Colton's Deadly Disguise (The Coltons 0f Mustang Valley Book 7)
For an undercover duo,
investigating a beauty pageant turns ugly.
When Bella Colton undergoes a makeover to enter a beauty pageant, she’s on a mission. She’s determined to find out why her best friend died. Enter undercover FBI agent Holden St. Clair. Holden’s hot on the heels of a serial killer, who has Bella in his crosshairs. As the chemistry between Bella and Holden sparks, can they capture the murderer in their midst?
“Now you’re frowning, Holden.” He liked how his name sounded on her lips. Crisp but with a loving roll to it.
“I’m thinking I may owe you an apology.”
“Why is that? Are you done?” She nodded at his empty plate, then carried it to the sink when he raised his hands.
“Thanks.” He grabbed their mugs and glasses and set them on the counter. “Breakfast was delicious.”
“You’re welcome.” She pulled out latex gloves and he took them from her.
“I’ll clean up. You cooked, you’re done.”
“It’s not necessary—”
“Please.” He didn’t budge, didn’t let his gaze drift to where the tank top bared her shoulder and the lone angel drawn on it. An angel the size of a tiny fairy rested on her golden skin, its pink wings and hair unmistakably feminine.
“Fine. But tell me why you’re so against reporters while you clean up.”
She was so close, her scent teasing him as it had last night. Washing dishes was going to be his most difficult task to date on this case.
At least it kept his hands busy...and off Bella.
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Book Seven of The Coltons of Mustang Valley
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Dear Reader,
It’s a delight to welcome you back to Mustang Valley with Colton’s Deadly Disguise and the thrilling ride journalist Bella Colton and FBI agent Holden St. Clair take us on! Well, with a little help from a scary possible serial killer, and the overriding danger that’s sweeping Mustang Valley these days. You know, the usual great elements that are in every Harlequin Romantic Suspense.
Bella and Colton’s story was so fun to write. The fact that it takes place during the Ms. Mustang Valley pageant makes it all the more intriguing—what kind of killer goes after pageant contestants? And more importantly, will Bella and Colton be able to catch their breath long enough to realize their sizzling chemistry might be something more?
I’m so happy to be part of another Harlequin Romantic Suspense Coltons series. I also appreciate any chance I have to connect with you, the best reader ever.
Please visit my website and sign up for my newsletter and site news. You can find me on social media, too.
Happy reading!
Peace,
Geri
GeriKrotow.com
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COLTON’S DEADLY DISGUISE
Geri Krotow
Former naval intelligence officer and US Naval Academy graduate Geri Krotow draws inspiration from the global situations she’s experienced. Geri loves to hear from her readers. You can email her via her website and blog, gerikrotow.com.
Books by Geri Krotow
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
The Coltons of Mustang Valley
Colton’s Deadly Disguise
The Coltons of Roaring Springs
Colton’s Mistaken Identity
Silver Valley P.D.
Her Christmas Protector
Wedding Takedown
Her Secret Christmas Agent
Secret Agent Under Fire
The Fugitive’s Secret Child
Reunion Under Fire
Snowbound with the Secret Agent
The Coltons of Red Ridge
The Pregnant Colton Witness
The Coltons of Shadow Creek
The Billionaire’s Colton Threat
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
To Alex
It’s such a joy to see the thoughtful, compassionate man you’ve become.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Excerpt from Colton Cowboy Jeopardy by Regan Black
Chapter 1
Isabella Colton pulled up to Mustang Valley High School fighting a sense of urgency that wasn’t usually her gig. Normally she absorbed every mile of scenery as she drove between her home nestled on the outskirts of Mustang Valley and into the town proper. Saguaro cacti sprinkled spots of green across the southeastern Arizona desert; many of the desert flowers were abloom, their hues of fuchsia, crimson and cream a stark contrast to the constant cactus green. But she’d noticed none of them today, and barely even registered the way the deep blue sky contrasted with the pale coral, violets and browns that made up the sandstone horizon.
Why, when she’d finally settled into her career as a journalist, was she all of a sudden feeling so stressed? Was it because she knew so much was riding on this assignment? Or the fact that she’d deliberately lied to her triplet brothers—Spencer, a Mustang Valley PD sergeant, and Jarvis, a businessman currently working as a ranch hand—when they’d asked why she couldn’t meet them today for lunch.
Could it be because you’re going against every principle you hold closest to your heart?
Maybe. Choosing to sign up as a contestant in the Ms. Mustang Valley Pageant was certainly out of her wheelhouse. As in, out in space from her true beliefs. But she was willing to do whatever it took to get the story, this story, right.
She’d been a reporter for the Lifestyle section of the Mustang Valley Gabber for over three years. It was time to break out, to write about subjects she was passionate about. More than anything, Bella longed to get to the truth of life, subject by subject. This was who she was, and she’d known it ever since she’d lost her parents when she was ten years old. There were a lot of things she couldn’t control in life, but when she could, she wanted to get to the bare facts.
