The Missing Colton Read online

  He reached for her good arm, drew her toward him and he kissed her hard on the mouth. Then he stood back holding her at arm’s length. “Mia, I’ve been saving my whole damn career. I never went on vacation. I never took sick days. I just went to the next job, the next story, and I kept going around the world for years.” He looked deeply into her eyes.

  “We’re going to be good for a while, at least financially. A long while. We have everything we need right in there. We’re going to hit the road and find our place. And when we do, we’ll put down roots and build something. And there will always be stories to write, no matter where we end up.”

  “Jagger, I don’t think I’ve been happier, or more excited about something in my entire life.”

  “Come, let’s load up your stuff and get going while there’s still plenty of light. We’ll spend our first night on the road.”

  * * *

  They said their goodbyes to the household staff, then went out to the stables where they found Dylan alone in the office.

  Dylan seated himself on the on the edge of the desk, listening to Mia going on about their plans, his eyes intent on her.

  “I feel bad, leaving you here like this, Dylan,” she said, suddenly noticing the distance in his eyes.

  He offered her a wistful grin. “Hey, I’m happy for you guys. My time will come. Still squirreling the savings away.”

  Mia glanced at Jagger. “Dylan, we wanted to ask you something, about your mother.”

  His eyes shuttered and his features turned guarded. “Like what?”

  They told him about Faye Donner, the diner owner in Jackson who disappeared after Desiree’s death. Jagger showed him the photo of Donner he’d taken from the internet.

  Dylan took it and eyed it with suspicion.

  “It could be her, Dylan,” Mia said gently. “Faye Donner could be your mother. Yes, the hair color is different. And she’s slimmer, younger—but look at her features.”

  He shook his head and handed the photo back to them. “I don’t see it.”

  “Do you have any other photos of your mom when she was younger? Like from when you were born?”

  Dylan frowned, almost a little hostile now. “What are you guys getting at? My mother is not Faye Donner from Jackson. We didn’t come from Jackson.”

  “But you did arrive here when you were seven months old, after a baby had been seen with Desire Beale in Jackson.”

  “What? You’re saying you think I could be Cole Colton—stolen by Desiree? You’re nuts— That’s ludicrous!”

  “Do you have photos from before you came to the ranch? Any baby pictures of you younger than seven months?”

  “No,” he said, coolly. “My mother wasn’t sentimental in that way. I have hardly any baby pictures at all.” He paused. “Just a handful from when I was a teenager.”

  “You have the right coloring, Dylan,” Mia said quietly. “And you’re the right age.”

  “Look, you guys are just obsessed with this Cole Colton thing right now. I know my mother. I know my place in the world. I know where I come from.” He pushed off the desk. “I should get back to work.”

  Jagger held a piece of paper out to Dylan.

  “What’s that?”

  “Marnie Sayer’s number in Jackson. She bought the diner from Faye Donner, and when I asked her about it I got the sense she was hiding something. I think the answers are there somewhere. If you want to talk to her—”

  “I don’t want to talk to anyone in Jackson.” Dylan made for the office door.

  Jagger put the piece of paper on the desk and he and Mia followed Dylan out.

  A horse nickered in a stall nearby, and Mia gave a last look around the stables. She’d already said goodbye to Sunny.

  “Look after my Sunny,” she said, giving Dylan a hug.

  “You know I will. Take care, Mia. It was good having you around.”

  “You, too.”

  He and Jagger shook hands, evenly matched in build and height, and yes, coloring, thought Mia as she watched them—they could pass for brothers.

  Walking back to the house, Mia said to Jagger, “He looks like he could be a Colton, you know.”

  “He does.”

  “Even if it was possible that Faye took the baby from Desiree, why do you think she would come back here—what could there possibly be in it for her?”

  “Lord knows.” Jagger was quiet for a while as they approached the main entrance of the mansion. “In my experience, there are usually three reasons people do things, Mia. Fear. Love. And vengeance. Or a combination of the three.”

  Mia reached forward to open the great front door.

  As they entered the hall, Catherine was hanging up the phone on a table at the base of the staircase, her face white with shock.

  “What is it, Catherine?” Mia said, coming forward quickly.

  “That was the police. It...it’s Hank Drucker. His wife, Harriet, found him dead this morning. Hanged.”

  “Suicide?” Jagger asked.

  “He left a note saying it was all a big misunderstanding and that he was sorry.” Catherine ran a trembling hand over her hair. “But the police think it could be murder. They’re coming around later this afternoon to talk to the staff again.” Her eyes filled with emotion. “When is this all going to stop?”

  Mia and Jagger exchanged a glance. Drucker had taken his secrets with him to the grave, including the name of the woman he loved.

  * * *

  It was early evening by the time Jagger and Mia left the town of Riverton and began heading for Grand Teton National Park in their new gypsy mobile.

