Cold Case Colton. Addison Fox
trail for Annalise goes cold after she was spirited out of Russia and into Mexico. She was one of your mother’s.”
“How’s that even possible?” Although she had no doubt he believed what he said, Claudia knew there were holes in Hawk’s timeline. “My mother was convicted of prostitution here in the States.”
“But she had to have a pipeline of women.”
“A pipeline?” The tantalizing whisper that she might not actually be Livia Colton’s daughter faded at the reality of what Hawk suggested.
“One of your mother’s lines of business was human trafficking. It provided her ready supply of prostitutes. And her ring is known to have associated with the mail-order bride scammers, among others.”
“And you think this girl was one of hers?”
“Yes.”
“And you think she was in the early stages of pregnancy when she was enslaved into service to my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I can wrap my head around all of this, how would my mother steal her baby? Why would she even bother?”
“That’s for your mother to know.”
Claudia pulled into the parking lot of the small coffee shop that was their destination. While she couldn’t deny the sincerity of his story, or even the possibility that this young woman had come into her mother’s orbit, the leap to actually being this woman’s child was still shockingly large.
“Annalise gave birth twenty-six years ago. You’re twenty-six, aren’t you?”
“Along with a lot of other people. Yes, it’s a coincidence, but it still doesn’t mean anything.” She cut the ignition and turned to face Hawk. He’d kept that stoic calm throughout their discussion, but there was something in the depths of his vivid blue eyes that captured her. “What is it?”
“There’s one other thing you should know.”
Hawk reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He’d carefully placed an old, faded photograph in the folds of the leather. Her gaze caught on the image even before he handed it over.
But it was the blond hair and bright, vivid smile reflected back at her that had Claudia’s breath catching in her throat. It was like looking at a photo of herself.
“Who is this?”
“That’s Annalise Krupid.”
She was too calm about this. That was all Hawk could settle on as Claudia walked in front of him into the coffeehouse. There had been that one, lone eerie moment in the car when she’d held the photo, her gaze seeming to memorize the image of the woman, only to hand it back, her own face an impassive mask.
Had he gotten through to her?
The photo was hard to argue with—it had been the biggest connection he’d made once he’d seen a photo of Claudia on the Everything’s Blogger in Texas website and made the connection to his case—but it could still be dismissed.
Anything could be dismissed if you refused to believe.
He’d spent two very long years of his life reinforcing that fact. He’d spent the next two trying to do something about it. Regardless of how you handled things—or didn’t—life had a way of smacking you in the ass. And if you didn’t choose to fight against it, it would take you down right along with it.
He’d spent too long in the bottom of that well, helpless.
Hopeless.
Claudia seemed anything but as she placed her order, then turned to him expectantly. “What would you like?”
“Coffee. Room for cream, please.” He already had his wallet out and before she could protest, he added, “It’s the least I can do.”
“Guilt, Mr. Huntley?” She hadn’t said much since climbing out of the car, but he couldn’t fully dismiss the light tease beneath her words.
“Just my good old-fashioned Southern gentlemanly charm.”
“We’ll see about that.” She smiled before moving down to wait for her coffee at the bar.
Once again, he was struck by her beauty. More, by her presence. He’d seen it in the photo—a small one taken from a distance on the Everything’s Blogger post—but was even more captivated by the same since walking into her store. She looked like something out of a fashion magazine, yet as natural and real as the Hill Country that stretched out for miles.
It was a strange juxtaposition. Texas was known for its beautiful women—he’d been fortunate enough to marry one—but there was an artlessness in this woman that drew him in.
Hawk didn’t miss the way the barista looked at Claudia while he built her coffee, his gaze drifting toward her as he juggled the staring with the coffee making. And how could he blame the guy?
Her hair fell around her face in glossy waves and the outfit she wore seemed to highlight every single curve of her body. Even the summer heat that had followed them into the air-conditioned coffeehouse couldn’t wilt her.
How was it possible?
Livia Colton hadn’t managed to spoil her, either. Neither had living in one of the world’s largest cities, working in one of the world’s most competitive industries.
So how was it she could remain calm in the face of her possible parentage, as well? More, how would someone reach adulthood as one person and then just take it on faith when a total stranger suggested it had all been a lie?
He’d assumed she would rant and rail, fighting off his suggestion that she wasn’t Livia Colton’s daughter, but Claudia had been understanding, warm and downright casual about it all.
Had life with her mother been that hard?
Or maybe money went a long way toward paving the path to easy living?
Whatever he supposed, none of it would compare to the reality of growing up in the home of a life-long criminal whose network literally stretched across the globe.
Since making the connection on the Everything’s Blogger in Texas website, Hawk had spent quite a bit of time digging into the Colton family. Livia’s crimes were considerable, holding a candle to Matthew Colton, her serial killer brother. The man had reportedly said that the only person he feared on earth was his half sister Livia.
What did that say about the woman?
Hawk took his own coffee and moved to the small station by the door to doctor it to his preferences. The wide-open window showcased the main street of Whisperwood, its storefronts surprisingly similar to Shadow Creek. A few small shops. A general store. The post office which seemed to share space with a feed and seed.
Small-town Texas life at its very best.
The coffee shop sat at the end of that street. The papers scattered on the small tables nearby appeared well-read and the trash can next to the door was close to full. Coffee had clearly become a good business here in small-town Texas. Fortunately, the rush had died down, the midmorning timing working in their favor.
Claudia had chosen a table in the back, out of earshot of the waitstaff, and he headed in her direction. She’d settled into a fluffy armchair, her gaze focused on her oversize cup.
“This is a nice place.” He settled into an equally cushy chair. “Unexpected, but nice.”
“We could use one in Shadow Creek. The drive over isn’t bad, but I’d like to have my latte fix a bit closer.”
“Do you miss New York?” If it seemed like he was delaying the inevitable discussion, she didn’t appear to mind.
“Some