Colton 911--Deadly Texas Reunion Page 3

  “Yep!” she said, her full-wattage smile beaming at him. Her face had lost its baby fat, but not the elfin shape of her nose and full lips, her rounded cheekbones and wide almond-shaped eyes, the same color as the dark roast coffee now soaking his shirt.

  He took a moment to catch his breath, then wheezed, “Holy cow! How the heck are you?”

  When she finally put her feet on the ground and stepped back, she kept her grip on his arms, as if she were afraid he’d disappear if she let go. “I’m good. Excellent, in fact, now that you’re here! Oh my god, Nolan, I’m so happy to see you!”

  He chuckled and nodded to his spilled coffee. “Clearly.”

  She glanced down at the brown stain on his white T-shirt and cringed. “Oops. Sorry!”

  “Forget it. The shirt will wash.” He nodded toward the police tape. “What were you up to over there?”

  “Oh, that?” She bent to retrieve the notebook she’d dropped when she’d hugged him. “Gathering info for a new case.”

  “A case? You’re a cop?”

  She wrinkled her nose in the captivating way he remembered and shook her head. “Not a cop. A private investigator.”

  Nolan raised his eyebrows and chuckled his surprise. “You’re a PI?”

  Her smile dimmed, and she narrowed a glare on him. “Why is that funny to you?”

  “It’s just—”

  “A woman can be a PI same as any man!” She straightened her back, making the most of her five-foot-nothing stature as she squared off with him.

  He raised both palms toward her. “Whoa! No offense intended. I just never would have pictured you becoming a PI is all.”

  Her hackles eased, and she gave him a lopsided grin. “Oh, yeah? And what did you see me becoming?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe joining the Army like your dad? Or working on the Colton Ranch wrangling cows alongside Jonah and Dallas?”

  She twisted her mouth as if thinking. “Not the Army. Too transient. I had my fill of moving all over the place with my dad.” Then focusing her attention on him again, she rushed forward for another hug. “I can’t believe it’s you! You’re really here! It’s been way too long.”

  He hugged her back, more awkwardly aware of the feminine curves snuggled against him. It’s Summer, for God’s sake! You’re not allowed to notice her figure!

  Leaning back to peer up at him, she asked, “What about you? What brings you here?”

  He hitched a thumb toward the office buildings. “I’m meeting Bellamy. Donovan’s wife?”

  She nodded. “I’ve met her. She’s great.”

  “Apparently her coworkers threw a baby shower today, and she needs help lugging some big items out to her car.”

  Her smile twitched playfully. “That’s very kind of you to help her out, but... I meant what are you doing in Whisperwood?” Her expression changed instantly to excited hopefulness. “Did you move back here? Oh, Nolan! Say you did!”

  He scratched his chin as he flashed a moue of regret. “Afraid not, Tadpole.”

  “Tadpole.” She sighed happily. “It’s been a while since anyone called me that.” She cocked her head to the side. “So what did bring you to town after all these years?”

  Whether she intended the scolding tone or not, he heard a mild reprimand in her question that chewed guiltily at his gut—followed immediately by the acid bite of anger and apprehension left by his suspension. “I’m taking some time off to...rest. Get some perspective on some things.”

  Rather than satisfy Summer, his vague answer seemed to intrigue her. Her gaze intensified, her mouth compressed and her brow wrinkled in consternation. “What the hell does that mean? Get some perspective?”

  “It’s a job-related issue.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Were you fired?”

  He rolled his shoulders, cleared his throat. “No.” Might as well have been.

  Her gaze narrowed further, and he recognized a deep insight in her espresso-brown stare. Summer had always been able to read him well when they were kids.

  He drew his shoulders back and glanced away from her knowing gaze. This suspension was a crock, a humiliation. How would he ever be taken seriously by his fellow agents again?

  “Nolan?”

  He aimed a thumb over his shoulder. “Look, um... Bellamy is waiting for me, so I need to run. But it was great to see you, Summer.” He smiled, meaning it. “I’d love to get together for coffee and a catch-up.” He motioned to the front of his shirt with his empty cup. “You do owe me a cup.”