  As they drove Mia leaned back and sighed.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She angled her head and caught his eyes. “Happy sigh.”

  He grinned, and inside he felt light, free. And yes, happy. Just pure happy.

  “I wonder what Drucker meant when he said he did it for love— Who do you think she is?”

  “Maggie, maybe,” Jagger said. “Someone from his past. Who knows?”

  Mia leaned her head to the side, watching the scenery. “I’m glad we left it all behind.”

  He nodded.

  Dead River Ranch was still a dangerous place, still teeming with dark secrets, and Jagger had plans to keep her safe. Forever.

  As evening turned into a golden dusk and dry leaves blew in drifts across the road, Mia said, “My father used to say that all the other seasons existed solely to bring fall into being. It was his favorite time of year, when the salmon turned from the ocean to run upstream, their DNA wired to take them home, no matter how far they’d come down river or how far inland they had to go to return to that little mountain pool, or eddy or sandbank that spawned them.”

  Home. It was nebulous concept as much as it was a concrete one, Jagger thought as watched a sudden dervish of dust rising and swirling at the side of the road. A tumbleweed blew free of a fence. For a few minutes the ragged ball bounded down the road alongside them, and Jagger’s mind returned once more to that tumbleweed rolling past the Dead River Diner.

  The wind that had blown at his back as he made his way to Dead River Ranch that night was the same wind that blew at their backs now. He couldn’t say why, but it felt right, good.

  He sought her hand resting on the seat next to his and squeezed. “I love you, Mia.”

  She turned her palm up and laced her fingers softly through his. “It’s going to be a good adven
ture,” she said quietly. “I can feel it in my heart.”

  “Mrs. Jagger McKnight,” he whispered with a smile.

  “Wait until spring.”

  He grinned, and as the road curved away and up toward the mountains, the tumbleweed rolled off into a field, driven by the vagaries of wind.

  * * * * *

  Don’t miss the next romance in

  The Coltons of Wyoming:

  THE COLTON BRIDE by Carla Cassidy,

  available October 2013 from Harlequin Romantic Suspense!

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  Chapter 1

  Jaci Williams hadn’t always been a party girl, but after a night of body shots and now puking her guts out in the alley behind Ricochet, who would believe her?

  The truth was, sometimes a girl would do anything to blot out a memory—including killing multiple brain cells with tequila and lime.

  “Hold on, there, chica,” her best friend and partner in crime slurred as she tried to keep Jaci from falling into the muddy muck that reeked of bad decisions and too many free drinks from guys hoping to get lucky. “If you go face-first in that garbage, you’re on your own,” Sonia warned, trying to keep Jaci steady. “You done? Or do you need to go another round?”

  Jaci wiped her mouth and offered a sloppy grin. “I’m good. Where’s the cab? I’m ready to go to bed.”

  “Not down this creepy alley, that’s for sure,” Sonia managed to quip as they helped each other down the uneven pavement, stumbling a few times. “We should’ve left through the front door. They have cabs lined up, ready to go. But no, you wanted to go out the back door so no one saw you throw up. Jaci, I swear to God, if I get jumped or raped, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  Jaci smiled, feeling somewhat better, if not totally steady on her feet after unloading an excess of liquor onto the dirty ground. Ricochet was their favorite club and Fridays it was always hopping. Both Jaci and Sonia loved to dance and drink, two activities that Ricochet honored with plenty of loud music and even more alcohol.

  “Did you see that guy totally checking you out?” Sonia said as they walked arm in arm down the dark path. The lights from the street glittered in the pale moonlight as the nightlife dwindled to nothing in the early-morning hours. The Los Angeles heat was still oppressive, causing Jaci’s skin to prickle with sweat. She pushed her hair from her eyes and tried to remember who Sonia was talking about. She simply shrugged when she couldn’t recall.

  Sonia nudged her in the arm. “Come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t notice him. Tall, dark and a little dangerous-looking, actually,” Sonia said with a happy shiver. “The kind who’ll at least buy you dinner before having his way with you.”

  Jaci kept her thoughts to herself on that score. She’d known a man like that and while the sex had been incredible, he’d snapped her heart in two and left it a bloody mess without once looking back. Sonia exhaled, adding, “Well, I thought for sure he was going to buy you a drink but he left about an hour ago. Sorry, kid. He might’ve been The One.”

  Doubtful, Jaci thought, but smiled anyway. “Stop trying to find my Mr. Right,” she murmured on a hiccup. “There are no Mr. Rights, only Mr. Right Nows and Mr. You’ll Do For the Nights. Remember?”

  “Right,” Sonia said with mock seriousness. “Whatever you say.”

  They giggled, their laughter echoing in the still, closed-in heat, with Jaci’s thoughts happily soaked in tequila, drowning anything that resembled regret or sadness. This was the way to get over a broken heart, she thought giddily. Who needed therapy when you had good friends and even better liquor?

