Colton Storm Warning Page 20

  It was enough that a shooter had gotten to them, although Eric had dryly stated he figured a tornado touchdown was a good enough excuse. Although that still didn’t explain how the shooter had found them in the first place. Ty knew no one at Elite would have let that out, so somebody else had to have slipped up. The family should know better than to talk about his work when he was on a case, and his parents were the only ones who’d known why he wanted the cabin, anyway.

  He didn’t bring up the subject with his boss, knew he didn’t have to; he would be already on it. He spared a thought for how lucky he was, even though he’d gotten himself shot. Lucky to have work he loved and a boss he both admired and respected. Eric had not only driven to Braxville to check on him, he’d waited around so he could give him a ride home to Wichita. Ty guessed there weren’t a lot of bosses who would go to that extreme. And after learning where Ashley was—at her parents’ ski lodge in Beaver Creek, Colorado—in the interest of not having to defy him as well as the doctor, he hadn’t mentioned his plans. Or much of anything else.

  He’d let Eric talk, noticed he’d once more seemed impressed with Jordana after speaking with her outside the hospital room. He had found Ty’s mother warm and charming, but was unimpressed with his father. And unsurprisingly, as former military himself, had liked Uncle Shep, although he’d also noticed the slight tension in the family when the former Navy man had been present.

  But he’d underestimated his boss’s perception, because the last thing he said to him after he dropped him off was, “Don’t do anything stupid, Colton.”

  “Not today,” he’d answered, unwilling to go any further.

  “Good. There’s nothing that won’t keep until you get a decent night’s sleep.”

  Only the knowledge that the man was right, he wasn’t up to the task at the moment, had kept him home last night. But with his plans firmly in place, he’d slept well, awakened early and was almost ready to roll.

  He was grabbing his winter jacket out of the closet when his doorbell rang. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket. The phone he’d been tethered to since he’d gotten it back from Jordana, searching for any mention of Ashley, since he hadn’t heard one word except from Mitch through Elite, that she was all right. Her followers were questioning her absence on social media, although it appeared they were determined to follow through on the demonstration she’d organized at the wetlands near Lake Inman, where Sanderson was planning his development. But she herself hadn’t posted, which surprised him a little. He’d thought once she had a signal again she wouldn’t be able to resist making up for lost time.

  Maybe she had taken his warning seriously. He’d like to believe that.

  Right. If she took me—or what happened between us—so seriously, she’d have at least called.

  He knew Elite would have hustled her off to another safe site, and apparently Eric had agreed the Colorado location was safe enough, so he’d never expected her to visit him in the hospital, but a call would have been possible. If she’d wanted to.

  Which made his plans a bit problematic. But damn it, this was his job, no matter how tangled he’d let things get. Her safety was his responsibility. She was his responsibility.

  Not to mention that she’d likely saved his life. Even the doctors had agreed on that, that it would have been a lot more touch and go if she hadn’t had the knowledge and the nerve to do what she’d done.

  The doorbell came again, and he shook his head sharply. Looked again at the phone he’d grabbed and then forgotten as his thoughts spiraled. Maybe it was whatever drugs they’d given him in the hospital that was making it hard to focus.

  Even as he thought it, he knew better. It wasn’t hard to focus. It was just hard to focus on anything but Ashley.

  He tapped the screen and called up the cam at the front door. Was surprised to see Jordana standing there, looking worried. What was she doing here at six on a Saturday morning? He tapped for the speaker. “Come on in,” he said, as he unlocked the door.

  He started that way, hearing his sister’s swift steps across the entryway floor. He made sure he was walking normally, and that the ache in his side didn’t show on his face. She’d tell him to take a pain pill, and that wasn’t in the game plan.

  “You’re a ways out of your jurisdiction,” he said jokingly as he got to her, to further stave off any fussing over him. She did look him up and down, but apparently that he was upright and moving was enough.

  Or that what she had to say took precedence, he realized as he looked at her expression.

  “It’s Dex,” she said bluntly.

  He blinked. “What’s Dex? Besides the guy who insulted Gwen and who makes promises Dad has to keep.”

  “The gun’s his.”

  Maybe the drugs they’d given him in the hospital were still in his system, because he was having trouble processing. “Wait...you’re saying Dex shot at Ashley?”

  “No. He shot you. Yvette matched the slug to his .45.”

  Ty drew back slightly. Too quickly, and the tug on his wound made him wince. “Why the hell would he—”

  “I think he’s behind the bodies in the wall.”

  Ty stared at her. He knew his sister was good, very good, but he was going to need more to just buy this wholesale. “Give it to me,” he ordered, his voice tight.

  “He had access to the building from the beginning. He asked Dad if he could use the cabin, and Dad told him you were using it for work.”

  Ty winced again, mentally this time. “Damn. I really don’t want that spread around, that we use the cabin as a safe house. I thought Dad realized that.”

  Jordana gave him a rather odd little smile. “He does. But he was bragging about you, and it slipped out.”

  Ty knew he was gaping at her now. “Bragging? About me? I don’t believe it. The old man’s never forgiven me for going with Elite.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s not proud of what you do, bro,” Jordana said quietly.

