Training Summer [Passion Peak, Colorado 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tara Rose

  Dalton texted Nash, who finally sent back a message saying that Angela was dealing with something personal and that all would be well.

  “I hope she’s all right.”

  Dalton gave her a quick smile. “Nash and Ian will take care of her. Just like we’re going to take care of you.”

  The rest of Saturday, all of Sunday, and on Monday, Summer couldn’t stop smiling. If both guys weren’t with her, they were texting or calling her. She had conveyed her concern about leaving Yosemite Sam alone so much to Dalton as well that on Sunday he and Wes had moved some of her things into Wes’s apartment at Pacos Farms, including Sam. They parked Summer’s car at the farm as well, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t need to use it any more often than she did now.

  When Summer had expressed concern about not being within walking distance to Shady Pines, both men had promised her that all she had to do was call or text them, and they’d drop what they were doing and either take her there, or check on Gran for her. Dalton spent the night with them on Saturday and Sunday, and on Monday morning Wes drove her to work.

  Summer finally heard from Angela on Monday afternoon, who called her at work. Since Angela rarely called her during a workday, Summer took an unscheduled break, getting one of the administrative assistants to cover for her, and took her cell outside to talk to Angela.

  “Aren’t you at work?” asked Summer. Angela was a dental assistant at Passion Peak Dentistry on Blue Spruce Lane.

  “I’m on a quick break, so I just have a second. Thanks for your text on Saturday. I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. What’s going on? Are you all right?”

  “I will be. Nash and Ian are helping a lot. You’ll hear about this eventually anyway. Brett took some pictures and videos of me when we were still together that I never knew about until Saturday.” Brett Warner had been Angela’s long-time boyfriend before she finally kicked his ass to the curb for cheating on her one too many times.

  “What?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t too happy to find out either. He posted a video on YouTube, Summer. Of me and him. He’d obviously pieced together the pics and video I never knew about.”

  “Oh my God…What a fucking asshole.” One of the things Brett had done to Angela when they were still together was to post a video on YouTube of him and Becca Rawlings having sex. Becca was one of the town sluts, and one of the many women with whom Brett had had a fling.

  “I know. I’m just all emotional anyway these days, you know?”

  “Oh, Angela, I don’t know what to say. What can I do?”

  “Nothing. I mean, you are doing it. Just being my friend, you know?”

  “Are things okay with Nash and Ian?”

  “Oh yes. They’re perfect. And what about you? What’s going on with Wes and Dalton?”

  Summer smiled. “We’ll have to sit down and have a long talk one of these days. I have a feeling we both have good news to share in that regard.”

  “I’m so happy for you. I have to get back now, but I wanted to tell you what was going on so you didn’t hear it from another source first.”

  “Thank you. You hold your head high, okay? You did nothing wrong here.”

  “Thanks, Summer. Love ya.”

  “Love ya, too, Angela. Call me if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  * * * *

  Dalton didn’t go to the main house anymore than he had to, but Tuesday morning after he got off the phone with Nash, he knew he had no choice. Nash had just informed him that last night, Angela had come to his house in the middle of the night and had surprised three men trying to break into the abandoned mine shaft at the back of the property that lined Sunflower Trail.

  Dalton hadn’t asked why Angela, who was supposed to be Nash and Ian’s sub, had been on Sunflower Trail in the middle of the night. He’d address that question another time. His blood had run cold as Nash described how two of the men were with Trace Coleman’s crew but had refused to implicate Trace or name the third man that had been with them.

  As soon as Dalton had been able to get off the call with Nash, he’d marched up to the main house. It was now or never. He’d confront his father, and find out who the third man was. Because Dalton was convinced that his father knew, and had probably helped Trace set up this whole crazy scheme.

  His father wasn’t in his office, and that was unusual enough. But when Deborah, his secretary, rushed in and told Dalton that his father was ill, Dalton at first became alarmed, and then a hot sliver of fear passed through him. It wasn’t possible, was it? His father couldn’t possibly have been that involved in this…

  “Ill? How ill, Deborah?”

  She averted her gaze for just long enough to send a wave of nausea through Dalton. Something was up, and she knew what it was. Deborah Wilson had been his father’s secretary for as long as Dalton could remember. She’d cut out her own heart before she’d betray him. “I can’t say, Dalton. But he won’t be in his office today. So, is there something I can help you with, instead?”

  Dalton watched her face for a few moments, but he knew it was pointless to push her. She’d say nothing. “No thanks. I’ll talk to him when he’s feeling better.”

  Dalton walked through the house, but there was no sign of his father. The staff ignored him, and that was fine with him. Today he needed to be invisible. He debated for a full ten minutes before opening the door to the garage where his father kept his collection of vehicles, and resisted the urge to pump his fist in the air when he spotted the Mercedes missing. His father wasn’t home.

  Dalton stopped Rose, one of the housekeepers, on her way upstairs. “Any idea when my father will be back?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. He said something to Robert about having to go into Meeker. Want me to find out?”

