Colton's Christmas Cop

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Colton's Christmas Cop Page 17

by Karen Whiddon


  The younger guys, Shannon and Gray, tried to one-up each other with who could eat the most, jostling each other with boasts about the one time they’d...fill in the blank. Cara the dog trainer spent a lot of time interacting with Goose, who’d parked herself under the table in case anyone dropped food.

  As host, Hunter interacted with them all. There were lots of laughs, and the sense of camaraderie actually made Layla’s throat close up more than once. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed. She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been. When Shannon voiced the hope that this would become an annual tradition, every single one of them agreed without hesitation.

  After her cheesecake had been devoured, the guys decamped to the living room to watch football. Still marveling over her happiness, Layla began clearing the table, intending to do the dishes. Cara shook her head, muttered something about gender profiling and went to watch the game with the men. Grinning, Layla waved her away. Truly, she didn’t mind. She relished the chance to be alone with her thoughts. Though to some of the others, today might have seemed ordinary, to her the meal had been a revelation. She needed some quiet time to process her thoughts and emotions. Continuing to gather up plates and silverware, she stacked them next to the sink.

  Seeing this, Hunter returned. He went right past Layla and began rinsing off plates before stacking them in the dishwasher.

  Layla couldn’t help but stare. Neither her father nor any of his friends could be bothered to help clean up anything. “What are you doing?” she asked, even though it seemed obvious.

  He barely even turned. “Rinsing the plates. What are you doing?”

  “Touché.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Go watch the game,” she ordered. “You did most of the cooking. I can handle this.”

  He glanced at her over his shoulder, expression intense. “I’d rather be with you,” he said.

  Chapter 13

  The instant the words left his mouth, Hunter regretted saying them. Truthful, for certain. He meant them with all of his heart. But they’d been dancing around their mutual attraction ever since he’d drawn the line in the metaphorical sand. As long as she remained engaged to another man, Hunter would consider her off-limits. No matter how difficult that might be.

  Once the dishes were all in the dishwasher, he helped Layla put up the leftovers and then they joined the others watching the game.

  For such a smart woman, he wondered how she could be so blind to the truth. She didn’t belong with Hamlin Harrington.

  She belonged with him.

  The next morning, Hunter and Layla drank coffee and munched on a delicious coffee cake one of their Thanksgiving guests had brought.

  Though Hunter still felt relaxed and at peace, Layla seemed restless. She gulped her coffee and paced, only stopping long enough to devour a slice of cake. Finally, she announced that she wanted to stop in at the K9 training center and see if there was anything she could do to help the skeleton crew charged with taking care of the dogs who were still in residence. He didn’t question her, simply nodded and told her to have a good time. He suspected yesterday might have been as life changing for her as it had been for him, and if so, she had her own way of dealing with the realization.

  As for him, he figured he’d go with the flow. Relax and enjoy the day off.

  He’d just stepped out into the backyard with Goose when his cell rang. Mae Larson. Figuring she most likely had suffered a bit of guilt over the way she’d treated him, he really thought she should stew in it.

  But since her rejection had turned out to be a blessing in disguise, he went ahead and took the call.

  “Happy belated Thanksgiving,” he said instead of hello.

  “Oh. Right. Happy belated Thanksgiving to you, too.” Mae sounded both frazzled and exhausted, even more so than normal. He guessed having extra guests at her table had proved more work than she’d expected.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Sure. I’m right as rain.” The hard edge to her voice told him she wasn’t. “They finally went home. The twins drank yesterday and their girlfriends were fighting. The second they pulled out, I escaped to the backyard with a brand-new bottle of Jack. I haven’t opened it yet, but I’m seriously considering it.”

  And thus the reason for the call. Mae had been sober for sixteen years, ever since the day she’d taken him in. She relied on Hunter occasionally to pull her back from the abyss.

  “You know you don’t want to drink that,” he said. The old familiar line. And as usual, she responded the same way she always did.

