Colton's Deadly Disguise (The Coltons 0f Mustang Valley Book 7) Read online

  The sense of dread in her stomach lessened, but not when she thought of walking back into MVHS.

  Bella wasn’t a gambler, but she’d bet that the mysterious security guard was definitely a key to finding answers.

  * * *

  Two hours later and with assurances that she didn’t have a concussion, Bella pushed through the hospital exit doors and ran smack into a tall, hard mass of man in a blue uniform.

  “Spencer!”

  Her brother was almost a foot taller than her and kept himself in top shape as a sergeant for MVPD. In uniform, he usually exuded authority, a no-nonsense countenance. Since he was her triplet and she knew him better than most anyone, save their brother Jarvis, Bella could tell Spencer had more on his mind than police business.

  “What the heck, Bella?” His blue eyes sparked with concern and not a small dose of frustration. He looked at her, then pulled her to him in a big-brother-style hug. Which technically was correct as he’d been born two minutes ahead of her. “I about flipped when I found out you’d been brought in.”

  Bella soaked up the love, as her brothers were her closest friends and only immediate family. Despite the Colton name and the hundreds of distant relatives who shared it, Bella and her brothers had only ever been able to rely on one another, as had their parents before they died over twenty years ago.

  “I’m fine.” She pushed back and looked into Spencer’s eyes. “Seriously. I had a scare, by some jerk who’s probably involved with the Ms. Mustang Valley Pageant. He knocked me out with one of those Vulcan-grip maneuvers.”

  “Do you mean a choke hold?” His worry was evident. “What were you doing at the high school, Bella?”

  “Where’s Boris?” She sought to distract her brother as she looked around for his K-9 partner, a beautiful chocolate lab they all considered part of the family.

  “With Katrina. They’re working on some more in-depth maneuvers. And stop trying to avoid my question.” Spencer might be in overprotective-big-brother mode, but it didn’t stop the warmth in his eyes from blossoming at the mention of his love and local dog trainer, Katrina. They’d recently fallen in love and gotten engaged.

  “Let’s talk while you drive me home.”

  “You don’t have another ride arranged?”

  She shrugged as they headed for the police K-9 SUV parked in front of the entrance. “I was going to call for a ride with my app.” Actually, she’d planned to walk back to the high school to retrieve her vehicle and maybe manage to sneak back inside. Nothing she’d willingly share with her cop brother.

  “Why wouldn’t you call me or Jarvis? We’re your family, Bella.”

  “I know, but you’re also both a bit controlling about what you think I should be doing with my life.”

  “It’s no secret that something’s afoot in Mustang Valley.” He got behind the wheel and moved a laptop out of the passenger side. She slid onto the leather seat and realized how hot it was.

  “Air, please.”

  “Sure thing.” He flicked on the engine and put the SUV in Drive. “Where to? The high school?”

  “Yes. I left my car there earlier.”

  “And why exactly were you there?” Spencer’s attitude was all casual but she knew it was from years of experience interviewing victims and criminals. Her brother could be as patient as needed when he wanted information.

  Bella sucked in a breath, held it and slowly released it. The technique was part of her daily meditation to keep her tendency toward anxiety at bay. If the day’s events hadn’t triggered her, she’d bet Spencer’s reaction was about to.

  “Don’t get mad. The last thing I need right now, after such a, a traumatic experience,” she silently thanked Shawn for the description, “is you coming down hard on me. I’m doing an undercover exposé of the local beauty-pageant circuit and I need to participate to get my story. But no one can know about this, Spencer. You can’t tell anyone at work. Promise me.”

  “Of course I won’t.” She knew he would though, if he thought her safety or anyone else’s depended on the information. “Why would you do this, Bella? Is it about Gio?”

  Her throat tightened and she squeezed her eyes shut. This was going to be more difficult than she foresaw, the constant reminder that her best friend and confidante of twenty-five years, ever since first grade, was gone.

