Deadly Colton Search

Throughout that time, she’d questioned her initial panic. Would Ferdy really hurt her? Especially once he knew about the baby? Sure, he’d seemed different after that first date, a bit more hot-tempered and emotional than she’d expected. But wasn’t that life? He had a big job and that meant big problems.

She’d nearly convinced herself to turn back about two weeks in, but something had ultimately held her back. That discussion of shipments and problems at the port sticking in her mind on an endless loop.

Ferdinand Adler was a real estate developer. Not a drug dealer. And yet...that exchange she’d overheard through the door suggested he was exactly that. Could she really expose her child to that?

So she’d stayed on the run. After a circuitous path out of New York, she’d headed straight for Tennessee before heading back north to Michigan, steadily weaving south and west from there. Somewhere deep inside of her, she’d known where she’d end up. The idea had nagged at her since her mother had shared the news of her real father’s identity so many months ago.

But the search for Ace Colton—and her belief in his ability to help her—had grown deeper and more intense as she checked one state after another off her list.

She needed his help and she had to believe that he’d give it. And once safe, secure in the knowledge her child would be protected, she had to find a way to get word back to the authorities in New York.

Because there was no way Ferdy Adler was a good guy.

She’d finally given in and done an internet search at one of the towns she’d passed through. She’d noticed signs for the local library and had gone in to use the public computer terminals, curious to see if she’d find anything to help her understand the real personality of the man she’d believed herself in love with.

The man who had fathered her child.

What she’d found was full of suspicion and innuendo and a few all-out accusations, and it all reinforced the suspected drug dealer angle. Several articles had comment sections underneath and the anonymous notes were not favorable. One mentioned he was “a real leg breaker,” and another had flat out accused him of putting “laced dope” on the streets.

God, how could she have been so stupid?

Like, bone-deep stupid with a side of flighty airhead on the side. She knew better than to give her heart that easily. After all, what had she really known about Ferdinand Adler? Other than the good conversation they’d had on that very first date, his behavior after had been modestly kind at best. But oh boy, had he hooked her good.

She’d had a lot of time to think over the past months and one thing had become embarrassingly clear: Ferdy had played her like a fiddle. He’d somehow keyed into her deepest needs and desires on that very first date and had pushed and played every button she had from that moment on. Which didn’t excuse her role in any of it, but it had given her a sense of how she’d found herself in such a raging mess.

And how she needed to protect herself—and her child—moving forward.

Although she hated coming to town feeling like she had her cup in hand, the idea to find her father had been a persistent flame since her mother had first told her of Ace Colton and their brief teenage love affair. The research she’d done on the man had turned up more than a few surprises, especially the notion that the man was suspected of trying to murder his own father and was recently ousted as the CEO of Colton Oil. There was also a blog post she’d read that gleefully shared “all the Mustang Valley gossip” and said that the man wasn’t even actually a Colton.

Was it possible?

Could the man whose blood flowed in her veins be that cold? That devoid of feeling or decency? And not at all the man her mother had told her about?

Even as she asked herself the question, images of the attractive, warm-eyed man she’d seen in photos didn’t match the bill. Neither did the few memories her mother had shared with her.

Allegra Ellis and Ace Colton might have had an unintended consequence of their teenage romance while both on family vacations at a resort up in Montana, but from all her mother said he was a good person, even then. She’d spoken of his talk of his family and the warmth with which he spoke of his siblings, Ainsley and Grayson, his adoptive brother, Rafe, and his half siblings, Marlowe, Callum and Asher.

In her own way, Allegra had made it all sound so magical, and it was only as her story went on and on that she shared what Ace had told her on their last night together. While he hoped for a bond with his family, there were cracks in their relationships. His father’s multiple marriages and the sheer number of siblings weren’t quite as problem-free as it seemed. Yes, he loved them, but things weren’t quite as easy as he’d made it all out to be.

