Runaway Colton

Again Fowler cut him off. “That doesn’t matter. I’m willing to give you double what you usually charge.”

“How much was her bail?”

Fowler recoiled, peering at Cord down the length of his impressive nose. “I fail to see how that concerns you.”

“Seriously?” Somehow, Cord kept from snorting. “If you did your research as you claim, you’d know my fee is 10 percent of the bail.”

“Her bail was set at fifty thousand.”

“Which means you’ll pay me five thousand. Up front.”

“No.” Fowler shook his head. “Like I said, I’m willing to double that.”

Though Cord knew he should keep his mouth shut, he didn’t. Fowler wasn’t the type to throw away money. “Why?”

“This is a delicate matter. Piper may be a fugitive and I don’t really know if she’s guilty or innocent, but she’s a Colton. No matter what. This matter must be kept quiet.” Fowler cleared his throat and lifted his chin.

Suddenly, even though he had past-due bills to pay, Cord didn’t want to get involved. When he’d been a kid on the ranch, Piper had always been kind to him, even though he’d grown up shabby. “Look,” he told the other man. “My niece is missing. She ran away a few weeks ago, right after she turned eighteen. I’m sorry, but my first priority is finding her. I don’t have time to hunt down Piper.”

“I’ll offer you triple.”

Fifteen thousand dollars. Nothing to sneeze at, but since most of the fugitives Cord searched for had bails set at one hundred thousand, he regularly made ten grand a case. This still wasn’t enough to divert Cord’s attention from locating Renee. He wasn’t sure any amount would be enough.

After all, it was his fault she’d taken off. He’d done a piss-poor job of looking after her when she’d come to live with him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Cord began.

“Fine.” The snap in Fowler’s cultured voice warred with the grudging respect in his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain. Thirty thousand dollars. Cash. Up front.”

Damn. No one paid up front. Usually, the fee was paid only once the fugitive had been apprehended.

Though Cord wasn’t sure if Fowler was playing games, he knew he had no choice. Plus, while he was searching for Piper, he could continue the hunt to find his niece, which had turned out to be more difficult than he’d anticipated. Renee had no money and nowhere to go, yet he couldn’t seem to locate even a hint of her whereabouts. “I accept,” he said, before the other man could change his mind. “I’ll locate Piper. What do you want me to do with her once I find her?”

“Bring her home immediately, of course. Everyone is really worried about her. We’re all willing to help in whatever way we can. Let her know I’m willing to pay all her legal fees.”

While Fowler’s tone sounded earnest, something just felt off.

None of his business. “I don’t want the entire amount before I do anything. You can pay 10 percent up front,” Cord said.

Though Fowler’s derisive expression said he thought Cord was an idiot, he nodded. “Agreed.”

After the two men shook hands, Fowler pulled a thick wad of money out of his suit pocket. While Cord was processing this, Fowler peeled off thirty one-hundred dollar bills and handed them over.

Though he knew to do so would be goading the other man, Cord couldn’t help himself. Slowly, methodically, he began counting the bills out loud. “And three thousand,” he finished, pinning Fowler with his gaze. “The balance is payable immediately once I locate her.”

“How long will this take?” Fowler didn’t bother to keep the impatience out of his voice. “Thanksgiving is in a couple of weeks. I’d like to have the entire family at the table.”

“When’s the court date?” Cord countered. “She’ll be back well in advance of when she’s supposed to appear in court.”

At the question, the uptight businessman actually appeared uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and tugging at the collar of his starched white shirt. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “But I will find out and get back to you.”

“Sounds good.” Ready for Fowler to leave, Cord headed for the door. He turned the knob and pulled it open. “Thanks for coming. Once you get me that court date, I’ll give you weekly updates on the search.”

Fowler frowned. He didn’t move. “Weekly? I’d prefer daily.”

“Not possible. I can’t spare that kind of time. It would take away from the actual searching. I’ll call you once a week, more if I have news.”

“Fine.” Fowler stalked to the door. “And remember, keep this quiet. No one needs to know about this, no one but the two of us.”