  “Partly, yes. Mostly I want to dig deep and find out who’s really in charge of these things, why they still have categories like evening gown and talent competition. I mean, it’s the twenty-first century. What gives, you know?”

  “Save the flip tone for your readers. I’m your brother and I’m telling you, this is a bad idea. You’ve heard about the other two pageants in other Arizona counties, right?” He took the slow way to the high school, through the back part of Mustang Valley that cut through pastures and gave the best views of the mountains in whose shadows they’d grown up.

  “I have heard. But the murders are unrelated. One was poison and the other a gunshot. Probably disgruntled boyfriends or overzealous competitors.”

  “They haven’t found the killer in either instance. You need to be very, very careful, Bella.”

  “There’s a security guard employed by the pageant. He’ll keep it safe. According to the EMTs who took care of me, he’s the one who called it in.”

  She wondered if he’d found her on the floor, unconscious, or if he’d gone after her attacker—or both. As fit and strong as the mysterious guard appeared, bottom line was that he was a civilian, nothing more. He hadn’t prevented her attack.

  “There is, and he’s got a superb résumé from what Chief tells me, but it’s not good enough for me at this point. Since you won’t carry your own protection, Bella, you need to consider dropping out of the competition. Can’t you get the information you need by interviewing the contestants?”

  “No. Not the same. Look, I don’t tell you how to police. I appreciate your input, but don’t tell me how to do investigative reporting. I promise I’ll let you know the minute anything fishy turns up. But I have to be able to do my job, Spencer.”

  “I hear you’re in financial trouble.”

  “What? From the interview the board did?” Anger spun in her stomach like a heavy rug in her dryer. “Is nothing confidential in this tiny town?”

  Spencer laughed and she wondered what amused her brother. Of course, he’d been a lot happier lately, and smiled more than she’d ever remembered. “Not a whole lot, I’ll give you that.” He pulled into the high school parking lot and up to her car. “Just do me a favor and be extra careful.”

  “I will. I promise.” She said goodbye and got into her vehicle. There was no chance of Spencer departing before she pulled out, and he’d no doubt follow her for a bit to make sure she not only drove capably but got home safe and sound.

  Sometimes having a big brother put a big, wet damper on her investigative reporting.

  * * *

  Holden carefully followed the K-9 SUV through Mustang Valley back roads, promising himself he’d take a bike ride out here when the case wrapped up. Not if, but when, because he had to catch the Pageant Killer before anyone else got hurt.

  He’d pulled up Bella’s bio, then her blog, then had his colleague back at the Phoenix field office do a background search on Bella. She was smart about her security protocol, but his agency had ways of ferreting information. Holden already knew that Spencer was a highly decorated police officer, but he hadn’t heard that Spencer had recntly saved his fiancée from certain death with the help of his K-9, a chocolate lab named Boris. Boris, along with the other MVPD K-9s, had his own Facebook fan page. As an FBI agent Holden stayed off social media, but he knew it was an important way that the local LEA could communicate with their community.

  Holden suspected that Spencer had no idea that his sister had entered the pageant. Finding her in the staff room after she’d made i
t look like she’d left the building raised all kinds of red flags.

  As the car dipped around a bend, he realized they were heading back to the school. As he’d predicted, Spencer was taking Bella to get her vehicle. Was he really going to allow his sister to drive after such a traumatic event?

  Not that it was his problem. Keeping Bella safe from the killer was all he was tasked to do. Besides finding and arresting the murderer.

  Holden continued to follow Spencer but couldn’t help the flashback images that he associated with the words traumatic event. He’d worked a case in which a serial killer that the agency had tracked for nearly a year had taken him hostage. In what he’d expected to be his first successful apprehension, he’d miscalculated and the killer had trapped him in an abandoned silver mine in southeastern Arizona, not far from Mustang Valley. He’d still caught the killer, but it had taken its toll. The experience had been harrowing and life changing. Instead of deterring his desire to do investigative work, fortified it.

