Page 5

G oddamn it. She had to be beautiful.

Inside C Building, Noah watched Laura Colton and her brothers through the glass doors of the atrium. Legs spread, arms crossed, he listened to harp strings and water cascading cheerfully from the fountain to his left, trying to read the exchange. Trying to discern what was on her face.

He didn’t have to. He recognized it, and it drove a knife through him. She was grieving. The tension around the frown lines of her mouth were indicators, just like her heartbreakingly blue eyes drawn down at the corners. She eyed him, too, through the glass doors as Adam and Joshua Colton stood on either side of her, debating what to do about the situation.

Although he gathered sadness and confusion from her face, she didn’t waver. She was a winking star at the edge of the galaxy—remote, out of reach and somehow constant.

His shoulders itched. He didn’t roll them, but the urge bothered him. It raised the hair on the backs of his arms and neck. The supernatural sense strengthened as she continued to stare.

He could be constant, too—like a roadblock. An obstacle. He would stop traffic. He would dent fenders. He would do anything to find out what had happened here.

It didn’t matter if it made waves for these people. Nothing mattered except Allison.

He hadn’t been there. The hopeless thought burned on the edge of his conscience. It burned and smoked, and he hated himself.

He hadn’t been there for Allison. Not in the last few months. Not like he should have been. He’d been distracted by work, his closure rate at the SPD and the rise in homicides around the area.

And now Allison was dead. If it wasn’t someone else’s fault, it was his.

He was responsible...until he found who was to blame.

He couldn’t live with her death on his conscience. That sweet little girl. She’d had no one, and he’d promised her. He’d sworn he would be there for her—until the last breath.

That last breath was supposed to be his, not hers. It wasn’t supposed to be her. It should be another person lying under a sheet at the coroner’s office.

He’d known she was too soft for this world—too pure. Too good. And, like a son of a bitch, he’d neglected her.

Her voice came to him. I’m an adult. Noah, you don’t have to chase my monsters out of the closet anymore.

Are you sure about that? he’d challenged.

She had laughed, dropping her head back and belting. Allison never did things halfway, especially when they brought her joy. She’d taken his hand as she’d said, There are no more monsters. We’re free of them now.

He was the monster, he realized. He was a monster who’d abandoned her to the real world, and she was dead because of it.

As if she could read his thoughts, Laura Colton shivered. She broke the staring contest by turning to gaze at her younger brother, folding her arms around herself.

She was cold, he mulled. Of course she was cold. She was standing outside with the barest of snow flurries falling at a slant from the north. Her white dress was long-sleeved, with a leather belt cinched at the waist and a rustic blue handkerchief tied elaborately at her throat in a Western knot. The handkerchief wasn’t meant to keep out the cold. It was silk, for Christ’s sake. The dress may have been long, but there was a slit on one side.

As she shifted, he saw a flash of creamy skin. Her boots, the same blue as the handkerchief, with custom floral tooling, rose to just below the knee. Her shoulder-length blond hair swung as the wind flurried and spiraled. She shivered again, visibly.

Noah clenched his jaw. Morons , he thought of her brothers. Couldn’t they see she was cold? Couldn’t one of them loan her a jacket?

Adam caught on first. He swung his jacket off in a quick motion and draped it across the line of her shoulders.

Not enough , Noah chided even as Laura acknowledged the gesture by touching Adam’s arm just above the elbow. Joshua braced his arm across her shoulders and huddled her against his side. He rubbed a hand up and down her arm for friction.

Good, Noah thought. Maybe he could stop feeling sorry for her long enough to separate the woman from the adversary.

She was beautiful. So what? He’d seen icebergs. He’d seen one calve and flip over, churning the sea like a bubbling witch’s cauldron, exposing its breathtaking glass underbelly. Unspoiled, untouched. Secret and forbidden.

Laura Colton was that kind of beautiful. And damned if it was going to distract him.

Icebergs were roadblocks, too. Sure, they contained multitudes, and they were frigging fascinating to boot. But they could be upset. They melted. They flipped. And when they flipped, their spires crumbled.

I won’t let you get in my way , he determined as her heartbreaker eyes seized hold of him again. Frost wove delicate swaths around the edges of the door pane, framing her.

Friend? Allison had never mentioned her. He was sure of it. If he wasn’t sure, it was because he had forgotten.

He couldn’t bear to think that he’d forgotten.

You forgot the last lunch , a voice in his head taunted.

He and Allison normally met for lunch on the first Friday of every month. Tipsy Tacos, the little cantina close to her place that served vegan options alongside the ones with meat he preferred, was her favorite restaurant.

It’s perfect, isn’t it? she’d practically had to yell over the mariachi music, her dark eyes laughing.

Noah dug his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked the screen, then scrolled through his texts. Her messages popped up on-screen.

There was one from a week ago.

Allison: TGIF! Music fest this weekend?

