From the Amazon Bestseller Debra Burroughs, topping the charts in Romantic Suspense and Women Sleuths, comes another exciting and entertaining short story, The Color of Lies.
Praise for Debra Burroughs’ romantic suspense novels…
“Each time Ms. Burroughs puts out a new book I can’t wait to download it. And once again the folks of Paradise Valley don’t disappoint. It’s almost like reading about people you know and can’t wait to catch up with. From the first page I was intrigued and caught up in the plot. I really enjoyed the entire book and was kept guessing til the end.”
~ Janet
Amazon Reader
“The main character is recently widowed and fiercely independent. She has a close knit group of girlfriends who’ve been helping her along. And it is with this group of friends in this small town setting that quickly comes to life right before your eyes. The characters and the plot are both superbly written. I’ve read 3 in the series and hope there will be others to follow…I’ve grown comfortable with this small town and this fun group of friends.”
~ Dryzl
Amazon Reader
“Loved this book. Great suspense and kept you on the edge of your seat. Would definitely read this author again.”
~ Gloria Wilhite
Amazon Reader
Main Menu
Start Reading
Afterword
Other Works by Debra Burroughs
About the Author
Copyright
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
“That Will Ferrell is hilarious.” Colin laughed as he and Emily pulled out of the movie theater parking lot and onto a main street. It was almost eleven at night and their fellow movie goers were streaming out of the lot as well.
“He’s weird, too,” she said. “Next time, let’s make it a romantic comedy.” She leaned toward him, batting her turquoise eyes. “I enjoy them so much more than that stupid physical slapstick stuff.”
He glanced away from Emily and back at the road. “You want me to sit through a chick flick?” The corner of his mouth quirked.
She straightened in her seat. “They call them ‘date movies’ these—”
Boom! Like a bomb blast, the deafening sounds of crashing metal and exploding glass filled the Jeep as the impact forced it to slide sideways, followed by the squeal of skidding tires and the acrid smell of burning rubber. Heat stung his face as the airbags burst out.
Both vehicles screeched to a halt.
His first thought was her.
“Emily!” Colin screamed, punching down his airbag. He turned to check on her, but she was encased by her deflating airbag and held prisoner by the bent door frame.
Her head hung limply to the left and blood matted a section of her blond curls. Colin could only hope the injury wasn’t too severe—from this angle he couldn’t tell exactly where the blood was coming from, aside from assuming she had a gash on the side of her head, evidenced by bits of broken glass scattered in her hair and pooled on her chest and the airbag.
“Emily,” he called again, but no response. He leaned close to her, she was breathing, but just barely.
The crash had hit on the passenger side, crumpling the metal around her, pinning her into her seat. Colin forced his door open with his shoulder and jumped out, shaking small pieces of glass off his clothes. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he dialed nine-one-one as he sprinted around the Jeep.
“This is Detective Colin Andrews, Paradise Valley Police, badge number five-seven-seven. There’s been a ten-fifty PD, vehicular accident with injuries, at the corner of State Street and Prescott Way. We’re going to need EMS, Code-Three.”
While talking to the operator, he checked on the driver of the older brown pickup truck that had T-boned them. A middle-aged man, dressed in a rumpled white shirt and worn jeans, was slumped against the steering wheel. “You’d better make that times two.”
He shoved the phone back in his pocket and glanced again at Emily, his chest tightening as he stared at her, unconscious and battered. A stream of fresh bright red blood continued to carve an ugly path through her blond curls. He yanked hard on the car door, but it wouldn’t budge. He was helpless to do anything for her until the emergency crews arrived.
His attention switched back to the driver of the pickup. “Mister, can you hear me?”
The man groaned, blood oozing from a deep gash below his eye where he must have hit the rigid steering wheel. His breath reeked of alcohol.
Colin’s hands balled into fists and his arms tensed as he gritted his teeth. It was all he could do not to drag the man out of his truck and beat the crap out of him.
He turned back to Emily, frantic, trying to pull the door open again, but the way the truck had smashed it in against her, it was immovable. She was trapped. Only a couple of feet sat between her and the truck’s grill.
Sirens in the distance caught Colin’s attention, growing louder as they raced closer. “Hold on, Emily.” He reached in through the broken window and checked her pulse, relieved that she still had one.
Within minutes, the crash site was teaming with emergency vehicles, bright lights flashing in every direction. A couple of officers and a fireman slipped the truck into neutral and pushed it out of the way so other firemen could move in and use the jaws of life to extricate Emily.
Paramedics pulled the man from his truck. He flailed around and mumbled as the EMTs worked to get him onto the gurney. After strapping him down, they put him in the first ambulance.
One of the officers questioned Colin about the accident. He answered the man’s questions as best he could—his Jeep was hit in the side, full force, by the man with alcohol on his breath who had apparently run a red light—but his gaze remained riveted on Emily. The officer yelled to one of the other policemen to go with the paramedics to witness a blood sample being drawn.
The officer waved his acknowledgement as he sprinted to catch up with them.