  Dalton bit back a smile and shook his head. “No, that’s all right. I’ll just call him.” Robert was Rose’s husband, and his father’s valet. If his father had told Robert he was going to Meeker, that meant he didn’t want anyone to know where he was going. His father would only have to go to Meeker to look up records in the courthouse or file something there, and he’d never do that himself. He’d send someone. But that also meant he wasn’t in the house and probably wouldn’t be for some time. Dalton had time to snoop.

  Chapter Thirty

  Wes frowned at the text message Tuesday morning from Dalton that said he wouldn’t be able to meet him and Summer for lunch. He explained that something was going on at the main house, and he’d fill them in later. Wes went down to the lobby, and he and Summer walked to Wendy’s, for a change of pace from their usual choice of places to eat lunch, where Wes showed her Dalton’s text message.

  “All kinds of odd things are going on today,” she said.

  Once they had their food and were seated, he asked her what she’d meant by her comment.

  “Well, I had the strangest phone call with Angela Davidson this morning. She said that Brett Warner had posted a YouTube he made of them without her knowledge. That’s why she was so upset on Saturday at the parade.”

  “Oh, that sucks.”

  “Yeah. I really like her. I always did. I hope things work out for her with Nash and Ian.”

  Wes did too, but he was more concerned right now with how things were going to turn out between him, Summer, and Dalton. He took her hands and gazed into her beautiful green eyes. “I have never been this happy. I just want you to know that.”

  The softness of her gaze, so full of love, took his breath away. She might not have said the words yet, and he had a strong suspicion that he and Dalton would have to say them first, but she showed him and Dalton both how much she loved them in a hundred tiny ways. From the look in her eyes whenever she gazed at them, to the way she touched them when they made love to her.

  He’d have to sit down with Dalton and have a serious talk about this, because it was time to stop playing around. If they were going to share this lifestyle, Wes wa
nted nothing less than complete commitment. And that had to include telling Summer that they’d both fallen in love with her, and that both men wanted her with them for the rest of their lives. Wes would gladly tell her now, but that wouldn’t be fair to Dalton. They had to talk first.

  And nothing Dalton could say would convince Wes that they both didn’t feel the exact same way toward Summer. Wes had watched Dalton carefully the past couple of days. He was as much in love with her as Wes was. It was time to make him admit it, and then to let Summer know how they both felt.

  “You look so serious.”

  Her voice snapped him back to the present. He let go of her hands and picked up his sandwich, smiling. This was the happiest day of his life. Nothing could ruin it.

  * * * *

  Dalton took a deep breath and opened the door to his father’s rooms. He never locked them. He was too damn self-absorbed to believe that anyone would dare enter his private space to do anything other than fluff his pillows or pick up his dirty laundry from the floor.

  Dalton walked to the center of the sitting room and glanced around. It had been a couple of years since he’d been in here, but nothing looked any different than it had since his childhood. A few updated pieces of furniture and new drapes, but that was about it. He had no idea where to start, so he decided to assume the worst and began to look for anything that would tell him his father had been on Nash’s property last night.

  Every nerve ending was on fire. It didn’t seem real. Opening dresser drawers and peeking inside closets was something characters in a book or a movie would do. It wasn’t something that Dalton Metcalf had ever done. Surely his father hadn’t been as involved as Dalton had told Summer and Wes he believed he was. Dalton had to be wrong. This quest today would prove it. It had to. Because the alternative was too much for Dalton to handle.

  When he walked into his father’s bedroom, the quietness made him stop and listen. What if one of the staff came in and caught him? How would he ever explain it? And then Deborah’s words came back to him. She had lied to him, obviously, by telling him that his father was ill. But in doing so, she’d given Dalton the perfect excuse for walking into his father’s bedroom. He would merely say he’d been concerned because his father had missed work due to illness no more than a few days his entire life, and so had come to his rooms to check on him.

  The second thing that struck Dalton after the quietness of the room was the smell. Damp, slightly rotted like mud or wet leaves might smell, and close. Dalton moaned softly as hot fear raced through his body once again. He should leave. Right now. Just back out of the room and pretend he’d never come in here. If he didn’t know, he wouldn’t have to do anything about it.

  A clock chimed, forcing a quick yelp from him, and he spun around, fully expecting to see his father standing there with an accusatory gleam in his dark eyes. But no one was there. Dalton took a deep breath and glanced the room. His father had always been a slob.

  When his mother was younger, vibrant and didn’t drool when she tried to talk, she had constantly complained about her husband’s habit of tossing his dirty clothes into piles on the floor. He still did it. In the corner by his dresser was a pile of clothing. Dalton didn’t have to approach it to see that it was covered in dried mud and leaves. Next to the jeans and hooded sweatshirt sat a pair of work boots, also caked in mud and dried leaves.

  Dalton stared at them for a long time. By themselves, they meant nothing, of course. And they could easily be explained away. But taken together with what Nash had told him on the phone less than half an hour ago, they sent Dalton’s mind racing to only one logical conclusion.

  The third man on Nash’s property last night had been Leland Metcalf. His father.

  Dalton took out his cell phone, and before he had time to talk himself out of it, he took pictures with fingers that shook. When he finished, he walked out of the house, got in his car, and drove to the Passion Peak police station, hoping Tommy was there today.