Chapter 2

It took a lot of effort—head up, shoulders back, carefree smile—but Piper Colton figured she looked pretty damn confident, the way a Colton should. Not at all like she felt inside, all shaky and nervous, her heart pounding as loud as a runaway colt’s hooves. Usually, she’d learned if she pretended self-assurance, she felt that way, too. What had once been a coping mechanism had become a way of life.

So what if she was often accused of wearing rose-colored glasses? She figured seeing the good in the world was much better than constantly looking for gloom and doom.

Except now. Getting arrested—finding out when they placed the handcuffs on her wrists that this wasn’t some kind of prank her brother T.C. had cooked up for her—had given her resilience a severe beating. So much so that she scarcely recognized herself. And now she found herself back to pretending to be the person she’d believed she’d become.

And soon she’d be a criminal for real. Ack. If she had a choice, she’d rather be doing almost anything than this—emptying her savings account so she could stay untraceable while on the run. On the lam. Usually, a turn of phrase could make her chuckle. Not today.

Approaching the bank counter, she summed up a smile for Colin Jameson, who’d recently graduated from high school and landed a job as a teller. He blushed when she smiled at him, but handled the transaction without a lot of questions, which was exactly what she wanted. If she’d gotten Mrs. Bell, the older teller would have peppered Piper with questions.

Accepting the white envelope containing her hard earned cash, Piper tucked it in her purse and turned to go.

To her relief and surprise she made it to her car without anyone stopping her. Once inside, she locked the door and took deep breaths, trying to stop shaking. She didn’t know why she felt so guilty. It wasn’t like she was robbing the bank or something.

Starting the car, she carefully backed out of the parking space, waving at Mr. Gumpert as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Carefully keeping to the speed limit, she drove toward Dallas, even though she had no intention of staying there. At least not yet.

Only once she left the town limits behind did her heart rate slow. Though she knew she needed to make a strategy, truthfully she hadn’t thought much beyond getting every penny of her cash. Now with that accomplished, she needed to deal with making some sort of practical plan. Starting with where to go.

Hiding in plain sight would be great, but not so much in a smallish town where her entire family was well-known. Since she wanted to try and find out who’d really killed Eldridge, she had to stay close. Not Dallas, since the hustle and bustle and huge size of the place made her nervous—once a country girl, always a country girl—but maybe one of the closer suburbs, near enough that running into the city wouldn’t be a big deal, but far enough that she could go unnoticed.

Since Eldridge had operated mostly from downtown Dallas, she knew she’d have to start her investigation there.

Especially since the sheriff’s office hadn’t done much of a job investigating. Once they’d made up their minds Piper was the killer, they’d stopped looking for anyone else.

She still couldn’t figure out what she’d done that had made her a suspect. In fact, when the two deputies had shown up to arrest her, at first she’d believed someone was playing a joke on her. The cold bite of the steel handcuffs had made her realize otherwise.

Still, trying to wrap her mind around her circumstances made her feel ill. Someone, somewhere, truly believed her capable of murdering the only man who’d been a father to her.

As far as she knew, her court date hadn’t been set yet. She had until then to come up with the real killer or she’d need to have a better alibi than the truth if she wanted to stay out of prison for a crime she hadn’t committed. Though truthfully, the idea of fleeing to Mexico was tempting, there was no way she was leaving T.C., Reid and Alanna on the hook for the $50,000 bail they’d posted for her. They’d lose all of that if she didn’t show up in court. No matter what, she knew she couldn’t do that to them. They’d believed in her and helped her when she needed it the most. She’d never forget that. Somehow, someday, she’d pay them back.

Pulling into a fast-food restaurant on the outskirts of town, she parked. Before she did anything else, she needed to have time to gather her thoughts. Though she’d been saving for close to a year to start her own business, she hated to blow through her savings if she didn’t have to. She refused to let go of the hope she might still open her Piper’s Funky Furniture store one day. Her hobby of fixing up and painting old junked-out furniture bright colors had taken off. Friends, and then friends of those friends, had purchased pieces from her online store. Enough of them to make her realize she needed to have a brick-and-mortar shop of her own. She’d actually saved enough to get started and had begun making plans to find a spot to rent after the holidays. She’d even accumulated some inventory—a couple of chests of drawers and a lovely china cabinet that she’d painted turquoise.