  They were nearly to the curb when a form stepped out from the shadow. Jaci and Sonia startled at the hulking man’s sudden appearance. The alcohol in Jaci’s stomach curdled with apprehension, something setting off her internal sensors to be wary. Sonia, however, suffered from no similar sense of caution and before Jaci could shoot her a warning look, Sonia reacted with irritation.

  “Hey, you’re blocking the way,” Sonia said, motioning for him to let them pass. When he didn’t budge, she yelled, “Hey, stupido, get out of the way. Are you deaf or something?”

  “Let’s just go around,” Jaci muttered, pulling on Sonia’s arm. “This feels weird.”

  “Weird is right,” Sonia agreed with a glower as she pulled her pepper spray free. “You see this? It’s called pepper spray and you’re about to get an eyeful if you don’t get the hell out of our way.”

  “Jaci Williams...” The man’s voice was rough and sounded as if he gargled with gravel. Then he grinned, and Jaci’s blood chilled. Who the hell was he? Why did he know her name? Nothing good could come of this little tableau in the making.

  Sonia sucked in a sharp gasp and her hand tightened around Jaci’s as he pulled a 9 mm gun with a silencer screwed onto the top. Oh, God. Adrenaline chased away the remnants of her intoxication and she struggled to breathe.

  “You can have our money, our credit cards, whatever you want. Just let us go,” Jaci pleaded, swallowing a bubble of fear burning her throat and tasting like tequila shooters. “Please...” Seconds later a tight popping sound ripped through the air and Sonia’s grip on Jaci’s hand loosened as she toppled to the filthy alley floor without a sound, a single bullet wound still sizzling around the torn flesh of her forehead. Her sightless eyes gazed up at the stars as blood dribbled from the wound, and it took a full second for Jaci to realize her best friend had just been shot and killed right beside her.

  Jaci opened her mouth to scream as the man switched his aim and pointed the gun directly at her own head. I’m going to die in this dirty alley. The cops would find two corpses in the morning, stiff and gray, and that would be the end of things. Tears welled in Jaci’s eyes right before she squeezed them shut. She didn’t want to see the bullet coming at her. She hoped it didn’t hurt too much...

  Her eyes snapped open when, instead of a bullet burying itself in her brain, she heard a grunt and the distinct sound of bodies hitting the ground. Two men—the man who’d shot Sonia and another man—grappled for the gun. The other stranger landed a clean uppercut, smashing the man’s jaw and shattering teeth as they clattered against each other. It was all he needed to gain the upper hand. With a quick and deadly motion, he pistol-whipped the man unconscious, and then wasted little time in splattering his brains all over the pavement.

  Jaci jumped, torn between her desire to run and her need to stay with Sonia’s body at least until the authorities arrived, but her savior didn’t give her the choice. “Come with me,” he ordered tersely and she could only stare.

  “Who are you?” she asked, scared out of her mind. “What’s going on? Did you know this man? Are you a cop? He just stood in our way and then he shot Sonia,” she babbled, her gaze dropping to her friend’s lifeless body. She cried out in shocked agony at the sheer senselessness of the crime and lowered herself to Sonia’s side, clinging to the only protocol that seemed appropriate for such a horrifying situation. “We have to call 911,” she said, crying openly. “We have to make a statement...we—”r />
  “There’s nothing we can do for your friend. We have to leave now,” he cut in, jerking her to her feet. “That man was hired to kill you. Your friend was collateral damage. They will send another as soon as they discover this one failed. We have to take cover. Now.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jaci asked, wiping at her tears and staring at the man shrouded in the shadows. “Who are you? And what people are trying to kill me? I’m no one. I swear it. This is a terrible mistake. I’ve never even had a parking ticket.”

  The man stepped out of the shadow and the street lamp revealed the angled, achingly familiar and devastatingly handsome face of the man who’d ruined her for all other men and had set her on the path of destruction without a care. “Jaci...come with me, now.”

  “Nathan?” The name slipped from her lips like the lyrics of a song she’d never forgotten, from shock at coming face-to-face with the man who’d broken her heart so callously two months ago. “What are you doing here?”

  “There’s no time to explain,” he answered brusquely, motioning her with a curt movement. “Let’s move.”

  New tears burned her eyes, but these weren’t tears of grief and horror. Those would come again later. The tears beginning to course down her cheeks were of pain and anger, hatred and humiliation. She’d rather die than accept a finger’s worth of help from him.

  “Screw you, Nathan.” She didn’t want him to save her. Anyone but him. “I’ll take my chances.”

  His mouth firmed in a tight line, plainly displeased with her answer. “Not an option,” he said, shocking her. Quick as a snake, he twisted her into his arms and plunged something sharp into her neck.

  Then there was nothing.

  * * *

  Nathan Isaacs never wasted time weighing the means against the ends. The situation was simple: he wasn’t leaving without Jaci, no matter if she agreed or not.