Colton's Christmas Cop

by Karen Whiddon

  Hunter nodded. Reaching into the inside pocket of his coat, he removed the baseball cards. He placed those on the desk and slid them over to Devlin. “I’m taking bids,” he said. “I’ve got several people who are interested. The highest bidder takes all.”

  Picking up the first one, Devlin’s eyes widened. “This is a 1955 Topps Roberto Clemente. The last one known sold for over four hundred grand.”

  “I know,” Hunter replied. He’d done his research. Lucky for him, that particular drug dealer had expensive taste in baseball cards. Next up was a 1954 Topps Ted Williams. While that particular card was worth about fifty thousand dollars, it was about the same value the rest of the rare and coveted cards in the collection.

  “A 1967 Topps Rod Carew,” Devlin breathed. He looked through the others slowly, trying to maintain a stoic expression, though he failed. Perspiration beaded his forehead, and he kept licking his lips.

  When he finished studying the cards, Devlin set the stack down on his desk. “This is over a million dollars’ worth of cards,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “Mind telling me how you, a police officer, came by them?”

  “I took them from our evidence locker,” Hunter replied easily. He’d learned long ago that the truth always worked best. “We got them when we took down a large drug operation a few months ago. One of the top guys was a collector. There are a lot of them, so these won’t be missed.”

  Devlin considered his words. “That means you can get more, right?”

  Hunter hadn’t expected this response. But when he considered what he knew of Devlin Harrington, a flagrant disregard for the law fit right in. “Maybe,” Hunter allowed. “I have to be careful. I don’t want to get caught.”

  “True, true.” Devlin picked up the cards again, slowly leafing through them. “I’m prepared to make a cash offer, right now.”

  Goose suddenly stood, her entire posture alert. She moved forward, sniffing the front of the heavy oak desk. When she lifted her paw, almost like a pointer, Hunter dug out another liver treat and gave it to her.

  When Hunter looked up again, Devlin continued to watch him intently, oblivious to the dog. “Go ahead and make your offer and I’ll take it under consideration,” Hunter said easily, reaching across the desk and retrieving the cards. “Like I said, I’m dealing with numerous interested parties.”

  “I’ll beat any other offer.” A thread of desperation ran though the other man’s voice. “Promise me you’ll at least give me the opportunity to do that.”

  “Sounds good.” Hunter pushed to his feet, careful to promise nothing. He scooped the cards up, dropping them carefully into the card sleeves he’d transported them in. After placing them inside his coat pocket, he stepped back. “You’ve got my email. Shoot your best offer over to me that way. I’ll be back in touch.”

  Goose by his side, Hunter strode out of the office, slightly worried that Devlin would attempt to stop him and take the cards by force.

  But once he and his dog rode the elevator down, his heartbeat steadied. “Three places, eh, girl?” he said. Goose looked up and wagged her tail. While he had to be careful, as an illegal search would completely undermine any case, at least he knew Devlin Harrington was hiding some sort of electronic data storage. For now, that would have to be enough.

  Back at the office, he checked in with his crew. Nothing new in the search for Demi Colton, which surprised no one. Demi had once been a very successful bounty hunter. If anyone knew the best places to lie low, she did. Hunter didn’t expect her to be found anytime soon.

  “Fenwick Colton has gone on a rampage,” one of the guys told him. “Seems his daughter Layla has disappeared. He’s wanting to file a missing-persons report and have us find her.”

  “What?” Hunter couldn’t contain his shock. “I just took a stolen vehicle report from her, not more than a couple hours ago. She’s not missing.”

  “The mayor says she won’t return his calls and she’s not home.” The other detective shrugged.

  “Sounds like more of a domestic dispute than anything else,” someone else chimed in. “But you know Fenwick. Always trying to pull strings.”

  “Since you’re the last one to see Layla,” Chief Colton said, walking into the squad room and pointing at Hunter, “I’d like you to call him and calm him down.”