Watching the firemen do their job, Colin’s heart thumped like a jackhammer as anxiety rose in him. “Come on, come on,” he muttered. Before long, they had the door off. The paramedics rushed in and stabilized Emily’s neck with a collar and inserted a board behind her before lifting her onto a gurney, taping her head to the board to immobilize it. Colin stuck with the paramedics as they lifted her into the ambulance.
He hopped in. “I’m going with you.” No one argued.
As one of the paramedic monitored Emily’s vitals, hooking her up to IVs to stabilize her, Colin sat on the other side of the gurney, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
What was he going to do if he lost her? How could he go through that again? He had already lost one woman he loved when Miranda was killed. It took such a toll on him—physically, mentally, emotionally. His eyes blurred with that emotion now. What would he do if Emily died, too?
Colin lovingly wrapped his fingers around hers. Her hand felt so delicate, so limp.
Before long, the ambulance pulled up to the hospital and they raced her into the emergency room. A rush of activity surrounded them—doctors and nurses in a flurry of blue scrubs and white coats swirled around Emily as one of the EMTs briefed them. She was whisked through a set of large double doors at the end of the hall.
A petite but stern middle-aged nurse stuck out her hand and told him he had to remain outside, pointing to the waiting area. “The doctor will come out when she can.”
Numb, Colin stood staring at the doors, imagining what was happening on the other side. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think—he could hardly breathe.
; “Colin?” A deep voice behind him asked, then a large hand rested heavily on Colin’s shoulder.
He turned toward the touch. It was Ernie Kaufmann, one of his police officers and his good friend. Ernie was tall and burly, and much older than Colin was, a family friend for most of his life.
“I came as soon as I heard, son.” Ernie looked him in the eye. “What happened?”
“The truck, it came out of nowhere. The guy had been drinking. I smelled it on his breath. He must have run the red.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just a few cuts and bruises from the airbag and the broken window, nothing much. It’s Emily…” Colin’s voice broke.
“How is she?”
Colin cleared his throat. “I don’t know for sure. The nurse said to wait, someone would come out and talk to me. But she was unconscious at the scene and in the ambulance ride here.”
“Why don’t we take a seat? I’ll wait with you.” Ernie put his hand on Colin’s back and urged him toward the waiting area. “I called Emily’s friend Isabel when I heard. She said she’d call the other gals. I expect they’ll be here shortly.”
Colin nodded and took a seat.
“She’s a strong woman, that Emily. I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Ernie said as he sat.
Emily was a strong woman—tough, resilient, determined—but Colin knew all too well it took more than that. His jaw clenched as he remembered his dead fiancée. Miranda had been a strong woman, too, but that wasn’t enough to save her life.
As Ernie had predicted, Emily’s friend Isabel, and her husband, Alex, soon arrived, followed not long after by Camille and Maggie. They hugged Colin, offered their encouragement and support, but until he heard from the doctor that Emily was going to be all right, he was merely going through the motions.
It had been nearly two hours since the staff had wheeled Emily behind the double doors, when the doctor finally emerged. Colin ran to meet her and the others crowded behind him.
“I’m Detective Colin Andrews. How is she, Doctor?” Colin asked.
“Is her family here?”
“She has no family in town,” he said. “We’re engaged—I’m the closest thing to family she’s got.”
“And the rest of us are like family,” Maggie added. Her long blond hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail and her face devoid of makeup, which was so unlike Maggie. The emergency phone call must have gotten her out of bed.
The doctor’s gaze drifted from Maggie back to Colin. “Emily has suffered some trauma to her head and a broken arm, as well as multiple contusions. Usually, when I see accident victims from this kind of crash, there is a lot more injury to the lower extremities—hips, legs, pelvic region.”
“Oh my,” Maggie said. “That could have kept her from havin’ a baby, couldn’t it?”
“It’s possible,” the doctor responded briefly, before turning back to Colin.
“The pickup sat pretty high, that must be why,” he reasoned. “Is she awake?”
“No, not yet. We put her through a battery of tests and she’s been placed in intensive care,” the doctor said. “She has some swelling in her brain. We called in a neurologist to read her CT scan, and we’re keeping a close eye on her.”
The others muttered to each other and pressed in to hear more of the conversation, but Colin remained focused only on the doctor.
“Can I see her?” he asked.
“Yes, can we see her?” Camille repeated, her big blue eyes wide as she poked her head over Maggie’s shoulder. Her short red hair was normally spiked, but at this hour it clung pixie-like to her head.
“She’s resting. It’s probably best if you all come back in the morning. We’ll see where she’s at then.”
“I can’t leave her, Doc,” Colin said. “It won’t hurt anything if I just sit with her, will it?”
The doctor looked around at the crowd. “If it’s only you, I’ll allow it. I can’t have all of you crowding into her room and disturbing her.”
Chapter 2
The women hugged Colin good-bye and Alex shook his hand, assuring him they’d be back in the morning. Ernie hung back as the rest left.
Colin’s bones ached from the jarring crash, and as much as he wanted to be strong, tears threatened very near the surface. Emily had to wake up. He couldn’t lose her.
