Colton's Deadly Engagement

Finn briefly toyed with inviting Brayden to join him for dinner, but for some reason the thought of sharing a steak and a beer with his cousin—whom he liked quite a bit—didn’t entice the same way as images of dining with Darby.

Since his latest set of notes wouldn’t write itself, Finn opted to ignore thoughts of dinner altogether as he sat down. His desk held what he considered a comfortable amount of clutter: stacks of files, a handful of notes, and a series of sticky notes that littered the top of his desk and the edges of his computer monitor. Shifting a stack of folders farther to the edge, he knocked over a dark box, the square packaging making a heavy thud as it hit the floor.

Finn bent to pick it up, quite sure the box hadn’t been on his desk the night before. There was a small square card taped to the top and he flipped it open.

“‘Chocolates for a cop with a big heart.’” The note was signed “an appreciative citizen” and had small hearts dotting the i’s in “citizen.”

He wanted to think it was sweet—this wasn’t the first anonymous gift he’d received over the past few weeks—but it was beginning to get out of hand. Red Ridge was a small town and he appreciated the proprietary way the citizens treated their local law enforcement. The holidays typically brought a steady stream of cookies and cakes for the staff and homemade treats for the canine members of the team. Summer often brought picnic baskets of fried chicken and endless vats of lemonade.

In all of those cases, the townsfolk enjoyed bringing in the gifts and thanking the staff in person. What Finn couldn’t quite reconcile with the recent spate of gifts directed at him was why the giver felt the need to be anonymous.

Going with his gut, he dropped the chocolate into the trash can under his desk and went back to his report.

There really was no accounting for the wacky things people did. And since he had a killer to catch, he hardly had the time to worry about someone too shy to come in to the precinct to say hello.

* * *

Darby stared at her checkbook and tried desperately not to think about the debt that loomed once she got through the month of February.

“Welcome to Monday,” she muttered to herself, well aware she’d have the same problem on a Tuesday, a Wednesday or any other day of the week. There simply wasn’t any more money. And the vet’s visit the day before—a courtesy visit he’d called it—had proved conclusively she couldn’t breed Penny again. The risk to Penny’s health was too great to support another litter, especially coming on the heels of the litter she’d had the previous fall.

He’d mentioned a sweet German shepherd he’d taken care of in a nearby town—one ready for breeding and whose owner would sell for a fair price assuming she could keep one of the litter as part of the arrangement. But Darby knew it was hopeless. She barely had enough to take care of herself and Penny. There was no way she could afford a new dog right now.

The breeding program would have to wait until she got back on her feet. A few more months of her regular jobs—waitressing at the diner and helping out at the K-9 training center—and she’d reassess. That was assuming the taxes on Bo’s property didn’t put her underwater before she could earn what she needed.

On a hard sigh, she slammed the checkbook cover closed and shoved it, along with several open bills, across the kitchen table. She’d worry about it later. The problem wasn’t going anywhere and she had one more room to clean before she’d finally feel like she’d officially moved in to her own home.

When had Bo become such a slob?

While she hadn’t lied to Chief Colton the other day—that she was pleased to be out of her marriage—Bo hadn’t been a terrible guy. They weren’t compatible in the least and once she’d gotten past the fact that she’d fallen in love with an image instead of an actual person, it had become far easier for her to assess her marriage through objective eyes.

Even his roving nature—undoubtedly the worst aspect of their relationship—had an odd sense of immaturity wrapped up in it. If Bo wanted something, he went after it. Like a child unable to leave a sweet on the counter or Penny snatching something from the trash. The item was taken because it was there.

Bo was the same with women.

What he hadn’t been, if memory served, was a piggish man with a dirty home. Granted, he’d been a bachelor before she’d moved in the first time, and had spent more time out of the house than in, but she hadn’t remembered the dirt.

Or maybe she’d simply had the blind gaze of a newlywed, determined to create a new life.

She crossed to the counter and picked up her scrub brush, soap and a large container of bleach. She’d nearly gone through the entire thing over the past week, scrubbing down anything and everything she could find. The small second bathroom at the back of the house was her last hurdle to conquer. She could then at least take comfort that she laid her head down each evening in a clean home.