  Summer tucked her golden-blond hair behind her ear, nodding. “That I do, hoss.” She patted her pockets, then frowned. “Dang, I left my business cards at the office.” Flipping a page in her notepad, she scribbled a phone number and ripped the sheet out. “Call me. I want to hear what you’ve been up to, what sort of perspective you need in this mysterious career of yours.”

  Folding the sheet, he tucked it in his back pocket. “Count on it.”

  He leaned in to give her cheek a peck, catching the tantalizing floral scent of her shampoo as he did. At the last second, he thought better of the platonic show of affection. Once bitten, twice shy and all that crap. He angled his face away so that they merely brushed cheeks. He took a long step back and rubbed his free hand on the leg of his jeans. Damn it, was this what he’d come to? Second-guessing every friendly gesture around a woman, afraid of his actions being misconstrued?

  He continued walking backward, somehow reluctant to let Summer out of his sight. For so many years, she’d been the yin to his yang. Her energy and sunny disposition able to lift him from even the darkest mood. In light of his current circumstances, he could use a strong dose of Summer’s friendship and positivity in his life. Running into her today felt like more than good luck. He didn’t believe in fate or karma, but seeing Summer gave him a familiar sense of well-being and comfort, like the innocence of their younger days.

  He lifted a hand, waving as he reluctantly turned to walk away. If he had the chance to reconnect with Summer while he was on leave, maybe his suspension wouldn’t totally suck. He grinned to himself as he strode across the parking lot. See, Summer was already rubbing off on him. He’d found a silver lining in the disaster that was his life.

  * * *

  So she’d been right about seeing Nolan from her office window. A giddy revelry danced inside Summer, leaving her breathless and beaming. After several years of radio silence from her childhood friend, seeing him again was a bonus she hadn’t expected when she’d moved back to Whisperwood. She pressed a hand over her scampering heartbeat and prayed he’d use her phone number to set up a date. Well, not a date date. That wasn’t the kind of relationship they had. But she wanted a long sit-down, catch-up, revive-their-friendship meeting, coffee or not. Because, damn it, she’d missed Nolan.

  When she’d asked her best girlfriend, Avery Logan—who was now engaged to Nolan’s cousin Dallas—what the Coltons had heard from Nolan, she’d been told he hadn’t been in touch with his cousins, either. His life for the past several years had been a mystery to her and his cousins. Why? What had led him to lose touch with the family and friends he’d once been so close to?

  Summer watched Nolan walk away and couldn’t help admiring his broad shoulders and lean hips, the confident swagger in his stride, and the shimmer of golden autumn sun on his light brown hair. She raised a hand to her face, still feeling the light scrape of his five o’clock scruff on her cheek. In that moment, she’d been sure he was going to kiss her, and when he hadn’t, disappointment plucked at her. Not because she expected a kiss—they were just friends, after all—but because she’d detected a reticence on his part. He’d held back. Withdrawn.

  As kids they’d had such an easy rapport. Even the last time she’d Skyped with him as a teenager, before her family had moved to Colorado and she’d lost touch with him, the comfor
table camaraderie had been second nature. So what had changed?

  Well, other than the fact that Nolan was no longer a rangy teenager with acne, but a tall, good-looking man with a sexy amount of beard stubble.

  “Whew,” she whispered on an exhale, mentally amending, a very good-looking man. Who’d developed muscles to match his height. Muscles she’d itched to run her hands over and explore after their hug.

  Good grief! She gave her head a firm shake. Was she seriously ogling Nolan Colton?

  Get that out of your system now, Davies. You want to make things awkward with your old friend? Just let him catch you eyeing him like he’s the last slice of Aunt Mimi’s chocolate cake.

  Great. Now she wanted Nolan and cake. Huffing her pique with herself, she tracked Nolan’s progress until he disappeared inside the Lone Star Pharma building. Nolan Colton. Here in Whisperwood. Wonders never ceased.

