Runaway Colton. Karen Whiddon
right time, he exhaled and went with it. “Your brother Fowler paid me a visit.”
A combination of distaste and pain reflexed back at him in her expressive eyes. “What did Fowler want?”
“He hired me to find you.”
She froze. “Do you think you might have mentioned that when I first contacted you?”
“I thought maybe we could talk first.”
Barely had he gotten the words out when she spun to take off. He grabbed her arm. “Wait...”
“Let me go or I’ll scream.” She spoke through clenched teeth.
“Please. Hear me out.”
“Release. My. Arm.” She spat. “You’re hurting me.”
That last did it. Even though he doubted his tight grip was painful, he let her go.
Of course she took off. A fast walk, then a jog. He hurried along right behind her. No one in the crowd waiting in line to enter the flea market paid them any attention—if they did, Cord figured they’d assume a lovers’ spat.
Piper’s jog became an all-out sprint. As he did the same, he couldn’t help but feel proud of her. She had no way to know he ran every morning. Or that he’d completed many marathons, too many to count.
Instead of catching her, he kept pace with her, keeping a few feet away. When she reached a white BMW, evidently her vehicle, she stopped and fumbled in her small shoulder bag for a key.
He made his move, stepping between her and the driver’s side door. “Ten minutes,” he said. “Just give me ten minutes of your time. I just want to talk.”
Gaze raking over him, she shoved her glasses back up on her nose and considered. “I don’t see what good that will do. If you’re working for Fowler, you can’t help me. Conflict of interest and all that.”
“Maybe I can do both,” he said. This got her attention.
“Fine. Ten minutes.” Unlocking her car, she gestured at him to get in. “Start talking.”
As he folded himself into the passenger seat, he realized she smelled like peaches. Which made him think of summer, his favorite time of the year. Biting into a plump, ripe peach with the juice running down his chin. And she, completely unaware of her appeal, eyed him with skepticism plain in every tense line of her body.
“I believe you,” he told her. “I remember when we were kids on the ranch. You wouldn’t even kill a bug.”
She nodded, but didn’t speak.
Neither did he. He could wait her out. Sam had drilled into him how patience solved more cases than anything else.
“But?” she finally prompted.
He hid his rueful smile. “When’s your court date?”
“I have no idea. My sister said she was told I’d get notice in the mail. She is going to hire an attorney to represent me.”
“Fowler said to tell you he’ll pay all your legal fees.” Might as well put that out there.
Her lovely eyes narrowed. “Why would he want to do that? He and Marceline made it clear they think I’m guilty.”
“I think Fowler feels bad. He paid me a lot of money to find you and bring you back home.”
Her pointed look told him what she thought about that. “And that’s your cue to get out of my car.”
“My ten minutes aren’t up yet,” he protested, keeping his tone light. “How about this. I’ll work with you to find out what really happened to Eldridge if you agree to go back with me before your hearing.”
“You want to make a deal?” The suspicion dripping from her voice made him smile.
“Yes.”
“How do you know you can trust me?”
“I knew you way back when,” he reminded her, even as he tried to reconcile the tomboy she’d once been with the confident and sexy woman sitting next to him. “I figure you couldn’t have changed too much.”
Head tilted, she considered him. “You know, despite your kind memories of me, I’m not at all like you apparently think I am. I’m not a saint.”
Her words brought a rush of selfish gladness, which he wisely kept to himself. It would be a sin to be a saint with a body like hers. “I never said you were.”
“Despite that, to be honest I wasn’t planning on skipping out on court. I wouldn’t do that to T.C., Reid and Alanna.”
“That’s what I thought.” He considered her right back, suppressing the tingle of desire he felt. “My suggestion is a win for both of us. I’ll help you investigate what really happened to Eldridge, and you can help me—” He stopped, unable to believe how close he’d come to telling her about Renee.
Of course she picked up on that. “Help you what?”
Should he? Why not. Like her, he had nothing to lose by telling her. “Since my sister died two years ago, I’ve been trying to raise my niece, Renee,” he said, keeping all emotion out of his voice. “She ran away a few weeks ago. I’ve been looking for her ever since.”
Piper swallowed. One corner of her sensual mouth quirked in the beginnings of a smile. “Without success?”
“Exactly.”
He could see her thoughts written plainly on her face. “I normally have a very high success rate. But just because I’m licensed as a private investigator and fugitive recovery specialist doesn’t mean I never run into trouble.”
“Good to know.” The ghost of a smile vanished before it ever actually came into being. He found himself wishing he could have seen it.
“Why not?” she finally said, apparently coming to a quick decision. Her lack of prevaricating was another trait he admired. “Sure, I’m in. I’ll help you find your niece and you help me learn the truth about what happened to Eldridge.”
He noticed again she didn’t say murder, which made him realize she truly didn’t believe her adoptive father was dead. The flicker of interest he had at the thought was the first he’d experienced in any case since Renee had disappeared. Worry and guilt had basically consumed him, blotting out the potential for anything else.
“Sounds good,” he managed, realizing he’d gone a bit too long lost in his thoughts. He held out his hand. “Partners?”
Without hesitation she shook. Once again, he felt that sizzle along his nerve endings and the touch of her fingers in his. Weird. But he could deal with it.
“Where are you staying?” he asked, now that they’d sealed the bargain.
“The Budget Inn off I-20.”
“Let’s go gather your stuff. You’re staying with me from now on.”
Arms crossed, she shook her head. “If you think that authoritative command is going to make me fall right in line with your plans, you’re dead wrong,” she drawled. “In fact, whenever someone tries to order me around, I want to do the exact opposite.”
A laugh escaped him; he couldn’t help it. “I like you,” he said, surprised.
“I’m reserving judgment until I know you better.” There it was again, the smile sneaking onto a corner of her mouth.
He found himself holding his breath waiting for it. When she looked down instead, he pushed away his disappointment. “Fair enough,” he said. “We’re a lot alike. I think we’ll get along just fine.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t sound too concerned. “Now I’m going to go back to the flea market and check it out. After that, I’ll think about considering your kind