Now all of that would be put on hold. Hopefully, not permanently.

First things first. As a member of the Colton family, she was often recognized. She’d need a disguise, like a new haircut and color, maybe a pair of oversize eyeglasses.

And then she’d need a place to stay. Her best bet would be to find a cabin for rent, one of those summer places where prices would be slashed since it was off-season. She thought she’d head toward Lake Whitney, after checking on her phone and learning of just such a place.

Item number one. Alter her appearance. And no going about it halfway. She’d seen a trendy little salon outside of Terrell. Fingering her long, silky locks, she grinned. She’d always wondered what it would be like to have super short hair. Looked like she was about to find out.

Once she’d been seated in the stylist’s chair, Piper gave the young woman instructions to give her an edgy cut that would be easy to maintain. She also requested hot-pink tips, though she asked to keep her pale blond hair color.

An hour later, staring at herself in the salon mirror, Piper laughed out loud. She could barely recognize herself. “I should have done this years ago,” she remarked.

“I agree.” The quiet stylist brought a mirror around to show Piper the back. “The cut brings out your cheekbones and makes your eyes appear huge!”

“And I love the pink tips.” Odd how such a simple thing as a haircut could make Piper feel like herself again. She paid in cash, tipping exactly 20 percent, though she wished she could give more. For now, she had to be frugal with her money. This was all she had until she found out the truth about what had happened to Eldridge and exonerated herself.

All she had to do was find the true murderer. Since she had few illusions that finding Eldridge’s real killer would be easy, maybe she should hire a private investigator. Could she afford that? Or could she afford not to?

She thought back to a guy she’d once known. Cord Maxwell. He’d lived on the ranch as a kid since his father had been a ranch hand. Though she’d lost track of him over the years, she’d heard he’d gone to work with Sam Ater as a PI.

Walking out of the salon a good seven inches of hair lighter, she shook her head, loving the way air felt on her naked neck. She’d never worn her hair this short, nor had layers. She had to say, the tousled look and different colors made her feel like a totally different person. Since that’s exactly how she needed to look, she considered it money well spent. All she needed now was a pair of oversize eyeglasses and hopefully no one would look twice. She drove to Walmart, walked inside and purchased a pair of frames with clear, nonprescription lenses. Slipping them on, she caught sight of herself in her car window and grinned. Perfect.

Now she’d taken care of a disguise, which hopefully would buy her time to search for information about where Eldridge had been and who he’d seen the day he’d supposedly been killed. The one thing she didn’t understand was how the police could assume he’d been murdered when they didn’t even have a body. Since they couldn’t seem to find one, she believed quite strongly that Eldridge wasn’t dead.

The bloody shirt needed explaining. Who hated her enough to try and frame her for murder?

Rubbing her hands together, trademark optimism back in place, she needed to decide what to do next.

She had a small problem. Okay, maybe a big one. Despite watching lots of detective and true crime shows on TV, she actually had no idea how to start searching for Eldridge. If the police couldn’t find him, how could she?

Of course, she didn’t think the sheriff and his deputies had searched much once they’d decided to arrest her.

Her brief consideration of hiring Cord Maxwell came back around. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. She needed a professional. Someone who did this sort of thing all the time. Someone with contacts, who could be discreet, and would accept a payment in cash.

She thought he might be just that person. The only problem—his office was on Third Street, back in town.

Glancing at her watch, she knew she had enough time to drive back toward town and stop at his office. But then she reconsidered. Not only did she run the risk of being recognized, even with her disguise, but what if Cord had heard she’d left town? This could be misconstrued as skipping out on her bail. He was a bounty hunter, after all.

Instead, she decided to call him. Once he’d verbally accepted her offer to work for her, he couldn’t bring her in, could he? She thought it would be a conflict of interest. Or something.

