The Coltons of Red Ridge

“I know, baby, but you need to stay awake.”

“Okay,” she said agreeably. But her eyes remained closed.

Where’s the ambulance? he thought desperately. The sooner Bea got to the hospital, the better.

Brayden returned at that moment, Chunk by his side. The dog trotted over to Micah and nosed the pouch on his belt, clearly ready for another reward. “Well?” Micah asked as he gave Chunk a treat. He glanced at the pair and then returned his gaze to Bea. Stay awake, he silently pleaded with her.

Brayden crouched down and ran a hand through his hair. “The front door was open. Probably how her assailant got away.”

Micah nodded. “And what else? What did Chunk find?”

His friend blew out a breath and a flash of misery passed across his features. “There’s a body in one of the fitting rooms. Looks like another victim of the Groom Killer.”

* * *

Her head felt like it was going to split open.

Bea winced against the bright lights of the hospital room and tried to shield her face from the glare. But it was no use. Even with her eyes closed, she felt like she was being stabbed directly in the brain with a needle.

Suddenly, the room went dark. “Is that better?”

She turned to the sound of the deep voice she recognized even after all these years apart. Micah.

“Much. Thank you.”

She cautiously opened her eyes to see the room was now in shadows. He’d flipped off the overhead lights and turned on the small bulb mounted under the wall cabinet. Her doctors probably wouldn’t appreciate working in the gloom, but it helped downgrade her headache from excruciating to manageable, and for that she was grateful.

Micah settled into a chair by her bed. “You stayed,” she said, a little surprised to still see him.

He met her eyes, his green gaze steady. “I promised I would.”

“Yes, but...” She trailed off. They had made promises to each other before, promises that hadn’t been kept.

Bea took a moment to study his face. It was still familiar, of course. But he’d changed in the years they’d been apart. Micah had always had a boyish glint in his eyes, a gleam of humor that persisted no matter how serious the situation. She was sad to see it was gone now, and wondered if it was hidden, or if his experiences in the war had permanently changed his personality. There were subtle lines around his mouth and eyes, a testament to the fact that he still smiled, at least. His skin was a warm gold, the product of time spent in the sun, no doubt. And he still had the same build, although he was a bit leaner, a bit harder now than when she’d known him in high school.

“You look good,” she said quietly. There were so many things she wanted to say, and the questions piled up in her throat. Why didn’t you contact me after you left for basic training? Why didn’t you respond to my letters and calls? Did you ever really love me? But she swallowed the impulse to interrogate him. Did it really matter after all this time? It wasn’t as if they could pick up where they’d left off. They had both been eighteen and supposedly in love. So much had happened since then, they were like two different people now. Two strangers, meeting for the first time.

A grin flashed across his face, there and gone in the space of a second. “I wish I could say the same for you,” he said, his gaze darting meaningfully to the bandage on her head. His eyes softened. “This wasn’t how I pictured meeting you again.”

So he’d thought about her, after all? His words gave her a little thrill, but she quickly crushed the feeling. It was only natural she’d cross his mind. Red Ridge wasn’t a huge city, and he’d probably figured it was only a matter of time until they ran into each other. She’d known he moved back to town after retiring from the military. But Bea had assumed she’d have time to mentally and emotionally prepare herself for seeing him again. Being confronted with his presence now brought up all kinds of emotions and feelings she had thought she’d conquered long ago. The experience was almost as unsettling as being attacked in her boutique.

A sudden commotion sounded from the hall, and she thought she heard the muffled boom of her father’s voice. “Oh, no,” she muttered.

Micah rose and headed toward the door. “I’ll take care of it,” he said confidently. “You just rest.”

He was gone before she had a chance to thank him, leaving her alone in the dim room. She leaned her head back against the stiff pillow with a sigh, not knowing whether to be grateful or concerned that Micah had headed out to deal with her father. Fenwick Colton was hard-headed and stubborn and used to getting his way. And he and Micah had always been like oil and water, the two of them never seeing eye to eye. If her father was upset now, and it certainly sounded like he was, seeing Micah would likely send him over the edge.

