In Colton's Custody

by Dana Nussio

  “Can you come to Dad’s room at Mustang Valley General as soon as possible?”

  “What’s going on?” he repeated.

  “Can you just get here?” Asher hated that his voice rose at the end of the question, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “I’m already on my way, so just slow down and tell me—”

  “I’m not going to slow down. Just get here.” He blew out an exasperated sigh. “Someone’s planning to kill my father.”

  * * *

  Asher knocked but didn’t wait for an answer before hurrying into Spencer’s office at the Mustang Valley Police Department building late the next morning. He dropped into a visitor’s chair adjacent to the desk piled high with file folders and loose papers.

  “Did you learn anything more about the card I found last night?”

  The former soldier in his dark blue uniform stared at him from across the desk, his blue eyes narrowing. Spencer closed the dark file folder he’d been studying and rested it on top of the pile.

  “Well, hello again, cousin. Since we filed the report only twelve hours ago, I don’t have much to tell you yet. We sent it to the lab, but chances are slim that we’ll be able to pull a print. You and the hospital staff touched that card, too.”

  “Well, what are we supposed to do while we wait?”

  “We already have an officer outside his hospital room door, one we can’t really spare, I might add. So why don’t you head back to the ranch and let us do our jobs?” Spencer stood as if attempting to dismiss him. “Anything else I can do for you today.”

  “You can tell me what you know about Harley Watts.”

  “Why do you want to know about Mr. Watts? And why didn’t you ask last night at the hospital?”

  “We were both a little busy dealing with the newest threat to my dad’s life, don’t you think? Sorry about calling your direct line, by the way.”

  “Yeah, we have this thing called 911 that residents can use to access the emergency dispatchers. You might have heard of it. Usually, it works pretty well for us.” He settled in his chair again. “But I guess I can forgive you.”

  “That’s generous of you.”

  “It’s the kind of guy I am. Besides, your branch of the Colton family tree might be straining my department’s overtime budget for officers investigating these cases, but at least the work is interesting. Better than writing up dog-licensing infractions.”

  When Asher frowned at him, Spencer shrugged, unrepentant.

  “As I told Daniel Okowski, Watts has been charged with—”

  Asher waved his hand to stop him. “I’ve already heard that part from Daniel at dinner last night. I want to know how a lowlife like Watts can afford a beautiful condo in the industrial area. Daniel copied me on the research he’s been doing about Watts. I drove over and got a look at the place.”

  “Already, this morning?” The sergeant pointed his pen at him. “Are you trying to take over my job? You don’t see me out on the Triple R, birthing calves or slaughtering cattle.”

  “Just trying to hurry things along. I had to do something. Marlowe and Ace both own units in that community, and I can tell you they’re nice, too nice for someone without a job to afford.”

  Spencer grinned. “Have you been looking at Watts’s social media too?”

  Asher lifted a shoulder and lowered it. “I know how to use a computer. Obviously, so does he if his charges involve the dark web. Maybe that’s where he earns his money, sending messages for other people who don’t want their identities known.”

  “We’re looking at all of that.”

  “Well, are you checking out the recent incidents at Tender Years? Maybe he could have been involved in those, too.”

  Spencer shook his head. “Now I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Willow Merrill, the owner, probably didn’t file a police report. Maybe she should have.”

  “What kind of incidents?”

  “A threatening letter was delivered to her place of business.”

  The law-enforcement officer lifted a brow. “I’m not sure you understand how this dark web thing works, but that seems a little low-tech to me.”

  “What about an anonymous electronic complaint with the Department of Health Services when it’s supposed to be impossible to do without the filer’s name? And what about a Clamor smear campaign, where tons of reviews show up the same day, all showing different dates and appearing to come from a variety of sources?”

  “Now, those would require some expertise,” Spencer said. “They also hint that she really pissed somebody off.”

  “That’s what I told her.”

  “Since when are you and Ms. Merrill friends?”

  Asher crossed his arms. “She’s my daughter’s day-care provider, and we found out our babies may or may not have been switched at birth.”

  “No way. Again?”

  “Some families are just lucky, I guess.” He filled the sergeant in on the details from the hospital. “It’s possible that the call about the switch and the other strange events at the center might somehow be related to the threats involving my family.”

  Spencer gestured to his stack of files. “As much as I don’t want to add to our backlog of cases, you should tell Willow to file a report. Whether or not any of the things are connected, whoever’s trying to get her attention might not stop.”

  The sergeant stood again, indicating the meeting was over. “I guess we have even more to look into, so we’d better get started. Unless there’s anything else...?”

  “There’s one more thing. I think you should look into the Affirmation Alliance Group.”

  “You mean Micheline Anderson’s self-help organization? Why that group?”

  “Harley Watts just happens to be a member. He talked about it all the time on social media. Daniel’s research mentioned it, as well.”