Since she’d accepted that reporting was her talent, she didn’t want to waste another minute on articles that no longer interested her. It wasn’t fair to her readers or to her. She’d written enough lifestyle and fashion pieces for the Gabber to last her lifetime.
It was time to make a change. Bella wanted to make a difference.
For years, she’d had to watch her best friend, Gio, do everything to fit what she believed to be the pageant lifestyle; from starving herself to paying thousands of dollars she didn’t have for unnecessary collagen and Botox injections that began in her early twenties. Last year, Gio paid the final, irrevocable price when she died due to malnut
rition and other effects of her eating disorders. At first glance, deciding to enter the exact culture that had killed Gio seemed counterintuitive. But not when she reminded herself why she was doing this—to out the people who had killed her best friend.
Bella needed the inside dirt on this pageant, and the only way to catch this fly would be with a generous dollop of honey, according to what Gio had told her over the six months before her death, just under a year ago.
Heartache mingled with grief at the reminder of Gio’s death and Bella’s irretrievable loss. Tears swelled and blurred the view of where the Arizona horizon and blue sky met in Mustang High School’s parking lot. Bella’s heart constricted at the natural beauty she and Gio had often shared on long hikes through the desert, or to the local lake, next to an abandoned silver mine that they both loved so much. Until Gio’s disease weakened her too much to make the treks. Gio’s precipitous demise had been a shock, the years of illness finally ending her too-short life.
Bella owed it to Gio and every woman. Too many, including Gio, had suffered from the constant dieting and negative body image that pageants—and society as a whole—had so vilely infected them with. Bella owed it to them to expose the people and institutions that perpetuated their suffering. While she couldn’t go after the entire pageant industry, she was able to delve into Ms. Mustang Valley, where Gio’s problems, according to her friend, had all began. If she could keep this in mind, instead of her constant grief for her bestie, she’d get this assignment right.
What hurt the most right now was that all Gio had wanted from this particular pageant was the scholarship prize to Mustang Valley Community College. Gio would never go to school again, ever.
“Stop this right now. Pull it together, Colton.” She flipped the decrepit old station wagon’s visor down to use the mirror and dabbed at her tears, grateful she’d chosen the makeup with a waterproof label on it. She bolstered her spirits by sniffing the inside of her wrist, where she’d applied her favorite perfume. The soothing floral scent was a signature Parisian brand she’d noted on Kristi Sparkle, the supermodel who’d passed through Mustang Valley just a few weeks ago. It had been a fun gala at Mustang Valley town hall, where Bella had been able to interview the not-yet-thirty-year-old woman for a good fifteen minutes. It had made Bella grateful that in all of her thirty-one years she’d never held a job that required her to be anyone but herself. And while she’d maintained her weight she worked hard to do it. Healthy eating and lots of physical activity. Except when she had a pressing deadline, when Bella’s coworkers knew to stay out of the line between her and the chocolate-chip cookies at the local bakery.
Bella’s job as a journalist for the paper and blogger for its website afforded her an inside glimpse into the lives of the more affluent citizens of Mustang Valley, Arizona. It often put her in the position of experiencing events she’d only ever seen on television as a child. The only girl of three siblings, her first two decades had been tumultuous with Mom’s and Dad’s deaths when she and her brothers were only ten. Then, Aunt Amelia had raised them, but she never let them forget that she’d sacrificed the best years of my life to do so.
It’d taken a while for Bella to let go of the guilt her relief at Aunt Amelia’s passing ten years ago had caused. At twenty-one, Bella hadn’t comprehended that her sense of relief was absolutely normal.
Her professors at Arizona State had expressed their sympathy and compassion for her loss, for not having a parental figure at her graduation the following May. But to Bella, Aunt Amelia’s death had been when her true life began. When she was able to make her own decisions without the looming negative comments Aunt Amelia doled out like thistles on a hiking trail. Those thorns were able to sneak into the oddest places such as the sole of a shoe or inside the back of a shirt; their sting was always guaranteed.
“Okay. You’ve got this.” She spoke to her reflection, popped the visor back up and got out of the car. It’d been thirteen years, but MVHS still had the aura of countless life lessons about it, including when she’d tried to sneak a cigarette in the girls’ restroom and skipped out on lunchtime. In both instances her nemesis Mrs. Maple had caught her and none-too-compassionately marched her down to Principal Kenner’s office. Bella grinned, remembering the expression on Aunt Amelia’s face when she’d been called in over Bella’s truancy. It’d only been over one lunch period, to get a tattoo with her best friend. Bella reached up to rub her shoulder for good luck, where the small angel rested, but stopped herself. She’d put professional concealer over the symbol of her friendship with Gio, as the Ms. Mustang Valley Pageant did not allow visible tattoos. Bella sniffed. Another good reason to eschew the event.