An hour later, with the last section of shower tile shining a gleaming white, a heavy pounding on the front door jarred Darby from her thoughts and the throbbing strains of pop music that played through her earbuds. The addition of Penny’s barking had her peeling off her rubber gloves and dropping everything into the tub to go see who was at the door.

“Penny!” The dog had her nose pressed to the floor in front of the door, a low growl emanating from deep in her throat.

The pounding kicked up again and without the earbuds Darby had no trouble making out who was knocking. The high-pitched screech gave it away even before Darby pulled aside the small panel curtain that hid the glass beside the door.

Hayley Patton.

“Darby Gage, you let me in!”

Although it had been a few years since she’d lived with Bo and Penny, Darby hadn’t forgotten her training skills or the way Bo had taught her to manage the dog. She used the required instructions to order Penny away from the door, satisfied when she took up her post a few feet back, blocking the small hallway entrance into the main living area of the house.

The uncontrolled barking was odd, but not unexpected. For all her skill with dogs as a trainer at the K-9 training center, Hayley had a worse relationship with Penny than Darby did. Whether there was something about the woman that disturbed Penny or just the pure knowledge that Hayley was a jerk, Darby didn’t know. But nothing changed the fact that the two of them did not get along.

She didn’t like another woman in her territory?

The conversation that had haunted her throughout the weekend popped up once more, the chief’s question ringing in her ears. Did Penny resent Hayley’s place in Bo’s life? Was that the root of her upset? Or was it possible there was something more?

Hayley had been playing the grieving fiancée to the hilt and while it pained Darby to think otherwise, was it possible the woman was responsible for Bo’s death? She knew it was beyond unkind—the woman had lost her fiancée the night before the wedding—but something about Hayley had always run false to her.

Yet thinking Hayley had a hand in Bo’s death seemed far-fetched. Especially now that there had been a second murder—one that had nothing to do with Hayley.

Dismissing the thought, Darby opened the door. Arm raised, Hayley had clearly been preparing to emit another round of pounding. The motion was enough to have her stumbling through the door on one high-heeled boot. Darby caught her, along with a whiff of heavy perfume and the knowledge that Bo had moved on to something bigger and better in the high, tight breasts that even now pressed against Darby’s chest.

“Let go of me!” Hayley twisted out of the hold and quickly regained her feet. Penny let out another low growl, only to be on the receiving end of a trademark Hayley Patton eye roll. “Enough already! You know me!”

Penny dropped her head on her paws, as if acknowledging the truth of Hayley’s statement, but kept her gaze firmly on her nemesis.

“What do you want, Hayley?”

“Nice welcome, Darb. You’ve gotten awful bossy since moving in to Bo’s house.”

“It’s my house now.”

“One you don’t deserve,” Hayley snapped.

Since the house was old and shabby and, up until the thorough cleaning had been as much of a physical mess as its meager finances, Darby toyed briefly with snapping a leash on Penny, tossing Hayley the keys and breezing right on out the door. Since that fantasy was easier than the reality of just walking out, Darby opted to play along to see what the woman wanted.

“Then maybe you and Bo should have talked about something important leading up to your wedding, like wills and finances.”

“How dare you bring up something so crass and cold? I loved my Bow-tie.”

Darby avoided making her mental eye roll a real one at the childish nickname and tried to summon up her cool. “I’m not suggesting you didn’t. But you obviously didn’t discuss your future if you’re mad at me.”

“I loved him and I thought he loved me. How did I even know he had a will? What twenty-nine-year-old has a will?”

A smart one, Darby thought. She’d made hers the moment she’d turned twenty-one and kept it in a lockbox with her other personal papers. “Well, Bo did.”

“It’s like tempting fate.” Hayley shivered before her big blue eyes widened so far it was practically comical. “Do you think that’s why he’s dead?”

“I doubt it.”

“Why not?”

“Bo’s dead because someone put a bullet in his heart. I don’t think a will had anything to do with it.”

The sneer Hayley had carried through the door faded at the harsh image Darby had painted. “I’m well aware of what happened to him.”