Before heading to the squad room, Hunter dropped Goose off with one of the assistant trainers, a young woman named Callie who lit up when she caught sight of the basset. Hunter left them to their mutual admiration lovefest and headed back to his desk.
Once there, he glanced toward Chief Finn Colton’s office. Now would be as good a time as any. The chief’s secretary, Lorelei Wong, was in charge of the betting pool. Hunter jotted Devlin Harrington’s name on a slip of paper, folded it in half and slipped it into an envelope, which he sealed. He dug a twenty from his wallet, put it with the envelope and passed both to Lorelei with a wink before proceeding around the corner.
Since Chief Colton kept an open-door policy, Hunter simply knocked on the door frame twice before poking his head in. “You got a minute?”
Finn glanced up from the report he’d been reading. “Of course,” he said, gesturing to one of the chairs across from his desk. “Have a seat.”
“Mind if I close the door?” Without waiting for an answer, Hunter did. “I wanted to talk to you about the Groom Killer case.”
Finn’s brows rose. “Do you have a new lead?”
“Not exactly. But I’d like to investigate Devlin Harrington’s tech—his phone, laptop, work computer, etc.” Hunter sat, leaning forward earnestly. “I got some information today that gives him a motive. Sort of,” he amended. He filled the chief in on what Layla Colton had told him.
“So you think Devlin has a problem with his father getting married? To the point that he’d go around killing grooms?”
Put that way, Hunter had to admit it did sound far-fetched. “It’s possible. Maybe he hates that Hamlin has found a younger, beautiful woman to marry him. Or maybe he’s against Dad putting a huge amount of money into Colton Energy and squandering his inheritance. We also know that Nash was suspicious of Devlin when he discovered Devlin asked out Hayley Patton and she rejected him.”
Last month, Nash, one of the K9 officers, had spotted Devlin ogling a photo of Hayley on his laptop. Hayley had been engaged to the first victim of the Groom Killer—Bo Gage—after Bo broke his engagement to Demi Colton.
Coincidence? Not likely.
“That’s still not enough evidence to justify a warrant,” Chief Colton said, his tone a bit chiding.
“Well, if you also consider that Layla Colton feels someone’s framing her with the sexual harassment charge against her, that would be two attempts to stop the marriage. And who would want to stop the marriage more than anyone? Devlin Harrington.”
“Again, only speculation. You know better than that, Hunter.”
Maybe he did, but Hunter was prepared to continue with speculation that might stick.
The chief shook his head before Hunter got a chance to speak. “Look, I want to exonerate Demi as much as anyone. While having another viable suspect would certainly go a long way toward doing that, you know as well as I do that’s nothing. Haley’s photo on Devlin’s laptop could simply mean he likes looking at her, as do a lot of guys.”
“But—”
The chief held up his hand. “Enough. Devlin’s being watched. If you truly believe he’s behind anything, you’ll have to find more evidence, legally.”
Hunter nodded, careful to mask his disappointment. “Then that’s what I’ll do,” he said. “Thank you for your time.”
Back at his desk, he took a seat and began making notes on a pad. Writing things out always helped him clear his head.
But all he could think of was Layla Colton and the hurt and pain he’d seen in her beautiful blue eyes. When he’d worked at Colton Energy, he’d actively avoided her since he’d figured she was tied—at the deepest levels—to the corporate greed and indifference perpetrated by her father.
He should have known it wasn’t so simple. There were always two sides to everything. And after talking with Layla, he had the distinct possibility that she might be less involved than he’d believed. And a hell of a lot more naive. He still struggled with the concept of her agreeing to allow her father to marry her off to a man she didn’t love, just for an infusion of money.
That situation wasn’t his problem, he reminded himself. He had two active cases—more than enough to consume his time. Arresting the Groom Killer remained his number one priority. Second would be finding out the truth about the charges Mark Hatton had filed against Layla. He’d do his job there, too, whether she turned out to be innocent or guilty.