  He was going to need time to process that particular revelation. He focused on the immediate problem. “Just because he wanted to use the cabin—”

  He stopped when she held up a hand. “Dad also bragged that you were getting close to finding the truth about the bodies. That being private, you weren’t hamstrung like we are sometimes. And that you’d never quit until you did.”

  If there’d been a chair handy, Ty would have collapsed into it by now. Not because of his injury but in shock. His father had never said anything like that to him. He’d never had the slightest idea he was proud of him, of his work, he’d only known that he was unhappy he hadn’t gone to work for Colton Construction.

  Jordana apparently read his expression. “Come on, firstborn, you know you’re the favorite.” She let out a sigh. “Which is a lot better than being the misfit.”

  “Who’s the misfit?” he asked, mystified.

  She grimaced at him. “Me, of course. Not the oldest, not one of the triplets, not the baby. I’m just...there.”

  Ty stared at her. “You’re the best cop on the force, one of the best in the state. Even my boss is impressed with you. If Dad’s not prouder of you than any of us, he’s a bigger fool than I think he is.”

  To his surprise, his sister blushed. “That’s what Clint says.”

  Ty smiled at that. “I knew I liked that guy.” He had approved of Jordana’s romance with the Chicago businessman from the beginning.

  But he supposed it was a measure of how far he was off his game that he had to work to concentrate on the sense of what she’d said about the cold case that had thrown the family into chaos.

  “So you think Dex killed Fenton Crane and Olivia Harrison, and tried to kill me because he thought I was getting close?”

  She nodded, and looked at him even more intently. “And I think he would have killed your client, too, to make it look like she was the targ
et and throw off suspicion.”

  The thought of Ashley dead chilled him. The thought of her dying because of this mess his family was in and his failure to protect her made the chill arctic. He was supposed to protect her, and instead she ended up saving him.

  He shook it off. He had no time for even self-recrimination now. “How sure are you of this?”

  “Very. For one final reason.”

  “Which is.”

  “Dex has dropped off the map.”

  “Damn. Damn, sis.”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you told Dad?”

  “Not yet.” Again, she gave him that assessing look. “I thought you’d want to let the Harts know right away.”

  Ty nearly groaned aloud. “That our family mess nearly got their daughter killed? Yeah, I can’t wait to have that conversation.”

  “I got the feeling you were a bit more personally involved than that.”

  He looked into those blue eyes so like their mother’s, and couldn’t lie to her. “Yeah. Well. My mistake.”

  “Are you sure it was a mistake?”

  “Geeze, Jord, she’s Ashley freaking Hart of the Westport Harts. Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “I seem to remember you telling me to go for it with Clint,” she said neutrally. “He may not be Hart-level rich, but it’s the same principle. So I’ll say the same to you, bro. Go for it. If you lose, you’ll only be where you already think you are now.”

  His sister, Ty thought as he got behind the wheel of his own SUV this time, had a way of putting things that made sense. You’ll only be where you already think you are.

  A little over an hour later, he was through Salina and on I-70 heading west. Just over five hundred miles to go. He had grudgingly sworn to make himself stop now and then to rest a little and eat, although it took some self-convincing. He didn’t want to end up in a ditch, or later off the side of a mountain, if he pushed too hard. Or worse, take some innocent bystander with him. And he had to admit, after a week of hospital food, a little gorging on fast food was necessary.

  He was crossing into Colorado before noon. He was sure now it had been the right decision to drive rather than hassle with flight schedules and rental cars. It probably would have taken him just as long either way, and this way at least he could decide when he needed to stop for a rest. He ignored the ache in his side as best he could, used the pain to keep himself alert. And pondered Jordana’s news.

  Dex? He’d always thought the man a little smarmy, a little too charming. Many women seemed taken by him, in any case. And he took advantage. Personally, he’d thought Dex’s wife, Mary, was deserving of much better treatment by her non-prince of a husband. It had been one of those not-so-secret things that no one talked about because they didn’t want to hurt her, since she was so nice.

  But...a double-murderer?

  Neither of the victims in the walls had been shot, but he didn’t think Dex carried a weapon around; Ty would have noticed. That wasn’t the sort of thing he missed. Then again, this had been three decades ago. He had no idea what Markus Dexter had been like then. At three years old, he’d only known he didn’t like the guy much, but his wife was nice.

  When he got back, he was damned well going to find answers. And he’d use whatever resources he had, whatever methods—some of which Dad had been right about when he’d said he wasn’t as hamstrung as the police—to do it. The family’s future depended on resolving that double murder.

  But his future depended on reaching Ashley.

  Chapter 33

  The lodge was a timber-frame-style building, large but managing to be unpretentious at the same time. There were balconies all around, no doubt giving great views down the valley one way, up the mountain on the other side. That was the focus—the location, not the home itself. It suited the Harts, because it seemed they were everything Ashley had said they were. Kind, loving, generous...and crazy, utterly in love. He’d learned a lot about body language and signals in his career. Everything about these two declared they were a unit, inseparable.