And then he’d told Allegra the biggest secret of all. That he had a girlfriend back home. One he was likely being groomed to marry.

Although she was well past childhood, Nova had listened to her mother’s story with a mix of shock and envy and, at the evidence of Ace’s youthful choices, sadness. How much time had been lost?

And what would her life have been like if he and her mother hadn’t been inexperienced teenagers?

Questions that had no bearing on her current reality.

Allegra had talked of other things, as well, all more evidence that the fleeting days she’d spent with Ace had meant so much to her. Ace’s future at Colton Oil and his love for the family home in Mustang Valley, Arizona: Rattlesnake Ridge Ranch. Allegra had smiled as she’d spoken of it, her desire to have had a chance to see it—the “Triple R,” she’d said with a smile—had been clear.

Nova shook her head, willing those memories to offer more clues about her father than the latest shocking headline in the Mustang Valley paper. Ace Colton had to be a good man.

She was betting her future on it.

Which, she well knew, flew totally in the face of the harsh lessons that had come from her relationship with Ferdy.

Her gaze caught on a wooden bench on the main thoroughfare through Mustang Valley and the image of that breakfast bar shimmered in her mind’s eye once more. She was hungry and it was important to keep up her strength. And despite thinking of it all through her drive out to Arizona, she was no closer to understanding how to approach her real father.

Hey Dad, I’m here. The kid you never knew you had. Pregnant and alone and on the run from a possible criminal. Aren’t you happy to meet me?

Shaking off the grim thoughts, she dug out that breakfast bar and opened it up, forcing herself to take small bites instead of devouring it in four like she really wanted to. It was all she had for a while and she’d better make it last. Plus, hadn’t she read somewhere that eating slowly made you feel more full?

Doubting that was at all possible, she took a small bite anyway and chewed, thinking about the tiny human she carried inside.

She was going to be someone’s mother.

In her more vulnerable moments the idea was scary beyond measure. In her quieter ones, like now, she considered what it all meant. Yes, she would be totally responsible for a defenseless human, but she’d also have a beautiful child to raise and watch him or her grow up.

Pride swelled within her at the thought and she laid a protective hand over her stomach. She could do this. If the past five months had taught her anything, it was that.

She was capable and not nearly as helpless as she’d allowed herself to believe in those alone and adrift days after her mother had died. And she refused to ever be that vulnerable again. She had two capable hands and wasn’t afraid of work. Somehow she’d find a way.

If she found it with the support of her birth father, then she’d be thankful and grateful. And if he didn’t want her and the baby in his life, she’d still be thankful and grateful she’d found out, and move them both on.

“Nothing but upside,” she whispered down at her stomach. “Because we’ll have each other.”

The baby gave a swift kick, as if in agreement. Which was silly—it was most likely due to the sugar content in all that strawberry filling that had hit the baby’s bloodstream—but Nova could allow herself the quiet moment to believe it was agreement, anyway.

A soft breeze whipped up, swirling the ends of her hair in the warm spring sun and Nova’s gaze caught on a building across the street.

Nikolas Slater, Private Investigator.

Nova considered the sign and the tagline beneath his name—Results. Period.—and wondered if this Mr. Slater might be able to help her. She had no money and no earthly idea if this man would even listen to her, but it couldn’t hurt to talk to him. Who knew, he might take some pity on her and at least answer a few questions for free.

Maybe?

Besides, if he was a resident of Mustang Valley he might at least know about the town grapevine and any news traveling on it about her father.

The idea took shape and form, the breakfast bar forgotten in her hand.

Did she dare?

It was a leap to let someone in but this PI might be the answer to her prayers. At the very least he might have some pull in getting her an introduction to her father or a few answers to all the questions that had dogged her since she’d left New York.

The baby kicked again and, once more, Nova thought her little partner in crime was agreeing with her.

What was the harm in trying?

When that tiny kick came once again, Nova made her decision. Taking the last bite of the breakfast bar, she stood and dropped the wrapper in the trash.

