Wait.
“Fritz lied about me, blaming me for infidelities that didn’t happen... What if he did the same to someone else? What if one of his girlfriends was putting pressure on him to leave me, maybe threatening to tell me or someone else about their affair, and he started telling lies about her to protect his reputation?”
It made sense.
Good sense.
And was exactly the kind of thinking she needed to be doing to help herself...
Clarke sat forward, a look of interest on his suddenly businesslike face. “That would establish a motive, for sure,” he said, and then turned back to the desktop computer, typing and reading. She was left wondering if she should clear out, head back up to the room that was a much nicer cell than the one she’d left, but pretty much still a cell.
She’d packed in such a hurry, she hadn’t brought much with her to do, but she loved to read. And could possibly lose herself in one of the books in her room.
Or she could think about her future. What she wanted to do with it—if she lived to get to it. She needed to find a financial adviser she could trust to help her deal with Fritz’s insurance money. And with the sale of the building.
And to call someone to clean up the mess in her house after the crime scene was released. She needed to go through things and get rid of a lot of it. Everything of Fritz’s, or anything that reminded her of him, had to go. To his parents. And to the community center...
“There’s nothing in here about any of the girlfriends in particular.” Clarke’s words carried on as though there hadn’t been a few minutes’ lapse in their conversation.
“I didn’t know about them,” she told him. “Neither did his family. It stands to reason that he was good at keeping them a secret. Out-of-town weekends tend to help with that.” She hadn’t meant to be snarky.
This man was helping her. Not holding her hostage. He wasn’t making a prisoner out of her. Her own life choices had done that.
Because she’d been charmed by a charmer.
And now she was sitting across from another one. Her stomach jolted when he turned his compassionate blue eyes on her.
“Word is that you’ve had a lot of girlfriends,” she said. “The guard who was talking to me while we waited for my ride home from prison mentioned it when she told me that it was you who found the evidence that got me exonerated...”
Skin turning red, she knew she couldn’t leave it at that. “Because I’d asked her,” she admitted, rather than lay the impropriety solely on the guard who’d been only too willing to dish on a Colton. Even though Everleigh knew it was inappropriate, she was genuinely curious.
“You asked her about the number of girlfriends I’ve had?” He sounded...surprised...but not affronted. More...curious, at least.
“No. Of course not. I asked her where you fell in the family tree. I’d never heard of you until I saw you in court. I knew of Chief Melissa Colton, of course, and Detective Troy Colton, who’s your cousin...and that you have other cousins who work in the GGPD...”
“I’m the oldest of four siblings. Three boys and a girl. Melissa is the only one of us who actually works for the GGPD. Travis is the founder and CEO of Colton Plastics, and Stanton is a bodyguard. Dad’s Frank Colton, a shipping executive and a really nice guy, by the way, and Mom’s the artist he fell in love with while he was on vacation in Italy. I have a number of Colton cousins, many of whom work at the GGPD. And I don’t see how any of this leads to conversations about my love life.”
He wasn’t going to let it go.
She didn’t blame him. She’d been out of line, bringing it up.
“I... Just so you know...I don’t blame your family for what happened. They were just doing their jobs...”
“Not well enough, if no one had noticed the discrepancies in detective reports and the information coming from forensics,” he said. “And I still don’t see what any of it has to do with who I’ve dated...”
“I only asked the guard if you were married. And I asked if Melissa was, too, and Troy. Trying to get a feel for what I was up against in terms of understanding how a spouse would lie about another spouse’s infidelity. The guard took it from there.” She hadn’t been sure if the woman had been trying to warn her off getting any ideas about Clarke Colton—not that Everleigh had been at all interested—or if she had merely been engaging in a bit of gossip.
His expression changed, the interest diminishing a bit...which was fine by her.
But.
She was staying at his house. Was probably going to be in his company, almost exclusively, until they caught whoever had tried to kill her. She had to know who and what he was. Who and what she had to guard against.
She’d fallen for a charmer once. She was apparently susceptible to them. And had to fight off any danger in that area before it had a chance to infiltrate her system.
“I can’t help it if women are drawn to me,” he said, pulling a little notepad from beneath the laptop and grabbing a pen, as though the subject was done.
“You can help how you react around them,” she said. “You don’t have to flirt with them just because they’re there.”
He frowned. “I don’t flirt with anyone if they’re not receptive to it. And this isn’t really any of your business, by the way.”
“At least answer me this, since I’m staying here... Is there anyone who’s going to take exception to me being here? I don’t need any more enemies right now.”
“No. And I don’t have a girlfriend.” His tone had an edge to it. “Now, do you have any idea who any of the women were with whom your husband was having affairs? I think we need to start with them.”
Yeah, she thought so, too. And... “I feel so stupid, but no, I truly have no idea. I was still reeling from the fact that he’d seen an attorney and was complaining about the paperwork involved in filing for divorce to even think about putting names to the nebulous factors out there. Maybe one of his girlfriends wasn’t happy with the fact that he hadn’t officially filed the papers yet. If he’d told her he was dumping me for her...” She’d seen it happen that way on television. Had read about it in books.