  “You know what? I really do.”

  “It’s not worth it. You’ve done so well all this time. I know you can get past this. It’s just a small bump in the road.”

  The analogy made her laugh, a gravelly sound that testified to her two-pack-a-day cigarette habit. “I missed you yesterday,” she said, surprising him. “Did you have a good meal somewhere?”

  “I did. Turned out I had a houseful of people. It was a nice day. Very relaxing.”

  “Oh.” For once, she appeared to be at a loss for words. But she recovered soon enough. “I’m glad. I just wanted to check in. Maybe you could stop by later if you get a chance. I have lots of leftovers and you can have lunch.”

  He made a noncommittal sound, not bothering to tell her he had plenty of his own leftovers. Her rejection still stung, even though because of it he’d had one of the best Thanksgiving meals ever. Not being allowed to spend the holiday at the Larson house had actually shown him that the time had come to branch out on his own, to start making his own memories. For that, he would always be grateful.

  Once the call had ended, he looked down to see Goose sitting directly in front of him, her head tilted as she listened to his side of the conversation.

  “Sorry, girl.” He bent down and ruffled her fur. “Let’s get back inside where it’s warm.”

  He resolved to put Mae and the Larson clan out of his mind for the rest of the day.

  When he went back inside, Layla was already dressed, clearly intending to head out.

  “Are you going to the training center?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  “I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “I’m thinking I might poke my head in there. I enjoy helping with all the dogs, and I definitely need to work off some of the calories I consumed yesterday.”

  That made him laugh. “Have fun.”

  “What about you?” She eyed him curiously. “What are your plans?”

  He swallowed and made a quick decision. “Though I know I should probably give Mae more distance for a longer period of time, I’m not the type to hold grudges,” he said, shrugging. “So today, the day after Thanksgiving, when most of the town will be out searching for bargains on Black Friday, I’m going to visit her.”

  “Good for you.” Her warm smile made him feel better about his decision.

  After breakfast, he drove over to Mae’s house. But not alone. This time, despite Mae’s so-called allergies, he brought Goose.

  Pulling up in front of the small cape in the run-down section of town, he parked. Mae like to tell everyone how she’d lived in that house for forty years with her dear husband. She’d stubbornly refused to allow either Hunter or her grandsons to make any changes or improvements to the place, claiming she liked to see it stay the way it had looked the day she’d moved there after getting married.

  Ever since then, Hunter had made only necessary repairs for her. Her grandsons, the Larson twins, refused to touch anything, claiming they were honoring her wishes. Privately, Hunter knew they were lazy, but of course Mae usually couldn’t see anything bad about them ever. Except when they started drinking. Then she got annoyed.

  Snapping on Goose’s lead, he got out and then helped Goose. Digging his phone from his pocket, he dialed Mae’s number, intending to let her know he was there along with hi
s dog. He wanted to finally show Mae how sweet Goose was and that she’d like the basset if she gave Goose a chance.

  No answer.

  As he walked up the driveway, he froze. Despite the chilly breeze, the side door swung back and forth, clearly open.

  “Come on, girl.” Hunter broke into a run, Goose easily keeping pace.

  Pushing through the door, he caught sight of Mae, lying on the kitchen floor, unconscious.

  His training kicked in. No blood, which meant she hadn’t hit her head or been shot. Next, he checked for a pulse. Once he’d located that, he dialed 911 and asked for an ambulance. After he hung up, he noticed Goose nosing around the basement door, which was usually locked but now sat ajar.

  As soon as his dog realized he was paying attention to her, Goose spun in two quick circles. She stopped, then pawed at the door, opening it a bit wider. Her signal, though not for electronics. He’d also trained her to detect weapons and drugs.

  Weird. Why would Goose do that here? While everyone in law enforcement knew the Larson twins were involved in illegal activities, he doubted they’d be stupid enough to stash anything here in their grandmother’s house. Even if they were, no way would Mae allow it.

