A Colby Christmas

Brad had to be looking up her skirt.

Heat singed Elaine’s cheeks. Her legs were apart and the skirt was hiked up to the tops of her thighs at this point. If he wasn’t looking it would only be because he’d closed his eyes. Despite her best efforts to focus on pulling up into the cavernous area above the ceiling, she had to look down. Incredibly, his eyes were closed. She hauled herself up onto the beam and looked around. Lots of wires. Acres of steel beams. She watched him grab hold of a beam and pull himself up as if he’d been climbing mountains his whole life.

“What now?” she asked. But he just slipped the tile back into its slot on the grid system that supported the dropped ceiling.

“Should we—” Brad held up a hand, silencing her. Even in the near darkness she saw him tense. And then she heard it. Below, the bathroom door had opened….

A Colby Christmas

Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams, and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners and working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998 her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345 or visit her Web site at www.debrawebb.com to find out exciting news about her next book.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Brad Gibson—He has been offered a position at the Colby Agency, but he may not be able to stay out of jail, or alive, long enough to accept.

Elaine Younger—The Colby Agency receptionist. It takes a near-death experience to propel Elaine into the land of the living. Can she trust Brad Gibson to help her stay that way?

Victoria Colby-Camp—The head of the Colby Agency.

Ian Michaels—Victoria’s second in command and a man who knows how to spot trouble well in advance.

Lucas Camp—Victoria’s husband. Will he make it home for Christmas?

Jim Colby—Victoria’s son. He has a life-altering revelation for his mother.

Tasha Colby—Jim’s wife. She is about to give birth to the first Colby grandchild.

Joseph Reynard—Building security.

Welton Investments—Brad Gibson’s former employer.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

December 23, 4:30 p.m.

Inside the Colby Agency

Christmas.

How could Christmas be here already? Day after tomorrow. The year had flown by.

Victoria Colby-Camp smiled as she watched the snow float down past the floor-to-ceiling window behind her desk. She loved the snow—loved this city. The flurry of pedestrians rushing to and fro on the street below made her tingle with excitement. Such vibrancy, such diversity, all rolled into one fabulous town.

Her smile stretched into a grin. And any day now she was going to be grandmother. A grandmother! Imagine it. For so many years her son had been lost to her. Just having him home again had been such a blessing. That he’d found a woman who loved him despite his horrific past was simply icing on the cake. But to be blessed with a grandchild, too, Victoria just didn’t know how she could possibly be more fortunate. She had worried after last year’s failed pregnancy. Thank heavens there had been no problems with this one. Her son deserved every moment of happiness that came his way.

The glittering lights draping every office and shop window twinkled especially bright this evening. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and Victoria couldn’t wait to share this special holiday with her family. She had very special presents wrapped and waiting to tuck beneath the tree for Lucas, Jim, Tasha and the coming grandchild. Watching their faces as they opened those gifts and anticipating their surprise had her giddy already and there were still twenty-four hours to go.

She glanced at her wristwatch, the tiny diamonds embellishing the face winking at her like the Christmas lights outside. Lucas had given her this watch for her birthday. She put it on every morning and cherished the feel of it against her skin. Her husband wouldn’t be home until late this evening. She hoped there were no significant delays with inbound flights with this winter storm surrounding the city. She couldn’t bear the idea of spending the holiday without him. The very idea sent an ache through her soul. That he’d had to rush off to Washington so close to the baby’s arrival date had worried her, but Lucas had commitments to his work just as she did. She certainly couldn’t deny him his work, even if she would prefer to have him all to herself every minute of every day.

Clearly she had grown quite selfish as she moved farther past the mid-century mark.

“Victoria, could I have a moment of your time?”

She turned around to face her personal assistant, Mildred Parker-Ballard, who waited just inside her office door. “Certainly, Mildred. Is everything on schedule for tomorrow?”

Mildred looked even lovelier than usual this morning. She wore her hair in a smartly coiffed pageboy style that flattered her oval face, and Victoria was certain she’d lost a few more pounds. Perhaps it was the recent workouts at the gym she and her new husband had joined. Or maybe it was nothing more than wedded bliss. Mildred and Dr. Austin Ballard had finally gotten married last month, in the very same church where a Ballard grandchild had been christened only weeks before.

Victoria had already ordered a very special christening gown for her first grandchild. She and Mildred had pored over magazines and catalogs for weeks before finding the ones they’d wanted in a local shop, where the gowns were handmade, one-of-a-kind creations.

Nothing was too good for the next Colby generation.

“Unless this storm takes a turn for the worst,” Mildred assured, “all will go as planned for tomorrow’s Christmas party.”