You’re doing this for Gio.
The building itself had undergone a recent facelift; bright teal roofing and matching painted trim stood out against the dark bricks and highlighted the elegance of the grand dame of Mustang Valley. Originally the town market during the mid-nineteenth century, the building had been expanded upon and modernized over the last century and a half. It truly was a beautiful piece of Mustang Valley charm. Had she really managed to avoid this place for the better part of ten years?
Bella teetered on the kind of espadrille wedges she probably hadn’t worn since high school, either. She bent down to tighten the ankle strap, not needing to make a fool of herself by twisting an ankle before she even submitted her application.
Today was the last day to enter the competition. A quick glance at her phone confirmed that she had a full fifteen minutes to turn in her application with attached résumé, photos and birth certificate. A certificate she’d thought long and hard about forging, but would it really gain her the edge she desired? She was well within the eighteen-to-thirty-five-year-old limit. She’d been working for the Mustang Valley Gabber long enough. It’d been Bella’s goal for the last couple of years to move out of the Gabber and get to a bigger news outlet. If she were ever to be the kind of reporter she believed she could be, this was her most realistic chance.
She had to convince the pageant board that she wanted to do this, for real.
The front entrance of the school was clean and bright, as she always remembered. The relentless Arizona sun beat on her shoulders, bared by the strapless red-and-white-striped top she’d chosen to go with the white capri pants. The outfit was totally out of character for Bella; she preferred simple lines, be it in jeans or a sundress. But she had to come across as a serious contestant, and that meant she had to scream “glamour.” She’d even had red highlights woven into her ash-blond locks, something she’d never considered previously. Tattoos, piercings, sure, but her hair was something she’d never dyed before. To her initial chagrin, the highlights had blended into her hair to make it all appear red, a strawberry blond shade. Gio had had red hair, and Bella decided her matching color was a good-luck charm from beyond. Tears again threatened and she sniffed them away, lifted her chin and straightened her spine.
Bella opened the school’s front door and walked into the lobby.
She gave herself a moment to take it all in. A lot had changed over the past several years. The first thing her gaze landed on was a metal detector, but before she could assess the rest of the entrance she was stopped by a police officer.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I need to see inside your bag.” The man was tall and fit, not unlike Spencer. Dark hair, and what looked like even darker eyes but she couldn’t be sure as they were downcast, his gaze following his hand as he moved a stick through her large white leather designer bag. As he searched, she checked his name badge to ask Spencer about him later. Or, maybe strike a conversation now. She was on the clock as far as her undercover report was concerned.
He didn’t have a name badge, and a closer look revealed he wasn’t MVPD at all but rather, private security. The dark blue uniform was so similar in appearance to Mustang Valley PD’s that it was an easy mistake to make.
“I thought MVPD had an officer he
re at all times.” As soon as she spoke her mind she wanted to bite her tongue. She was here on an undercover assignment. Not the time to reveal her knowledge of the local community. Be a pageant contestant, not a blogger.
“When the students are present, yes, they do. But not during weekends and spring break. I’m pageant security.”
“Oh.” She looked at him and wished she had some handy banter. He was undeniably attractive, but with an air of stiff reserve. She opened her mouth to start a friendly conversation but he wasn’t interested.
“Name?” Cold brown eyes assessed her and she stiffened, fighting the urge to take a step backward. An aura of authority exuded from this man and she couldn’t help but wonder if he did something else.
“There’s not a visitors’ list—no one knows I’m entering.” She wasn’t about to be intimidated.
He held up a handwritten logbook. “I’m required to enter each name, for the pageant authorities to verify that they have received every application.”
“Isabella Colton.” His heavy, albeit well-sculpted, brows didn’t budge from their place that reflected his intense focus as he wrote her name on what looked like maybe the twentieth line on the page.
Bella ignored her anxiety over how many contestants there might be. More would be better, as it would allow her to blend in more readily. If there were only twenty, she’d have to work at participation while gathering information for her report.
“ID?” He held out his hand without looking back up. She retrieved her Arizona driver’s license, placed it carefully on his palm.
“Is this a part-time thing for you?” She smiled as she imagined a beauty contestant would, fluttered her lashes, ignored the two that stuck together. This glamour gig was not as easy as it had looked in the several pageants she’d studied online during her preliminary research. Her research yielded enough ammunition to warrant her entering the pageant. Of all the Arizona pageants, the Ms. Mustang Valley competition reflected the highest number of winners who’d later admitted to having mental illness, an eating disorder, or both. Most had gone public with their struggles once their year’s reign was up, in order to both keep their scholarship intact, yet also provide public outreach to young women who found themselves in the grips of the same vicious diseases.