Noah: TGIF. Gotta work overtime. Don’t go home with a stranger. Call me if you need a ride.

Allison: Will do!

Then a week before that...

Allison: Did you read the meditation book I gave you?

Noah: Covered up in work. I’ll get to it.

Allison: Promise?

Noah: Promise.

Emojis had followed. Then the exchange before that dated two weeks past.

Allison: Thinking of you.

Noah: Thinking of you, too. You ok?

Allison: Worried about you. Let me book you a massage. You need you time.

Noah: I’m fine. Don’t go out with that guy again. He’s bad news.

Allison: LOL. He said the same about you.

Noah: Never trust a guy in an El Camino.

Allison: I miss you!

Noah: Miss you, too. Sorry about lunch.

Allison: It’s NBD. I know work’s crazy. Hugs!

Noah: Hugs to you.

Noah winced as he scrolled through the next exchange.

Allison: I’m at the cantina.

Noah: Damn. I’m across town. Had to make an arrest. I’m sorry, Al.

Allison: It’s ok.

Noah: I’ll pick you up.

Allison: It’s nice out. I can walk.

Noah: Let me know if you change your mind.

Allison: Will do.

A smiley face capped the message.

He looked for subtext. He searched for anger on her part. Blame. Disappointment. Anything to beat himself up with. As ever, he found nothing. Just happy, look-on-the-bright-side Allison.

The only other person who’d loved him like this...who’d worried about him like this and looked out for him...was his mother. Before she was killed and he had gotten dumped into the system.

He’d let her down. Even if Allison didn’t know it, he’d let her down.

He had to live with that. He had to live with the fact that there would be no more text messages at 10:00 p.m. telling him to relax...unwind...life’s short...live well...

Forcing himself to swallow, he took stock of his emotions. He felt raw, unspooled. He’d gone at Laura Colton too hard. If she really was Allison’s friend, did she have a litany of cheerful, forgotten text messages that broke her heart in hindsight, too?

There was movement, he noticed. He stuffed the phone back in his pocket as a security guard moved into the Coltons’ circle. He placed a hand on Joshua’s shoulder. They all turned to listen. Joshua nodded and walked away.

Laura and Adam spoke quietly, nodding back and forth before moving toward the door.

Maybe he should apologize to her, Noah thought. He could have waited to question the Coltons, done some digging into them and Mariposa first... But he hadn’t been thinking with his head when he’d left Allison at the coroner’s office.

He’d done this before with his mother. There had been grief, and he’d been alone then, too. Nobody had cared about him, much less commiserated with him. He didn’t know how to expose the hurt and had no idea how to talk about it. The shock of Allison’s death had put his fists up and his head down like a brawler.

He’d swung at Laura Colton, Noah reflected as Adam escorted her into C Building to face off with him again. Noah did his best to relax his stance. Breathe , Allison said in his ear as Laura’s gaze climbed back to his.

“It was a mistake,” he said without taking a beat to think about the wording. He backtracked. “Yelling at you in the break room. It shouldn’t have happened. I apologize.”

Her hands balled together over the parting of Adam’s jacket. After a moment, she nodded shortly. “I accept your apology.”

“That doesn’t resolve everything that happened here this evening,” Adam said evenly. “I intend to call the Sedona Police Department for some clarity on the situation. They wouldn’t let you lead this investigation if Allison was a relation of yours, which is why Fulton was the detective on scene this morning. Not you. Does your commanding officer know you’re here now?”

Noah studied Laura and her cold, white-knuckled hands. Then he asked the man, “If it was your sister, what would you do? Would you sit around, bury your head in the sand, hoping somebody else figures out what happened to her? Or would you use every skill, every resource at your disposal, to make sure what happened to her is brought to light?”

Adam tilted his head. “I understand why you’re here, Detective. As a brother, I sympathize, and I’m deeply sorry for your loss. If I didn’t have Laura...” His shoulders lifted, then settled as he deflated. “I wouldn’t be standing here.”

“Adam.” Laura spoke her brother’s name in a whisper. She raised her hand to his arm as she had outside. This time, she held it.

“But the fact remains that we don’t know what happened to Allison, precisely,” Adam went on. “We don’t know that anyone at Mariposa is responsible or if she died of natural causes. That’s for the coroner to decide, yes?”

Noah jerked his chin. “Yes.”

“So you’ll agree that your demand we close the resort is premature at this point?” Adam ventured.

“What happens when the coroner’s word comes down?” Noah asked. “What happens when we’re certain it was homicide? What then?”

“If that’s the case,” Adam said carefully, “we’ll reevaluate. But I see no reason to close Mariposa.”

“You’re worried about your bottom line,” Noah growled.

“No, Detective,” Adam said coolly. “I’m worried about the same thing Allison was, too, every day. The privacy and comfort of our guests.”

