Colton Christmas Protector

She pinched the bridge of her nose and chuckled without humor. “Very smoothly put, Reid. All that was missing was patting me on the head and sending me back to the kitchen with my apron and high heels.”

He cringed. “Aw, come on, Pen. You know I’m not a chauvinist. I just want to protect you from as much of the fallout from this as I can. You’ve had a tough enough time without adding—”

“Don’t tell me how hard my life has been,” she interrupted, bristling, “when you’re the reason my husband—” She gasped and grabbed the dashboard as Reid abruptly took a sharp and unexpected turn onto a side road. “What are you doing? This isn’t the way to my house!”

“I’m not going to your house...yet.”

“Not going...?” She studied the buildings and parking lots they passed, trying to decide where he was going. Not the Colton estate where he lived with his large, extended family. “Reid, take me home. I don’t have time for this.” She angled her body toward his on the front seat and balled her hands in her lap, itching to slug him in the shoulder. “I have to pick up Nicholas from the church soon.”

“I’ll take you to the church for Nicholas if we run late.”

“Reid!” She tightened her fists, her frustration and dismay over the events of the day building inside her. If she did haul off and slug Reid Colton in the arm, who could blame her? Taking a calming breath, she said instead, “You don’t have a car seat for Nicholas, and I will not let my baby ride anywhere unrestrained.”

“Point taken. Just...give me a little leeway, a few minutes. Okay?” The look he sent her said he knew how hard that would be for her in light of Andrew’s death.

Her answering stare voiced her skepticism, impatience and irritation. But she swallowed a verbal reply. She didn’t trust her voice not to crack or sound harpy-shrill. She was wound too tight, had too many emotions churning inside her.

Her father’s duplicity. Andrew’s death. And her complicated feelings toward Reid. Anger and hurt and...attraction. Her stomach jumped and swooped crazily with the private admission. Admitting her continued physical interest in Reid was a big step. She had successfully quashed those feelings while she’d been married to Andrew. Had put them aside all those times her late husband’s partner had been in her home, sat at her dinner table and given her friendly hugs or shoulder squeezes. Shaking herself from her unsettling thoughts about Reid, she noticed a familiar sight out the window and sat straighter in the seat. “The park? Your urgent errand is the local playground?”

“You don’t like the park?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “I thought I remembered this place was one of your favorite places to unwind and blow off steam, even before Nicholas was born.”

Amazingly, her nerves seem to calm just seeing the tranquil pond and grassy fields of her favorite park. “I love this place. But I’m hardly in the mood to play on the swings or feed the ducks.”

He parked his truck near a boat ramp at the edge of the sparkling lake and cut the engine. “We’re not here to feed the ducks. I just couldn’t waste the opportunity of having you as a captive audience. We need to set the record straight.”

* * *

Reid saw Penelope stiffen, her jaw grow tight, and he raised a hand forestalling her arguments. “Before you say anything, I know I’m the last person you want to talk to and this is the topic you most want to avoid, but you need to know the truth. You need to know what really happened the day Andrew died and not the innuendo and half truths the media chose to disclose.”

“I’ve based my opinion of what happened on the police report and trusted witnesses within the department, not the news reports. Give me some credit!” she snapped, her eyes blazing.

“I’ll give you credit if you’ll do the same for me. Give me credit for being his friend, for being your friend.” She huffed her disagreement, but he didn’t let her dissuade him from his purpose. “Give me the benefit of just a moment’s doubt based on what you know about me. Based on the man you know I am. I’m not a murderer, Pen!”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he plowed on, cutting her off. “I loved Andrew like a brother. He was my partner, and that means something. We had each other’s backs. Because of the volatile situations we faced regularly together, we had a level of respect and trust most people can’t understand.”

He paused for a breath, and she only glared at him, arms crossed over her chest. Closed off. Resentful. Hurting. As much as he regretted losing his partner, he hated most the pain Pen had suffered since Andrew’s death. The circumstances of Andrew’s death made the loss all the more difficult for her. The questions and loose ends. The doubts and anger. He would do his part to put an end to all of that today.

He turned his attention to their surroundings, taking in the skeletal hardwoods and empty park benches. The rusted swings that swayed in the cold wind. A lone woman, bundled in a scarf and knit hat, walked her pug on the pathway near the lake. Otherwise the park was deserted. His law-enforcement training put him in the habit of paying attention to such details, be it a restaurant, a park or neighborhood street. Even after all these months off the force, he still kept a keen eye on his environment.