  But then why did she always keep the door locked? Sorely tempted to peek, he checked on Mae again, then listened for the ambulance siren. They weren’t close yet. No surprise, since they’d be coming from the other side of town. An officer from Red Ridge PD would also likely back them up.

  Now or never. He’d always wondered what secrets Mae kept in her basement, which had been off-limits to everyone as long as he could remember. She’d once told Hunter it was where she kept her late son and daughter-in-law’s old furniture and possessions, items she couldn’t bear to part with and that the twins might want someday. Noel and Evan’s parents had died in a car accident when they were young, but being orphaned hadn’t brought them any closer to Hunter.

  Since Goose had alerted at the basement door, Hunter decided to check it out. Mae would never know. One fast look and he’d lock it back up with no one the wiser.

  Whistling for Goose, he opened the door and flipped on the light before heading down the stairs, his dog hot on his heels.

  At the bottom he stopped and stared, feeling sick. Goose went crazy, signaling over and over until he called her to his side. To his left, cases of automatic weapons, one open. Stockpiles of drugs. Cash—duffel bags full.

  He staggered backward, unable to believe his eyes. The Larson twins had kept their stash here all this time?

  Did Mae know? Logic told him she had to.

  Hands shaking, heart racing, he trudged back up the stairs. Now he could hear the siren, whether from ambulance or police car, he wasn’t sure.

  Either way, this discovery was big. Huge. He had no choice but to call it in. Quickly, he called Dispatch and requested additional backup.

  Mae began to stir a bit by the time Hunter opened the back door to let the EMTs in. They knelt beside her, checking her vitals and asking her questions. When she asked for a glass of orange juice and some nuts, one of them complied. She gulped down the juice and ate the nuts quickly. Right about then, two patrol cars pulled up, followed by another. It wasn’t every day that the RRPD made a bust of this size.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Mae protested, attempting to brush off the paramedics. She caught sight of Hunter and started to smile, but then her gaze slid past him to the open basement door. “Hunter?” she croaked. “Tell me you didn’t go down there.”

  Just then, the uniformed officers rushed inside. Hunter pointed, stepping aside to allow them past him.

  Two stayed with Mae. After questioning the paramedics, who still wanted Mae to go with them to the hospital for further checks, they informed her that she was under arrest and read her rights to her.

  Meanwhile, she continued to glare at Hunter. “After all I did for you,” she said, her voice both brittle and cutting. “This is how you repay me? By turning us in?” Spots of color bloomed high in her cheeks when she caught sight of Goose, sitting obediently by Hunter’s side. “Why is that animal inside my house? Get. It. Out. Now.”

  Hunter ignored her.

  More police cars arrived. Someone said they’d notified the DEA, who were on their way.

  Again, the EMTs asked Mae if she’d go to the hospital. “No,” she snarled. “I forgot to eat and my blood sugar must have gotten low. After the orange juice and nuts, I feel better. Leave me the hell alone.”

  The two EMTs exchanged glances and then wordlessly began packing up their equipment. When they’d finished, the taller man shook his head at the police officer. “We’ll leave her to you, then,” he said.

  Chief Colton arrived. “Good job,” he said, clapping Hunter on the shoulder. “We’ve sent men to pick up the Larson twins. It’s about time we’re finally able to make some charges stick.”

  Hearing that, Mae’s entire complexion went red. “I demand to speak with my lawyer.”

  “All in good time,” the police chief replied.

  Jaw clenched, she swung around to face Hunter. “You know they’ll kill you for this,” she told him. “You’re a dead man walking.”

  Hunter opened his mouth and closed it. Throat tight, he still struggled to reconcile the Mae he knew with all of this. Clearly, not only had she known what her grandsons were up to, but she’d aided and abetted them in their criminal enterprises.

  “Threatening an officer of the law is also a crime,” Chief Colton scolded her. “Cuff her and take her to the station, boys. I’ll be there shortly.”

