Page 14 of Colorado Christmas Carol

“A surprise?” Mellie asked, diverted, putting away the phone. “For me?”

“Yes, for you. Something special.” He pulled out of the parking lot. “Essa, seat belt, please,” he said gently.

“As if I need it,” she teased. “You’re one of the best drivers I know.”

He flushed a little. “You make me feel so good about myself,” he said, almost to himself.

“You’re a nice person,” she replied, puzzled. “Surely I’m not the only one who tells you that.”

“You’re very nice,” Mellie seconded. “And we’ll fight anybody who says you aren’t!” She grinned.

He was breathing uneasily. His hands on the steering wheel were white from the pressure.

Essa and Mellie were such unique people.

Kind. Generous. Empathetic. He wanted to keep them with him forever, to forget the past, to have a future that included them.

Never had anyone made him feel so good about himself, made him want to make amends.

But then, there was only one way he could make amends.

And he couldn’t take these kind people with him.

He didn’t know where he might end up. It might be a very bad place, and then what?

He’d have sacrificed his kind friends on a whim.

A sad whim. He couldn’t just go out and collect kind people and make them stay with him. What had he been thinking?

He drove on to the dig site while Essa and Mellie talked back and forth about the previous day’s forensic workshop, with Mellie asking a dozen questions.

“That’s right, isn’t it, Dean?” Essa asked suddenly.

“Wh . . . what?” he stammered, trapped in his thoughts.

“The speaker said that one grain of pollen found on a suspect’s clothing had matched with a flower in the lapel of the victim, and that it had been prime evidence in the conviction.”

“Pollen.” He was blank, caught in the fever of what was coming. “Yes. Pollen. That’s right.”

“Are you okay?” Essa asked softly. “Dean, you look terrible. If you don’t feel like taking us out here . . .”

He wiped at his forehead, where beads of sweat had formed. “I didn’t have breakfast,” he said dimly. “And I didn’t sleep well. I’m all right. Really. Really I am.”

Essa drew in a breath. “Well, we wouldn’t have complained if you hadn’t felt like doing it, you know,” she said with a gentle smile.

Knives. Knives in his heart.

“Of course we wouldn’t!” Mellie agreed.

They were so kind. Possibly the kindest females he’d ever known. Definitely not like his stepmother! He hated himself for what he’d thought. They were so innocent. They had no idea what he planned for them.

But Mellie’s father suspected him. He was a detective. Did he suspect him of what he’d actually done, or was it just some sort of apprehension that had no name, a detective’s hunch that there was something not right about Dean?

“There it is,” Essa said, noting the dig site just off the main highway on a dirt road, but visible from the highway. She frowned. “I don’t see anybody . . .”

Dean ground his teeth together. He sped up to the dig site and stopped the car. “Get out of the car, both of you.”

They stared at him, shocked.

“Please,” he ground out, eyes shut tight. “Please!”

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Essa asked. “Can we help?”

“No. Nothing can help me now.” He took a shuddering breath. “Please. Get out. You have your phones. You can call . . . for help.” He looked at Essa with wild, unseeing eyes. “Please! Hurry!”

She didn’t understand, but she felt a darkness in him suddenly—a vicious, cold darkness that was beyond anything she’d experienced.

“Get out, Mellie,” she told the child as she unfastened her seat belt and opened the door.

“What is it” she asked Dean when they were standing beside the car.

“You’ll know. You will. Forgive . . . me,” he choked, his eyes going from one of them to the other.

“I was once . . . a kind person. It was the shock. I didn’t think she’d do it.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time. He didn’t stop her then.

Maybe it was . . . fated. But when I saw what she’d done, I .

. . I just went crazy. I loved my father! Please don’t . . . hate me.”

“Of course we don’t hate you . . .”

“Close the door,” he said through gritted teeth.

No sooner had Essa done that than he turned the car with furious speed and jetted out onto the highway, spinning dirt and gravel everywhere.

* * *

Duke had just contacted the sheriff of another county in Colorado, and now he had enough evidence for reasonable suspicion to make an arrest. It had taken some quick work by Sheriff Jeff Ralston, but he had a warrant, signed by a local judge.