And headed determinedly in the direction of Nikolas Slater, Private Investigator.

Nikolas rubbed his stomach and ignored the heavy growl, promising himself he’d get some lunch after he finished running a few more names through his database. He was on a roll, and while he’d like nothing more than a steak sandwich from his favorite sub shop, he wanted to get a handle on the Colton project.

He’d already spent an hour hunting through the endless layers of information on the internet, surprised at how many articles had been written on Ace, his family and their elite position in Mustang Valley. The oldest child of Payne Colton, CEO of Colton Oil, and his first wife, Ace had been groomed to ascend to his father’s place from an early age.

Although Selina had been cagey in what she shared, it hadn’t taken much to put two and two together throughout the course of their conversation. She claimed her sole concern was catching Payne’s attempted killer so that Colton Oil could continue to thrive.

She’d even—tearfully—suggested Ace had snapped and gone after “poor Payne.”

What would it do to a man, if he’d believed he’d lost all that? All that position and prestige? And how much worse would it be if that loss also blended with the pain of discovering you weren’t who you believed you were?

Nikolas imagined it, his own privileged upbringing winging through his mind. Only unlike Ace Colton, Nikolas hadn’t run around with a whole pack of siblings. His mother, Clara Rivera Slater, had loved his father to distraction, but Guy Slater’s playboy ways hadn’t abated with marriage. He’d be a loving husband and father for a period of time, then something—or someone—shiny would catch his eye and he’d become aloof and distant again. Nikolas had spent his youth living the cycle, watching his mother’s happiness when his father was around and attentive, and then sad and lonely when he was all wrapped up elsewhere.

Whether by circumstance or a sadly determined effort, his mother hadn’t ever had another child and Nikolas had found himself adrift five years ago when she’d died.

He loved her and had spent his life wanting to protect her. Wanted to prove to her that there was someone in her life she could depend on.

But it was five years later and no amount of money could fix that loss, or how it had put his entire life into perspective. A good living made life comfortable, but it didn’t make life happy. And since his father’s ongoing attitude once his dependable, loving wife had passed was that women only wanted you for your money, Nikolas had done his level best to focus on his job and off anything that carried an air of permanence.

Was he a coward? Nikolas wondered. Or had something simply broken in him the day his mother died?

Regardless of the answer, his dedication to his firm hadn’t been entirely misplaced. He’d built something strong and solid on his own, with hard work, determination and the quicksilver tongue his mother said he’d been blessed with.

What she always added was that she wasn’t sure if the gift had come from the good Lord above or the very devil. To which Nikolas had shot back with a quick wink and a grin that they’d both claim him depending on the day.

The swat she’d drop on his dark curls was never quite hard enough to bite, nor slight enough not to feel, and he smiled as the warm memory washed over him. Even now, he could feel her small palm lying against the back of his head after she gave him that playful pat, full of the affection that had always flowed easily between them.

A steady presence at odds with his father’s flit-in-and-flit out approach.

A light buzz interrupted his thoughts, the front door to his office emitting the standard notice of a new arrival. Was Selina back to dish more dirt or make more demands about her former stepson?

Nikolas glanced one last time at the image of Ace Colton still sitting on his computer screen. Sure, the man looked formidable, but he hardly looked like a patricidal maniac.

Nikolas loved nothing more than a juicy case, but he had to admit, even if it was just to himself, that it was quite possible he’d bitten off too much with this one. Yes, the case was exciting, but he wasn’t going to make up evidence or put a good man through the wringer.

On an inward sigh, Nikolas once more forced himself to look at the situation objectively. It was the same argument he’d made to himself earlier that week when he took the case. He’d been honest with Selina from the get-go that he would do the job and he’d stand by his findings about who shot Payne—whatever they were.

She’d agreed but he hadn’t missed the skepticism in her eyes, as if she figured that the verdict would be a guilty one.