  “Sure, we saw that, too. But that’s no big deal. Many community members are involved with AAG. Anyway, the group has done a lot of good in helping people since the earthquake, even putting victims up at that huge guest ranch on its property. Have you ever seen that place? Fancy log-cabin exterior. Huge open lobby with a triangular roof.” Spencer held his hands wide. “And what about Micheline offering a location for the evacuees after the bomb threat at Colton Oil?”

  “I’m not saying AAG doesn’t do good. It’s just that if Harley Watts is involved, then maybe there’s, I don’t know, something.”

  “Fine. I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, but we’ll check into the AAG as soon as you Coltons stop calling us every day.” He shook his cousin’s hand. “You know, you could have been a fine police detective. In fact, I’m glad you had an interest in ranching because you’d probably have had my job.”

  “I don’t want to be a detective, but I’m motivated to find the answers on one case.” Asher tilted his head back and forth, considering that.

  “Well, make that a few cases. It’s my dad in that hospital bed and my siblings who were targeted in that bomb threat. Willow and the girls might be caught up in all of this because of me. Even the cattle are my responsibility.”

  Spencer patted his shoulder and then guided him out through the squad room.

  “I know you feel responsible, but you need to let us take it from here, okay?”

  Asher nodded, and then he pushed back his shoulders.

  “I will, but you need to know that if whoever this is trying to get to the people I care about, they’ll have to go through me first.”

  * * *

  Asher stepped to his spot in front of the massive television in the mansion’s family room. His requested audience, consisting of his mother, siblings, a few of their future spouses and one possible brother, lined the two brown leather sofas and the pattern side chairs. He cleared his throat and began.

  “I’ve
called you all here because—”

  “It had better be important. Dulcie made chicken and noodles, and she said fifteen minutes until dinnertime,” Grayson announced. “I’m not eating cold noodles.”

  “Just give me a minute, will you? And it is important.”

  Grayson’s grin slipped away as he sank back into the buttery leather.

  Ainsley leaned forward and gestured for Asher to continue. “Well, go ahead and tell them. Finally.”

  He nodded, surprised that she hadn’t done it herself several days before.

  “I wanted to give you an update on a mystery I’ve been facing this week.”

  “Just you?” Rafe piped. “Don’t you think the rest of the family has been dealing with this, too?”

  “Not this mystery.”

  The group appeared to lean forward as one to hear him better. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that speaking the words aloud wouldn’t make it true.

  “It’s about a possible baby switch.” He raised a hand before any of them could interrupt him again and say that Ace’s switch was a fact, not a possibility. “Involving Harper.”

  “Harper?”

  This time it was his mother calling out. He held his hand up again to slow the onslaught of questions.

  “A week ago, an administrator at Mustang Valley General called to inform me that Harper might have been switched with another baby born November 2.”

  Marlowe splayed her hands over her belly. “You’ve got to be joking? Again?”

  Her husband-to-be, Bowie, slid his arm around her and squeezed.

  Asher smiled despite his nervousness. “I said about the same thing when I heard it. Willow was pretty shocked, too, but we went the next day for the DNA test—”

  “Wait. That’s how you know Willow?” Grayson asked.

  Callum propped his hands on his knees. “And you waited a whole week to tell any of us this?”

  Asher’s younger brother might have said “any,” but it was clear from the hurt look in his eyes that he meant him. Asher was already worked up enough himself tonight without having to worry about wounded feelings.

  Instead of asking Asher another question, Rafe directed one to his future wife, Kerry, who sat next to him.

  “Did you know anything about this?”

  She shifted in her chair, her eyes narrowing. “I keep telling you I can’t share anything about any cases I’m working on.”

  “But this is about my family.”

  She shook her head and let it fall forward. “Almost all the cases we’re investigating lately involve the Coltons. And I won’t be telling you about any of them, either.”

  “She told you, brother,” Grayson said, earning a laugh.

  When attention turned back to Asher, questions came at him from all sides, each trampling the one before. One comment, though, edged its way around the others.

  “I’m really sorry you’re dealing with this, Asher.”

  His siblings stopped and looked at the man who’d spoken the words. Jace. He was the only one who seemed to get that this wasn’t about them. It was about Harper, Willow, Luna and him.

  “Yeah, he’s right,” Marlowe spoke for the group. I’m so sorry you’re facing this. We know Harper’s yours. We’re certain of it.”

  The others murmured their agreement.

  “When do you get the results?” Bowie wanted to know.

  “If the hospital doesn’t have to repeat your test, too,” Jace said.

  Again, chuckles spread around the room. No one could argue that the hospital had more misses than hits with their family lately.

  “Are you handling this okay, Asher?”

  Genevieve watched him with a mother’s concern, though she already had enough to worry about.

  Finally, his family gave him the chance to fill in the details about the possible switch and the impending results. He finished just as Dulcie announced that dinner was served.