But Bea was too tired to care right now. Micah wasn’t the same boy she’d dated in high school, and it wouldn’t take long for her father to realize that. Maybe Fenwick would view Micah as an adult now, and treat him accordingly instead of talking down to him like he always had.

“And maybe I’ll sprout wings and fly out of here,” she snorted. The chances of Micah and her father turning over a new leaf were next to impossible, but a girl could dream.

But...did it really matter? After all, she and Micah weren’t exactly going to pick things up where they’d left off. She couldn’t deny the idea was appealing. Part of her had never stopped loving Micah, and she wasn’t going to lie to herself and pretend otherwise. That didn’t mean he felt the same way about her, and even if he did, she wasn’t sure she could forgive him for abandoning her all those years ago.

She shifted on the bed, the memories coming fast and furious now. Their last night together before Micah had left for basic training... They’d held each other all night, planning their future, picturing the life they would build together.

It’ll be over before you know it, he’d whispered into her hair. And once I’m done with basic training, I’ll come back and we’ll get married. I can’t wait to see you wear my ring.

She’d pressed her ear to his chest, loving the sound of his heartbeat in her ear. I’ll write to you every day, she’d promised. And I’ll start planning the wedding.

He’d left early the next morning, and she’d spent the rest of the week trying not to cry. True to her word, she’d written to him every day, sealing each letter with a kiss. She’d known he’d be too busy to write back, so it was an exciting surprise to find a letter from him about ten weeks after he left.

She’d raced up the stairs to her room, her heart pounding a mile a minute. Micah must be writing to tell her about when he was coming home, and to ask about the wedding plans. She’d been working hard to plan the ceremony—she wanted to keep things simple, which was almost unheard of her in family. But her father had made it clear he didn’t approve of her relationship with Micah, and she wasn’t about to ask him to pay for anything.

She’d flung herself onto the bed and carefully peeled open the envelope, withdrawing the letter. She’d felt a slight pang as she saw it wasn’t very long—after so long apart, she wanted to know every detail of what he’d been up to—but she’d reminded herself he didn’t have a lot of free time, and his sleep was more important that the length of his letters. She sank back onto a pillow, intending to savor every word. But as she started to read, her elation had quickly turned to confusion.

Dear Bea,

I’m sorry to end things like this, but I don’t think we should be together anymore. Being away from you has made me realize we want different things, and I’ve come to realize that I can’t be both a soldier and a husband. I don’t need a wife tying me down and holding me back. I know this comes as a surprise, but I’m sure you’ll find someone else.

Micah

Even after all these years, she could close her eyes and see the letter clear as day. The image was burned into her brain, each word chipping away at her heart until she felt like there was nothing left.

At first, she’d gone numb. After a few days, the pain had hit, followed quickly by anger. She’d written him back, demanding an explanation, needing to know why he’d changed his mind. She’d even tried calling, but that hadn’t worked. Eventually, she’d worked her way into acceptance and decided to move on with her life.

That didn’t stop her from checking the news on a daily basis, her worry spiking every time she heard about an American death. She scoured the internet, searching for the identities of fallen soldiers, breathing a little sigh of relief each time she realized Micah’s name was not among the list of heroes.

She had tried to find love again, but it just never seemed to be in the cards. She’d dated a few men who were perfectly nice, but they never made her heart race and her skin tingle the way Micah had. Just being around him had been enough to make every nerve ending in her body stand up and pay attention. He had made her feel alive, made the world seem ripe with potential, as if anything and everything could happen at any moment.

It was so different from life in her father’s house, where everything was carefully planned and executed, leaving no room for chance. Routine and structure were the guiding principles of her childhood, and she’d long ago realized she wanted—no, needed—more freedom. The men she’d dated since Micah had been safe, and had met with her father’s approval. But marrying one of them would have guaranteed her future would echo her past, and she just couldn’t bring herself to sign up for more of the same. Much to her father’s chagrin, Bea had decided being single was preferable to a life spent yearning for more.

It hadn’t been a difficult decision, and she hadn’t had any doubts about her choice. Until now.