Victoria clasped her hands in front of her. “Excellent.” Anticipation welled in her chest. “Think, Mildred, how long it has been since we’ve had Trevor Sloan and Nick Foster here. I can’t believe they were all willing to work their holiday schedules around the agency’s Christmas party.”

With her eyebrows arched high, Mildred peered at Victoria over her glasses. “Don’t go jinxing things, Victoria. We still need the full cooperation of those big silver birds.”

Mildred was right about that. Cancelled and delayed flights were par for the course around the holidays in Chicago. Thankfully most were traveling this evening or very early in the morning. Even Angel Parker-Danes and her enigmatic husband Cole were coming. Jack and Katherine Raine. And so many others. Victoria’s pulse skipped with the mounting excitement. This would be the very best Christmas ever.

“You’ve touched base with the caterers one last time?”

Mildred nodded. “And the entertainment folks. In fact, they’re coming in tonight after hours to set up their instruments and equipment in the big conference room. Elaine has kindly offered to stay and oversee their work.”

Elaine Younger, the agency’s receptionist. She was very good at her job. Very pleasant, very dependable. But untouchable in so many other ways. Despite having been with the agency for more than two years already, she hadn’t bonded with the rest of the staff as most new members did.

“I worry about that girl,” Victoria said, voicing her thoughts to her closest confidant outside her husband.

“She’s asked for tomorrow off again,” Mildred commented, a note of concern in her tone as well. “She does it every year. It’s as if she doesn’t care for Christmas in the least. She never volunteers to help put up the decorations, but she’s always more than happy to help take them down. I don’t understand it.”

Decorating the agency was a bit of an undertaking, Victoria wasn’t so sure she could blame Elaine or anyone else for avoiding that task. Mildred required perfection. Still, it did seem odd that Elaine had no desire to join in any of the holiday traditions. The rest of the staff had welcomed her warmly when she’d come on board.

There appeared to be no rhyme or reason for her distance. And it certainly wasn’t as if Elaine’s parents lived far away, requiring that she leave the city early on Christmas Eve in order to be home for the holiday. She clearly didn’t want to be a part of the agency’s celebration and that saddened Victoria.

“I’ll speak with her,” Victoria offered. “Perhaps I can persuade her to drop by for a few minutes anyway.”

Mildred lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

A rap on the door drew Victoria’s, as well as Mildred’s, attention there. Ian Michaels, Victoria’s second in command, waited for an invitation to enter. He looked elegant as always in his black suit. Black shirt, black tie. The man always wore black. It was his trademark. Tall, dark and incredibly handsome as the saying went. There was just one difference in Ian’s appearance today. He wore a little Rudolph pin on his lapel and the famous reindeer’s nose flashed like a beacon. Victoria was entirely certain that one of Ian’s children had insisted he wear it.

“Pardon me, ladies,” he said in that charismatic voice that kept all the female employees swooning, and Victoria and Mildred were no exceptions. “May I have a moment of your time, Victoria?”

“I’ll call Santa to make sure nothing’s come up that would prevent him from appearing on time tomorrow,” Mildred volunteered as she headed for the door. She smiled at Ian as she passed him. “If he’s looking for Rudolph, I’ll tell him to give you a call, Ian.”

Victoria put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh at Ian’s unamused expression. When Mildred had closed the door he strode straight up to Victoria’s desk, his countenance turning infinitely serious as he neared.

“We may have a problem with Gibson.”

“Please.” Victoria gestured to a chair. “Sit. Fill me in.” The last she’d heard all was a go with the selection of the newest member of staff. Bradley Gibson had completed the series of interviews required, each done on his lunch break since he worked such long hours with Welton Investments down on the second floor of this very building.

Victoria and Ian had gone out of their way to facilitate the young man’s schedule. Truth was, they wanted him that badly. Though he would be an investigator in training, Victoria had offered him a starting salary that he couldn’t easily ignore. The agency needed a man with his caliber of expertise in the area of high finance. So many of their clients were snared into scams within that complex world it made perfect sense to employ the very best in the field to work on those cases. Hence Bradley Gibson had been wooed away from Welton. Victoria wasn’t the least bit apologetic. The young man had admitted to being unhappy in his present position for some time. She would hate to lose him at this point.

“A friend from the local Bureau office called to warn me about an imminent announcement that could possibly affect us if the media discovers Gibson is connected to our agency. Apparently they’ve been watching him and are aware of his visits to our offices.”