  Asher walked with the others into the dining room, though he was certain he wouldn’t be able to eat anything. Strange how telling the rest of his family hadn’t given him as much relief as he’d hoped it would, even if they had his back, like always.

  The appointment for receiving the test results still hung over him like a rain cloud following him alone. Yet he wasn’t by himself in this. As he’d recognized the week before, there was only one person who could understand his fear that night, could feel it all the way to her bones. He couldn’t worry that it might be a bad idea. He had to go to her.

  Chapter 18

  A flat sound yanked Willow from a troubled sleep. Her buzzer? Her alarm clock? She blinked into a darkness that suddenly had become sinister, its shadows stretching from walls to floors, its sounds shrill and disturbing.

  Had those who’d threatened her business and her home decided that the negative-review campaign wasn’t doing its damage quickly enough? She’d sensed that someone had been watching her the past few nights. Had it been more than just her already spooked imagination?

  The digital clock on her bedside table read only ten thirty. She’d been asleep no more than a half hour. Would someone try to get to her while her neighbors with later bedtimes might still be awake to hear her screams? She slid from beneath the sheets and stepped over to her bedroom window. The dark sedan that had been parked outside her house for the past few days was still there, her two posted security guards likely drinking coffee and watching from inside it.

  She crossed to the bedroom next door to hers, carefully turned the knob and tiptoed over to the crib. Luna slept sweetly on her back, her fisted hands above her head, her legs forming a diamond-shape opening from her diaper to the touching bottoms of her feet. Her child safe, Willow could finally breathe normally again.

  She was almost convinced that she’d dreamed up the sound that had awakened her, but just as she climbed back into bed, someone knocked at the door. Were the security guards even inside that car across the street? Had she been too quick to assume that she and Luna were safe?

  After pulling on her lightweight robe, she scanned the shadows in her room for anything she could use as a weapon. A plastic hanger? An empty laundry basket? She didn’t even have a soiled diaper handy to toss in an attacker’s face. She settled on the golf umbrella in the corner. She could use it to shove someone over the railing at the top of her outside stairs if she hit hard and fast.

  But at the door, she paused, flipped on the porch light and leaned toward the peephole. Asher stood there, glancing back over his shoulder. After unlatching the bolt, she threw open the door.

  “What’s going on? Did something happen with Harper?”

  He shook his head. “She’s fine. Marlowe offered to stay with her so I could get out of the house.”

  “That was nice of her.”

  “I know it’s late.” He cleared his throat. “Did I wake you?”

  As she shrugged to answer, she followed the line of his gaze to her robe that had fallen loose despite her best effort to cinch it. The V-neckline of her simple silk shift peeked out along with the shadow between her breasts. The garment’s hem skimmed her thighs.

  She wrapped one side of the collar over the other and knotted the belt.

  He cleared his throat. “What’s with the umbrella?”

  “Uh, thought it might rain.”

  “You mean since the region averages about a quarter inch in the whole month of May? Sure you didn’t plan to whack me with it?”

  “Guess you’ll never know.”

  He glanced over his shoulder into the night, his arms tight against his sides. “Were you worried someone else was out there? I talked to the guards when I came. Have you received more threats?”

  “Nothing like that. Though I was a little concerned when my door buzzer went off so late.”

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to frigh
ten you. I shouldn’t have come.”

  He kept shifting his weight from side to side in a way that made her as uncomfortable as he appeared.

  “Why are you here?”

  He didn’t speak for so long that she was convinced he wouldn’t.

  “Tomorrow.”

  At his single-word explanation, Willow swallowed. Like her, Asher had been thinking about the test results they were scheduled to receive the next day. How she’d managed to rest when the shadows beneath his eyes suggested that he hadn’t slept in days, she wasn’t sure.

  “Would you like to come in?” She stepped back and made room for him to pass.

  “Thanks.”

  He closed the door and gestured to his boots, asking if he should remove them, but she shook her head.

  He clearly needed to talk to someone, and since she was the only other person who could relate to what he was going through, he’d come to her.

  “It’ll be okay, you know.”

  “Will it?”

  “I don’t know. I just said it because you looked like you needed to hear it.”

  “I did.”

  She headed into her kitchen but slowed and spoke again. “Did it help?”

  He stopped in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, bracing his hands on the door frame. “Want honesty or kindness?”

  “Kindness.”

  “I feel completely better.”

  “At least you’re being honest.”

  The heavy air between them seeming lighter for a moment, Willow crossed to the counter, stuck a filter in her coffee maker and added several scoops of dark roast.

  “Neither of us will be sleeping tonight if we drink all that,” he observed.

  “You don’t look as if you’ve slept much lately, anyway, and I probably won’t now.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You keep saying that.” She set two mugs on the counter, along with teaspoons, napkins and a bottle of fancy creamer from the refrigerator.

  He eyed the bottle. “You remembered.”