  Hunter winced. Ouch. “Will do,” he replied, picking up his phone. He had to be careful what he said, as he didn’t want to betray Layla’s confidence. He also couldn’t lie to the mayor.

  The call went about as he expected. A lot of yelling on Fenwick Colton’s end, pretend hysteria about his daughter’s safety along with a clear disbelief that Layla appeared to be avoiding him. “She won’t even take my calls,” Fenwick complained at least five times, injured pride making his voice more irritating than usual.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Hunter said, though he wasn’t. “But I spoke with her earlier today and she was just fine.” He also didn’t want to tell the other man that Layla’s car had been stolen.

  Finally, Hunter appeared to get the mayor to understand that the police department couldn’t help him mend his rift with his daughter. Layla was an adult, so at this point there wasn’t much Fenwick could do.

  Since he wasn’t officially on a scheduled shift, Hunter left shortly after dark. He stopped at the Chinese place and got some fried rice and sweet and sour chicken—enough for two, just in case Layla hadn’t eaten.

  Funny, but he found himself eager to get home and tell Layla about his day. Though he had no idea if she would even still be there, he truly hoped she’d stay at least one more night. Preferably more.

  When he turned down his street and saw a little rental car parked in his driveway, a rush of happiness filled him. As he parked, he took a moment to consider how he felt. While he didn’t know for sure where this thing with Layla might be going, or even if it was going anywhere at all, he understood he had a choice. He could obsess over nothing or take it one day at a time and see what happened.

  When Mae Larson had taken him in after his parents’ deaths, she’d seen right away how worried about his future the teenaged boy had been. He’d wailed about his grief and his pain, not sure how he’d get through the rest of the school year.

  One day at a time, she’d told him. Put one foot in front of the other and keep going. That’s the only choice you have.

  She’d been right. He’d be forever grateful to her for that. He’d had a clear choice: to follow one path or to take another. He’d studied hard and graduated near the top of his class. His SAT scores were high enough to get him a partial scholarship to college, and Mae had helped him apply for several others. She’d made up the difference herself. When he’d graduated with a business degree from South Dakota State, she’d been there, as proud as if he really was her kin. He’d pretended not to mind that the rest of her family claimed to have forgotten about his graduation.

  He’d stayed in Sioux Falls for several years after college, working in accounting for a large legal firm. To his young and idealistic astonishment, the executives and attorneys he’d worked with were consumed with jostling for power. He’d witnessed firsthand so much backstabbing and outright corruption, he’d known he had to get out.

  When the position at Colton Energy had opened up, he’d applied, thinking it would be good to move back to the place where he’d grown up.

  Unfortunately, working there had been more of the same, just on a much smaller scale.

  He’d told Layla the truth when she’d asked why he’d chosen to go into law enforcement. He truly felt as if his job made a difference in other people’s lives. Sure, he might see a lot of bad actors and criminals, but at least as a police officer he could bring them to justice.

  Getting out of his car, he glanced at his house. The yellow light shining from his windows filled him with warmth. For the first time since he’d moved away from Red Ridge, someone
waited for him at home.

  He’d need to be careful not to get too used to that.

  Chapter 8

  Trying to relax on Hunter’s couch, Layla found herself missing both Hunter and his dog, though not necessarily in that order. Or so she told herself.

  It surprised her how comfortable she felt in someone else’s home. Safe, even as she had to wonder if someone had truly been trying to run her down. They could have been after Hunter, for all she knew. After all, he’d probably made more than a few enemies while arresting criminals.

  Still, every sound made her start, which was why she wished she had Goose there with her. The dog’s ever-vigilant hearing would alert her should any trouble arise.

  Not, she reminded herself, that she expected any. In fact, to be perfectly honest, her jumpiness might just have to do with a certain tall, reddish-brown-haired man with bright blue eyes. Her attraction to him was off the charts. Amazing and wonderful, true. But also, frankly terrifying.