And he’d do his damnedest to ensure her sky-blue eyes didn’t make frequent appearances in his dreams at night.
Chapter 4
As Layla pressed the elevator button, her phone pinged. A text from her father. I need to see you in my office, now. Your fiancé is here and he’s upset as hell.
Perfect. How one day could go from crappy to decent and then right back into the toilet, she had no idea. But she figured she was about to find out. Her stomach, already upset from stress, churned. She thought longingly of the roll of antacids she kept in her desk drawer but decided not to make a quick detour to get them. Fenwick Colton despised being kept waiting.
As soon as she reached the third floor, she headed directly to her father’s office suite. His assistant, a sullen young woman named Brielle who always seemed to be on her cell phone, waved her through without even glancing up.
After rapping softly on the door, she opened it and went inside. Her heels immediately sank into the plush carpet.
Both her father and Hamlin went silent at the sight of her. They were sitting side by side on the ridiculously expensive lambskin couch Fenwick had hired a specialty design store to make.
Hamlin jumped to his feet when she entered, though he didn’t smile. Her father did not rise or smile either.
“There you are,” Hamlin said, reaching for her to pull her into his customary, stiff, full-body hug. Pretending not to notice, Layla managed to avoid him. Today, his silver-white hair frizzed around his head like a foggy halo, reminding her of photos she’d seen of Albert Einstein. In stark contrast to her father, who wore a three-thousand-dollar custom-made suit, Hamlin wore his “ranch suit”—a diamond-studded denim jacket and dark jeans—with thousand-dollar cowboy boots. He kept an office at his green energy company, Harrington Inc., but he loved his ranch, even if he barely bothered to oversee the people he’d hired to run it. She spotted his pricey Stetson, one of his affectations, on the back of the sofa.
“Explain yourself,” Fenwick barked, making her jump. “What is all this nonsense about you sexually harassing Mark Hatton?”
Though she lifted her chin, Layla felt the heat of a blush spreading over her face. “It’s not true,” she replied. “At all.”
Hamlin’s bushy gray brows rose. “Are you saying you’re being framed, my dear?”
“Yes.”
Though Hamlin frowned, her father’s hard expression didn’t change at all. “You need to clean that up, run damage control. Settle if you have to, but do whatever you must to make that go away.”
“Settle?” She stared in disbelief. Of all the things her father had asked of her, this ranked as one of the worst. “I’m innocent, so, no, there won’t be any settling. Of any kind. The police are investigating and I feel confident they’ll unearth the truth.”
“The truth doesn’t matter,” Fenwick insisted. “What matters is the damage to your public persona and to our company. If people believe you actually did—”
“Enough already,” Hamlin interrupted. “Personally, I don’t really care if Layla has the hots for some twenty-two-year-old underling. But this is also, as you say, very embarrassing. Even if the police were to catch the Groom Killer today, the wedding will have to continue to be postponed until Layla is cleared of all charges.”
“But—” Fenwick started to protest.
“No debate.” Hamlin’s implacable tone matched his steely expression. “Matter closed.”
Hating
how the two men carried on as if she wasn’t even there, Layla cleared her throat, and once she had both their attention, she made a show of checking her watch. “I have work to do. Is there anything else?”
The scorn in her father’s gaze cut her to the bone, though she took care not to show it. “Just get your mess cleaned up. Use my attorney if you have to.”
Since she already had, she simply nodded. Her fiancé watched her, looking her up and down as if she was nothing more to him than livestock up for auction. As always, lust sparked in his eyes, but nothing more.
Distaste filled her. Now that she knew the reason for Colton Energy’s money problems—and that they were fixable—she felt a lot less inclined to offer herself as a sort of sacrificial lamb.
“We’ll see how this plays out,” Hamlin drawled. She couldn’t help but notice not only did he not offer to help, but he expressed no concern for her emotions. He didn’t even bother to ask if she was all right after being arrested and dragged off to jail.