Now all he had to do was get his girls and ensure their safety before he arrested Dean. He walked into the hotel and stood very still.

They weren’t in the lobby where he’d sent them before he left the hotel. His heart stopped. His blood ran cold. Surely Dean hadn’t come early . . . ?!

“Hi, there,” the desk clerk called gaily. “If you’re looking for your little girl, she and Essa went out to that dig site with Dean Mr. . . . Marston?!” he exclaimed, because Duke’s face was white. Sheet white.

He was punching in numbers like a wild man with hands that were unsteady. Please, God, he prayed silently as he waited for his daughter’s phone to ring. Please, God . . . !

It rang once. Twice. Three times. He groaned out loud, holding up a hand to ward off the desk clerk, who was asking questions. Four times!

Mellie , he thought with horror. Please, God, spare Mellie. Spare Essa . He couldn’t bear to lose them; either of them!

Five times . . . !

“Hello? Daddy?” Mellie asked.

He almost staggered with relief. “Baby, where are you?” he asked at once.

“We’re at the dig site, but there’s nobody here,” the child said. “And Dean . . . what? Oh, sure, here.”

“Duke,” Essa said, “Dean left us out here at the dig site. There’s nobody here. He was acting very oddly, and he drove away like a madman! What’s going on?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“It’s a twenty-minute drive . . . Hello? Hello?”

Mellie looked up at her. “Daddy drives like a maniac sometimes,” she explained. “But he’s a really good driver. He used to race cars,” she added with a grin. The smile fell. “Did he say what was wrong with Dean?”

“No.” She handed Mellie back her phone. It was cold out here, and lonely. “I wish I knew what was going on,” she added.

Mellie pressed close to her. “Me, too. I hope Dean is all right. I like him a lot.”

“So do I,” Essa said. She hugged the child close.

* * *

It was more like twenty minutes before Duke showed up, and he was followed by an ambulance and a sheriff’s car with sirens going and lights blazing.

Duke stopped by Essa and Mellie, but the other vehicles kept going.

Duke didn’t hesitate. He scooped up the most important females in the world and hugged them close.

While Mellie pressed close, his head bent, and he kissed the breath out of a shocked Essa. She melted.

“I can’t remember the last time I was this frightened,” Duke said, kissing Essa’s eyes shut.

Mellie pulled back and looked up at him. He was very pale. “I don’t understand, Daddy. Dean brought us out here to see something the archaeologist found, but there was nobody here. He told us to get out of the car and then he took off.”

“Like a bat out of hell,” Essa added, meeting Duke’s eyes and still disconcerted by that very passionate and unexpected kiss.

“He said a lot of things I didn’t understand, about what his stepmother had done and he saw his father and went crazy and did something.

He was very upset about it. He asked us not to hate him . . .”

Duke just looked at her. He looked down at his daughter. “I thought I told you two to stay in the lobby,” he said in a choked tone.

“We’re sorry,” Essa replied. “But Dean came very early and said the crew had found something exciting. He promised we’d only be gone for about a half hour.

” She shrugged and smiled. “So we went with him. After all, he wasn’t really dangerous, was he?

I mean, you were investigating a burglary for your detective agency. Most burglars wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Let’s get in the car,” he said gently.

When they were situated, he started to speak, but a sheriff’s car pulled off the highway onto the dirt road and stopped beside them at the dig site. Jeff Ralston, somber and quiet, got out of his car and came to Duke’s window, which was powered down.

“You were right,” Jeff said. “I’m going to write a letter to your former boss and tell him what a damned fool he is!”

“Former boss?” Mellie asked, her eyes lighting up.

“Right about what?” Essa asked.

Jeff produced a crumpled, stained note and a pin in a plastic envelope. “I’ll transfer this into a paper bag when my deputy gets back, but you can handle it this way without damaging the evidence.”

Duke took the bag and read the note. He ground his teeth together. “Dear God,” he whispered, and his eyes closed.

Essa and Mellie were very quiet, both consumed with unanswered questions.

Duke turned to Essa and handed her the bag. It contained a karate pin like the one Dean wore on his collar, and a note written hastily on the back of an envelope.

She read the scribbled note locked inside the bag.