A Baby for Agent Colton

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A Baby for Agent Colton Page 5

by Jennifer Morey


  “There’s something I need to ask you.”

  “Sure. Fire away.” He walked closer to his brother.

  “It’s okay, however you answer. I just need to know the truth.”

  This sounded serious. Since Chris had the most easygoing personality out of all the Colton kids, Trevor went on alert.

  “I’ll tell you the truth. What is it?”

  Chris hesitated, as though not sure he should hear the truth.

  Trevor put his hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “Hey. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

  Chris relaxed in his easy way, a genuine smile lighting his face. “I’ll hold you to that.” After the brief levity faded, he said, “I need to know why you tried to adopt Josie and not me. Not the rest of us.”

  That took Trevor aback. “I tried to get custody of her and the rest of you.” Trevor lowered his hand. Why did Chris think he wouldn’t?

  “You tried?”

  Trevor grunted in disbelief. “Of course I tried.”

  “How much? Once? Twice?”

  “Chris.” He couldn’t believe his brother doubted him. “How long have you thought I wouldn’t try to get us all together?”

  “It couldn’t have been that hard to get custody of us. You could have. Why Josie?” As he spoke, his voice rose and his hands went to his hips.

  Wow. He was really upset over this. And he’d never talked to him about it before now. Why had he kept it all bottled up? Trevor took his arm and guided him toward the two chairs before his desk. “Sit down, why don’t you. We have a lot to talk about, it would appear.”

  Chris shrugged out of his touch and sat down, looking like his younger brother again, during one of their fights. Trevor’s heart wrenched. Damn Matthew. Damn him to hell.

  “We were fostered out through different private agencies, Chris.”

  “I know that.”

  “Social workers prefer other relatives above siblings adopt or take custody. They look at lifestyle and economic standing. Where I lived, whether I was married or had a girlfriend. I had neither. And I moved a lot.”

  As Chris’s face smoothed, he got his answer.

  “The court felt we had the best chance at a normal childhood in separate homes. They allowed visitation, but it wasn’t enough. I made that argument over and over. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t show financial stability at the time. I was in college and I didn’t have a steady job. Having to deal with different agencies didn’t help.” Trevor raked his fingers through his hair, agitated all over again with the frustration of hitting wall after wall. “Social workers moved or quit. Files were misplaced or lost. And then they didn’t want to talk to me once they saw I was a single college student. They saw me as young and irresponsible, even though I told them I was going to college to gain stability. You have no idea the headache I went through.”

  Trevor put his hand behind Chris’s neck, coaxing, wishing he hadn’t doubted him at all. “I never gave up trying to get us all together.”

  Chris nodded a few times, leaning over with his elbows on his knees. Did he truly understand or did he still have doubts?

  Rage for his father intensified. Ever since he’d reunited with his siblings, the negative fallout continued to emerge.

  “Do you believe me?” Trevor asked.

  The burden he’d carried for so long took a while to ease, but eventually, after thinking it over, Chris turned his head, at an angle with his position, and a grin curved his mouth. “Yeah.” He sat up. “I believe you. And I should have thought to check the rules. I should have known Matthew would ruin any chance we had.”

  “We’re together now. That’s all that matters.” That and burying both the Alphabet Killer and Matthew.

  “Josie said you had a new murder that could be linked to the copycat,” Chris said.

  “Yeah, but the DNA will take some time to analyze. According to Jocelyn, we have to wait before we eliminate the suspect in Jane McDonald’s murder as the copycat killer.”

  “You don’t think her killer is the Alphabet Killer?”

  Trevor shook his head. He didn’t think there’d be a link and hoped something else would break the case open.

  “But Jocelyn says we have to wait for the DNA test.” Trevor smiled fondly.

  “Jocelyn, huh? How are things going with you and your hot new partner?”

  Did he have to call her hot? Since when had his little brother noticed how hot Jocelyn was? “She’s not my partner. She’s on my team and she’s a rookie.”

