Killer Colton Christmas. Regan Black

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      “Do you still want me to call an ambulance?”

      He let his gaze drift down her compact body, from her lovely face, over the shapely legs bared by her tailored skirt, to the heels that wouldn’t last a day out here. His job was to keep her safe while they assessed the hack and her potential culpability, not catalog her finer attributes.

      “Let’s give him a minute. Help me get him inside.” Dragging her out of Dallas and promising her safety, only to find a body in the doorway, probably didn’t instill much confidence. It certainly left him rattled and wondering.

      “Shouldn’t you check for intruders or a break-in?”

      “If someone was inside, Scrabble would’ve told me by now.” He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Predictably, his stocky little dog squeezed through at the first opportunity and turned a happy circle at his feet before snuffling around Ace’s face and neck.

      She jerked back and sneezed, then startled him by growling at the older man. “Settle. Back it up, Scrabble.”

      The dog stepped aside and plopped onto her rump at his left foot. Her ears cocked for his next command, Emiliano saw her curious gaze drift toward Marie.

      “In a minute,” he said to his dog. He’d make introductions as soon as he got Ace inside. As gently as possible, he hauled Ace over the threshold and settled him on the nearest couch in the central room.

      Marie followed with Gordo and the luggage, and closed the door.

      “Kitchen’s that way.” Emiliano pointed. Scrabble put her nose under Ace’s hand in a move that usually earned her an ear rub. Ace remained still. “Can you find a towel and wet it with cool water, please?”

      Marie hurried off while Emiliano continued evaluating Ace. The older man didn’t reek of alcohol and wasn’t known to get sloppy drunk. The next guess was drugs, though that too would be out of character. Emiliano searched the man’s pockets, found his cell phone and checked for any incriminating messages or callers, coming up empty.

      Marie handed him the cool, damp towel and stepped back while Emiliano pressed the cloth to Ace’s cheeks and forehead.

      Scrabble studied the woman between her attempts to rouse Ace.

      “We should call an ambulance,” Emiliano muttered. “I just don’t know what to tell them.” Suspicions of heart attack or stroke wouldn’t help a paramedic diagnose anything. With Ace breathing and a steady pulse, he decided to give the man another minute or two to come around.

      They had a security system in place, but it was primarily aimed at protecting the vet practice. It hadn’t been armed here when he’d opened the door, which told him Ace had been working nearby today. Wouldn’t Scrabble have been out there with him?

      Ace’s hand twitched, his fingers sinking into Scrabble’s ruff. The dog gave a soft woof and another nudge. The man’s eyelids fluttered open. He looked around, winced and closed his eyes tight.

      “Ace?”

      “Emiliano?” he rasped. He coughed a little and tried to roll to his side.

      “Easy, friend.” Emiliano turned to Marie. “Water?”

      She dashed to the kitchen, her heels snapping on the slate flooring between the thick area rugs.

      “What happened?” Emiliano asked when she was out of earshot.

      “How did I get in here?”

      “I carried you,” Emiliano said. “I’m calling a doctor.”

      “No. That’s silly.” Ace pushed himself to a seated position and clapped a hand to his neck. Scrabble hopped up, growled at the spot. “I’m good, sweet girl.”

      “Let me see.” Emiliano pulled back Ace’s work shirt, tugged aside the collar of the T-shirt underneath. “This looks like a bruise from a needle with a scratch to go with it. You need the hospital.”

      “No.” Ace coughed. “I’m awake. I’ll be fine.”

      “Here.” Marie held out a bottle of water.

      Ace squinted up at her. “Who are you?”

      “Marie Meyers, CDO of Colton, Incorporated,” Emiliano answered for her.

      “You’re pretty.” Ace accepted the water, drank deep. “What’s a CDO do?”

      “Ignore him. Our Ace is an incurable flirt,” Emiliano deadpanned. He pushed back to sit on the edge of an ottoman. “Give me a reason not to take you over to the hospital, old man.”

      “That’s where I was,” Ace said. He blotted his face with the cool towel and let it fall to his thigh as if that small movement exhausted him.

      “You were at Memorial?”

      “No, no. The vet hospital. Tires on the driveway.” He closed his eyes. “It doesn’t make sense. Everyone knows your parents are out of town.”

      Ace was right. Everyone in Shadow Creek knew the veterinary offices were closed because his parents were taking a long-overdue extended vacation before the holidays. No one should have been driving around that part of the ranch. “Come on.” Emiliano pulled his keys from his pocket. “I think the doctors should take a look at your head.”

      “My head’s just fine,” Ace protested. “Call in Dr. Ramirez if you want,” Ace said stubbornly. “I’m not going to a damn hospital.”

      Considering the injection, Emiliano decided Ramirez was better than nothing, so he made the call. If Ace didn’t have a clear recollection of the events that landed him in the doorway, they needed to be sure he wouldn’t be dealing with any lingering side effects. “Why wasn’t Scrabble with you?”

      Ace smiled at the little dog resting her chin on his boot. “We’d gone out for a romp and I brought her in, gave her a treat.”

      “What time was that?” he asked.

      “Around two, I think. That’s normally when we go out.” Under his sandy eyebrows, his pale blue eyes shifted to Gordo. “Then this one went with me to the back pasture to check on the horses.” He took another pull on the water. “The tires on the driveway were too loud. Whoever it was came in too fast.”

      Emiliano checked the big clock over the archway between the great room and kitchen. It was a quarter past six, so Ace must have been out for the better part of four hours. It had been too dark for Emiliano to have seen any obvious skid marks in the gravel where the driveway split off to the offices. He’d have to take a closer look once Ace was steadier.

      * * *

      Marie couldn’t help feeling like an interloper, no matter that she was here at the FBI’s insistence. She wished there was something to do besides worry as the older man answered Emiliano’s questions.

      “The alarm sounded on your mother’s office. I remember running that way. The back door was open.” Ace rubbed his neck again. “A man stepped out, wearing some weird mustache mask thing.” He СКАЧАТЬ