Of course, what had she expected? He’d never claimed to love her, just to want her in his bed. He’d made it clear from the beginning that he saw her as a trophy wife, a pretty younger woman he could flaunt on his arm. Never mind that she was a person in her own right, a successful businesswoman with a brain.
She sighed.
As he watched her, Fenwick’s gaze sharpened. “Might I remind you, the fate of your favorite charity depends on this wedding going off without a hitch.”
Subtle—not. She’d worked tirelessly to ensure Colton Energy’s charitable contributions went toward dog rescue. Specifically, rescues that rehabilitated dogs and trained them as service animals or police dogs. Part of the donations went to the Red Ridge PD’s K9 training unit. Except according to Hunter, they now made enough to operate without accepting charity.
Clearly her father didn’t know this, even though as mayor he had access to all the bookkeeping for all town agencies, including the police department. She doubted he’d even care, except for the loss of one more thing he could hold over her head in order to make her do his bidding.
She felt as if blinders had been removed from her eyes and she could suddenly see. Disconcerting, to say the least.
Not trusting herself to speak, she turned on her heel and left without another word.
Back in her office, she closed the door and went to stand at her floor-to-ceiling window. Fuming, she realized she needed not only to have a long talk with her father, but a separate conversation with Hamlin. Eventually. Not today. Her head had started to ache.
Again she found herself thinking of Hunter Black and the way his eyes had crinkled at the corners when he’d smiled at her. She’d definitely felt a tug of attraction.
Impulsively, she pulled his card from her purse and dialed the number. He answered on the third ring.
“Officer Black.”
“Hunter, it’s Layla Colton,” she said. “I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee or a drink with me later.”
Silence. An awkward, uncomfortable silence that stretched out for way too long.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t date the subject of an ongoing investigation,” he finally said. “That’d be unethical, not to mention against the rules.”
“Not as a date,” she rushed to explain, horrified. “I just thought we could go over a few things pertaining to my case.” Swallowing hard, she hoped she didn’t sound too pathetic. After the meeting with her father and her so-called fiancé, she needed some quiet companionship. Why she’d thought of Hunter first, she wasn’t sure. “Perhaps you’re forgetting I’m engaged to Hamlin Harrington?”
“Ah, right. You know what, that actually sounds great, then,” he said. “Coffee, though, as I can’t drink while on duty.”
On the verge of asking him to go when he was off duty, she bit her tongue. She was engaged, wedding postponed or not. Plus, she really just needed a friend right now.
“When?”
Again, he took a moment to consider. “I work graveyard this week. What time are you thinking?”
“Lately, I’ve been working long into the night,” she said. “But it’s been a really long day, so I’m going home at five. Maybe sooner.” Except the last thing she wanted was caffeine in the evening. From personal experience, she knew she’d be up all night. She explained this, feeling rather sheepish since she’d been the one to throw the idea out there.
“All right. I get that. How about we grab a bite to eat instead?”
She froze. “Okay,” she finally agreed, telling herself that this was not a date. “Where?” So help her if he said Peretti’s. The cozy Italian restaurant was well-known as the most romantic place in town to take a date.
“Pizza Heaven?” He sounded as if he was smiling. “I could use a good slice of Canadian bacon and pineapple.”
“That’s my favorite, too,” she said, surprised and also relieved. “And Pizza Heaven will be perfect.”
They agreed on a time to meet—six thirty. With a quiet sigh of relief, she ended the call.
Leaning back in her chair, she smiled. Odd how just hearing the husky bass of his voice made her feel better. It had been a long time since she’d let herself be attracted to someone. It just figured that when she finally did, he’d only want to be friends.
Oh, well. Though her half sister Patience, as well as her other siblings, had called and left several messages expressing their worry about her arrest, she’d been avoiding returning them. Mainly because they always tried to talk her out of marrying Hamlin. She didn’t have many friends, either. Right now, she’d take any offers of friendship she could get.