Which was her problem, not his.

Stepping out into his outer office, he’d already braced for round two with Selina when he found a different woman entirely. Small and petite, she had a mane of blond hair pulled back in a messy braid that was somehow enchanting for all its disarray. Pretty green eyes peered back at him from that small face and he felt something strangely protective kick in his gut, banishing all thoughts of food.

That protection shifted slightly—along with a subtle disappointment he couldn’t quite define—as his gaze moved from her face to her small frame.

And the large, round, beach ball of a stomach that unmistakably announced her pregnancy.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Mr. Slater?”

“Mr. Slater’s my dad. Please call me Nikolas.”

“Right. Nikolas.” She clasped and unclasped her hands beneath that round belly, before glancing around. As if realizing she hadn’t stepped fully inside, she finally did so, then turned to carefully close the door.

His intrigue grew apace with his curiosity. “And you are?” he finally asked.

“Oh. Sorry.” She closed the rest of the distance between them, her hand out. “I’m Nova. Nova Ellis.”

Although she shook with her right hand, she’d lifted her left to rest on the top of her belly and he couldn’t help noticing there wasn’t a wedding ring.

Or any ring, for that matter.

Which might be explained by her pregnancy weight, but somehow he didn’t think so. There was no white line on her ring finger.

He let her hand drop, impressed by the solid handshake from such a small woman. No shy, retiring hothouse violet here. “How can I help you, Nova?”

“I’m looking for my father.”

Not her baby’s father. Her father. “I might be able to do something about that. When did he go missing?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I thought you were looking for him.”

“Well, I am. But I’ve never met him and he’s never met me. He doesn’t even know about me.”

Realistically, there was little he could do for her. He’d give her the number for a national adoption organization and send her on her way. Which had him oddly disappointed their conversation was going to come to such a swift end.

“I’ve got a few people you can reach out to. I don’t typically work on adoption cases but I do have some resources that can connect children with parents if both parties are willing.”

“Sorry.” She shook her head, a pretty little flush creeping up her neck. “I’m messing this up terribly.” Her hand shot out to rest on his arm. “My mother knew who my father was. Before she died last year, she told me about their teenage fling. She never told him about me but she did tell me about him.”

Nikolas gave her his broadest, most professional smile. This one was open-and-shut, and while he was strangely reluctant to send her on her way, he also had a sense that his fees were somehow out of her range. “If you have his name, reach out directly. There’s no reason to pay for an investigator’s services.”

“Um. Well. I think maybe there is.” Her gaze alighted on the small stack of the week’s papers he kept on his waiting room coffee table. The latest story about Ace Colton was on the top, the headline screaming about the apparently guilty Colton heir, who had recently gone into hiding after the gun that had shot Payne was found in his apartment.

Some odd premonition skimmed over his nerve endings before seeming to rest on the back of his head, as warm as his mother’s palm used to be.

In fact, he wasn’t even all that surprised when Nova bent and picked up the paper, turning it so the headline faced him.

“Ace Colton is my father.”

Chapter 2

Nova’s words hung in the air between her and the cute private eye, seeming to expand and fill the space. She wasn’t sure why she’d made such an impact, but something in the utterance of the words “Ace Colton” had stilled Nikolas Slater.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his hazel eyes growing darker by the moment.

Although she suspected there was some sort of confidentiality clause that protected all she might say to him if she were a client, she wasn’t one. Nor did she have the funds to become one, she well knew. It would be worth confirming what she should—or shouldn’t—say. “I can talk to you freely and confidentially, yes?”

He seemed to consider her for a moment and she figured that even if he did find a way to use the information she shared, she’d at least rest secure in the knowledge she’d tried to protect herself.

But she needed answers. And right now that need trumped what might happen later.

“Sure, I’m willing to do that for this conversation.” That darkness cleared somewhat, even if that underlying sharpness she’d sensed in him hadn’t faded one bit. In fact, he practically hummed in anticipation.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes, of course I am. Whatever you tell me is confidential.”