  When headlights swept the front window and his car pulled into the driveway, her heart rate sped up. Now what? Hurrying to smooth down her hair, she glanced around frantically. She didn’t want to appear as if she’d been waiting up for him, even if she had, so she grabbed the book about dog training she’d been reading earlier that she’d originally picked up from his coffee table.

  He came through the door—broad shouldered, narrow hipped—and every cell in her body buzzed alive. Mouth dry, she watched him walk across the room, holding a large bag from which wafted delectable smells. Chinese? She’d opened her mouth to ask, but then Goose spotted her on the couch and gave an excited bark. The dog launched herself at Layla, tail wagging furiously, seemingly overjoyed to see her.

  Layla laughed, gathering the wiggling bundle of canine joy close. “Well, hello there to you, too,” she crooned. “Were you a good dog today?”

  The deep, rich sound of Hunter’s masculine laughter sent a tingling warmth through her. She looked up from his dog and let her eyes drink her fill of him.

  “She was a very good dog,” he said fondly, gazing at his K9 partner. “Come on, Goose, let’s get you your dinner.”

  Apparently understanding every word, Goose abandoned Layla and trotted into the kitchen, tail wagging, head up, in search of food. Hunter poured some kibble into a bowl and put it down. “Here you go, girl.”

  Not sure if she should stay put or join the man and the dog, Layla got up. Since she despised indecision in others, she refused to allow herself to vacillate. What to do, how to act? While she wasn’t sure what it was about Hunter Black that got to her, she definitely didn’t plan on letting her attraction to him interfere with her essential nature or personality.

  But damn, he was easy on the eyes. She especially liked the way he moved, full of confidence. She found that sexy as all get-out.

  “Productive day at work?” she asked, leaning her shoulder against the door frame. Though her entire body hummed with the need to touch him, she tried like hell to seem casual.

  She thought her attempt at casual worked well, until their gazes locked and bam—she forgot how to breathe. All rational thought fled at the heat blazing from his bright blue gaze. He felt it, too, she knew he did. If she just took a few steps toward him, she knew she’d end up in his arms.

  Tempting. So tempting, she swayed.

  This could easily become a habit. She wasn’t quite sure if that was a good thing or bad.

  “Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he opened his arms.

  No indecision at all—she did exactly that. His big, muscular body felt amazing, making her conscious of her own petite size and softness. He merely held her close, safe and warm in his strong embrace, nothing more. Somehow, that was enough. More than enough. Her eyes stung and her throat ached as she realized how much she’d missed simple human contact.

  Except with Hunter, it was so much more than that.

  Heart hammering in her ears, she raised her head, intending to initiate a kiss. Instead, to her surprise, he released her and stepped away. “I’m starving,” he said without a hint of apology. “I picked up some Chinese. Would you like some? There’s enough for both of us.”

  “No, thanks.” Taking a seat at the table, she watched while he opened the various cartons. It smelled delicious and she felt the tiniest bit of regret for not asking for some herself.

  Instead, she rested her chin in her hand and watched him eat.

  In between bites, he told her about his visit to Devlin Harrington.

  “But why?” she asked once he’d finished. “What crime do you think he could possibly have committed? I don’t know Devlin all that well, but from what I can tell, both he and his father take visible pride in their reputations being above reproach.”

  Hunter didn’t respond at first, clearly considering his words. “Sometimes, what people show the outside world isn’t exactly the truth about who they really are.”

  She nodded. “True.” She thought about Devlin, with his pompous attitude and vain certainty that he was the best-looking and smartest man in town. He hadn’t handled it well when he’d learned of her engagement to his father. He’d hit the roof, ranting about how she planned to try to usurp him in his father’s company.

  Swallowing hard, she passed that on to Hunter.

  “Not too surprising,” he allowed, flashing a grin that caught her low in her stomach.

  “Do you really think Devlin did something illegal?”