* * *
After hanging up the phone, Hunter wondered why he felt so jazzed at the idea of going for pizza with Layla Colton. Okay, she was gorgeous, true. And much more warm and personable than he remembered. Of course, they’d barely spoken to each other back when he’d worked at Colton Energy. He’d been guilty of basing his impression of her on what he’d heard around the office. Monikers like Ice Princess and Daddy’s Hatchet hadn’t gone a long way toward making her seem kind and fuzzy.
Chief Colton walked out into the main room and whistled, the sharp sound cutting through the chatter and background noise. Officers hurriedly concluded their phone calls, and the room became eerily silent.
“We’ve got another murder,” he announced, his voice as grim as his expression. “One more groom has been killed. This time, the victim was Xavier Wesley. His body has been transported to the coroner.”
“How long ago?” someone asked.
“Time of death has yet to be established.” The chief cleared his throat. “However, Demi Colton’s bracelet was found near the body.”
Immediately, the chatter started back up. Chief Colton waited a moment before whistling again. “What’s more, we have a witness who claims to have seen Demi pull the trigger. If he’s credible, we might just have solved the case.”
With that pronouncement, the chief went back to his office and closed the door.
The squad room erupted in noise. The Groom Killer was all anyone ever talked about these days. At the police station, even while dealing with the normal routine of routine crime—shoplifters, a hot-check writer and the occasional drunk driving or drug possession arrest—every single officer wanted to be the one to solve the Groom Killer case.
Even in town, whether at the breakfast café, the tire shop or the pizza parlor, the first thing everyone asked Hunter was if they’d caught the Groom Killer yet.
The first murder had been a shock and everyone in law enforcement had considered it an aberration. Things like that didn’t happen in Red Ridge. But then another groom had been killed, and another, and a clear pattern had emerged.
Apprehending the murderer was the RRPD’s number one priority.
And now it appeared the case might have been solved.
Excep
t Hunter didn’t believe it had. Too cut-and-dried. First up, Demi Colton might be a lot of things, but she wasn’t stupid. Even if she’d lost her mind and decided to become a serial killer, she wouldn’t go around leaving personal belongings at the scene. Or witnesses.
And lastly, she didn’t fit the profile. At all. West Brand and his former colleagues at the FBI had mentioned that very few women were serial killers. West didn’t believe Demi was the Groom Killer.
Hunter got up and made his way to the chief’s office. He tapped on the closed door and then opened it a crack to peer in. With the phone to his ear, Chief Colton held up one finger to indicate Hunter should wait.
Since the door had been closed, Hunter started to step back out of the office. But the chief shook his head and gestured toward the chair, phone still up against his ear.
Apparently, whoever was on the other end had a lot to say, because Chief Colton didn’t say much, other than the occasional uh-huh and I see. Finally, he placed the phone back in its cradle and shook his head. “That was one of West’s former colleagues at the bureau. He insists there’s no way Demi can be the Groom Killer. She doesn’t match the profile.”
Relieved, Hunter nodded. “That’s exactly what I was coming to talk to you about. My gut is telling me it’s not her.”
The chief rubbed his eyes. “We just need a break, you know? Between the Groom Killer, the Larson twins and their criminal activity that we haven’t been able to get a decent lead on, and now the Layla Colton case, it’s looking like we’re going to have our hands full right through the holidays.”
“No breaks on the Larsons, either?” Hunter asked, surprised. Though he wasn’t assigned to that particular case, he’d listened with interest when it had come up during their weekly briefings. Everyone knew the Larsons were involved in crimes ranging from manufacturing and dealing drugs to illegal weapon sales to theft. The DEA had paid numerous visits to Red Ridge, even setting up an undercover sting operation. Thus far, they had been completely unsuccessful in garnering any concrete evidence on the Larsons. They were never seen dealing, and thus far any stash of drugs or weapons had not been located. Not only were those particular criminals well organized, but they appeared to be widening their distribution area, expanding throughout the entire county.
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