Colton 911: Secret Defender

by Marie Ferrarella

  Strange though it seemed, the family had recently found out that Aaron’s father, Erik, and his twin brother, Axel, were his grandfather’s illegitimate sons. It was a fact that his grandmother Carin never failed to use to her advantage. In plain terms, Carin, a very unlikely grandmother, was not above blackmailing his grandfather whenever she could.

  Everything had come to light when the legitimate set of twins were recently found murdered.

  Aaron had thought that after the turmoil died down, the tensions in the family would finally be eased. But apparently, he had thought wrong. Trouble was stirred up again when an old will surfaced. Aaron had a feeling that his grandmother, the exceedingly coldhearted Carin, was behind this new discord.

  It stood to reason. Carin Pedersen had never remotely been the typical grandmother, not in any manner, shape or form. When she caused unrest, it wasn’t with an eye to benefiting her children or grandchildren’s future. She only did it to make Dean’s family suffer any way she possibly could.

  If Aaron hadn’t met his grandmother, he wouldn’t have thought that pure evil could actually assume a human form.

  But there she was, Carin Pedersen, the personification of evil.

  Aaron had never considered himself the last word in morality, but he did feel that it was up to him to stop Carin if he could. If he didn’t, he would be condoning whatever evil the woman was up to.

  Right now, stopping Carin involved finding out if she had instigated this lawsuit his father and uncle had put their names to. Neither one of the men struck him as intelligent enough to do something like this on their own.

  So today, he was confronting his father.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” Aaron said as he stopped by Nash’s house to pick up his half brother.

  When he heard what Aaron intended to do, Nash had cleared his morning schedule and volunteered to go with his big brother.

  “Don’t mention it. I’m as curious as you are to get to the bottom of this,” Nash told him. “It’s not exactly as if our dad’s a good man—no offense.”

  “None taken, trust me,” Aaron assured his brother.

  “The man tends to live beyond his means,” Nash pointed out, “and is always on the lookout for easy money. But he’s a talker, not exactly a doer.” He shook his head as he looked out the front windshield. “This whole thing smacks of intricate planning and that’s just not something our dad’s capable of. That’s more up Carin’s alley.”

  Like Aaron, Nash had never been able to refer to his father’s mother by a term as benign as “grandmother.” There was nothing grandmotherly about her. “I guess I’m as curious as you are to find out just what that devious woman is up to,” Nash admitted.

  Aaron nodded. “You realize that in all likelihood, she couldn’t have told Dad the truth. Knowing Carin, she probably made it sound like if he didn’t sue the real heirs, he was letting that branch put something over on ours. Maybe she even has him thinking that ‘our’ inheritance is being stolen.”

  Nash was in total agreement with his older brother’s theory. “You’re probably right.”

  “I know I am.” Now that he had said it out loud, Aaron was more inclined to believe it himself. “Still, thanks for coming. I could use the backup.”

  It wasn’t that he was afraid of the man. At five foot eleven, Erik Colton had once been a well-built, broad-shouldered man, but time had made his frame sag, grayed his dark brown hair and taken away the twinkle from his green eyes. At this point, his father had aged far more than his twin brother had.

  The real reason Aaron was bringing Nash with him was that he was afraid of losing his temper with his father. Nash was there in order to ground him.

  “Hey, don’t mention it,” Nash said, brushing off Aaron’s thanks. “If your mother hadn’t volunteered to take Damon and me in after our mother died and good old Dad had decided to split not long after that, who knows where he and I would have wound up? I owe a debt to her I could never begin to repay, but being there for you is at least a very small start.”

  Like everyone else who knew her, Aaron was aware of what a good heart his mother had. But being effusive about the matter was just not his way. So he said, “Well, still, thanks.”

  Nash knew enough to drop the subject and turn to one that was less personal. “Hey, did you get to meet that nurse Mom insisted on hiring?”

  “You mean the physical therapist,” Aaron corrected. He thought of the very attractive young woman he had attempted to question. “Yes. I met her.”

  “Okay, physical therapist,” Nash echoed. “What’s she like? Probably all austere and sensible shoes, am I right?” he guessed.

  Aaron laughed dryly at the inaccurate description. “More like the cover girl of a fashion magazine a teenage boy would hide under his bed,” he answered as he turned down the block where his father’s condo was located.

  Erik Colton spent most of his time living in his mother’s house because it was bigger and more luxurious, but there were times when he wanted his privacy. There was usually a woman involved during those times.

  “You’re going to have to explain that one, Aaron,” Nash said, slightly confused.

  Aaron was not happy about the physical therapist his mother had hired, but he had to trust in his mother’s common sense. Besides, this Felicia person seemed to be able to make her happy. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to have her investigated the first chance he got, he promised himself.

  “I could be wrong, but Felicia looks like she’s barely out of high school,” he told Nash.

  “Felicia, is it?” Nash echoed, his interest captured. “Maybe I should have gone with you to check her out.” He had opted out of going with Aaron earlier so his mother could get her rest. After what the woman had been through, he and Damon felt that heavy doses of peace and quiet were in order. “I still might,” Nash added with a wide grin.

