Colton's Deadly Disguise (The Coltons 0f Mustang Valley Book 7) Page 2

  The security guard cleared his throat and she all but physically shook her head.

  Worry about the research later. You’re a contestant right now.

  She still wasn’t certain about which talent she’d choose. It was a sad competition between oratory skills, i.e. reading a Samuel Clemens Langhorne or Mark Twain poem, or performing a Hula hoop routine she’d choreographed in seventh grade with Gio to their favorite bubblegum pop hit.

  He handed her ID and bag back, the tips of their fingers briefly making contact. “You can step through the metal detector now. The pageant committee is on the stage, in the theater, through the second doors on your right.” His deep voice revealed nothing but professionalism. The security dude wasn’t going to be an ally in her quest to uncover this pageant’s deepest secrets. At least she knew from the start. She wouldn’t waste any more energy on him. There were more important sources to mine.

  Bella walked under the metal frame and when the detector didn’t sound, she didn’t look back. Forward was the only direction to achieve some kind of justice for Gio.

  Wondering why the fleeting contact with this man moved her more than it should have wasn’t worth her time.

  Except, if she found out what else he did for a living, other than work as a pageant security guard, it might make an interesting side item for her investigative piece. She chuckled under her breath as she headed for the auditorium.

  * * *

  FBI Agent Holden St. Clair took a swig of water as he took his post offstage in the high school theater. The area between the side curtains allowed him to watch each contestant as they were interviewed, observe the pageant board members and keep an eye on the contestants who’d already been interviewed but now were seated on the stage, waiting until the entire process was over. The early birds got to see all of the interviews, which he supposed was some kind of pageant advantage. Holden didn’t care. His job was to keep the building secure. He’d gone back and forth between here and the school entrance for the last eight hours.

  It had been a long day.

  After all contestants had finished today they’d be asked to leave and then only the ones who received a callback would return tomorrow for the start of the pageant preparation.

  He’d had to stifle a laugh when his supervisor had told him he was assigned to work undercover at the Ms. Mustang Valley Pageant. His life experience to date included serving overseas while still in the army, and several different investigations as an FBI agent, including a few serial killer cases, not working as a security guard—even though he was hunting a murderer now.

  Something about Mustang Valley was bothering him, ever since he’d driven into the modest-size town. His assignment was straightforward: observe and protect the pageant from the possibility of a serial killer who’d struck at two previous pageants earlier this year in Arizona. He was doing this undercover, with minimal other Law Enforcement Agency, LEA, involvement for now. Besides the director of Arizona pageants, who’d hired him, Holden had an inside LEA connection in town: his army buddy Spencer Colton, who worked at Mustang Valley PD with his K-9 companion Boris. After he’d spoken to Spencer on the phone, they’d met up at a restaurant in Tucson, so that Holden’s cover as a security guard wouldn’t be compromised. Spencer had given him the scoop on Mustang Valley and in particular the high school’s blueprints, security footprint and the background on each of the Ms. Mustang Valley Pageant board members. The pageant board included Hannah Rosenstein, a MVHS Spanish teacher, Selina Barnes Colton—Colton Payne’s ex and a rabid socialite who frankly, from what he’d read, was going to be a real pain in the neck—and several local business owners. So far he’d not found any reason to suspect any of them of wrongdoing but it was his job to remain alert.

  Spending time with Spencer had been great and he’d been delighted to find out Spencer had fallen for a woman he planned to spend the rest of his life with. Spencer teased him, said Holden’s turn was coming. Holden blew off Spencer’s sentiments. After being so badly burned by his ex he had no room for anything more than short-lived hookups. Working a serial killer case left no time for that, either.

  As much as Spencer assured him that he’d be a perfect fit in Mustang Valley, and that the openness of the citizens would hopefully expose the killer sooner, Holden had been on edge ever since he’d driven into Mustang Valley’s historical downtown. Surrounded by so much Southwest American history, it was easy to forget he was here to investigate a serial killer who preyed upon beauty contestants, redheads in particular. So far all of the Ms. Mustang Valley contestants had been blonde or brunette, and he’d wondered if this pageant might escape the notice of the predator. Until Isabella Colton walked in with those red streaks in her hair. And green eyes, eyes he’d find attractive if he didn’t know they’d be like bull’s-eyes to the killer. Both of the previous victims had red hair, and green eyes.

  He made a mental note to let Spencer know that Isabella was applying to compete in the pageant. He assumed it was Spencer’s sister, Bella, that he’d talked about. While the Colton name was huge throughout the country, and especially in Mustang Valley, where one part of the family had made itself a billion-dollar oil empire, he doubted there were many Bella Coltons in this two-horse town. The pageant director, also a Colton, was a typical rich socialite, and he didn’t think she was a close relation to Spencer or his probable sister. Like any other large, extended family, the Coltons had many branches. Spencer was from a modest background, and had been quick to let Holden know it when they were serving together.

  “Thank you, Marcie.” The pageant committee chair dismissed the second-to-last contestant to make it in by the deadline. Isabella Colton was the only one who remained.