Could I be any more pathetic? She’d spent less than an hour in Micah’s presence, and with a splitting headache to boot, and she was already questioning her hard-earned happiness. Logically, she knew she’d built a good life for herself and that she didn’t need a man to find fulfillment or completion. I’m doing just fine on my own, she thought stubbornly.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the persistent whisper of her heart.

He’s the one.

Chapter 3

“I want to see my daughter. Right now.” Fenwick Colton’s voice rose in volume with every word until he was practically shouting in Micah’s face. Micah took a deep breath and mentally counted to five. He’d never had the best relationship with Mr. Colton—the man had made it very clear he didn’t approve of Micah dating Bea while they were in high school, and it seemed that time had not softened the sharper edges of the older man’s temper.

“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible at the moment,” Micah said calmly. No matter how much he disliked Fenwick, he wasn’t going to lose his control. If Micah showed any kind of emotion or anger, Fenwick would undoubtedly use it against him.

The man stepped forward, infringing on Micah’s personal space. “I know who you are,” he hissed, staring up at Micah with obvious hatred in his eyes. “You’re that skinny kid who tried to trap my Bea into marriage when she was just eighteen. Didn’t you figure out she doesn’t want you?”

The barb hit home, but Micah had expected a personal attack from Fenwick. He stared down at the man, his poker face in place. At this angle, Fenwick’s blond toupee looked even more fake, and Micah realized that for all of Fenwick’s bluster, he was likely very insecure.

“Is there a problem here?”

Both Micah and Fenwick turned at the sound of the voice, and Micah felt a jolt of relief as he caught sight of Finn Colton, the K-9 unit chief, approaching.

“No problem,” Micah said smoothly. “I was just about to explain to Mister Colton the fact that Bea is a material witness in a murder case, and I don’t want her speaking to anyone outside of her medical team until I’ve had a chance to interview her.”

“You can’t keep me from my daughter!” Fenwick shouted, his face growing red with anger.

Finn turned to his uncle.

“Actually, he can. Bea is an adult, and therefore you do not have a right to have access to her until the officer in charge of the investigation has completed his questioning.”

Fenwick’s expression grew murderous. “You’re saying he’s in charge of the investigation?” He jerked a thumb at Micah, evidently unwilling to even look at him anymore.

“That’s correct,” Finn confirmed. “As the officer who discovered both Bea and the victim in her shop, Micah is the man on point.”

“But...but...” Fenwick sputtered. Then a sly look entered his eyes, and he shot Micah a satisfied glare before turning his attention back to Finn. “It’s inappropriate for Officer Shaw to lead this investigation.” He practically spat the word, making it clear just what he thought about Micah’s job title. “He and my daughter have a history of personal involvement. I doubt he can be impartial about his job since Bea rejected him.” He smiled triumphantly, clearly proud of himself.

Micah opened his mouth to explain that he hadn’t seen Bea in years, but he needn’t have bothered.

“That was ages ago,” Finn said in a tone of long-suffering patience. “I have no doubts about Officer Shaw’s capabilities, and I know he will conduct both himself and this investigation with the utmost professionalism.”

Fenwick’s smile slid off his face and his mouth turned down, giving him the look of a man who had just sucked on a lemon. “I see,” he said, practically choking on the words. “Your superior officer will hear about this.”

Finn nodded, as if he’d expected this reaction. “Let me know if you have trouble contacting him.”

Fenwick walked to the far corner of the waiting room, his body stiff with anger. He was not used to being refused, and Micah could see that the older man did not handle disappointment very well.

“Thank you,” Micah said in a low voice.

Finn nodded. “Anytime.” He watched his uncle for a moment, then turned back to Micah. “Talk to me about what you found. Brayden wasn’t too forthcoming about the details.”

Micah related his actions in the alley and Chunk’s discovery of Bea. “I called for backup, and once Brayden arrived he and Chunk went through the rest of the shop, searching for any signs of the intruder who had attacked Bea.”

“So, Brayden made the initial discovery of the body in the fitting room?”

Micah nodded. “Yes. I went to the scene after the paramedics had arrived and were taking care of Bea.”

“What did you find?”

“At first glance, another victim of the Groom Killer.” Micah ran a hand through his hair. “Looked to me like Joey McBurn. He was slumped in a fitting room chair, and he appeared to have been shot through the heart. There was a black cummerbund stuffed into his mouth like the other two victims.”