  As she turned back to the taped-off area where Patrice Eccleston’s body had been discovered, she sobered. She couldn’t let Nolan’s return distract her from the job at hand. She’d been charged with learning all she could about the monster who’d killed Patrice and why the attractive twenty-year-old had been targeted. If she’d been targeted. Had Patrice’s death been planned, or was it a random act of violence?

  As picturesque and homey as it appeared, Whisperwood was no stranger to murder and violent crime. In recent months, the man whom authorities had dubbed the Mummy Killer had been found. The murderer, Horace Corgan, had been on his deathbed and confessed to the crimes when presented with evidence of his guilt. Police had assumed Patrice was another of Corgan’s victims, but the dying man, who had nothing to lose for speaking the truth, had vehemently denied killing Patrice.

  In fact, the circumstances and evidence surrounding her murder and burial made her case an outlier. Unsolved. A raw wound for her family...which was what had brought Atticus and Ian to her office in search of answers, justice and peace of mind. Summer stared at the upturned dirt in the narrow ditch at the edge of the sprawling parking lot, and her heart ached. Poor Patrice. If construction workers hadn’t been repairing the buckled pavement left by recent storms, the slain woman might never have been found. Obviously what her killer had hoped for when he—or she—had chosen the location of Patrice’s shallow grave.

  “Patrice,” Summer whispered to the wind, “I promise to do everything in my power to find out who did this to you. If there is justice in this world, I will bring your killer in.”

  With her vow carrying to the heavens on the autumn breeze, Summer packed up her notes and headed back to town to begin fulfilling her promise.

  Chapter 2

  Summer’s mind whirled as she planned her next step in her investigation. Who should she talk to first? How should she proceed so that she didn’t burn bridges with the police department? What need for perspective had brought Nolan back to Whisperwood after all these years?

  She shook her head. Letting Nolan distract her was no way to keep her word to Patrice or solve her first real case. She tucked her notepad under her arm as she fished the keys to her Volkswagen Beetle out of her purse and unlocked her car.

  The clank of a metal door opening and the sound of voices drew her attention to the front entrance of Lone Star Pharma. Bellamy Colton, her belly swollen with eight months of pregnancy, held the door as Nolan struggled out the door with a pile of large boxes, stacked so high Summer wasn’t sure how he could see where he was walking. Bellamy led him to a car parked in the employee lot and popped the trunk.

  Discarding her purse and notepad on her passenger seat, Summer headed toward them to see if she could lend a hand.

  “Need any help?” she called, and Bellamy flashed her a broad grin of greeting.

  “Thanks, Summer, but I think Nolan’s got it.”

  Summer rushed forward as the top item slid from its perch. She caught the tumbling package and grabbed the next box from the teetering stack, as well. “Are you sure about that?”

  Nolan shot her an embarrassed grin. “Thanks. That was close.”

  Summer read the label on the pillow-like gift zipped in clear plastic packaging. “Boppy?”

  Bellamy’s face glowed. “I know! I’m so excited. I hear they’re a must, and I hadn’t gotten one before now.”

  Summer exchanged a curious look with Nolan as he loaded the gifts into Bellamy’s trunk, and she mouthed, What’s a Boppy?

  He shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’m just the pack mule.”

  Bellamy swatted at his arm. “Oh, hush. It’s not as bad as that. One more trip to get the swing, and we’ll be done.”

  Summer added the packages she’d caught to the nooks in Bellamy’s car and faced Nolan as he closed the trunk. “I was just finishing up my business here and thought I could buy you that cup of coffee I owe you now.”

  “Now?” He dusted grime from the car off his hands and arched one eyebrow.

  “I didn’t want to give you the chance to slip out of town and disappear before I could grill you about your mysterious absence from our lives.”

  He scoffed and gaped at her. “I disappeared? You’re one to talk, Ms. No Social Media Presence.”

  She cocked her head, blinking. “Huh? I have social media accounts. What are you—”

  Bellamy cleared her throat. “Um, I hate to interrupt this lovers’ quarrel, but—”

  Both Summer and Nolan jerked their heads toward Bellamy, chiming together, “We’re not—!” and “What! No!”

