Colton's Surprise Heir. Addison Fox
“It’s still something.”
Lizzie stood framed inside the doorway, long, curly waves of hair framing her face, and he stilled. Since he’d seen her the morning before, his emotions had roller-coastered through the ups and downs of his new reality.
Yet here she was. Standing in the doorway of their child’s room, a warrior goddess prepared to do battle to protect her home. He saw no fear. Instead, all he saw was a ripe, righteous anger, spilling from her in hard, deep breaths.
“Maybe you should sit down?”
“I’m too mad to sit.”
“Once again, I’m forced to ask the obvious. Humor me.”
He reached for the window, but she stopped him. “Leave it. It’s not that cold, and maybe there are fingerprints.”
Although he had no doubt the perp had left nothing behind, Ethan did as she requested. She’d already taken a seat in the rocking chair in the corner, and he felt his knees buckle at the image that rose up to replace her in his mind’s eye.
Lizzie, rocking in that same chair, their child nestled in her arms, suckling at her breast.
The shock of emotion that burrowed beneath his heart raced through him, and Ethan fought to keep any trace of it from showing. How could he feel so much joy at something so unexpected?
At something he’d never wanted?
He’d grappled with that fact from the very first moments with Lizzie the morning before in his kitchen and had yet to find any answer.
Yes, she carried his child. And yes, that had raised a protective instinct he never knew he possessed. But it was something more. Something deeper.
He’d spent his entire adult life avoiding entanglements, so the depth of how far he and Lizzie were now entwined should have been a concern. So how come he wasn’t feeling more restrained? He should feel as if he had a noose notched against his throat, but instead, these weird moments of excitement broke over him, swamping him in a confusing mix of protectiveness and desire.
The sound of sirens broke through his thoughts, and he grasped at the intrusion like a lifeline. He needed to get out of his head and focus on the issue at hand.
Lizzie was in danger.
The anger that had ridden her cheeks had faded, leaving her face pale, her green eyes wide. She was scared—more than she’d likely admit—and it broke his heart that she had to deal with something like this.
“Rest a minute. I’ll go meet them at the door.”
* * *
A lifetime spent around law-enforcement professionals had given Ethan a wary level of respect for them. Anyone who put their life on the line for the safety of others would always have his admiration.
But he sure as hell didn’t trust them.
Cops saw too much. Listened too much. And, at times, drew conclusions where there were none. The two cops currently sitting at Lizzie’s kitchen table fell firmly in the latter category.
After a quick look in the baby’s room and a series of innocuous questions, Officer McNulty dived in. Ethan pegged him for about a quarter century on the force and a know-it-all, and he wasn’t disappointed.
“Miss Conner. How long have these incidents been going on?”
“They started a few months ago at work. I gave all these details to Detective Bell when I filed a complaint a few weeks ago.”
McNulty kept his smile broad, but his implacable tone never wavered. “And we appreciate that. But Officer Warren and I would like to get a sense for ourselves.”
Lizzie walked through the same details she’d provided Ethan with the day before. By the time she got to the rattle incident, she was visibly shaken.
Ethan laid a hand over hers and didn’t miss McNulty’s pointed stare at the protective gesture. He leveled one of his own on the cop and was pleased to see the man look away first.
He might have an appreciation for the law, but he refused to be cowed by it.
McNulty turned things over to his partner, and the broad smile indicated Officer Warren was clearly playing good cop today. He took a softer tack, starting with nice, easy questions about the baby and when it was due. Sweet comments designed to put Lizzie at ease. From the hard flex of her hand beneath his fingers, Ethan knew the officer’s questions had done anything but.
“You say these incidents have been going on about two months now?”
“Yes.”
“That’s also about the time the Alphabet Killer began his rampage.” Warren lobbed that bomb across the table, and Ethan picked it up without a second thought.
“Granite Gulch is clear across Blackthorn County.”
“Yes, Mr. Colton.” Warren’s smile sharpened, a wolf under those sheep’s clothes. “A place your family is well acquainted with.”
“Granite Gulch is my home. My family’s home.”
“It was your father’s home, too.”
The barb hit its mark, and Ethan fought showing any response beyond irritated boredom. “My father’s home is a maximum-security prison, Officer. What’s your point?”
“I’m sure you know.”
“And I’m quite sure I don’t.”
Officer McNulty chose that moment to step in. “Surely you’re well aware of the rumors about your sister, Mr. Colton.”
“The ones that claim my youngest sister has taken up my father’s mantle, killing victims with his same pattern? That rumor, Officer?”
“One and the same.”
“Josie’s innocent!” The words spilled from Lizzie’s lips, her cry echoing around the kitchen and startling them all from the impasse that was quickly brewing.
“Do you know something, Miss Conner? Something that can help the police find whoever is responsible for these murders?”
Lizzie set her jaw, conviction shining from the very depths of her eyes. “Only that it’s not Josie. I know it’s not. She’s not capable of it.”
“People are capable of any number of things, Miss Conner,” Officer McNulty said before standing.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the coffee. Officer Warren and I will be in touch.”
Ethan squeezed Lizzie’s hand, a silent order to stay put, and walked the officers to her front door. “Thank you for coming.”
Officer McNulty took one last glance around the living room before turning his direct stare on Ethan. As the action was meant to intimidate, Ethan simply stood taller, the scrutiny something he’d lived with his entire life.
“Keep an eye on her, Mr. Colton.” McNulty touched the tip of his hat.
The surprising shot of compassion when he’d only expected censure had Ethan nodding, his voice gruff. “Count on it.”
The two officers stepped through the door and Ethan closed it firmly behind them, flipping the locks. Their discussion with the cops continued to roll through his mind on a loop, and he struggled with the way the conversation had shifted from a faceless intruder to his sister.
Josie had been gone for so long. They’d all looked for her, unwilling to give up hope they’d find her, but after repeated disappointment he and his siblings had made a pact to do their best to preserve their sanity. Her disappearance had taken another piece of each of them, carving away what emotional protection each had created after their mother’s death and Matthew’s conviction.
It