  Hunter watched as they led Mae away, his chest aching. Right now, he recognized several of the emotions swirling around inside him—shock mingled with anger and disbelief.

  “Come on, Officer Black. Show me what you found.” The chief gestured toward the basement stairs. “I know this had to be rough on you, but good job.”

  Though the praise didn’t make him feel any better, Hunter nodded. “Thanks.” Bending down to scratch Goose’s neck, he gave her the hand signal to go to work. She rushed past him, down the stairs. “Who knows what else she might find,” Hunter told his boss. “There’s a lot down there, right in open view. But there might be more hidden. Let’s go and see.”

  * * *

  Aware she couldn’t avoid her emotions forever, Layla threw herself into exercising the dogs she was assigned. These canines hadn’t yet completed training and either weren’t matched with a handler or were due to be shipped back to their various police departments once they were ready.

  It didn’t help that her father hadn’t even bothered to call and wish her a happy Thanksgiving. In the past, at least he’d done that. Pitiful as it might be, she usually looked forward to his call, considering it proof that their tenuous family tie still mattered to him.

  Instead, she’d heard from all four of her half siblings. They’d all been pleased she’d finally made plans to do something with people for the holiday, since she’d always declined their occasional invitations to join them and their significant others. Though she’d tried to be careful not to mention Hunter’s name, Patience worked closely with the RRPD as the training center vet, and since he’d extended an open invitation to the officers and training center staff, she’d connected the dots. Her sister had been full of questions about whether this meant she was going to marry Hamlin, but Layla had said no comment, much to her sister’s annoyance.

  To Layla’s surprise, no one mentioned the elephant in the room—their father. While they were all used to his disappearing on holidays, everyone had to know she’d taken some time off from the family business. Even Gemma, who liked to poke her nose in everyone’s business, didn’t mention it. Which was actually fine with Layla. She wanted to avoid making an actual decision just a little bit longer.

  Right now, she found it easier to take things one day at a time. Her nature had always been supe
ranalytical—her own father had often told her she was a born accountant. But she knew if she sat down and analyzed all the changes she’d been thinking about making, she’d panic. This wasn’t just a simple tweak to her lifestyle. She’d be turning her entire life upside down.

  Again, she pushed the thought away, focusing on the regal German shepherd she needed to walk. Elsie had just turned one year old and begun her training recently. Due to her youth, she needed frequent walks. Layla had gotten permission to take her out of the training center yard, down Main Street and onto one of the trails that led up into the woods. Since these trails were used frequently, by both joggers and walkers alike, Layla felt this would be help socializing the young dog.

  She stuck her phone in her back pocket, clipped her little canister of citronella spray to her belt, double-checked the dog’s harness and set off. Since Elsie had recently completed basic obedience, she heeled like a dream, walking alertly in perfect position at Layla’s left side. Layla had been instructed to bring the citronella spray as a precaution, as it could safely break up a dogfight.

  Despite the brisk air, with the sun shining and only a few clouds dotting the blue sky, it was a perfect day. Most of the snow had melted. Surprised at the relative emptiness of the trails, Layla guessed most people had chosen shopping or hanging out with family rather than enjoying the outdoors. Still, she supposed there’d be enough foot traffic to suit her purpose, which was to see how Elsie reacted.

  The first jogger they encountered didn’t have a dog. Elsie watched him go past, alert with her ears forward. She didn’t growl or bark or otherwise react, so Layla praised her effusively.

  The trail wound through a heavily forested area and along the edge of a stream. Layla loved coming here in every season, spring, summer or fall, but often the trail was inaccessible in winter due to deep snow.

  Elsie growled, drawing Layla’s attention. As far as she could see, no one was ahead of them or behind them. The dog growled again, louder this time. Slightly alarmed, Layla checked out the underbrush on both sides of the trail. Hopefully, whatever threat Elsie felt would turn out to be wildlife of the not harmful kind.

 

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