  Spencer signaled a left turn into the school drive and Holden quickly turned right, down a side street where he wouldn’t be detected by either Colton. He’d taken the time to change out of his security-guard uniform and into plain street clothes—cargo shorts, dark T-shirt, running shoes and ball cap—as soon as Bella had been taken away by the EMTs. He hated not being completely open with Spencer about this, but he had to figure out what Bella Colton was about.

  He’d also had to accept that the attacker had gotten away. For now. If indeed Bella’s attacker was the killer.

  Holden knew that since he traded his security uniform for street clothes right after he left MVHS, he wouldn’t be readily recognizable by most people he’d worked with earlier today. He didn’t want to have to explain why the pageant security guard was hanging out around the school after hours.

  He parked his car on a quiet street and got out, hoping to appear as much a part of the scenery as possible. Lucky for him there was a walking path that ran past the subdivision, the school and out to the desert beyond. Mustang Valley gave every appearance of being a beautiful place to live, to settle, to raise a family.

  Except for the possible serial killer who stalked the pageant.

  Holden walked until he was close enough to make out Spencer’s SUV cruiser, which was parked next to the most beat-up, ugly station wagon he’d ever seen.

  Bella Colton must not have been telling a total lie when she’d informed the pageant committee about her dire financial situation. No one with a decent paycheck would drive such a jalopy. He wondered how it passed inspection, then remembered her brother was a cop. His handler in Phoenix had filled him in on Bella sporadically over the last couple of hours. The psychological profile he was steadily building of her didn’t fit a person who’d cheat on her auto inspection, though.

  Bella had a decent blogging career in hand, but much of her freelance work reflected the expertise of someone with a lot more talent than just writing for the local, small-town blog. Holden’s colleague was female and apparently Bella’s articles were receiving a lot of play on social media and had even found their way into print here and there.

  From all indications, Isabella Colton was a woman on the verge of a career breakout. Holden knew the feeling. If he nailed this case, he’d be that much closer to his next rank. Not only would it be a pay raise, but he’d be achieving the goal he’d set out for right after graduating from the academy in Quantico, Virginia. Holden wanted to be career FBI.

  The white stripes on Bella’s top reflected the lowering sun, and turned her hair a golden shade of copper that reminded him of the pots and pans his grandmother polished and hung over her wide farm stove in Kansas. Grandma St. Clair had served as a WASP—a Woman Airforce Service Pilot—in World War II and she was his most ardent supporter when he’d been selected for Army ROTC at Kansas State. Grandma had sent him letters the entire time in the army, and had attended his promotion to captain two years before he resigned his commission to become an FBI agent. Sadly she’d passed before he’d left Quantico but she’d known the path he’d chosen. Like Grandma St. Clair, Holden wanted to make a difference in the world. Protect it at all costs from the most evil acts.

  Bella walked the short distance to her car, and gave her brother a quick wave before getting behind the wheel.

  Please don’t follow her home.

  If Spencer trailed Bella, Holden would be unable to tag along at all this evening. He couldn’t risk Spencer spotting him, as his army best friend would recognize him immediately. Bella shouldn’t see him either, to be on the safe side. He had no reason to think Bella had the military background Spencer did but in truth had no idea if Bella had ever served or engaged in any kind of LEA training. The background information he had wasn’t complete.

  You could confront them both, let Bella know who you really are.

  He wasn’t ready to. Not yet. His gut was telling him to lay low. Besides, Spencer was going to be angry when he found out that Bella had been attacked on Holden’s watch. Holden deserved the rancor but wasn’t going to let it be a distraction. Not until he figured out what Bella Colton was up to. She wasn’t just a regular pageant contestant. She’d better hope the committee didn’t read too many of her articles or they’d question her motives for competing, too.