“You sure it’s not the Colton reputation?” Noah countered.

Laura unfolded her hands. “It’s late, and the snow’s coming in. I’m sure you’d like to get home, Detective Steele, in case the roads become impassable. Why don’t we all reconvene after the coroner decides on the manner of Allison’s passing, then proceed from there?”

She said it in such a way, Noah felt every argument die.

He didn’t want to go home. At home, it would be quiet. He’d have nothing to distract him from the voices inside his head that said Allison’s death was on his hands. “Fine.”

She offered something of a smile. It wasn’t the real thing. Her eyes weren’t involved in it. “I’ll walk you to L Building.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Adam cut in. “I’ll walk the detective back to his vehicle. You go home, Laura. It’s cold.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’d like a moment with Detective Steele.” When Adam only frowned at her, she added, “Alone.”

Adam exchanged a look with Noah, one that warned he’d better tread carefully.

Laura started to remove his jacket. Adam stopped her quickly. “Keep it. And promise to go home as soon as you see him out. You need to get off your feet.”

“I will,” she vowed.

“A promise is a promise, LouBear,” he reminded her. He dropped a kiss to her brow.

The sentiment rang through Noah’s head. A promise is a promise. He hated himself all the more. Before she could open the door, he reached for the handle.

“Thank you,” she said before ducking back out into the cold.

“We’ll see each other again, Detective Steele,” Adam said in closing.

“You can count on it.” Noah left the statement hanging in the air like an anvil. He zipped his jacket as he and Laura followed the well-manicured path back to L Building.

She walked in long strides. “Normally, I love the snow. Tonight, it just makes me sad.”

“Allison loved snow.” He closed his mouth quickly. He hadn’t meant to say it.

“She did,” Laura said. “I remember the first winter she worked for us. There was so much that year, she had to move classes inside. She liked watching the snowfall from the windows at Annabeth. She said it was like being trapped in a snow globe.”

That sounded like Allison. The black hole in Noah’s chest opened further. He felt gravity reeling him in toward it. He hoped it would wait until he was alone to absorb him.

“I need to apologize, too,” she revealed.

“For?” he asked.

“I misjudged you,” she explained. The cold stained her cheeks. “Back in the break room. I didn’t think you were with the police.”

“What did you think I was?”

“A criminal.” She winced. “I don’t like labeling people. But I labeled you right off the bat. And I’m sorry for it.”

He didn’t know what to feel, exactly. He glanced down at his hands where Roman numerals riddled his knuckles and a spider crawled up the back of one hand. The etchings on the other made it look like a skeleton hand with exposed joints and bones that went all the way up his fingers. On some level, he could understand. He’d spent a fair amount of time undercover because he was good at inserting himself into a certain crowd.

He remembered how in the break room she’d all but backed herself up to the exit door when he’d approached her. Had she thought he was going to hurt her...take her jewelry...worse? A growl fought its way up his throat. He choked it back, along with everything else, and punched his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I don’t expect you to lose sleep over it, Ms. Colton.”

“It’s Laura,” she said as they came to the doors to L Building. She turned to him, the golden light over their heads crowning her. “We’re probably going to be seeing a lot of each other. And we both knew Allison. So Laura will suffice.” She stuck out a hand for him to shake.

He stared at it. Then her. There were snowflakes in her hair. If someone gave her a scepter and horse-drawn sleigh, she would be a glorified ice princess.

Unwilling to let her shiver a moment longer, he closed his hand around hers. It felt like ice, and it was as smooth as the surface of a mink’s coat. He took his away quickly, unwilling to watch his tattoos and calluses mingle with her fancy digits. He pulled the door open for her.

She cleared her throat. “I’m going to miss her, too.”

Whatever he could have said was trapped beneath his tongue.

Her lashes lowered, touching her cheeks, before she lifted them again. “As soon as you make the arrangements, I’d like to know. I’d like to say goodbye.”

Arrangements. The portents of that barreled down on him. He was Allison’s next of kin, her only relative. It was up to him to plan her funeral.

He couldn’t bury her. He couldn’t even contemplate it. She didn’t belong in the ground any more than she belonged in a morgue.

An unsteady breath washed out of him.

Her hand came to rest over his. “I can help you. I’ve helped plan a funeral in the past. I was young, but I think my brothers and I managed to pull it off well enough. If you need help—”

“It’s fine.” He barked it, desperate to be away from her so he could unleash the panic and anguish building up inside him. He held the door open wider. “Good night, Ms. Colton.”

Her lips firmed. She strode inside. He watched her long after the door closed. He watched through the glass until she disappeared down the hall, the tail of her white skirt the last thing to disappear. The lights went off seconds later and he was left staring at his own reflection.

A funeral.

Another breath wavered out, vaporizing in front of him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. That black hole had him by the balls.

He’d go home, he decided. And when he got there, he’d drink himself into a stupor.