  Bellamy’s grin reflected her skepticism. “Whatever...but my feet are killing me. If you don’t mind grabbing that swing, Nolan? My lunch break is almost over, and I need to prop my feet up.”

  “Right.” Nolan aimed a finger at Bellamy. “Lead the way. I’m right behind you.” Then pointing at Summer, he added, “Yes. Now’s good. But let’s make it lunch at the Bluebell Diner. This pack mule is getting hungry.”

  Summer’s mood lifted, and butterfly wings flapped in her chest. “Deal.”

  As he followed the waddling Bellamy back inside, Nolan motioned to the place Summer was standing. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

  With a smirk, she saluted him. “Aye, aye, captain. I’ll be right here.”

  Nolan returned five minutes later, lugging a large cardboard box. Summer eyed the box then the back seat of Bellamy’s car. “Um, captain? I don’t think there’s room in the hold for that cargo.”

  “Not in that ship,” he said, nodding to Bellamy’s sedan. “I told her I’d put it in my car. This way. I’ll drive to lunch.”

  Summer pursed her lips, and memories of days spent rambling and relaxing on the Colton Ranch came back to her. Specifically how bossy Nolan could be. Apparently, that hadn’t changed. But she had. She was her own boss now, and she’d learned the hard way not to give any man control of her life.

  Nolan started across the pavement, and when she didn’t follow, he glanced back. “Coming?”

  “Yeah.” She fell in step next to him and dug her keys out of her pocket. “But I’ll drive my own car to lunch. That way we don’t have to double back here to pick it up.”

  He stopped at a dark blue Jeep Cherokee, where he opened the tailgate and slid the baby swing box in the back. “Suit yourself. If you beat me there, go ahead and get us a table.”

  She chuckled lightly. “Bossy as ever, I see.”

  He frowned. “Bossy? I only said—” He growled under his breath. “Whatever. Can I walk you to your car?”

  “Thanks, but I’m just there.” She pointed three spaces over to her yellow VW Beetle. “Meet ya in five.”

  Nolan gave her a wink and a nod that stirred a fresh wave of giddy bubbles in her veins. She trotted to her car, energized and more optimistic than she’d been in months. But as she backed her Beetle out of her parking spot, a niggling warning tickled her brain. As kids, she’d blown off Nolan’s autocratic dictates
or complied happily enough. He was a year older, a boy, and usually had good ideas that she accepted at face value. Good enough reasons for a nine-or ten-year-old kid to be a follower. No big deal. But eight years later, going along, appeasement and blind acceptance with Robby had gotten her tangled in a dangerous and detrimental relationship that she still had nightmares about.

  A cloud of doubt drifted in to cast her good mood in shadow. Summer squeezed the steering wheel and pulled onto the state road leading toward downtown Whisperwood. Nolan might be handsome as the devil and someone who’d graced her childhood with adventure and laughter, but she needed to proceed with caution. Clearly he was still a take-charge kind of guy. She couldn’t let her golden memories of Nolan, her fondness for their old friendship color this new iteration of their relationship. She needed to stand firm and set the parameters, or she could too easily repeat mistakes she had yet to live down.

  * * *

  When she arrived at the Bluebell Diner, a popular place for locals to eat their fill of home-style Southern cooking and Tex-Mex favorites, Nolan was already ensconced in a booth at the back of the restaurant near the door to the kitchen. He sat with his back to the wall, watching the door, and lifted his chin in acknowledgment as she entered the bustling diner.

  She greeted the older couple that ran the mercantile across the street from her office and Madeline Klein, for whom she’d handled a case last month, as she wended her way through the tables toward Nolan. The first thing she noticed as she reached their table was that he’d changed T-shirts. He’d replaced the coffee-soiled one with a simple heather-gray one that read FBI over the breast.

  He stood as she approached, waiting for her to sit before resuming his seat. He still has cowboy manners, she thought, smiling, flattered, while another part of her brain chafed. Did his old-fashioned manners translate to old-fashioned opinions about women?