  He’d locked the front doors after scanning Isabella through security. All he had left to do today was observe as the last contestant hopefuls submitted their applications, and survived the board’s initial interview.

  It wasn’t an easy task to remain focused. Isabella Colton’s appearance made his gut tighten and put his instincts on high alert. Until the minute she walked through Mustang Valley High’s doors he’d been hopeful that he’d be able to move on to the next Arizona pageant, scheduled for Scottsdale next month. He knew the serial killer he was after had only ever murdered redheads.

  All hope that this pageant might be spared what two smaller towns in Northern Arizona had experienced—the brutal deaths of redheaded contestants—evaporated with the swoosh of the school’s front doors behind Isabella Colton.

  Holden wished for the first time in his career that he wasn’t undercover. That he could snap his fingers and be the real Holden, for just one conversation with the woman who’d just walked into Mustang Valley High School’s theater. To warn her away, to tell her that she should find another way to pay for her college or whatever she wanted to do with the winner’s prize. But he was undercover, and since his guise was a security guard, his job was to stay quiet and observe. Isabella Colton still had to pass the scrutiny of the pageant review board, so at least there was a chance she’d be turned away either for her age or an incomplete application. She didn’t look older than the thirty-five-year limit, but she wasn’t too young, either.

  “Isabella Colton?” Mimi Kingston, the pageant director, called out for the redhead and Colton couldn’t help but do his job thoroughly and make sure he had a good description of Ms. Colton in his mind. At the security checkpoint he’d been focused on the possibility of any of the contestants bringing in a weapon, checking to make sure they weren’t a potential suspect. He’d never investigated a female serial killer but the bureau had several over the years. It happened.

  “Bella?” Mimi squeaked out the second syllable, clearly surprised to see the other woman.

  “Surprises never cease in Mustang Valley. You know that, Mimi.” Bella placed her application packet on the table that was center stage before returning to the single chair, and sat. He didn’t see her ba
g; she must have left it in the theater seats. Since no one was left other than those onstage, all part of the pageant, it’d be secure. He was impressed. Bella Colton looked more put-together than the majority of the other contestants.

  Her golden-red hair was tied up behind her head in one of those fancy styles he’d only ever noticed in the movies. What caught his attention was the creamy pale skin of her nape, where a few wispy tendrils curled. Her top bared her shoulders, revealing a prominent but not unhealthy collarbone. His mouth moistened as his tongue practically experienced how smooth it’d feel under it.

  Holden bit down on said tongue and reminded himself he was on duty, and Bella Colton was most likely Spencer’s sister. Holden’s job was to protect the pageant, and if Bella was indeed his buddy’s sibling, it raised the stakes on this operation. Since Payne Colton had been targeted, no Colton was safe.

  He watched Bella cross her long legs at the ankles and rest her hands in her lap, her shapely knees fitting perfectly together. Her ankle-length pants were form-fitting and brokered no complaints from him. He liked that her nails were short, though painted bright red. Holden wasn’t a fan of those long, fake nails, and he wondered what Bella did when she wasn’t trying to rustle up a scholarship to Mustang Valley Community College.

  “Thank you for your application, Bella. We’re taking turns reviewing it.” Derek McDougal spoke up, the only male on the board. He rustled the second page. “I see you’re a Mustang Valley High graduate. So you’ve known about the pageant, as this is its thirtieth year.” He passed the application packet to the next board member. “While we’re reviewing everything to make sure you qualify, please tell us why you’re here.” Derek looked at Bella as though she were the canary and he the poised house cat.

  Holden’s sense went on high alert, as while McDougal didn’t appear to have any connection with the previous pageants and murders, he was an anomaly. Two of the committee members, the Spanish teacher and Selina Barnes Colton, had been involved with at least one if not both of the ill-fated pageants and while they were automatic suspects, the outliers had to be examined, too.

  “Certainly.” Bella beamed. If she noticed Derek’s leer she didn’t show it. “As most of you know, I’m a lifelong Mustang Valley resident. I’ve been lucky enough to go to college, where I received my bachelor’s in journalism. It’s there on my résumé.” She nodded at her application packet, which was being passed down the row of seven pageant board members. “I’ve fallen on hard financial times lately. I’d use the scholarship to MVCC to begin a new career that would have a more reliable income than freelance writing.”

  “But you’re employed by the Mustang Valley Gabber, aren’t you?” another board member called out. Holden made a mental note to check up on Bella’s supposed dire straits, but all thoughts screeched to a halt. Wait—Bella Colton was a reporter? His gut twisted and he knew his mouth probably did, too.

  Holden had nothing more than disgust for reporters. Not for the usual reasons he knew other agents detested the media. Holden’s distrust of reporters was very personal in origin, thanks to his last girlfriend, someone he’d thought might be with him for the long haul. Nicole, his ex, turned out to be dating him because she’d hoped to glean confidential information about the Coltons from him. This was last summer, when he’d investigated a crime in Roaring Springs, Colorado during its annual film festival. By the time the last film premiered, Nicole admitted her motive for wanting to wait all day in the hotel room for Holden. They were through. In the two years since, he’d dated on and off, but never anyone serious. And the bad taste in his mouth from being duped by a reporter had never washed away.