  “I wasn’t talking about your team. I’ve seen her. She’s hot. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” He elbowed Trevor with a smile and a “Huh? You’ve noticed, haven’t you?”

  This man-to-man banter was new to Trevor and he liked it. However, he didn’t like the romantic connotations. Only Chris’s laid-back way made it bearable. Somewhat.

  “Yeah. I’ve noticed.” But that didn’t mean he could act on his baser instincts. He had a job to do.

  Even as he thought that last line, he could hear Jocelyn jumping at the chance to tease him. And what job is that, Agent Colton, being a professional stick-in-the-mud?

  Trevor chuckled and Chris misunderstood the cause, laughing with him. A glimpse of the eleven-year-old boy flashed in his brother’s eyes and all the lost time taken from them made Trevor all the more determined to solve the Alphabet Killer case and put Matthew underground and out of their lives forever.

  But first he had to find Regina Willard.

  Chapter 4

  Three weeks later the DNA results came back on Jane McDonald and they did not match DNA found at other Alphabet Killer crime scenes. The DNA did, however, match the DNA sample they’d taken from Jane’s husband, the man who had claimed not to have killed her.

  “Told you,” Trevor said, liking how Jocelyn’s head pivoted, her beautiful hazel eyes more green in the light.

  “A good detective doesn’t jump to conclusions. She waits for the evidence to confirm suspicions.”

  “She?”

  Jocelyn smiled. “You’re a profiler.”

  “Still a detective. And for the record, I had the husband pegged all along.”

  Jocelyn wrinkled her nose at him, all in fun and with a cute smile that had him smiling back.

  Another agent tapped the open door of Trevor’s office. “Your sister Josie is here.”

  “Josie?” Trevor hadn’t expected her to stop by. She’d been avoiding him ever since he’d confronted her about going to see Matthew.

  “Send her in.” He dropped the printout onto his messy desk. Books lay sideways and upright and this way and that on the bookshelf that ran along one wall. He had two uncomfortable chairs on the other side of his simple but big wood desk.

  Jocelyn sat down on his comfortable desk chair and leaned back, thinking about the case, no doubt. He had to admire her tenacity. Despite his opinion that she’d be better suited at an ordinary job with a husband and a few kids—maybe a dog instead of a cat—she also made a good agent. He respected her for that. But he didn’t like thinking of her married. Why, he’d stop himself from wondering.

  She looked up and caught him watching her and smiled. He felt pinned to where he stood, her beauty and light stunning him with a powerful zap of sexual chemistry.

  Josie appeared in the doorway, a serious set to her smooth-skinned, striking face. And long dark hair. “Hey.”

  “Josie.” Trevor moved around the desk and hugged his sister. He’d already spent a fair amount of time with her since her return from witness protection after witnessing a drug lord kill a man—a drug lord, who also happened to be the brother of her foster father.

  He could see what the experience had done, how it had changed her. She was still recovering. “You remember Jocelyn?”
>
  Jocelyn got up briefly to shake Josie’s hand over the desk.

  “Yes, of course.” Josie looked back at her brother. “Anything new come up in the case? Sam said you got the DNA results from the latest murder.”

  “Yeah.” He gestured to the DNA report. “No match.”

  Josie slouched a bit, dropping down onto one of the uncomfortable chairs. “Damn. Are we ever going to be able to put Dad behind us?”

  “Right now. He doesn’t matter anymore.” He felt Jocelyn’s assessment when he said that.

  “Is he still playing that stupid game, saying he’ll give out clues when someone goes to see him?” Josie bobbed her crossed leg, arms leaning elegantly on the chair armrests.

  “Yes. He says he’ll give you one. You should go see him again. Maybe he will this time.”

  “Clue to what?” Jocelyn asked.

  Trevor hadn’t yet told her about Matthew’s toying. He didn’t like talking about the man.