Victoria let the frown tugging at her brow have its way. “What sort of announcement?” She’d been extremely impressed with Bradley Gibson. She couldn’t believe her instincts had failed her so completely. Only once in her entire career had she misjudged a new hire and even that one time had turned out for the better of all concerned. The idea that the FBI had been watching didn’t faze her. It was the new millennium; with terrorism at epidemic proportions, vigilance was essential.

“Apparently the FBI has had Welton Investments under surveillance for months now. My source wasn’t at liberty to disclose the suspected charges, but I can hazard a guess. Money laundering, perhaps embezzlement. In any event, it appears our Mr. Gibson may be one of the top players involved in this distasteful business. The warrants will be served late tomorrow afternoon, ironically at approximately the same time that our holiday party is scheduled. That’s as much information as he could give me and I doubt I would have gotten that much had he not owed me a tremendous debt.”

Victoria could see where he was going with this. “You think we should withdraw the invitation we made to Mr. Gibson that he join our holiday celebration? Let this play out without our involvement?”

Ian propped his elbows on the arms of the chair, steepled his fingers and considered his response a moment. “I believe we should do what’s best for the agency. If the media gets wind of this sting, they’ll be right behind the arresting agents. You know there’s always a leak to the press. The Bureau likes every move they make to be high profile.”

A former U.S. Marshal, Ian was married to a former FBI agent. But Victoria didn’t need Ian or his lovely wife Nicole to spell out how this would go down. She’d been in this business long enough to know it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Tell me, Ian.” She sat back in her chair and studied the one man she felt with absolute certainty could run the Colby Agency every bit as well as she. She trusted his judgment implicitly. “It’s not that I’m dismissing the Bureau’s assessments, but did you get any sense whatsoever that Mr. Gibson was anything other than what he presented in our interviews?”

Ian moved his head from side to side. “This feels exactly like a setup. Of course, there is always the risk that I’m wrong, but I believe Mr. Gibson may need us far more than we need him just now.”

“We can’t exactly warn him,” Victoria confessed, more for her own benefit than Ian’s. As much as she’d like to help Mr. Gibson with his coming woes, the agency fiercely protected its many sources. Without those sources they could never accomplish the results Colby Agency clients had come to expect. However, she felt obligated on some level to the young man.

“No, we can’t warn him.” The glint in Ian’s eyes told her he had a plan. “We can, however, bring him in early for one final test in an attempt to preempt tomorrow afternoon’s untimely episode.”

“You want to explore more deeply any problems he may be having with his current employer?” Ian couldn’t outright ask about any suspected wrongdoing but he could pose theoretical questions that might prompt certain responses.

Ian nodded. “And I’d like to invite O’Brien to sit in.”

Victoria nodded her understanding. “Outstanding idea.” The newest Colby Agency investigator on staff, besides the two new recruits they’d hired a few months ago, Patrick O’Brien was a former college professor. Not just any sort of college professor, he’d achieved his Ph.D. in psychology, which technically made him Dr. Patrick O’Brien. But he preferred not to be addressed that way. His absolute brilliance when it came to the human mind was uncanny. Victoria wasn’t sure Mr. Gibson would appreciate an on-the-sly analysis, but she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt where the accusations against him were concerned. This route would be discreet and, hopefully, helpful to all involved.

“Shall I see if Mr. Gibson is available during his lunch hour tomorrow?” Many of the offices were either closed or shut down early on Christmas Eve. Like the Colby Agency, Welton Investments was not one of those.

Ian stood. “I’ll make arrangements with O’Brien before I leave for the day.”

Almost five o’clock. “Very good. I’ll let you know if I can’t reach Mr. Gibson.”

Victoria entered the number as Ian left her office. When the receptionist two floors below completed her company spiel, Victoria said, “Brad Gibson, please.”

The moment’s hesitation that followed set Victoria on edge. Even before the woman’s response finally came, dread had started to well all too rapidly. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Gibson…” She cleared her throat but even that didn’t stop it from wobbling as she continued. “Mr. Gibson is no longer with this firm.”

Victoria thanked the woman and placed the handset in its cradle. She immediately buzzed Ian, but he was already back at her door.

“Gibson is missing,” he said as he moved into her office. “My source just called. Apparently Gibson didn’t show up for work this morning. An hour ago a neighbor reported that his apartment door was standing open. The apartment was ransacked. No clues as to what was taken, at this point. No body was found but there was a considerable amount of blood. Forensics is attempting to determine if the blood belongs to Gibson.”

Uneasiness added a few extra beats per minute to Victoria’s heart rate. This didn’t feel right. She’d spoken to this man on several occasions. Bradley Gibson was no bad guy and he certainly wasn’t a killer.