  Holden turned and walked the short distance back to his car. As he did, he heard a siren. By the time he was in his car and at the corner of the side street, he saw Spencer’s unit fly around onto the main street and head away from the school, siren flashing. Counting to five, Holden pulled out and slowly drove by the school. He expected to see Bella’s car heading out of the parking lot but instead saw the back end of her vehicle as she drove toward the school, then turned left onto the inside perimeter road.

  Bella Colton chose to come back onto school property after surviving a close call with a possible serial killer. Not that she knew about the serial killer, but she’d been attacked. Why would she do that?

  Holden knew only one way to find out.

  Chapter 4

  Bella’s head pounded and she grabbed her water bottle from the worn adjustable holder she’d found at the dollar store.

  “Yuck,” she spoke to herself at how warm the liquid was, but at least it was some kind of hydration. Thank goodness the hospital had told her she didn’t have a concussion, or she wouldn’t be able to return so soon. If she was accepted into the pageant, she’d get an email or phone call tonight and have to report again tomorrow morning for the indoctrination process. It’d be too late to search the file cabinet by then, with so many people around.

  As she drove past the main building and then around to the backstage parking lot entrance, she let out a huge breath of relief. Yes! The first responders had all left, so she didn’t have to either lie or sneak her way back in. The stage entrance loading dock stood out, the massive concrete block reminding her of the piers she’d once seen when she and her brothers went to the Pacific Ocean with their aunt. Aunt Amelia hadn’t been a very loving or demonstrative woman, and in fact had made it clear that she’d been saddled with raising Bella and the boys at the most inconvenient time of her life. Bella had wanted to tell her aunt, even when she was only ten, that there probably wasn’t ever a good time to have your sibling up and die and leave you with triplets, but she’d thought better of it. Aunt Amelia had a short fuse and Bella never liked to be on the receiving end of her verbal lashes. And at least Aunt Amelia did love travel and they made yearly pilgrimages to places she had visited as a young woman, fresh out of college.

  Since the school’s rear lot was completely empty, she turned her car around and backed in, butt against the loading dock, to facilitate a quick exit if necessary.

  Please let me get in and out of here okay.

  She was prepared this time, as she shoved her cell phone in a back pocket with one hand and held her pepper spray in the other. No one would sneak up on her again if
she had anything to do with it.

  The pavement under her wedge heels had cooled and a soft breeze came in from the mountains, a gift. When she looked north she saw why—a cloud bank held tight over the range, promising rain in the next day or so.

  She smiled and despite the attack, made a conscious decision to stay positive. This was all about exposing a vast, far-reaching, decades-deep pageant practice that had left too many young women with very adult mental and physical illnesses, from body dysmorphia to eating disorders. A sliver of doubt niggled at her premise and she tried to brush it away. In her research she’d discovered that it was widely believed that eating disorders, like addictions, occurred in people predisposed to such diseases. That might mean that Bella wouldn’t be able to definitively blame a particular pageant board member or group. Gio’s mother had admitted their family members suffered from mental illness for as long as she could remember. But the pageant board had planted the seeds for Gio’s disorder to sink its claws in deep, hadn’t they? Would she be able to definitively state that the pageant triggered Gio’s genetic tendencies? She decided to not worry about it in this moment, and focus on getting back inside the building. More information could clarify Gio’s nightmare.

  Bella hadn’t thought about the prospect of climbing atop the loading dock. The back garage-type door was her only way in, from what her reporter’s group informed her. Her editor-in-chief and supervising editor knew what she was up to, as did her closest reporter friend, Fred Jameson. Fred had never let her down, was always there for her and didn’t hesitate to speak up if Bella was crossing a boundary. Like the time she’d tried to stake out the local drugstore to catch underage teens purchasing vaping paraphernalia. She’d nearly been arrested as the shop owner wasn’t impressed with her credentials and positive motives. Fred had given her the passcode for the loading dock’s security pad, procured from “a friend of a friend.” Bella suspected Fred had paid someone off for the information but didn’t ask for details.