  “He’s been dropping clues to where he left our mother’s body,” Josie said. “When he feels like it.”

  Jocelyn leaned back on the chair, her investigator hat going on. “What kind of clues?”

  Trevor leaned back against the bookshelf and let the girls talk.

  “Texas, hill, the letter B, peaches and Biff,” Josie said. “Those are all we’ve gotten so far.”

  Jocelyn lowered her hand and moved forward. “Wait a minute. He only gives clues when someone goes to see him and those are what he’s revealed?”

  “Sam went to see him and Matthew told him Texas was his clue. Ethan went and he gave him the word hill. Ridge got the letter B. Annabel got peaches. Chris got Biff. We’ve tried to piece it all together. She’s somewhere in Texas, on a hill in a city that starts with a B. Biff was the name of our mother’s childhood golden retriever. The best we can tell is Dad buried her on our maternal grandparents’ property in Bearson, Texas. It’s an old house on a hill, really remote. There’s a peach tree in the backyard and that’s where Mom’s golden retriever was buried.”

  Josie’s frustration came out in her tone and the way she folded her arms and had to stop talking, lest she begin to shout. His sister had plenty of fight in her.

  “We’ve all been over that property a hundred times. We can’t find any sign of a grave,” he said.

  “Why don’t you go see Matthew?” Jocelyn asked the sensitive question. “Keep going until he gives you the clue.”

  Easier said than done. Trevor watched his sister struggle with that, hoped she wouldn’t blame herself.

  “I’ve already tried. He won’t give Trevor a clue, either. He lies and leads us on to get visitors.”

  “But if there’s the slightest chance...”

  Josie began to get upset, the reason Trevor never pushed her. Maybe she’d go again in her own due time. Nothing would bring their mother back, so waiting made no difference.

  “You don’t know our father,” Josie said.

  “He’s dying,” Trevor said. “I think some part of him needs to reconnect with his kids before the cancer kills him, but he has a warped way of going about it.”

  Josie said nothing, just lowered her head as the idea of facing her father settled over her. She rubbed her hands together, slow and something to do to ease her tension. She still needed time to recover.

  Trevor pushed off the shelf and went to his sister, standing beside where she sat. “He has no empathy for what he put us through.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Josie.”

  “What if he did give you a clue, though?” Jocelyn asked, steepling her fingers over the desk, oblivious to Josie’s discomfort, or the degree of it. She zeroed in on the investigation, hunting answers. She didn’t understand what the separation had done, in addition to their father’s crimes.

  “You could find out where your mother is buried,” Jocelyn said. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t do anything to do so.”

  “Jocelyn,” Trevor warned gently.

  She glanced up at him, seeing his face and realizing she’d pushed a boundary. Lowering her hands, she rested them over her forearms.

  “I don’t ever want to see him again,” Josie said in a defensive tone. “And what good are those clues anyway? They mean nothing. When I went to see him, he dangled that clue over my head without ever telling me what it was. I don’t think he ever intends for us to find our mother. I don’t even think she’s on that property.” A shudder racked Josie’s shoulders. “Just seeing him made me nauseous.” She looked up at Trevor. “To think he could actually kill Mom.” She shook her head and lowered it again. “He’s evil.”

  Trevor gave her shoulder a squeeze and then removed his hand. “We’ll catch his copycat killer. Having her running free isn’t helping any of us put the past behind us.”

  Jocelyn’s eyes softened as she saw the exchange and listened. Trevor knew she had great sympathy for Josie and him. As a detective, she had no illusion over the kind of man who’d killed Saralee, but she backed off in questioning when necessary. He appreciated her for that. She was a good detective, insightful and smart. And beautiful. He couldn’t stop from acknowledging that. The longer he worked with her, the more difficulty he had keeping on track with this investigation. No wonder he’d lost his willpower and had to have her. He took in her breasts and the trim curve of her hips and thighs in her pants. Hair draped over her shoulder, hazel eyes sparkling with responding warmth.