Finn digested this bit of information. “Any signs of tampering?” he asked delicately.

Micah frowned. “Not to my eye.” Was the chief suggesting Brayden had altered the scene to throw suspicion off his sister, Demi? Micah supposed it was a possibility, but it hardly seemed likely. Everyone on the force knew Brayden Colton was upset at the thought of Demi as a killer, but he was still a good cop and an honorable man. Besides, any such tampering would be clearly evident once the forensics report came back, and Brayden knew that as well as the rest of the team.

But there was one other piece of information that made Micah confident his friend hadn’t done anything stupid. “Brayden and Chunk weren’t gone very long,” he said. “And after they discovered the body, Brayden didn’t return to the fitting room alone.”

Finn nodded, apparently satisfied by this news. “That’s good to know,” he said. “It’s important the investigation is above reproach.”

“We’re not going to drop the ball on this one,” Micah said confidently.

“I know you won’t,” Finn replied. He angled his head in the direction of Bea’s hospital room. “So, do you think she saw anything?”

“I’m not sure,” Micah admitted. “It’s possible the killer knocked her out before shooting Joey. Or maybe Bea heard the gunshot and went to explore, and that’s when the killer attacked.”

Finn frowned. “If that’s the case, why is she still alive? Surely the perp wouldn’t be so careless as to leave behind an eyewitness?”

“Maybe there wasn’t time to kill her,” Micah suggested. “It’s possible the killer intended to finish her off, but got spooked and ran.” Or maybe, he thought privately, Demi couldn’t stomach the thought of shooting her cousin.

A cold chill skittered through his body at the thought of Bea lying unconscious on the ground, at the mercy of a murderer towering over her helpless body. Whatever the reason, Micah was glad Bea’s life had been spared.

The elevator at the end of the hall let out a faint ding, and the doors opened to reveal Brayden along with Carson Gage, a fellow K-9 officer, and Shane Colton, a PI who worked with the department. The three men wore serious expressions, and Micah’s interest spiked. What was going on?

Carson spoke first. “We’ve got news.”

“Your initial witness, Tucker Frane, who claimed to see Demi Colton shoot someone in the alley?” said Shane. Micah nodded, and he continued. “Dead in his home.”

“What?” That was too coincidental for Micah’s taste.

Carson nodded. “Yep. We went to his house to ask him a few more questions about what he’d seen. He didn’t answer, but the door was ajar so we entered. Man was shot dead in his recliner.”

“No witnesses, I suppose?” Micah asked.

Shane shook his head. “Neighbors didn’t see or hear anything.”

“Of course not,” Micah muttered. They rarely did.

“We put a rush on ballistics,” Carson said. “We need to see if the same gun killed the witness and the man in the fitting room.” He cast a subtle glance at Brayden.

“My sister didn’t do this,” Brayden said quietly. “I know she didn’t.”

“All we can go on is evidence,” Finn said. “Her name written in blood by the body of the first victim. Her necklace found at the scene. She was spotted running in the shadows at the time of death. Now, we have a witness—a dead witness—who says he saw her shoot a man in the alley near Bea’s shop.”

“Two bodies in one night is strange,” Carson put in.

“Two bodies?” The men turned as a group to find Fenwick Colton lurking on the edge of the circle, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Someone else was killed tonight?”

Micah clenched his jaw. He’d been so focused on listening to the other men he hadn’t noticed Fenwick come back. Now the businessman was privy to information he shouldn’t have, and Fenwick didn’t know the meaning of the word discretion.

“Sir,” he began, trying not to choke on the word.

Fenwick ignored him. “Why haven’t you arrested Demi yet?” he demanded. “It’s been clear from the start she’s the Groom Killer, and now she’s gone and murdered someone else. When are you people going to do your jobs?”

Brayden sucked in a breath, and Micah glanced over to see that his friend was on the verge of an explosion. Brayden’s face had turned dark red, and his body was tense with anger. Micah put a restraining hand on Brayden’s forearm, hoping he wouldn’t lose his temper. If he lashed out at his uncle, Fenwick was just spiteful enough to take the matter up the chain of command and Brayden could very well lose his job.

