Colton's Fugitive Family. Jennifer Morey

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      “How do they know that?”

      “Everything came out because of a sexual harassment case last month. No one even realized it was connected until the pieces starting fitting together. Hunter Black—he’s a cop with the PD—found out that an employee of Colton Energy lied about bigwig Layla Colton sexually harassing him. Her phone and email were hacked. Only one person would have a motive to ruin her and that’s Devlin Harrington. He didn’t want his father marrying her. Hunter found proof of the hacking and, in turn, other evidence was dug up—evidence that connected him to being the Groom Killer. Devlin is now on the run, like you.”

      Demi lowered her gun, stunned by this revelation. “What evidence?”

      “A gun was found buried in his backyard. It’s the same gun used to kill some of the victims, but there were no prints.”

      That further interested her. She resisted. This was Lucas Gage, Bo’s brother and her longtime enemy and professional competitor. He could be playing her until he found Wolf—his nephew—and subdued her long enough to take her into custody. He had ample reason to want to get her, and get her good.

      A gust of wind reminded her a storm was underway. If she didn’t make a move now, she’d never get away. She walked into the kitchen and stopped at the counter with her back to Lucas. Blocking his sight of the monitor, she slid it between the coffee maker and the toaster oven. Then she turned to face him.

      “That’s very compelling, Lucas, but I’m not going anywhere with you.”

      When Lucas had first seen Demi from his vantage point on the floor, he hadn’t recognized her. He’d thought he’d wound up at another dead end, breaking into a strange woman’s cabin. Then the changes registered, the shorter hair she’d colored dark, the baggy hippie-like clothes. Her pretty green eyes were still the same, all full of fiery courage and defiance. She was the most fearless woman he’d ever met. The most competitive, too. She annoyed him as much as she intrigued him. He was sure she felt the same about him.

      He still sat at the kitchen island and she stood on the other side, distrusting, still holding the gun. She might dress up as a hippie, but she looked casual but modern right now. The jeans flattered her shape, long legs and narrow hips. A soft blue thermal top was both practical on this cold night and attractive, molding to her form and reminding him that he’d always been attracted to those breasts.

      He’d been so relieved when he realized he’d finally found her, relieved that she was the woman supposedly named Chelsey Carter whom he’d been tracking, and unable to deny that his relief stemmed from something much more emotional. She could handle herself and he felt bad for doubting her innocence, for going after her with more determination than he’d ever had for any other fugitive. Devlin Harrington had proved himself very dangerous, paying off fake witnesses and killing all those grooms. He’d do anything to preserve his evil way of life. More than he wanted to make amends for doubting her, Lucas wanted to protect Demi until the real Groom Killer was captured. One problem with that? Demi hadn’t liked him before he started hunting for her.

      “How did you find me?” Demi asked.

      Her demeanor had changed. She’d softened. Had she begun to believe him? He studied her unreadable mouth and the slight angle of her face. Were her eyebrows raised a little more? The easing of tension would do that. But Lucas knew this woman more than she realized. She might have dropped some of her guard, but she most definitely did not believe him.

      “Do you mind putting that gun away?”

      She still held it aimed at him.

      “If I was going to hurt you, or bring you back to Red Ridge against your will, I’d have already done it, Demi.”

      “You always were so sure of yourself.”

      He was a good bounty hunter. “I could say the same about you.”

      Her eyebrows twitched as though she hadn’t expected him to say that, as though doubting his subtle compliment.

      “How did you find me?” she asked again.

      He moved away from the window and the Christmas tree, nearly certain she wouldn’t shoot him. He took in her cabin. Simply furnished, but tastefully done, she’d made herself a home while she hid. At the kitchen island, he pulled a stool out and sat.

      Demi stayed where she was with her gun still ready, waiting for an answer.

      “I checked new and recent residents of surrounding towns and only one name came up as having no history until a few years ago—Chelsey Carter. The timing was off, of course, since you’ve only been on the run for a year. But I knew you could have found a way to fudge dates, so it was worth checking out. I wasn’t sure if it was you,” he said.

      “That explains why you seemed surprised to see me,” she said.

      “How did you manage to get set up here? The false name. This cabin.” He glanced around. “This is nice.”

      “I didn’t have to fudge dates. I helped a fugitive escape a few years ago. She was innocent. This cabin belonged to her under a false name. She helped me the way I helped her.”

      “What fugitive?”

      “Maddie Morrison. When she was on the run, she came here. One of her family members gave her enough money to buy this place and helped her clear her name. I assumed her fake identity, the one she set up for herself as Chelsey Carter. She took all the furniture with her when she left, so all I had to do was furnish and decorate.”

      “Didn’t anyone in town get suspicious about another Chelsey Carter appearing every now and then?”

      Demi smiled. “I went to town in disguise. I bought some hippie attire and a wig so I looked more like Chelsey. We have the same eye color. She’s a little shorter than me, but not by much. Also, Chelsey didn’t go into town very much, just to buy food. She never talked to anyone, either. No one noticed me, at least, not in a suspicious or curious way.”

      There was only one question left to ask.

      Where was the baby?

      Police had found a positive pregnancy test in her bathroom the day she’d fled. And just a few months ago, when she’d texted her brother from a burner phone to declare her innocence, Shane Colton had asked how the baby was, and Demi replied that he was fine.

      Lucas looked around and saw no sign an infant lived here. He would have found her sooner if she’d had the baby under her own name. She must have gone to the hospital as Chelsey Carter. For months, until Demi had confirmed it herself via that text, her being pregnant, giving birth on the run, were rumors. He’d always hoped the rumors were true—and that the father of the baby was Bo, her ex-fiancé, his late brother. When he’d believed her guilty, he’d thought Bo getting her pregnant and then dumping her served as great motive to want to kill him. After he realized she hadn’t killed his brother, he’d wanted the rumors to be true. A part of Bo would live on. Lucas’s nephew.

      “Where’s the baby?” he asked.

      “What baby?”

      He watched her face closely. She’d answered deadpan. But he knew about her text to her brother Shane, who worked closely with the RRPD. Why was she lying?

      “Is СКАЧАТЬ