Using her phone, she did a quick internet search for S.A. Enterprises and located their web page. Once she had the phone number, she put it in her phone. Her finger hovered above the green phone icon. Was she sure she wanted to do this?

Though a trickle of fear clogged her throat, she knew she had to make the call. Truth be told, she had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

* * *

When his office phone rang, Cord almost didn’t answer it. He’d spent the last hour mapping out a search area. Since Piper Colton wasn’t used to being on the lam, he figured she’d be easy to find. Of course, he’d believed the same thing about Renee.

Something, call it instinct or maybe just desperation, had him reaching for the phone. After he answered and heard the husky feminine voice on the line, he could hardly believe he could be this lucky.

Piper Colton. And she wanted to hire him.

“Wait, slow down,” he said, barely able to make sense out of the torrent of words. “Maybe you should come in so we can talk.”

She went silent then. For a few seconds at least, long enough for him to worry he might have blown it. “Or we can meet somewhere,” he added, aware she might not feel comfortable venturing back into town.

“There’s a flea market tomorrow in Terrell,” she finally said, sounding remarkably upbeat considering her situation. “Meet me in front of the entrance at nine. It’s usually pretty crowded, so I’ll wear a yellow T-shirt.”

Quickly, he agreed. Evidently, Piper Colton still liked to hunt down junked out furniture and make it pretty. He’d actually planned to begin searching at the Terrell Trade Days.

She ended the call before he could question her further. No matter. He could hardly believe this case would be so easy. Not even two days had passed since Fowler had hired him.

Grinning, he wished Sam were still here to high-five. Well-paying, quick and easy cases happened very seldom.

The next morning, Cord donned his usual jeans, work boots and T-shirt. Though he wore his pistol in the concealed holster, he knew he most likely wouldn’t have to use it. One thing he’d learned over the years was that bringing in a fugitive was nothing like what was portrayed in movies and books. Nine times out of ten, the best way to apprehend someone was to talk to them. Explain the cost of their actions. And to listen when they attempted to justify what they’d done.

By the time he and Piper finished shooting the breeze, he anticipated she’d be eager to return home to face the music.

Years had passed since he’d seen Piper, and he remembered her as a skinny waif of a kid, all legs and elbows, with her long blond hair worn in twin braids. Oddly enough, in all this time he hadn’t run into her in town. He supposed he might have seen her from a distance, but couldn’t say for certain. He’d never been one to pay that much attention to the Colton family’s coming and goings. Those folks operated on a different plane than the rest of town.

Despite the overcast morning, the unseasonably warm temperature enabled him not only to go without a jacket, but to wear short sleeves. Texas weather, always unpredictable. Eighty degrees one day, a hard freeze the next. As far as Cord was concerned, he preferred heat over cold.

Driving out to the flea market, he realized Piper hadn’t been exaggerating when she talked of the crowds. A mile from the flea market and he sat in a traffic jam that rivaled Dallas’s early morning rush hour.

Finally, he spotted a parking lot with openings. Handing over his ten dollar fee, he parked his truck. Now to find Piper Colton and talk her into returning home.

Long lines formed at the entrance. Realizing people were waiting to purchase tickets to get in, he muttered a curse. Whoever heard of paying admission to an oversize garage sale, which was all a flea market was as far as he was concerned.

Bypassing the lines earned him several frowns and glares. He ignored this, scanning the crowd for a woman in a yellow shirt.

Of course, there were several. The first, he discounted immediately as she had to be at least eighty. The next could be the right age, but she had three kids in tow.

And then he saw her. Piper Colton. Slender and beautiful and much sexier than he’d expected. She stood tall and confident, occasionally glancing up from her phone before returning her attention back to it. Though still athletic, she had curves in all the right places. She’d cut her blond hair short and tipped the spiky ends with hot pink, giving her an edgy look that he found erotic as hell. The stylish cut went well with her heart-shaped face, showing off her high cheekbones and making her green eyes appear huge, despite the large black eyeglasses she wore.

The pale yellow of her T-shirt made him smile. He’d pictured lemon yellow, not this watered down version that suited her coloring so well.

Striding toward her, he kept that smile on his face. She looked up, met his gaze, and he felt his entire world shift on its axis.