Finn appeared to recognize the gravity of the situation as well, and he moved forward, forcing Fenwick back a step and blocking Brayden’s view of their uncle. “Mister Colton,” he said sharply. “You are interfering in official police business. Unless you want to be brought up on charges, I suggest you walk away and keep your opinions on this matter to yourself.”

Fenwick blinked at his nephew’s tone. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said. But there was a flicker of fear in his eyes that belied his apparent confidence.

Finn leaned in close. “Try me,” he said softly.

Micah bit back a grin as Fenwick paled. He shot a hateful glare at Micah before retreating a few steps, turning his focus to the TV mounted in the far corner of the waiting room.

The elevator at the end of the hall dinged again, and Bea’s sisters Layla, Gemma and Patience walked out. Patience, the veterinarian at the K-9 training center, gave him a nod as the group walked over to their father, and Micah relaxed a bit. Bea’s siblings should be able to handle Fenwick, at least for the time being.

“Nice job, chief,” Micah muttered.

Finn sighed. “I’m sure I’ll pay for that later.”

Micah noticed a doctor enter Bea’s room and wondered if everything was okay. Had her injuries been more severe than they appeared? The gash on her forehead was deep and jagged, but Micah was more worried about a concussion or brain injury. She’d seemed to have no trouble speaking to him earlier, but he knew her head had been hurting. Hopefully that wasn’t a sign of more serious damage.

He was so distracted he didn’t realize Finn was speaking to him until the man touched his shoulder. “Still with us?”

Micah shook his head. “Yes. Sorry. Uh, what were you saying?”

Finn lifted one eyebrow but didn’t otherwise comment. “Ballistics probably won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, I want you to assume these two bodies are linked. I want you and Carson and Shane to coordinate your investigations until we know more.”

“Yes, sir.” Micah nodded. The door to Bea’s room opened, and the doctor walked out. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, already walking toward the man in the white coat.

“Doctor?” The man turned. Micah showed him his badge. “I’m the officer who came in with Beatrix Colton. How is she?”

“She’s got a mild concussion, but she should make a full recovery. I’m going to write up her discharge paperwork.”

“Can I question her now?”

“I see no reason why not. But she might not be in the mood to talk. She’s got a pretty severe headache.”

Micah frowned, unhappy at the idea of Bea in pain. “Can you give her something for it?”

The doctor nodded. “Already ordered. It won’t affect her cognitive abilities, so she should be able to answer questions if it’s necessary.”

“It is,” Micah replied. The sooner he discovered what Bea had seen, the better his chances of catching whoever had attacked her. They’d been looking for a break in the Groom Killer investigation, and Bea might have just the information they needed to crack the case wide open.

Micah thanked the doctor and took a deep breath. He felt a fluttering sensation in his stomach, and he realized with a small shock that he was nervous. Stop being ridiculous, he told himself. He’d done well over a hundred interviews with witness and suspects alike since joining the Red Ridge police department. In all that time, he’d never once felt uncertain or worried before starting the process. Why was he acting like a rookie on his first day now?

Because it’s Bea. The answer came immediately to his mind, and much as he wanted to deny it, he knew it was the truth. Bea Colton had always been his weakness, and even though years had passed since he’d seen her, his body still reacted the same way it always had to her presence.

Her father’s words echoed in his mind. Didn’t you figure out she doesn’t want you?

“Oh, yes,” he muttered. “She made that very clear.”

Even now, the memory of her letter was enough to make his heart ache and his eyes sting. He’d looked for her letters at every mail call, but she’d never written. He’d told himself she was busy making their wedding plans and packing her things to join him after he returned. There was a lot to arrange while he was gone, and he felt guilty leaving her to do the lion’s share of the work. But she had probably employed her grandmother’s help, drawing on the older woman’s expertise to plan a sweet, simple ceremony.

He’d been allowed one phone call after arriving at boot camp, but Bea hadn’t been home. Normally, the lack of contact with her would have driven him crazy, but they kept him so busy he fell exhausted into his bed every night, too tired to do more than imagine her face before he drifted off to sleep.