the truth. She was going to be a mother.
To a tiny, helpless baby who was going to be born fatherless.
The panic that had accompanied her at the news she was unexpectedly pregnant with Bo Gage’s child had changed to fierce protection when it became evident Bo wasn’t fit to be a parent. Heck, the man was barely fit to be an adult. His ethics were beyond shaky—a fact she’d discovered a few days before she was going to tell him about the baby. Instead of sharing the joyful news, they’d had a wicked fight that had driven Bo into Hayley Patton’s arms.
Or, at least, that’s what the town thought.
If anyone had bothered to ask her—and no one had since they were all too busy thinking she’d gone and offed the jerk—they’d have known that Bo had already spent more than a few evenings in Hayley’s bed. All while Demi had still blithely believed them to be a couple.
The lightest flutter rumbled in her belly and she pressed a hand there, amazed by the feeling.
Life.
Bo’s child.
Her child.
This baby was hers and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to protect him or her.
Which meant she had to stay on the run, continue to lie low and figure out how to get away from the roving eye of the law long enough to find out who really had it in for Bo. Because the roving eye of the law—one serious blue eye, in particular—certainly had it in for her.
Chief Finn Colton.
She’d always had a strained relationship with the various branches of her family. Her father, Rusty, wasn’t particularly tight with his two cousins, Fenwick and Judson, but they’d all seen to it that the Colton family populated Red Ridge in prolific fashion. Their grudging acceptance of each other had further ensured that their children hadn’t formed particularly close attachments to their cousins.
But even with that distance, it still hurt that Finn had zeroed in on her as one of his prime suspects.
Yes, the evidence looked bad. And, yes, she did have motive against Bo if you counted the jilted-lover routine. And she’d even accept that her experience as a bounty hunter gave her exposure to some of the more unsavory ways to live a life.
But, damn it, she didn’t kill Bo. Only now it was up to her to determine who did.
And why.
* * *
Finn Colton wasn’t a man who intimidated women. But in that moment, the color leeching from Darby Gage’s face as her blue eyes grew bigger and bigger, Finn knew he’d overstepped.
“You not only think I killed someone, but you think I enjoyed it? Enjoyed it so much I killed someone else?” Disbelief and a solid veneer of horror coated Darby’s words, reinforcing what a bastard he was.
But what about that bleach? And the fact that she’d inherited Bo’s home and business? She had no alibi he could verify for either murder and even less reason for inheriting the business.
None of which gave him the right to come into her home and intimidate her.
The near-empty container of bleach still hung from his fingers and he settled the bottle on a small end table at the edge of the couch. His gaze caught on Lotte’s when he did and he could have sworn he saw serious disappointment in her eyes.
Which was ridiculous.
The last time he checked, all his knowledge of canine learning and understanding did not extend to castigating humans for unspoken thoughts.
He could manage that damn well all by himself.
“It’s my job to consider all the angles.”
“You call stomping in here and accusing me of unspeakable things angles?” Where he’d expected her to rant and rail, the stiff shoulders and steady voice suggested something else.
Darby Gage was a woman who could handle crisis. More, she’d obviously had to somewhere in her past. “Chief Colton, am I under suspicion for murder?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“Of course.” Even though the color hadn’t returned to her features, her voice was pure steel.
“You are a suspect in the murders of Bo Gage and Michael Hayden.”
“Because I was in a will I had no clue I was a part of? And because I bought some cleaning supplies.”
“You had motive.”
“Not as far as I’m concerned. But even if I apply your logic to Bo, where do you get off accusing me of harming a man I never met?”
“There are any number of reasons.”
“No, there aren’t. Including the biggest, which is that I’m not a murderer.”
“So you keep saying.”
“If you think that, then I clearly need to get a lawyer.”
“Suspicion isn’t formal charges.”
“Then why do you keep coming to my home?”
Once again, he had to give her credit. She held her own. She’d gone toe-to-toe with Hayley and was standing firm with him. Heck, she’d even settled in with the dog, determined to take care of Penny despite the animal’s loyalty to Bo.
“I told you. I’m doing my job.”
“Then go do your job. Get out on the streets of Red Ridge and find a killer.”
Was he looking in the wrong place? Or was he so anxious to have some lead on the case he was willing to look anywhere? His gaze shot to the bleach once more before flicking back to Darby. “Why are you here?”
“Excuse me?”
“Bo’s house. His dog. You had a life and, by your own admission the other day, you moved on from your marriage. So why come here and pick up your ex-husband’s business?”
“Because there’s no one else to do it,” she snapped.
His interview with her on Saturday had nagged at him throughout the weekend. There was something about Darby Gage he couldn’t define, but couldn’t get out of his head. She was a combination of innocence and knowledge, and had become a complete puzzle to him.
“Hayley presumably would like the job.”
“Hayley wants the house. There’s the difference.”
“And you don’t?”
“I want stability and a future. And as of right now I don’t have either.”
The color had returned to her cheeks throughout their exchange, but at her last comment a flush crept up her neck. Was she embarrassed about something?
“I’d think moving out of your apartment into a home while also becoming a business owner would offer a considerable amount of stability and security.”
“It might have if Bo Gage had possessed a lick of sense.”
Although he wasn’t proud of his behavior, Finn was pleased to see that he’d made a dent in her armor. “That wasn’t a particularly big secret around town.”
“I suppose not.” She took a seat at the small drop-leaf table that sat up against the kitchen window overlooking the backyard. The stiff set of her shoulders loosened, like a balloon deflating, as her gaze drifted toward the yard. “Other than a love for his dogs and a roving eye, I’m not sure the man had much to show for his life.”
“He seemed to think it was a good life. I’d only met Bo a few times but I work with his brother and sister. Bo came around to visit them a few times and he was always a jovial sort.”
“He lived life to the hilt.” Darby pulled her gaze from the window, a sad haze dulling that