  Aaron felt he needed to warn Nash, just in case. “I’d be careful if I were you. It seems that Mom’s very protective of her.”

  “That’s because you come on like a bear—and not the soft, cuddly teddy bear type,” Nash said, his grin widening.

  Aaron didn’t bother denying it. Nash knew him all too well. “All I was doing was just asking her questions about her background and where she got her certification.”

  Nash laughed, envisioning the scene. “Yeah, I know how you ask questions. Like a prize-winning boxer going after the win in his title match. It’s a wonder you didn’t scare the poor girl to death.”

  “I was just being thorough,” Aaron protested. “Or trying to be. Anyway, Mom told me to back off, so I kind of had to.” But that wasn’t going to stop him from having that background check done first chance he got. Or rather, have Damon do it, since he had the resources for that.

  “If she makes Mom happy, that’s all that counts,” Nash told him. “Just think if Mom was like one of those women who just curled themselves up in a ball at the first sign of pain.” He had no doubt that fall had to have been excruciatingly painful even though his mother had said nothing. “Then what would we do with her?”

  They were lucky that way, Aaron thought. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he conceded.

  “Well, the odds are that sometimes I have to be.” Nash grinned whimsically.

  “Don’t let it go to your head.” Aaron parked his car in front of the condo and got out. “Okay, here goes nothing,” he said.

  “Emphasis on ‘nothing,’” Nash agreed, thinking of their father as he got out of the vehicle on the passenger side.

  Not waiting for Nash, Aaron had already walked up to the front door of the condo and rung the doorbell. When no one answered after a couple of minutes, he rang the bell again.

  “Maybe he’s over at Carin’s,” Nash suggested. “After all, that’s where he usually stays.”

  Aaron shook his head. “His car i
s over there,” he said, pointing to the fancy vehicle their father liked to refer to as his “babe magnet.”

  “I guess I let wishful thinking get the better of me,” Nash quipped philosophically.

  Aaron was about to press the doorbell a third time when the door suddenly swung open. The wide smile on Erik Colton’s sun-lined face instantly faded when the man saw who was at the door. It was obvious that he was not expecting to be looking at two of his sons. He must have been waiting for someone else.

  “What do you two want?” he demanded.

  “And hello to you, too, Dad,” Aaron said wryly. And then, because he didn’t want to spend any more time with his father than was absolutely necessary, he got down to business. “What’s this about you bringing a suit to court saying that half the money behind Colton Connections actually belongs to you and Uncle Axel?”

  “Well, it does,” his father declared defensively, standing in the doorway like a slightly aged roadblock. “We found a will that says so, so why shouldn’t we get the money?”

  Aaron and Nash had their doubts that there were any such terms in the will. This all sounded highly suspect.

  “Why would you even think that?” Nash asked.

  Before he could think better of it, Erik blurted out, “Because your grandmother found an old copy of the will that those two dead guys left behind.”

  “By ‘two dead guys’ you mean Ernest and Albert, Grandpa’s sons with his real wife?” Aaron asked his father, emphasizing the fact that Ernest and Albert were Dean’s legitimate sons.

  “Who else would I mean?” his father snapped. “Now, if you’re finished satisfying that annoying curiosity of yours, do me a favor and get lost,” he said harshly, looking beyond Aaron’s shoulder. “Both of you. I’m expecting company.”

  Aaron made no effort to hide his disgust. “Don’t you ever give it a rest, Dad?”

  Erik clearly resented the comment. “Why should I? I’m not dead yet, and there’s still a lot of life left in me.”

  Aaron looked at Nash. “That’s all we need,” he murmured under his breath. “Another sibling to join the group.”

  “Hey, mind your tongue. Just because you’re this washed-up fighter doesn’t give you the right to talk like that to your father,” Erik yelled at Aaron. “Better yet, just get the hell out of here, ‘big shot.’ Now.”

  Having gotten the confirmation they had come for, Aaron and Nash turned around and made their way back to the car.

  “Well, we found out one thing,” Aaron said as they got into his car. “The Wicked Witch of the West is behind this.”

  “You think that Dad knows that Carin is using him and Uncle Axel to attempt to steal our newfound cousins’ money?” Nash asked as they drove away from their father’s condo.

  “Well, I’d like to think not,” Aaron said honestly. “Not because he’s a decent soul—because he was never that—but because that would take a lot more brains than Dad was blessed with. This has Carin written all over it.”

  Nash thought about the reason they had left so abruptly. “You know, at this point in his life, you would think that Dad would just stop tomcatting around like that.” There was disappointment in his voice as he shook his head.

  “That would take growing up, and Dad never managed to do that. He’ll probably be chasing after women until they plant him in the ground,” Aaron speculated. He pressed down on the accelerator, picking up speed. “Well, I’ve got gyms to manage and I’ve taken you away from your work long enough, as well.”

  “Yeah, I do have to get back,” Nash agreed, then volunteered, “I’ll fill Damon in on what’s going on with this so-called suit the first chance I get.”

  Nash paused for a moment, looking at his brother’s profile and thinking. “What are we going to do about Carin?”