Clarke wrote in his notebook. No longer frowning, but his expression was not really friendly anymore, either. Which was just fine. She had been prying into his personal life, after all. And couldn’t deny she was interested in his answer, despite herself.
“I hate all of this...hate that for the past three months it’s all I can think about...and I still don’t have the answers. I wish to God I’d gotten a better look at who tried to run me down this morning, but with that ski mask and the gloves and coat...”
It was like she was being made helpless at every turn, and she’d never been a helpless woman. She was the one who helped others. Always.
“I just don’t get why, if this is an ex-lover, someone who felt he’d jilted her, she would be looking for something at your house?”
“I don’t know.” Everleigh shook her head. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. What anyone could have been looking for. But then, Fritz was apparently able to keep a multitude of secrets from me, so what do I really know? It’s anybody’s guess...”
“If it’s okay with you, I plan to ask around about who Fritz has been seen with. And to follow credit-card receipts for out-of-town trips to see if we can pinpoint who he was with.”
He looked over at her, his gaze humanizing again, as though he saw her as an individual, not a job, and she was glad. Whether she liked it or not, she was.
She gave him permission to do whatever he needed to do to keep her safe. And hoped to God that the only safety in jeopardy was physical. Because she wasn’t at all confident that when it came to her emotional safety, Clarke Colton was the man for the job.
Chapter 5
Everleigh was just getting up to leave Clarke’s office when her phone rang. The s
ound drew his attention to her just in time for him to notice the mixed expression that crossed her face. Dread. But not fear. Resignation. She caught him watching her and his gaze dropped immediately.
Landing on the lovely curves of breasts completely filling out the black sweater she’d had on under her coat. With the tight-fitting jeans and black boots, that tousled blond hair, this woman could have walked out of any fancy lunch place where people went to see and be seen.
And yet...there was nothing flashy about her. The snow on the ground required boots, and jeans and a sweater were pretty much the go-to for winters in their small Michigan town. Not everyone filled out a sweater as she did, however...
The fourth ring had him meeting her gaze again with a sense of his own resignation. She’d caught him staring at her breasts. Best just to own it. So, he did. By holding her gaze openly. Not saying anything. No excuses. Or awkward explanations. Her breasts had captivated his attention for a moment, and now he was looking her in the eye.
“It’s my mother,” she said.
Taking him out of his own sordid world with a shot back to reality.
“What do I tell them?”
They needed to talk about that.
“Can you call her back?”
She nodded, watching the phone until it stopped ringing.
“Obviously, you have to tell your family you aren’t home,” Clarke said, back in business mode, with a swear to himself that he wouldn’t stray again. “What you tell them as to why is up to you. But you shouldn’t tell anyone where you’re staying. Not until we know who’s after you.”
“You think it’s a member of my own family?”
“No.” He shook his head, but not emphatically. He’d seen stranger things than relatives after each other. “But it could be someone you all know. Someone Fritz knew better than you were aware he did.” He shrugged, not wanting to hurt her any more than she’d been already but knowing that he wasn’t there to protect her emotional health. He was there to rid her of the threat to her physical safety. “The fact that someone is after you, right after you are exonerated of your husband’s murder, and is going through your home... This tells me it’s personal. Which means, most likely, the perp is someone you know.” He couldn’t emphasize the “knowing” part enough. If she underestimated...trusted where she shouldn’t...
“How do I know you aren’t just isolating me here for some nefarious reason of your own? Taking advantage of what happened this morning?” The question didn’t hold a lot of fear, or even a totally serious note in her voice, but he saw the doubt lingering in her gaze.
He handed her his phone. “Find my sister’s contact. It’s under ‘Melissa Colton,’” he said, completely serious, and when she hesitated, he nodded toward the phone without breaking eye contact with her. “Please. I should have done this already. Because you’re absolutely right to question me and I’m not going to be able to keep you safe if you don’t trust me.”
She touched his phone screen. No way he should have been aroused by her slender, gentle fingers on his phone, and it wasn’t like he was getting hard or anything, but...jeez. What in the hell was the matter with him? Being attracted to a woman was one thing... Getting all het up about keeping her safe, feeling all überprotective...
“Okay, so your sister’s contact information is on your phone,” she said.
“Call her.”
“I’m not calling the chief of police.”
“Call her. She’ll understand. That’s her personal number. She’ll see my name come up. She’ll answer.” Older brothers had some perks after all, even when they’d spent years bucking the system little sisters stood for.
He watched while she dialed, got a little distracted when the glass that had so recently pressed to his face pressed to hers, and then listened as, with apparently no trepidation at all, she said, “Chief Colton? This is Everleigh Emerson. We met the other day outside the prison...”
A pause followed. His sister would be putting her at ease, letting her know that she remembered her, or some other such thing meant to reassure her. Melissa was a great cop. But she also knew how to deal with people a whole lot better than he did.