  “I still work at the Gabber, but it’s a modest wage, supplemented by freelance work that’s also been drying up. It’s time for me to face facts—I’ve got to find another type of job or starve.” Bella smiled as she continued the interview. Her entire face lit up and dang it, it ignited something deep inside his chest. Holden’s breath caught at the exquisite shade of peach on her cheekbones, the bright hue of her irises. But her green eyes didn’t sparkle to match the dazzling of her white smile. Instead, Holden had the oddest sensation that Bella Colton was in the midst of a huge act. And the board was her audience. But why?

  “With the scholarship to MVCC, I’d be able to become a nurse.”

  “The medical industry? A Colton?” Maeve Murphy, who’d worked as the school nurse for decades, spoke up.

  Bella’s foot began to shake at the end of her long, shapely leg, but her smile never faded, her chin remained uplifted. Holden gave her ten points for composure and the pageant had yet to begin, her application yet to be accepted.

  “I’m not clear on what being a Colton has to do with a career choice.” He heard the challenge in her tone even as she delivered her response so sweetly. It only served to make him admire her more. He really didn’t need to admire anyone right now, though, and definitely not a journalist. He was here to find a serial killer.

  You still have to live.

  Maeve’s plump face turned red. “It’s just that, you’re from a family of lucrative businesspeople. Why medicine, why now?”

  Bella leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with Maeve. “I’m sorry—I think you’re mistaking me for one of the other line of Coltons, the ones who own Rattlesnake Ridge Ranch and run Colton Oil. My brothers and I are from a different part of the family. In fact, I don’t even know most of my Colton cousins very well.” Her voice had turned to ice and Holden watched both her and the pageant committee’s expressions. Most of the people on the board were career educators, including Maeve, an RN. If Bella was in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, she, Spencer and Jarvis must have gone to school here while Maeve and the others were on staff. They had to know her and her brothers. He’d read that Mustang Valley had a population of ten thousand. In short, Maeve knew Bella and her brothers.

  And for some inexplicable reason, he was relieved to receive confirmation she wasn’t familiar with the larger branch of her family.

  A woman with pouffed-out brunette hair and large dangling earrings raised her heavily braceleted arm, waving at Maeve. “I can personally vouch for Bella and her desire to make something of herself. She’s a lifelong resident, as she’s stated, and her aunt raised her and her brothers after her parents’ deaths in an auto accident. Tragic, I tell you. Yet you’ve survived the odds and are here to present yourself as a contestant. And, may I add, Bella was the brightest student of her class when I had her. Brava.” Hannah Rosenstein nodded in encouragement toward Bella. Hannah was the school Spanish teacher and Holden had witnessed her vouch for exactly one other contestant, also a former student. If she said Bella was solid, he suspected the board would accept her application.

  “Muchas gracias, Señora Rosenstein.” Bella responded in a decent accent.

  Senora Rosenstein grinned. “De nada. It’s heartwarming to see you’ve remembered your Spanish.”

  Holden sat still until Bella’s interview was finished and she was released to leave the building. Only after she exited the auditorium’s back door did he stand and head for the back of the stage to begin his last inspection of the building before he locked it up for the night. Until next week, when the contestants would be called in to start the pageant prep.

  A movement on the other side of the stage caught his attention. A tall figure in dark clothing, his face covered with the shadow from the brim of a baseball cap, the man wasn’t anyone Holden had allowed in the building. Holden had memorized the exact number of people who should be here—board members, contestants, plus Bella, who had left the building by now—in the high school. This was a stranger, an interloper.

  Holden drew his weapon from its hidden place in an ankle holster and deliberately made his way to the back passage behind the stage, to avoid detection by the suspect. No one was going to be hurt—not on his watch.

  Chapter 2

  Offstage, Be
lla quickly slipped out of the espadrilles and shoved them into her oversize tote. Her feet made no sound on the old, highly waxed corridor floor that had borne thousands of teenaged feet through the years.

  Looking over her shoulder, she made sure that the way-too-intense security guard hadn’t followed her, but he’d been pretty settled in his chair on the stage, observing the pageant committee’s discussion. The members had been deep in conversation as she and the other contestants exited. Bella had made to leave with the group, then peeled off as the last of the women exited through the main door.

  The memory of his gaze on her made her skin heat and her anger rise. Did he think she couldn’t see him as the pageant committee grilled her? And what was his job here, exactly? She thought security guards just manned doors and entrances.

  Memories swiped at her focus as she ran to the teachers’ conference room. She’d been in several musicals during middle and high school, all performed in this very building, on the same stage where she was going to have to pretend to compete for Ms. Mustang Valley. Bella knew these corridors and rooms as well as the house she’d grown up in until their parents had died. Some buildings were imprinted on a heart as firmly as the memories that were created in them. She sighed. Even the not-so-great memories—the ones of Aunt Amelia, who had single-handedly raised Bella and her brothers after the accident—were here. Bella recalled Aunt Amelia at back-to-school nights, frazzled as she found getting to three different class sessions impossible. She’d taken it out on the triplets later, complaining about how her life could have been so much easier if Bella’s parents had lived.