Debra Webb

Colby Conspiracy


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But James Colby was unknown to Emily, as was Victoria Colby.

      Why on earth would her father have kept someone else’s letters?

      Too tired and emotionally drained to ponder the question any longer, Emily replaced the false bottom and stacked all the papers, including the bundle of letters, inside the safe box. There were probably lots more things she would discover among her father’s belongings that didn’t make sense to her. After all, it had been many years since she’d lived in this house or been a significant part of his life.

      Everyone had their secrets, but her father had always been a straightforward kind of guy. She couldn’t imagine him having any deep, dark secrets that would hurt anyone or even disrupt anyone’s life.

      A bunch of old letters addressed to people she didn’t even know was the last thing she needed to worry about right now. Her father was dead.

      She had to do right by him. Taking care of his affairs was the last thing she could do for him; that task had to be her main focus.

      What possible difference could letters nearly two decades old make now?

       CHAPTER SIX

      FIVE O’CLOCK HAD come and gone before Victoria had found time to review the day’s Tribune. Some days were like that, one meeting or conference call after the other. She didn’t actually mind. The flurry of activity meant that the Colby Agency continued to thrive. Victoria had worked hard for nearly two decades to carry on what her husband had started. Having her son returned to her last year had made all the hard work and sacrifice worth it.

      She had kept alive the legacy of Jim’s father. Jim would carry on with the same.

      Victoria’s brow furrowed with remembered worry. Jim hadn’t come in today. He usually called when he planned to take a day off. But today he hadn’t. She hadn’t heard from Tasha, either.

      Months and months of therapy had brought a semblance of normalcy to Jim’s life. He’d adjusted extremely well, in Victoria’s opinion. But it was hard work and there had been times during the past year when failure had loomed. Somehow her son, showing the true strength he’d inherited from his father, had overcome his weaknesses and the extensive brainwashing he’d suffered.

      Victoria pressed the intercom button. “Mildred, would you see if you can reach Jim or Tasha for me, please?”

      “Certainly, Victoria.”

      Victoria stared at the silent intercom for a time after she’d instructed her personal secretary to make the call. That was another part of the past that was over now. Mildred and her niece, Angel, had been saved from the evil the Colbys’ archnemesis had wielded.

      Leberman.

      Victoria couldn’t recall how many months it had been since she’d thought of that heinous name. The bastard had died last October, but his devilish machinations had continued for months afterward. The ordeal finally culminated in the world being rid of those who’d conspired with Leberman to ruin the Colbys.

      Despite having lived through that nineteen-year nightmare, it still seemed impossible to Victoria that one man could harbor such immense hatred toward another.

      “Victoria, I’m not getting an answer. Shall I keep trying?” Mildred’s voice floated from the intercom, tugging Victoria from the troubling memories.

      She pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment before making a decision. “That’s all right, Mildred. I’ll try from home later.”

      Victoria turned her attention back to the newspaper and attempted to put her concerns about her son and his fiancée out of her mind. It was possible that Jim had had an appointment today that Victoria had forgotten. Tuesday was Tasha’s usual day off. Perhaps she was overreacting.

      She unfolded the paper on her desk and spread it open. A quick scan of the major headlines before turning the page drew her up short. She dropped the page into place and let her gaze zero in on one particular news article.

      Local Homicide Detective Murdered.

      Victoria read the accompanying story, regret churning in her stomach.

      Carter Hastings…

      What on earth?

      The name swept her back nineteen years as easily as Leberman’s had…back to the night she had realized her son would not be found in the woods near their home. He was gone, had vanished, seemingly into thin air.

      Homicide Detective Hastings had shown up at her door and Victoria had fallen apart. She had not wanted to believe that her son might be dead, but obviously Chicago PD had considered that possibility.

      Hastings and his partner, Madelyn Rutland, had worked hard to prove Victoria’s son had merely wandered off or perhaps had been abducted by someone who wanted a son of their own. Everyone at Chicago PD had wanted to help the Colbys overcome their tragedy. The Colby Agency had already earned a respected place amid local law enforcement. No one wanted to see Victoria’s family suffer.

      But there had been nothing anyone could do. The vile bastard Leberman had been behind little Jimmy’s abduction. And it would be eighteen long years before Victoria would know what really had happened.

      Just three years after that horrific tragedy, Victoria’s husband had been murdered, and Carter Hastings had once more come back into her life. He had insisted on being the lead investigator. She would never forget the way he comforted her and worked diligently to bring James’s murderer to justice. But Carter had been searching for a ghost…a man more elusive than he could have imagined. Still, she had appreciated all his hard work and his endless emotional support.

      The time between Jim’s abduction and James’s murder still carried a measure of guilt for Victoria. Hers and James’s relationship had not been the same after their son went missing. They’d struggled to hold things together those final three years, but it hadn’t been easy. For years after James’s death, she had worried that she should have done more to make things right between them, but she just hadn’t been able to get past the pain. Living with the reality that she might never see her son again, that he was likely dead, had been too monumental a burden to allow her to contend with anything else—even her beloved husband’s needs.

      Lucas had helped her to get past those haunting months and years. He’d reminded her over and over how much James had loved her, how very well he had known that she loved him. The loss of a child brought hardship upon even the best marriage. Maybe that’s part of what had made Victoria fall in love with Lucas. Or maybe she’d been a little bit in love with him from the very first time she’d ever met him.

      A wistful smile tugged at her lips. No matter the harsh realities of her past, her life was wonderful now. She had her son back and the man she loved beside her.

      That nagging feeling she’d suffered last night at the gala filtered into her thoughts.

      Victoria shoved it aside. She refused to be plagued by worry any longer. She had worried enough in the past for a dozen lifetimes.

      This was her time. She deserved this happiness and she would not waste any of it borrowing trouble.

      She picked up the phone and put through a call to Chicago PD. Carter Hastings had been incredibly helpful to her all those years ago. The least she could do was offer whatever help her agency might be able to provide for him.

      “Chief Holmes, this is Victoria Colby.” She listened as the chief of Chicago’s homicide division parlayed the usual pleasantries. “Yes, it was good seeing you and Karen at the gala last night.”

      Chief Marvin Holmes reiterated how no one he knew was more deserving of the honor of Woman of the Year than Victoria. She appreciated the sentiment. “Thank you, Chief. I was actually calling about this terrible news I’ve just read in today’s paper about Detective Hastings.”

      Victoria’s posture stiffened at the abrupt change in the chief’s tone. It was as if the call had suddenly been diverted to some other office