tracy was the target of a hit man last month and now somebody’s threatening Hannah. And I have a pretty good idea of who it is.”

  “You have a new lead?”

  “Two possible leads. It’s either Mavis Turnbolt, who’s a member of Hannah’s parents’ cult, which is Hannah’s theory given the religious symbols on the office walls, or it’s whoever has been embezzling money out of the ranch’s accounts. It’s time to start knocking heads around until we get the answers we’re looking for.”

  “What? Slow down and tell me what you’re talking about. Embezzlement?”

  Brett took a breath, trying to think past his fury so he could speak coherently. “Hannah just told me about the embezzlement this afternoon. She says she’s been documenting it since she started working here and she was getting ready to lay it all out for us because she has proof that someone’s been skimming from our accounts to the tune of twenty-three thousand dollars over the past year.”

  “Well, hell,” Ryan said. “Could the embezzlement and vandalism perp be one and the same?”

  “That’s one theory. And another question is, could it be the same person who robbed Mom and beat her within an inch of her life?”

  “That thought crossed my mind, as well,” Ryan said. “Sounds like we need to figure out who had access to the ranch’s ledgers and accounts. That’ll narrow the list down.”

  “You don’t sound angry enough for my taste,” Brett snapped.

  “One of us has to keep a cool head, and it sure as hell ain’t you right now.”

  “I’m trying to make things right with the mother of my child. Do you understand me? I’m trying to show her that it’s safe here for her and the baby, or else she’s going to walk away. And then what? What the hell would I do without her?”

  He flattened against the side wall of the house and squeezed his eyes closed while he got a grip on his spiraling fear. Until he’d voiced it, he hadn’t processed how desperately he needed Hannah and their baby in his life. And not just on the periphery of his life, with occasional visits until the danger on the ranch passed—that was, if the police were ever able to catch the assailant. Beyond the Colton code of honor, beyond duty, he needed Hannah by his side. Forever.

  “We’re going to get this guy, Brett. Whoever did this, we’re going to make him pay. I promise you that.”

  “We keep throwing that line around, about how we’re going to get this guy, but this is the second month in a row that our women and our ranch are in imminent danger as we stand by and watch, helpless.”

  Ryan let out a heavy sigh that seeped to well up from the depths of his bones. “Hang in there and don’t do anything stupid. I’m on my way.”

  Brett ended the call, cursing. He swabbed a hand over his face and girded himself to face Hannah again, even though he had no answers for her, nor any real hope to offer. He’d promised to take care of her, to be a man deserving of her, but he couldn’t even do something as basic as provide her with a safe home for their baby. He gritted his teeth, riding out a wave of anguish. He had let her down; he’d failed her and their baby in a fundamental way.

  Forcing himself to go numb, he walked back to the office, dialing his dad’s cell number again as he moved.

  When his dad answered, Brett said, “I’m sorry to bother you again, but I have to ask you something, and I know this is the worst possible time, but you’re going to have to forgive me.”

  “Are you on your way?”

  He couldn’t decide if his father’s dementia was kicking in or if he was purposefully ignoring Brett’s words. “Not yet.”

  “Her situation isn’t so dire anymore. She’s still fighting and the doctors were able to stabilize her. They’re trying a new medication.”

  “Thank God.” A rush of relief battled with his frustration. He fought for numbness again.

  “What do you need to ask me?”

  “I need to know if, over the last year, you’ve given anybody access to the ranch’s finances and accounts other than Jack and me.” Brett’s voice was tight with harnessed emotions.

  “Huh? It’s the middle of the night and I’m at the hospital with my wife who’s in a coma.”

  Brett stood at the base of the office stairs and closed his eyes. “I know, Dad. And I’m sorry. But someone broke into the office tonight and vandalized it. We’re trying to fit all the puzzle pieces together to figure out what happened and if we’re in any immediate danger here. Have you let anyone else have access to the accounts? Maybe someone to make bank deposits for you?”

  Dad huffed. “Only Rafe, and he wouldn’t break in and mess with the office. Why would he? He loves the ranch like it’s his own.”

  “Rafe?” As in the man who’d been getting too friendly with Hannah since she arrived at the ranch. A storm of fury started to build in Brett as the pieces clicked together in his mind. The religious symbols didn’t make sense if Rafe was the vandal, but the
re were too many coincidences for Brett to overlook.

  Dad sighed. “Yes, Rafe. I didn’t want to admit it to you kids, but I just wasn’t cut out for the job anymore. My eyes got tired, and Rafe was a big help. I asked him not to say anything to anybody. And then Hannah came, and Rafe and I were both off the hook. But I’m telling you, Brett, he’d never vandalize the office.”

  Brett bit his tongue, refusing to disagree with his father or chide him while he was in such a vulnerable state of mind. He did his best to modulate his voice and asked, “Was Rafe the only other person you gave access to the ledgers and account information?”

  “Yes, besides you and Jack.”

  “Brett?” It was Hannah, standing in the office doorway, as pale as a ghost. “I found something you’re going to want to see.”

  Phone still to his ear, he followed Hannah into the office.

  She pulled a small black camera from the bookshelf against the office’s back wall, from behind one of the plants she’d decorated the room with. It had been aimed at the desk.

  “That’s not what I think it is, is it?” Brett said. He couldn’t take any more new discoveries tonight.

  “Looks like it’s digital and wireless and...” She trailed a finger over the top of it, leaving a clear path through the dust. “It also looks like it’s been here a while. Someone was filming me.” Her gaze roved to the desk before locking with Brett’s once more. “Filming us.”

  Brett’s stomach turned. God is watching you and so am I.

  He could feel his palm start to sweat and had to grip the phone hard to hang on to it. “Dad, did you have security cameras put in the office?”

  “Huh? No. We’ve never needed to take precautions like that. If we didn’t trust someone then we wouldn’t hire them. I don’t think I’d know how to operate one of those new whiz-bang contraptions, anyhow.”

  Hannah touched Brett’s arm, her gaze imploring.

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t Dad’s doing,” he said under his breath.

  A firestorm started inside Brett, tensing his muscles, making his breathing shallow. Some psychopathic pervert had been secretly taping Hannah, which meant that, somewhere, there existed a recording of Brett pleasuring her that afternoon—violating their privacy, violating Hannah. Whoever had done this to her, they were going to pay.