  * * * *

  Summer knew something was very wrong as soon as Wes came down to the lobby to drive her home from work. “Is it Sam? Did something happen to him?” Sam had been hiding for two days since they’d moved him permanently into Wes’s apartment at Pacos Farms. Summer hoped he’d come out eventually, but she felt guilty for moving him out of the only home he’d ever known.

  Wes shook his head, glancing around. “Sam is fine. I’ll tell you on the way home.” Wes didn’t speak again until they pulled into Pacos Farms and Summer spotted Dalton’s car. “He’s got a lot to tell us.”

  Once they were in Wes’s great room, Summer let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Dalton, sitting on the sofa with Sam in his lap, as though the cat sat there every day. “Where did you find him?”

  “I didn’t. He came out when he heard me and crawled up here.”

  “I thought something happened to him. This has been such a weird day.”

  “It certainly has been.”

  Something in his tone of voice had her searching his face carefully. “Are you okay?”

  Dalton shook his head, and it was then that Summer realized he looked like he’d been crying. She’d never seen him like this, and it alarmed her. She pulled a chair over and sat in front of him. “Dalton, what’s going on? I’m scared right now.”

  “Don’t be, hon. I’ll be okay. But I have a lot to tell you both.” He glanced at Wes. “You might as well sit down, too.” Wes took a seat next to Dalton.

  Dalton stroked Sam’s back absently as he continued. “I told you that my mother had an accident on the property several years ago. What I didn’t tell you was that before it happened, she and my father had a terrible fight. My parents rarely raised their voices in the house. It simply wasn’t done, you see. Civilized people don’t shout.”

  The sarcasm in his voice was strong. Summer glanced quickly at Wes who merely shrugged.

  “But that day,” said Dalton, “they both were shouting so loudly at each other that Bethany and I could hear them from the kitchen below their rooms. We couldn’t make out the words, of course, but it was obvious they were very pissed off at each other. When my mother left the house, my father came downstairs and found us. He said she’d gone out for a walk, and that everything was fine.”

  Dalton took a deep breath. “Bethany didn’t let it go at that. She and my father butted heads all the time, and that day was no different. She pushed for an answer, and all she could get out of him was that they’d fought about business interests that my mother didn’t agree with. What you don’t know is that my mother had fifty percent of the shares in my family’s businesses. She wasn’t just Leland’s wife. She was his business partner. He’s had that changed now, of course, but at the time, the corporation was set up so that he didn’t have complete control as he now does.”

  Summer shivered at his words, not liking where her thoughts were suddenly going. One quick glance at Wes’s face told her that his thoughts were going down the same road.

  “My father left the house shortly after that as well, but he didn’t say where he was going. I never did find out anything further about their argument. But when my mother didn’t come back to the house for several hours, Bethany and I went searching for her.”

  “That’s when you found her?” asked Summer.

  Dalton looked at her with so much pain in his eyes that tears stung hers. “Yes. But what I didn’t tell you two about her accident is that when we found her, and they took her to the ER, the doctor who came to talk to us wanted to know who might have been out walking the property with her. We weren't sure.”

  “Why did he want to know that?” asked Wes quietly.

  “Because someone had bashed her skull in with a blunt instrument, like a shovel or a large rock.”

  “Oh, Dalton…” Summer placed a hand on his leg, but he might as well have been made of stone. His skin was cool, even through his jeans. “Do you think it was…” She couldn’t even ask.

  He snorted. “My father? Let me
finish the story, and then you can tell me what you would be thinking right now. Last night, three men tried to break into the abandoned mine shaft on Nash’s estate. That’s one of the places where stolen loot is supposed to be hidden, according to documents Nash found in his basement. That potential hiding place is corroborated by what Tommy found as well. Two of the men were part of Trace’s film crew, and as of this afternoon, I heard from Tommy that they finally implicated the third man. But I knew who it was this morning.”

  “Oh, fuck,” said Wes, running a hand through his hair.

  “Yeah,” said Dalton. “That’s one of the words that came to mind. My father’s secretary told me this morning that he was ill. I went to see him at his office after Nash called and told me about the attempted break-in at the mine shaft. My idea was to confront him about it, and ask once and for all if he knew whether Trace had been on Nash’s property last night. He wasn’t there, so I went to the house. His favorite car was gone, and one our housekeepers told me that her husband Robert, my father’s valet, had said that my father was in Meeker on business.”

  Sam woke up and stretched, but Dalton kept stroking his back as he continued. “My father never goes to Meeker on business. He sends someone else. So I went snooping. And I found muddy boots and clothes. I took pictures with my cell phone, and drove to the police station to talk to Tommy. Since then, the two men on Trace’s crew flipped on my father.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Summer just stared from one man to the other. She felt numb inside. She tried to imagine what Dalton was feeling right now but couldn’t.

  “Where is Trace?” asked Wes.

  “His crew continue to maintain that Trace wasn’t behind the incident last night. My father was.”

  “Where is your father right now?”

  “With Tommy at the main house.”

  “Dalton, do you think he’ll be arrested?” Summer wished she could think of the magic words to make this all right for him, but she knew there weren’t any.