Mostly because she had more patience than he did.
He didn’t stay in relationships long enough to grow any patience, and after the last debacle...he’d lost a lot of confidence in his ability to set any woman at ease.
“Yes, ma’am. He told me to call, actually, so that...”
Then, “Yeah.” The last was accompanied by a somewhat knowing smile, though Everleigh wasn’t looking in his direction. And Clarke reassessed the wisdom in his choice to sic his sister on a woman he suddenly wanted to think well of him.
Not just a woman he was trying to protect, but one he wanted to impress?
He tapped on his keyboard. Hard. Looked at the screen he’d brought up. Telling himself he was working when, in fact, he wasn’t focusing on a single thing the computer was showing him.
“I will. And...thank you...”
He continued to stare at the screen.
“She said she asked you to keep me safe.” He glanced over to take the phone from her. Had himself back under control. Or more so, anyway.
It wasn’t like he was getting all randy and ready to jump her bones, in any event. Noticing beautiful women was just part of being him. Had been since he’d hit puberty. Flirting with them came naturally, too.
Taking it any further than that... He’d never had a complaint in that area. Never pushed himself on a woman, or even came on to one who hadn’t already indicated that she’d be open to his advance.
Finding Everleigh Emerson attractive was a nuisance, but not the end of the world. It didn’t even mean the end of his ability to do a great job for her without putting her in any kind of a compromising situation.
What was just...unnerving...was the protective instincts the woman was raising in him. He’d had protection jobs before. He’d never felt so...personally invested as he did with this one.
He wanted to ask what else his sister had said, but she had her phone to her ear, saving him from making that mistake into an inappropriate personal foray. “My mom left a voice mail,” she said, standing there in front of his desk, owning the room, as far as he was concerned.
When he saw her expression falter, her features falling into a state of nothingness, everything about and within him sharpened. She’d barely ended the call before he asked, “What’s wrong?”
Falling back into the chair she’d vacated, she said, “My mom’s throwing a big party for me tomorrow night,” she said, her tone filled with doom and gloom. “She’s invited everyone who’s ever been close to me...and everyone who’s ever been close to Gram. It’s to welcome me, which I could easily miss if it were up to me...” She winced, her voice carrying a note of hurt, but before he could commiserate, let her know he understood how her mother’s mistrust must have pained her, she continued with, “But it’s also to gather to show support for Gram, kind of in line with the protests... I can’t miss that.”
He agreed, but not necessarily for the same reasons. “You don’t want to go,” he said, homed in on what he was gleaning the most.
“Would you? My family, my own parents, yeah, they came to my defense when I was first arrested, but when the evidence showed that I’d killed Fritz, they all believed it. Every single one of them jumped ship, except for Gram. Not one of them was even swayed by Gram’s continued and quite vocal belief in me. None of them helped her get anyone to take another look at my case. If they’d gathered together then, perhaps your sister or another detective would have bothered to take a second look at things. Instead, with even my own parents thinking I did it, Gram had to resort to kidnapping to get anyone to take her seriously...”
He’d worked hard to earn back his family’s trust after years of putting them on edge by living by his own set of rules
—going out most nights and having fun, skating on the edge of the law when solving cases, seeking out dangerous adventures rather than settling down. Only the fact that he’d had a decent code of ethics had prevented him from losing them more completely...
“Still, for Gram, I have to go...”
“You also need to go so that we can see who’s there. In the first place, it seems likely that you know whoever it is who’s after you, and so it stands to reason that the person will be there. Or, on the other hand, if someone key is missing, that’s who I’ll want to look at. So often, though, perpetrators insinuate themselves into crime scenes and situations. They have to see what effect they’re having, keep tabs on what everyone is saying and doing.”
“But...how am I going to...? I think it’s pretty clear by now that I’m not the greatest at choosing who to trust...”
He wanted to point out that she’d trusted him...but she was right... Until he’d had her call Melissa, she’d taken him at his word for every aspect of their plan. Even moving into his home with him without consulting anyone else.
Yes, he was related to law enforcement. And, yes, he was the one responsible for finding the evidence that won her her freedom...but still...he was also a man who hadn’t always followed every letter of the law when conducting his investigations. Results mattered most, he found.
And it made him feel...more...like a better man. Pleased that she’d trusted him enough to move into his home. More of a trustworthy individual. More of a decent human being.
Both little pieces of the self-respect he’d been eroding over the years of balking at societal constraints.
“I have a plan,” he said, things occurring to him on the fly, but with that sense of rightness he got when he was on track with an investigation. “You’re going to need to trust me on it, though.”
“Of course. I’m here, aren’t I?” Her expression was completely without guile. She saw him as a means to her safety. Not as a single man, despite her probing questions earlier.
The realization left a sting of disappointment in its wake. But he saw the usefulness of her perspective, too.
Colton's Killer Pursuit Page 5