  “I don’t have any proof,” Hunter finally allowed, “and there’s not a judge in the county that will allow a search warrant based on gut instincts. But in here—” he touched his chest “—I know. I just need him to give me a valid excuse for a search warrant. Goose has already alerted me that he’s hiding something. But I can’t do an actual search without a warrant.”

  “That makes sense.” She took a deep breath. “Could Devlin be behind Mark Hatton’s accusations against me?”

  “Possibly.” He grimaced. “Right now I’m one of the only cops in Red Ridge who thinks there’s a strong possibility Devlin might be the Groom Killer.”

  Stunned, Layla couldn’t find anything to say to that.

  Clearly spotting her skepticism, Hunter changed the subject. They chatted about inconsequential things, but Layla kept going back to what Hunter had said about Devlin.

  Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Devlin doesn’t want me to marry his father.”

  Hunter nodded. “So you said. Something about him fearing you wanted to take over their company.”

  “Yes. But there’s more. Devlin had the nerve to come on to me right before he started dating my sister—half sister—Gemma, and I said no. With his huge ego, my rejection was hard enough for him to handle. But then when his father rubbed his nose in it by bragging to the public that he and I were engaged... Well, Devlin lost it.”

  Gaze sharpening, Hunter leaned closer. “When you say he lost it, what exactly do you mean?”

  “He confronted me.” She’d told no one about this, not her father, especially not Hamlin. “Showed up on my doorstep one night. He’d been drinking, and at first, I couldn’t decide if he was hurt or if his pride was injured. Stupidly, I let him in.”

  “If he laid a hand on you...”

  The icy menace in Hunter’s voice felt oddly reassuring. “He didn’t,” she replied, not saying that it hadn’t been for lack of trying. “He ranted and raved, slurring his words.”

  Still Hunter watched her, his expression inscrutable. “Did you feel threatened?”

  Reluctantly, she answered. “A little. Okay, a lot. He pinned me up against the wall and demanded to know why I didn’t want him. He rambled about his dad being old and told me the company would pass to him eventually. His insinuation was that I was marrying his father to gain control of Harrington Inc. I tried to brush him off, especially since it was the opposi
te, but he pinned me and tried to force his tongue down my throat.”

  Saying the words made her shudder.

  Judging from Hunter’s furious expression, Devlin ought to be glad he wasn’t in the room.

  “And then?” Hunter prodded. “What happened?”

  “And then I brought my knee up and got him right in between the legs.” She shook her head. “I’ve never heard a grown man make a sound like that. He doubled over in pain and I ushered him right out the door. I told him I’d call the police if he didn’t leave, ditto if he ever came back. And that was the end of that.”

  Silence. And then Hunter laughed, the kind of deep, masculine laughter that made her feel warm all over. “Good for you,” he managed in between laughs.

  “And when Devlin started dating Gemma, I tried to get her to listen to reason, but of course she refused to hear a word I said. Thank God she got rid of that toad and found her prince in Dante Mancuso.” Dante was also a K9 officer.

  Though she smiled, she had to point out the obvious. “Apparently, I made Devlin my enemy. I can see how he’d set up something like the Mark Hatton thing in order to get even.”

  Now Hunter’s smile vanished. “Yet when I asked you earlier if you had any enemies, you failed to mention this entire incident.”

  “I told you I considered Devlin one of them. Sort of.”

  “You only said you’d overheard him talking to Hamlin and that he was against you two marrying. Not any of this. Christ, this is motive.”

  “Judging from the accusation in your tone, you think I withheld vital information on purpose.”

  “Did you?” he shot back, frowning.

  “No, not at all. He came by the office and begged me not to tell anyone. I agreed. And I haven’t. No one else knows about this, except you.”

  His frown deepened. “Layla, that doesn’t sound like you.” He flushed, but set his jaw and continued. “I mean, what I know of you. Why would you keep something like that quiet? What if he did that to someone else?”

  Instead of answering, she waited, knowing he’d make the connection. When he did, she knew instantly.