Jane Godman

Colton 911: Family Under Fire


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is not about us. Kennedy needs a family. Today, a twist of fate made us her mom and dad. I’ll do whatever it takes.” She gave him a direct stare. “I took a couple of days leave of absence to come here and I’m going to email the principal of my school in the morning and request maternity leave.”

      There was a challenge in the words. Over to you.

      He held her gaze for a moment or two before looking down at the beer in his hand. And that was what she had expected. Professionally, he was razor-sharp and one of the most successful agents in his field office. In his private life, Everett didn’t do tough decision making. Keep it comfortable or walk away. During their relationship, he had never deviated from that rule.

      “You’re sure I can’t tempt you to try a slice of pepperoni with extra anchovies?”

      Ignoring the deliberate attempt to distract her with the tried-and-tested pizza line he’d always used, she forced the conversation back on track. “As far as our living situation goes, this place probably isn’t ideal. But with the holidays coming up, I think we have to make the best of it for now.”

      “You mean we take turns to breathe?”

      “I’d forgotten what a funny guy you are, Colton.” She pulled a face at him. “I mean we make this a nice home for Kennedy, and we give her a family Christmas.” She frowned. “Her first Christmas.”

      Everett was silent for a moment or two. When he spoke again, there was a new tone in his voice. “I came back to Cactus Creek to investigate a murder. Pierce Tostig was a ranch hand at Selectman Clarence Edison’s OverHerd Ranch. Casey was investigating a rustling case and he found the body near the corpse of one of the stolen cows. Sean, Delilah and Georgia were behind the operation, and confessed their involvement in Tostig’s death when they cornered Casey and another of Edison’s ranch hands, Melody Hayworth, at gunpoint. Luckily, Melody—who is now Casey’s girlfriend—made an SOS call and I was able to track their location. I arrived with a team of agents in time to arrest the rustlers.”

      “So when he died, Sean was awaiting arraignment for a potential murder charge as well as cattle rustling?”

      “That’s right.” His face was turned slightly away from her, but she could see the tension in the fine muscles of his jaw. “He rammed that fancy car of his right into a wall, killing himself and Delilah rather than face prison. At least that’s what the suicide note that was taped to the dash said.” She noticed his fist clench tight against his thigh. “There was just one small problem with that note.”

      Alyssa waited. They weren’t touching, but she could feel the emotion coursing through him. When he looked up, the pain in his eyes made her breath catch.

      “It wasn’t in Sean’s writing.”

      “Could Delilah have written it?” she asked.

      Slowly, he shook his head. “I compared it to samples of Delilah’s writing, as well. Neither of them wrote that note.”

      Kennedy woke up just after Everett told Alyssa about the suicide note, and he was glad for a break so he could rein in his emotions. Although he had submitted a report to his senior special agent expressing his opinion that Sean and Delilah’s deaths were suspicious, he had not yet been given the go-ahead to officially investigate further.

      As he cleared away the remnants of the takeout meal, he watched Alyssa with the baby. Kennedy got more food on her face and bib than she did in her mouth, but she appeared to enjoy holding her own spoon and hammering out a drumbeat on the tray of her high chair. When she was finished, Alyssa deftly wiped her down and scooped her up. The little girl chuckled delightedly.

      “She needs to get into a bedtime routine.” She looked across at Everett. “How about we do bath time together?”

      “You mean just you and me in the tub, right? Because I’m not sure I’m ready for the three of us.” Alyssa gave an outraged snort and he held up his hands. “I’m new to this parenting thing, remember?”

      She quirked an eyebrow at him, letting him know he wasn’t fooling anyone. “I’ll get her bath ready.”

      Seconds later, his arms were full of warm, wriggling baby. Kennedy gave a delighted squeal as she tried to poke a finger up his nose.

      “Hey.” He caught hold of her hand. “I think you and I should establish a few ground rules. Firstly… Whoa! What is that smell?”

      It was like a combination of bad eggs and rotting garbage. He regarded the baby with suspicion. Surely that aroma couldn’t be coming from such a cute little body? As if to confirm his worst fears, Kennedy’s stomach gave a loud gurgle. It was instantly followed by a series of popping sounds in the diaper region. The smell grew stronger.

      He held the little girl at arm’s length. “Alyssa?”

      She emerged from the bathroom with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. “Yes?”

      “I think there’s something wrong with Kennedy.”

      Coming to the sofa, she leaned over his shoulder. Kennedy greeted her with an aimless wave and a fresh volley of stinky blasts.

      “What makes you think that?”

      Was it possible Alyssa had lost her sense of smell in the time they’d been apart? “Are you serious? I’ve supervised a drunk tank full of men who have spent a night consuming Mexican food and cheap beer. It didn’t come close to that level of toxicity.”

      Alyssa laughed. “Her digestive system is immature and she’s still adjusting to solid food. A little gas is hardly surprising.”

      She headed back into the bathroom.

      “A little gas?” Everett studied Kennedy’s face. “I dread to think what you can achieve when you decide to fill a diaper.” She gave him a cheeky grin. “That wasn’t a challenge.”

      A few minutes later, the complex preparations were complete. There was a brief power struggle when Kennedy seemed to feel that parting with her clothing was unnecessary. Everett watched in admiration as Alyssa won the battle with ease and placed the red-faced infant in the bathtub inside something that resembled a medieval torture device.

      “It’s a bathing seat,” she explained in response to his raised eyebrows. “It means she can sit up safely without slipping around. And we have our hands free to wash her.”

      It was yet another item on the growing list of “things Everett didn’t know about babies.” He wasn’t given any more time to ponder his inadequacies. Within seconds of Alyssa beginning to rub baby shampoo into Kennedy’s hair, most of the water had left the tub and was sloshing around on the floor.

      Washcloth in hand, Alyssa fought on, attempting to clean every part of the shrieking, laughing little girl while Everett helped hold her still. In the end, she turned to look at Everett. “I think she’s clean enough now. At six months, she’s not mobile enough to get really grubby.”

      “Shouldn’t you at least try to wash the, uh, delicate parts properly?” Everett wiped soapy water off his face and plowed back into the fray. “They get the dirtiest, after all.”

      Although she was giving him a look of dislike, he couldn’t help noticing the way Alyssa’s drenched blouse clung to her curves. He’d missed those curves.

      “You try.” She handed him the cloth and stepped back.

      Kneeling at the side of the tub, he approached with caution. Kennedy, clearly aware she was dealing with a rookie, waited until he got in close, then grabbed him by the hair.

      “This may be a two-person job, after all.” Alyssa came to his aid, freeing him from the chubby-fisted death grip.

      “I’ll lift, you clean.”

      To howls of protest