He drew a slow breath. “I know you’ve heard from others in the police department that Andrew and I argued that morning.”

Pen arched an eyebrow, her expression beyond peeved. “They said you nearly came to blows. That you made awful, ungrounded accusations against Andrew that could have ruined his career. Hell, ruined his reputation and his life!”

“We did argue,” he said, curling his hand around the steering wheel and battling down the sickness in his gut the memory stirred. “But we weren’t on the verge of a brawl. Our discussion got heated, got loud. He slammed a mug on the counter too hard, and it broke. But we weren’t about to throw punches. That was just bystanders projecting their interpretations on a discussion they didn’t understand.”

“Isn’t that a moot point now?” She grunted her disgust as she turned her gaze out the side window. “You’re splitting hairs over irrelevant details.”

“It’s not irrelevant, seeing as that argument was used as evidence to try to establish a motive for me to kill him. It was grossly mischaracterized and misinterpreted. And the fact of the matter is, I confronted him because I did have evidence he’d taken drugs from the evidence room. I wanted him to explain what I’d learned, if he could. Instead of clearing up any misunderstanding, he blew up at me.”

Her lips tightened, and if he hadn’t seen her nostrils flare slightly, the bridge of her nose crinkle in distress, he’d have believed he’d angered her further with his explanation. But those telltale details told him the battle she was having with her emotions. He’d known this conversation would upset her, but he wanted to make it as easy for her as possible.

He touched her arm and whispered, “Pen, I don’t want to upset you, but if you’d—”

She shook off his hand and glared. “Oh, really? You actually thought we could have this conversation without upsetting me?” She scoffed. “Take me home, Reid. Now.”

“Give me just a minute to—”

“Fine.” She turned to the passenger door and shouldered it open. “I’ll walk.”

Reid sighed. “Pen, wait.” When she didn’t stop, he popped open his door and trotted after her, jockeying to block her path. “I swear to you on Andrew’s grave, I didn’t know there was anything in that syringe besides insulin. I was trying to save his life, not hurt him!”

Hands clenched at her sides, she stopped and lifted her chin. “So you’ve said.”

“So why can’t you believe me?”

Tears sparkled in her hazel eyes, and Reid’s heart broke for her obvious pain. “Because! I just...”

When she didn’t finish her sentence, he filled the silence with the details she needed to know. “He passed out while we were interviewing a witness in the Holmes case. Just...fainted. I was able to revive him, and he started throwing up, said he had blurred vision. He told me to get his emergency diabetes kit that he kept in the cooler in the back of our cruiser, and I did. Then I called 911, even though he said it wasn’t necessary. He kept saying he’d be fine once he had some insulin. After I tested his blood sugar, found it way high, I gave him a shot using the vial of insulin in his kit. I had no reason to think it had been tampered with. Who the hell thinks their friend’s emergency insulin has been replaced with potassium chloride?”

Her shoulders drew back, and her eyes narrowed. “Maybe a better question is who the hell replaced his insulin with potassium?”

Reid spread his hands. “I agree! A very good question. One that has gone unanswered because of the witch hunt to blame me. But I didn’t do it, which means the person who did is still out there. Doesn’t that bother you? Because it sure as hell has kept me awake nights this past year and a half.”

Pen flinched and gaped at him as if truly startled by what he was saying. “I didn’t... I mean I thought...”

“You thought I’d gotten away with murder?” he huffed and shook his head. “But I’m telling you, I swear to you, it wasn’t me. Which means whoever did switch out the insulin did get away with murder.”

Her brow furrowed, and she plowed her hands through her hair. “Reid, I...I don’t know. How can I trust what you’re saying?” She cocked her head as if struck with an inspiration. “How do I know you’re not saying this to protect yourself and throw me off track?”

He barked an incredulous laugh. “Pen! The police have said there wasn’t enough evidence to arrest me for murder—or even manslaughter. Because of that argument, and only because we argued that morning, the cops still suspect me, but—”

“Officer Jamison said you threatened to kill Andrew. That you said, ‘I will kill you for this!’”

“And Franny Hill, the receptionist, backed me up that what I really said was, ‘Would it kill you to look into this?’”

This tidbit seemed to surprise her, as if she’d not heard about the receptionist’s testimony. Figured. The people mounting the campaign against him wouldn’t have shared that with her.

“The simple truth is, they had no way to prove I knew the insulin was tainted, that I had anything but pure motives to save Andrew when I gave him the injection and no reason to think I’d put the potassium chloride in the vial. So why the hell would I encourage you to have the case investigated further, if I were guilty?”

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