  Aaron spared his brother a glance. “Why?”

  “Oh, come on, Aaron,” Nash said. “I know you. You’re not just going to drop the matter, especially without saying something to Carin. For one thing, you’re too honorable.”

  Aaron sighed. “Not that it would do any good, but yes, I do intend to call her,” he confirmed. “If for no other reason than to let the woman know that we’re on to her and that she can’t just coast through life ruining people’s lives the way she’s been doing. I don’t like being dragged into Carin’s unsavory plots like this. I hate guilt by association and I know that you feel the same way.”

  “At least we don’t have to endure seeing her anymore,” Nash said, genuinely grateful for that. “Remember when we were younger and Mom felt obliged to go through this charade because she thought we could feel ‘normal’ having a grandmother in our lives. Boy, that was certainly the wrong call. I’ve never known Mom to be so wrong.”

  “Everyone’s entitled to being wrong once, and Mom has a pretty damn good track record otherwise. The point is that we have all tried very hard to distance ourselves not just from our father’s and uncle’s get-rich schemes and plots but from the cold-blooded machinations that Carin was always engineering.”

  “Did you ever wonder what it would be like to have a normal grandmother in the family, one that liked to bake cookies at Christmas?” Nash asked, extending the fantasy a little further.

  The minute the question was out of his brother’s mouth, Aaron began to really laugh at the imagery that created.

  “What’s so funny?” Nash asked.

  “Can you just picture her?” Aaron asked. “Carin Pedersen, standing over a hot stove, baking chocolate chip cookies?”

  “Cookies with cyanide, maybe,” Nash said. “But chocolate chip? Not likely. Are you planning on going over to her place to see her?”

  “No, I think a phone call is about all I can handle after that visit with Dad,” Aaron told his brother. “I’ll drop you off at your place and then head back to the main gym. That way, after I talk to Carin, I can take out some of my aggression in the ring, or at least on a punching bag.”

  Nash laughed. “Sounds like a plan.” He knew how aggravating any face-to-face meeting with their father’s mother could be. “Give me a call and let me know how it went and if you learned anything, once you lose the urge to stop cursing,” he added knowingly.

  Aaron smiled. “You got it.”

  * * *

  Despite the fact that he knew what he was up against, once he dropped Nash off and drove to his main gym, it took a little bit of psyching up on his part before Aaron could get himself to call Carin.

  Like his brothers, he really hadn’t been able to think of the woman as “grandmother” in over three decades. That title was reserved for someone for whom there was at least a drop of affection or, barring that, some sort of respect. When it came to Carin, there had never been either.

  Closing the door to his office, Aaron sat down and dialed her number.

  She had never been one to pick up quickly and now was no exception. She waited until the fifth ring before she lifted the receiver.

  Because she had caller ID and because he wasn’t trying to hide his number, Carin knew who was calling, although she had no idea why.

  And because she did pick up, Aaron knew Carin was curious rather than just her usual dismissive self.

  Clearing her throat, Carin spoke in measured tones. “Aaron, to what do I owe this...pleasure?”

  The question tickled him, so he decided to have a little fun with the woman who had no concept of fun. “Do I have to have a reason?”

  “You do up until now,” she answered. “Don’t play coy, Aaron. It doesn’t suit you. Now, why are you calling?”

  He decided to get to the point. Hanging up was beginning to sound very appealing to him.

  “The word is out that you’re suing Grandpa’s other family. I just wanted to ask why.”

  As soon as she began speaking, Aaron knew he had rattled her cage.

  “What I do or do
n’t do is none of your business, Aaron, and I’ll thank you not to stick your nose into it. Now, if you don’t mind, I have better things to do than pretend to be accountable to a washed-up fighter who undoubtedly sustained more than his share of blows to the head in the ring and is obviously unable to think straight.”

  Rather than get angry—he knew that was the reaction Carin was going for—he only took one thing away from her response.

  “So you won’t answer my questions?”

  “Maybe you’re not as addle-brained as I thought,” Carin declared coldly, her tone all but giving Aaron frostbite.

  The next moment, the line went dead. Carin had terminated the call.

  Chapter 6

  Carin Pedersen scowled at the cell phone in her hand. Her forehead, however, never moved, thanks to the newest wave of Botox injections she had just gotten.

  Eighty-one last spring, the thin, five-foot-four woman didn’t look a day over sixty-four, thanks to a little nip and tuck at the very first sign of sagging or wrinkling anywhere on her body. Carin also made sure she was impeccably dressed at all times.

  At this moment, with fury in her green eyes, the woman came very close to throwing her cell phone across the room.

  How dare he? How dare her son Erik’s young whelp have the nerve to question what she was doing? Did he think that after all these years, she should turn into some docile grandmother, sitting in a rocking chair and knitting, while Dean’s “other” family hoarded all that money he had left behind? Well, he had another think coming. She had as much of a right to it as they did.

  Actually, more of a right, because she had given Dean a family before that other woman, his mousy wife, did. Granted it was only by a few weeks, but first was first and that was all that mattered.