  He turned and saw Josie watching them. No longer upset, she appeared to have taken this distraction with hearty welcome.

  “You two have been working together awhile now, haven’t you?” Josie asked.

  “Awhile, yes.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but pleasure came out in his voice. He did like working with Jocelyn. He was just afraid he liked working with her for the wrong reason.

  Realizing he’d turned to Jocelyn as he answered, he saw a renewed surge of sultry yearning come over her eyes. Another night with her in bed tempted and enticed, even though it went against his moral code. She did that to him. Wrecked him.

  “Are you...” Josie waved her finger back and forth between them, not having to finish with, sleeping together.

  Trevor stuffed his hands into his pockets and moved a step back from Josie and the desk, where Jocelyn sat, hoping his sister would drop it.

  Blinking and lowering her head, Jocelyn tapped her fingers on the desk, doing a poor job of acting as though nothing revealing had just transpired.

  “Are you two sleeping together?” Josie asked outright.

  Sleeping together implied an ongoing activity. Trevor glanced at Jocelyn and she met the awkward, telling look.

  Josie’s mouth dropped open. “You are!” She gaped from Jocelyn and back to Trevor. “How long has this been going on? You work together. I heard you don’t mix business with pleasure.”

  “Let’s stick to the point here,” Trevor said. He did not want to talk about his work ethics.

  “What point?” Josie asked. “I’m not going to see Matthew. I’m not ready for that.”

  No one knew what that felt like more than Trevor, as many times as he’d gone to see him. He needed a shower after each visit to wash away the filth. “I told you that’s okay, Josie. When you are ready, I’ll go with you. You don’t have to go alone.”

  Josie visibly softened. Matthew Colton had caused all of Trevor’s brothers and sisters too much pain. “I’m being irrational, I know. I’m sorry. Of course I should go see him for the clue. I just...”

  “You’ve been through a lot,” Trevor said. “We all have.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jocelyn said. “I shouldn’t have grilled you. I know what it’s like to lose family members to murder.”

  Josie turned to her with new interest. “You do?”

  Trevor wanted to fast forward t
hrough this conversation. Two women connecting—no, Jocelyn connecting with his little sister. That disconcerted him.

  “My dad and brother were both killed in the line of duty. They were policemen.”

  “Oh.” Josie reached across the desk and Jocelyn extended her hand. “I’m really sorry.”

  They held hands briefly, silently communicating the grief.

  Jocelyn had a history that complemented Trevor’s. While his went over the top in drama, they both had lost people they loved to murder and had been driven into law enforcement as a result.

  “It’s changed us all.” Josie glanced over at Trevor as she leaned back. “Trevor is so serious and chained to his work, for example.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Jocelyn leaned back, too. “And he accuses me of owning a cat.”

  Josie laughed. “He’s obsessed with his work.”

  “That isn’t true,” Trevor said. “Not completely. And I’m right here.”

  Jocelyn continued to speak as though he wasn’t in the room. “Is that what makes him shy away from serious relationships?”

  Trevor sat on the corner of the desk. “Do we have to do this now?” Although Jocelyn teased in her usual fashion, this broached an uncomfortable subject.

  “I think foster care did that to him,” Josie said, sobering. “I mean, I’ve been away a long time, but Annabel told me he went through a rebellious stage. And he’s never gotten over what our dad did. Well...none of us did, really. How can we? Our father is a serial killer.”

  Trevor heard and felt all the years of suffering she’d endured—all the years of suffering they’d all endured. If the state hadn’t decided it wasn’t in their best interest to stay together, he could have found his brothers and sisters sooner. Chris wouldn’t have come to him with the doubt that had plagued him all these years.

  “Are you any closer to catching the copycat killer?” Josie asked Trevor. “It’s Jesse Willard’s half sister, right? That’s so unbelievable.”

 

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