“You want me to stay out here and wait with you?” Ernie asked.
“Why don’t you come in for a while and sit with me and Emily?”
“The doc said only you.”
“I know, but we’ll be quiet. I could use the company.”
Ernie nodded. “Lead the way.”
They found the room number the doctor had given them before disappearing behind the double doors, and they slipped inside. As she lay sleeping, Emily’s normally pretty face was red and swollen, with numerous cuts and bruises from flying glass and the exploding airbag. Her head was bandaged, leaving her loose blond curls gathered around her neck, and her right arm was in a cast almost to her shoulder.
Colin’s eyes were riveted on her as he sat in the chair next to the bed. Ernie claimed the seat in the corner. As Colin carefully took her hand, his chest tightened with emotion. He couldn’t imagine his life without Emily. She filled every corner of his world with spirit and passion and love.
Gazing at her, Colin’s mind couldn’t help but recall Miranda again. He had sat beside her, holding her hand too, as she’d slipped away from him.
I can’t do this again. He wiped a tear that escaped down his cheek.
“She isn’t Miranda,” Ernie said softly, appearing to read Colin’s mind.
Not taking his eyes off Emily, Colin nodded. “I know.”
“I was already living in Paradise Valley when you and Miranda got engaged. I never knew how you two met. I know it was in San Francisco, but beyond that…”
He turned and looked at Ernie with a slight frown, wondering why he would bring that up.
“Why don’t you tell me about Miranda? It might take your mind off Emily for a while.”
Colin looked back at Emily and thought about it for a long moment, then his gaze returned to his friend, who was sitting on the edge of his chair, waiting.
Ernie meant well, and maybe he was right. Reluctantly, he agreed.
Slowly, Colin’s gaze floated down to Emily’s hand wrapped in his, as he thought back to the night he and Miranda met. “Late one night, I was leaving one of my favorite haunts where I often met up with some of the guys from the precinct after work. As I walked to my car, I noticed a young woman trying to change a flat tire. She was struggling with the jack.”
He paused and smiled to himself at the thought. Then he let the memory envelop him as he told Ernie the rest of the story.
~*~
“Need some help?” Colin asked.
The woman spun around to face him, her long dark hair floating around her shoulders. Colin noticed her deep brown eyes right away, sparkling in the light of the street lamp.
“Do I know you?” she asked, taking a step back.
“No, I just thought I could help. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a cop.”
“Well then, Officer, you should know better than to walk up behind a girl on a dark street in this city.”
“It’s Detective.” She was pretty and all, but if she was going to give him grief, he might as well keep walking. “Do you want my help or not?”
She held the jack out to him. “I can’t seem to get this stupid thing to work right.”
He took it from her and quickly got her tire changed.
As soon as he was finished, she opened the door and began to climb into her car. “Thank you,” she said with a little wave.
“Hey!” Colin marched up to the open car door. “Would you like to go for coffee some time?”
“I don’t date cops,” she said over her shoulder as she started her engine.
“At least give me your name.”
“Miranda.” She shut her door and drove off.
/>
~*~
Early the next morning, as Colin stepped out of the shower, his phone began to trill on the counter. It was his partner, Charlie Spencer, calling. He had a just gotten a tip from one of his confidential informants that a murder suspect, a known drug dealer they had been searching for, was at a certain apartment building at the moment. If they had any chance of sneaking up on him, they had to go now.
Colin met his partner almost a block away, hoping for the element of surprise.
“Are you sure Antonio is in there?” Colin asked, tilting his head toward the old four-story stucco building.
“I trust my CI. He knows if he burns me he’s toast.” Charlie smoothed back his slick, black hair. He had been a detective several years longer than Colin had, and he had built a network of informants around the city. He walked with a cocky swagger and turned the air blue sometimes, but Colin knew this man had his back.
Inside the building, they cautiously climbed the stairs to the third floor, guns drawn, and found the apartment number the CI had given. Charlie knocked and shouted, “SFPD! Open up!”
Sounds of frenetic movement inside the apartment told the detectives they had better move fast.
“We don’t have a search warrant,” Colin said.
“Did you hear that?” Charlie asked, nodding his head toward the door.
“Hear what?”
His mouth quirked into a sideways smile. “It sounded like someone calling for help.” With that Charlie leaned back and kicked the door open.
Once inside, the apartment went quiet. They moved from room to room, searching for anyone, with no luck until Charlie went into the bedroom. A woman cowered in the bed, sheets and blankets pulled up around her.
“Where’s Antonio?” Charlie demanded.
“He’s not here,” she said, pulling the blankets tighter.
Charlie and Colin glanced around, checked the closet and the bathroom, then backed out of the room, regrouping by the front door.
“If he’s not here, what was all that noise?” Colin asked.
The sound of scurrying in the bedroom drew their attention.
Charlie ran back toward the bedroom. “He’s out the window, going down the fire escape!”
Debra Burroughs - Paradise Valley 04.5 - The Color of Lies Page 1