What the hell? Pushing away the momentary sense of disorientation, he held out his hand. “Cord Maxwell,” he said quietly.

“Pleased to meet you.” Though she slid her fingers into his and shook his hand, he noticed she didn’t offer her name. The fleeting firmness of her cool grip on his fingers pleased him. There was nothing tentative in this woman, which was good. She’d need all of her strength to face the days ahead.

“I need your assistance,” she began. “As I’m sure you’ve probably heard, my adoptive father has disappeared. Since you’re a private investigator, I want to hire you to help me find out who kidnapped him and where he is.”

Though he tried, he couldn’t quite contain his shock.

“What’d you think I wanted?” she asked, her dry tone warring with her serious expression.

He gave her the truth. “I thought you might ask me to help you find information to beat the murder charge.”

A subtle flash in her eyes before she looked down. Anger? Resignation? Maybe both. “You know about that.”

“Yes.” Debating if now would be the right time, he exhaled and went with it. “Your brother Fowler paid me a visit.”

A combination of distaste and pain reflexed back at him in her expressive eyes. “What did Fowler want?”

“He hired me to find you.”

She froze. “Do you think you might have mentioned that when I first contacted you?”

“I thought maybe we could talk first.”

Barely had he gotten the words out when she spun to take off. He grabbed her arm. “Wait...”

“Let me go or I’ll scream.” She spoke through clenched teeth.

“Please. Hear me out.”

“Release. My. Arm.” She spat. “You’re hurting me.”

That last did it. Even though he doubted his tight grip was painful, he let her go.

Of course she took off. A fast walk, then a jog. He hurried along right behind her. No one in the crowd waiting in line to enter the flea market paid them any attention—if they did, Cord figured they’d assume a lovers’ spat.

Piper’s jog became an all-out sprint. As he did the same, he couldn’t help but feel proud of her. She had no way to know he ran every morning. Or that he’d completed many marathons, too many to count.

Instead of catching her, he kept pace with her, keeping a few feet away. When she reached a white BMW, evidently her vehicle, she stopped and fumbled in her small shoulder bag for a key.

He made his move, stepping between her and the driver’s side door. “Ten minutes,” he said. “Just give me ten minutes of your time. I just want to talk.”

Gaze raking over him, she shoved her glasses back up on her nose and considered. “I don’t see what good that will do. If you’re working for Fowler, you can’t help me. Conflict of interest and all that.”

“Maybe I can do both,” he said. This got her attention.

“Fine. Ten minutes.” Unlocking her car, she gestured at him to get in. “Start talking.”

As he folded himself into the passenger seat, he realized she smelled like peaches. Which made him think of summer, his favorite time of the year. Biting into a plump, ripe peach with the juice running down his chin. And she, completely unaware of her appeal, eyed him with skepticism plain in every tense line of her body.

“I believe you,” he told her. “I remember when we were kids on the ranch. You wouldn’t even kill a bug.”

She nodded, but didn’t speak.

Neither did he. He could wait her out. Sam had drilled into him how patience solved more cases than anything else.

“But?” she finally prompted.

He hid his rueful smile. “When’s your court date?”

“I have no idea. My sister said she was told I’d get notice in the mail. She is going to hire an attorney to represent me.”

“Fowler said to tell you he’ll pay all your legal fees.” Might as well put that out there.

Her lovely eyes narrowed. “Why would he want to do that? He and Marceline made it clear they think I’m guilty.”

“I think Fowler feels bad. He paid me a lot of money to find you and bring you back home.”

Her pointed look told him what she thought about that. “And that’s your cue to get out of my car.”

“My ten minutes aren’t up yet,” he protested, keeping his tone light. “How about this. I’ll work with you to find out what really happened to Eldridge if you agree to go back with me before your hearing.”

“You want to make a deal?” The suspicion dripping from her voice made him smile.

“Yes.”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“I knew you way back when,” he reminded her, even as he tried to reconcile the tomboy she’d once been with the confident and sexy woman sitting next to him. “I figure you couldn’t have changed too much.”