“Let’s put someone on this, Ian. The boys at the Bureau won’t like it, but I can’t let this go without seeing if there is any way we can help Mr. Gibson.” Dead or alive, she didn’t add.

“I’ll look into the case myself,” Ian offered.

“I would appreciate that. This doesn’t feel right.”

Victoria sat very still for a long moment after Ian had gone. It was almost Christmas….

She stood and moved back to her spacious window. The snow was falling harder now—big, lush flakes. Life was so fragile. All that one cherished could be lost in a mere instant.

She offered a quick, silent prayer for Bradley Gibson.

This would not be such a happy holiday for him.

Chapter Two

December 23, 7:45 p.m.

The sound of children laughing woke Elaine Younger from a dead sleep.

She sat straight up and pushed the hair out of her face.

The office…she was still at the office.

She could feel the imprint of her forearm marred into her forehead. She rubbed at it with the heel of her hand.

The sound she’d heard had come from the radio. Christmas music…“Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”

Disgust groaned out of her as she pushed up from her desk. She’d listened to that stuff all day long, every day for the past three weeks. Enough already.

She moved around her desk and headed for the lounge. The media control center was in the lounge supply room. Everyone else had already gone home except her. She could turn off the music now and no one would care.

It was nearly eight. Where the heck were those musicians? Hadn’t Mildred said they’d be here about seven? Just her luck that they’d be running late. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep at her desk.

Elaine flipped on the overhead light, crossed to the far side of the lounge and went into the supply room, where cases of soft drinks and other refreshments, as well as stacks of napkins and disposable cups, were stored. She opened the control panel door and entered the sequence to shut down the piped-in music.

The silence that followed was truly golden.

She nabbed herself a bag of chips and a bottle of water before turning off the lights and heading back to her desk. Maybe she’d call security and see if they’d heard anything. If the musicians weren’t coming until tomorrow morning there was no reason for her to hang around.

Maybe there’d been a miscommunication but she doubted it. Mildred never got things like that wrong.

Elaine had the day off tomorrow. She couldn’t wait to get home and plug in an action flick—anything to escape the holiday hoopla. Her folks would call at nine and they’d talk about whether to have hard rolls or soft with the ham. It wasn’t as if Christmas had ever been a big deal with her family. She didn’t get why the whole world had to go into such major pandemonium over this time of year.

Christmas should be private…without all the fuss.

She’d just popped a chip into her mouth when her line rang. Hurrying to her desk, she washed the chip down with a sip of water. If she were lucky that would be security letting her know the musicians had arrived. She placed the bag of chips and bottle of water onto her desk and grabbed the phone.

“The Colby Agency.”

“Yes, ma’am, this is Joseph in security. I’m at the front door and there are three gentlemen here who say they have to set up their instruments on your floor.”

“Thank you, Joseph. This is Elaine Younger and I’ve been expecting them. Please send them up.”

“They’re going to have to use the freight elevator, Miss Younger. Some of these cases are quite large.”

“That’s fine, Joseph. Whatever works best. I’ll meet them at the freight elevator.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Elaine dropped the receiver back onto its cradle and hurried around behind her desk to get the ring of keys, including the one for the freight elevator. She scratched around in the middle desk drawer. Didn’t see anything even remotely resembling keys. Where the heck had she put them? “There you are.” She grabbed the bracelet-style key ring, automatically slid it onto her wrist, and headed to the west end of the building.

The freight elevator was set up to allow stops on any floor in the building, but only an authorized employee on each floor could enter the necessary approval code for the elevator doors to open. A key was required to access the digital control pad.

The Colby Agency encompassed the entire fourth floor. The main elevators stopped in the lobby, directly in front of Elaine’s desk. From the lobby, a wide main corridor to the left of her desk led past the conference room, restrooms, the lounge and the offices of several of the highest ranking investigators. At the end of that main corridor was Victoria’s suite of offices, including the one belonging to Mildred, as well as the emergency exit to the stairwell. That was where the main corridor ended, but a slightly narrower hall took a right from there and moved around the perimeter of the building, coming to an end at the freight elevator. Along that long, L-shaped hall were several additional smaller offices, the massive research department, the files room and a larger main supply room.

The agency’s last remodeling had included extensive decorating changes, including new carpeting and lush furnishings, for every square foot. Even the files and supply rooms were aesthetically appealing.

Elaine didn’t rush. It would take a few minutes for the musicians to load up their goods and set the elevator in motion. Joseph had said that some of their cases were pretty large. She wondered about that. Wasn’t the entertainment for tomorrow’s party supposed to be a small three-or four-piece band?