  When he’d arrived, they were just getting out of a large luxury SUV, returning from a day in Roaring Springs, another resort town to the west. They had gone to look at a location for a resort catering to people with disabilities they were considering investing in. They’d invited him in, gushing out enough thanks to make him uncomfortable.

  “We ran into the local sheriff there,” Andrew Hart said, as they stepped inside. A quick glance around showed him the interior was fairly unpretentious, confirming the focus was on nature outside, and Ty was even more impressed than before. “Trey Colton. Any connection?”

  “I... Yes. Distantly.” He tried for a smile. “I think we’re all over the place.”

  “Well, he was a very nice man,” Angela Hart said.

  “And tough enough for the job, I think,” Mr. Hart added.

  He could see Ashley in both of them. She had her mother’s hair, the same rich shade of brown and sleekly straight. But she had her father’s eyes, that deep dark brown, with the same quickness and intensity. The problem was they were embarrassing him a bit with their effusive thanks and praise. He wasn’t real happy about how this whole thing had gone down—the fact that he had slept with their daughter aside—and wasn’t sure he deserved any of it.

  “Ashley insisted we go take the meeting,” her mother said, as if feeling she needed to explain why they weren’t here with her.

  “Of course,” Ty said.

  “Our personal security detail is watching her,” her father added. “They know the house and the area.”

  “Is she all right?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he wondered if his anxious tone would register. Wondered if—and what—Ashley had told them.

  He’d had a long time to think while trapped in that hospital bed. One of the things he’d focused on was the discussion he’d had with his sister Jordana when she’d come back from Chicago, trying to hide her heartbreak over Clint. All because Clint had never really told her how he felt about her. Jordana had told him how that had made her feel. Which in turn had led him to picture that morning after in the cellar, from Ashley’s point of view.

  This was wrong. A mistake.

  How would he have felt if Jordana had told him Clint had said that, the morning after their first time together? He would have wanted to shoot the guy.

  Memories of harsh words spoken had tumbled through his mind in an endless loop.

  It was...storm-induced madness and I was handy, right? Meaningless.

  Meaningless? Is that what you call something I’ll never ever forget? Something I’ll torture myself about for the rest of my life?

  But the phrase that tortured him was the one where Ashley had in essence done what Clint had not. She’d admitted to her feelings.

  ...falling for her bodyguard.

  He didn’t know how much damage he’d done. He didn’t know if anything could be salvaged from the wreckage he’d caused. He only knew he had to try. He tried to pull himself together.

  “I think I should ask are you all right?” Mrs. Hart asked, eyeing him with concern. “I can’t believe you drove this far a week after being shot.”

  “You and my mother,” Ty said wryly, then feeling a little explanation was required, added, “She was a nurse, too, although she mostly teaches now.”

  She seemed surprised for a moment, and Ty realized it was probably because he’d known about her work. Did Ashley never tell people things like that? He’d understand it if she didn’t. They probably always had to be on guard about people using any information they could find against them.

  Andrew Hart didn’t appear surprised at all. But then he was focused on only one thing. “Is there any progress on identifying the shooter?”

  Ty braced himself. He hadn’t been looking forward to this. “Yes. And my family and I
owe you an apology.”

  The man’s brow furrowed. “Your family?”

  “It appears the shooter wasn’t after Ashley. He was after me.”

  Mrs. Hart gasped, but Ashley’s father held his gaze levelly. This was the man who had built upon the fortune left to him, not merely lived high on it. “You’ll pardon me for saying that the name Colton seems to attract...”

  “Chaos? I wouldn’t argue that,” Ty said wearily. He could feel the cost of the exertion to get here creeping up on him. “And that’s why the family apology.”

  He dreaded the next part, admitting that being with him had put Ashley in danger. That Dex likely would have killed her, too, to make it look as if she had been the target and he himself just collateral damage.

  “I understand,” Mr. Hart said, now with an edge in his voice as his gaze flicked to his wife and then back to Ty. “All of it. And let’s leave it at that, shall we?”

  Ty stared into eyes so like Ashley’s, deep brown, alert and doing nothing to mask the intelligence behind them. The man did understand. And he didn’t feel his wife needed to know how close their daughter had come. At least not now. But Ty had the feeling that if the mother was as smart as the daughter, she’d figure that out on her own.

  “Yes, let’s,” Mrs. Hart said. “You didn’t know at the time, and you acted to save Ashley, taking the bullet that could easily have struck her,” her mother said briskly. “And for that, we will be eternally grateful.”

  “May I...see her?” God, thirty-three years old and he felt like an awkward teenager asking a girl’s parents’ permission to take her out. He was just thankful they had no idea of the extent of his unprofessionalism. Yet.

  Of course, if Ashley was still furious with him, as she had every right to be, they would likely never know.

  “I’m sure she’ll want to see you. She hated leaving you in the hospital,” her mother assured him, and led him over to what appeared to be the main stairway. She gestured upward. “Turn right at the top of the stairs. Her room is all the way at the end.” She smiled. “Ashley likes to look out at the mountain. Says she sees more of the local wildlife from there.”