Nova debated briefly with herself before she dived in. She’d already made the decision to come here; she might as well go all in. “I’m here because my mother told me that she had a relationship with Ace when they were both teenagers and I was the result. He’d already broken up with her, telling her he had commitments back in Arizona, and she never told him about me.”

“Did she have any proof?”

“A few old photos and a couple of stories that she claimed would be something only the two of them would know.”

“The Colton family is powerful.” Nikolas pointed to the paper she’d dropped back onto the coffee table. “Even without his current situation, Ace Colton is a force in Mustang Valley. So’s his family. Are you sure you want to pursue this?”

Whatever she’d expected on the long drive across the country, she’d never considered the idea that she shouldn’t seek out her father. Or worse, that she’d be looked at as having ulterior motives if she did.

The hand she’d laid instinctively against her belly tightened as she imagined what she must look like. Young and pregnant.

Alone.

While she didn’t want to risk telling anyone, even this stranger, about her relationship with Ferdy, she did suddenly have a sense of what she must look like. Despite Nikolas’s kind eyes and willingness to listen to her, a cold sense of dread washed over Nova. “In spite of what you may think of me, I’m not here for his money.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Nikolas scrubbed a hand over the dark stubble that coated his jaw and cheeks. She had a suspicion that he carried a perpetual five o’clock shadow, even with a daily shave, and found the look appealing. Dark and dangerous and, for reasons she couldn’t define, protective.

There was something about the man that made her feel safe. After five months on the run, she hadn’t realized just how badly she needed a few moments to feel that way.

“What I’m trying to say is that the Colton family wields a lot of power and has a lot of press attention. Do you want to wade into that? Especially in your—” he waved a hand “—condition.”

Some small voice whispered that she should have been insulted by his words. But instead, there was something in the gesture that struck her as inordinately cute and she couldn’t resist a moment of fun. “I’m not pregnant.”

His eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, an “I’m sorry” already spilling out when Nova started laughing.

“It’s just too fun to mess with people. Even if you deserved it because you didn’t abide by the golden rule of pregnancy conversation.”

He apparently didn’t see the same humor as she did and the wariness in his gaze was evident. “Which is what?”

“Unless a woman tells you she’s pregnant or you see the baby actually coming out of her uterus, all comments are off the table.”

“Oh. Um.”

She took pity and laid a hand on his arm once more. Just like the first time she’d touched him, she didn’t miss the firm strength there. “I’m teasing you again. It’s totally clear that I’m pregnant. But you do bring up a good point about the Coltons. They’ve got a lot of attention right now and a long-lost kid—with a baby of her own on the way—might be a little much.”

Since walking into Nikolas Slater’s office, Nova had gotten the distinct impression that not much ruffled the man. So it was empowering to see that she’d shaken him a bit.

It was equally impressive to see him take the conversation back firmly in hand. “Why don’t you come into my office and tell me your story? The whole story. We can game-plan from there.”

“But you don’t want my case.”

“I don’t not want your case. But you may not want me for your case.”

Her gaze dropped to her stomach before heading back up to meet his. “I’m not exactly in a position to be picky right now.”

“You may be once I tell you my side of things.” He gestured toward his office. “Come on back and take a seat.”

She followed him, taking in her surroundings as she walked back. The total office space was small, but he’d made the most of it. His cherrywood desk held minimal clutter—not much beyond his computer and large monitor, a few small files and a photo of what she guessed was his mother.

Interesting, Nova considered as she continued on around the room. No photos of a girlfriend or wife and family. In fact, very little personal detail at all.

Was he a neat freak?

Unbidden, an image of Ferdy’s immaculate office came back to her. The cool, sleek furniture. The pink marble in the bathroom. Even the thick-cut glass decanter and glasses he’d kept in both his outer and inner office.