The Coltons of Texas

“Rest a minute. I’ll go meet them at the door.”

* * *

A lifetime spent around law-enforcement professionals had given Ethan a wary level of respect for them. Anyone who put their life on the line for the safety of others would always have his admiration.

But he sure as hell didn’t trust them.

Cops saw too much. Listened too much. And, at times, drew conclusions where there were none. The two cops currently sitting at Lizzie’s kitchen table fell firmly in the latter category.

After a quick look in the baby’s room and a series of innocuous questions, Officer McNulty dived in. Ethan pegged him for about a quarter century on the force and a know-it-all, and he wasn’t disappointed.

“Miss Conner. How long have these incidents been going on?”

“They started a few months ago at work. I gave all these details to Detective Bell when I filed a complaint a few weeks ago.”

McNulty kept his smile broad, but his implacable tone never wavered. “And we appreciate that. But Officer Warren and I would like to get a sense for ourselves.”

Lizzie walked through the same details she’d provided Ethan with the day before. By the time she got to the rattle incident, she was visibly shaken.

Ethan laid a hand over hers and didn’t miss McNulty’s pointed stare at the protective gesture. He leveled one of his own on the cop and was pleased to see the man look away first.

He might have an appreciation for the law, but he refused to be cowed by it.

McNulty turned things over to his partner, and the broad smile indicated Officer Warren was clearly playing good cop today. He took a softer tack, starting with nice, easy questions about the baby and when it was due. Sweet comments designed to put Lizzie at ease. From the hard flex of her hand beneath his fingers, Ethan knew the officer’s questions had done anything but.

“You say these incidents have been going on about two months now?”

“Yes.”

“That’s also about the time the Alphabet Killer began his rampage.” Warren lobbed that bomb across the table, and Ethan picked it up without a second thought.

“Granite Gulch is clear across Blackthorn County.”

“Yes, Mr. Colton.” Warren’s smile sharpened, a wolf under those sheep’s clothes. “A place your family is well acquainted with.”

“Granite Gulch is my home. My family’s home.”

“It was your father’s home, too.”

The barb hit its mark, and Ethan fought showing any response beyond irritated boredom. “My father’s home is a maximum-security prison, Officer. What’s your point?”

“I’m sure you know.”

“And I’m quite sure I don’t.”

Officer McNulty chose that moment to step in. “Surely you’re well aware of the rumors about your sister, Mr. Colton.”

“The ones that claim my youngest sister has taken up my father’s mantle, killing victims with his same pattern? That rumor, Officer?”

“One and the same.”

“Josie’s innocent!” The words spilled from Lizzie’s lips, her cry echoing around the kitchen and startling them all from the impasse that was quickly brewing.

“Do you know something, Miss Conner? Something that can help the police find whoever is responsible for these murders?”

Lizzie set her jaw, conviction shining from the very depths of her eyes. “Only that it’s not Josie. I know it’s not. She’s not capable of it.”

“People are capable of any number of things, Miss Conner,” Officer McNulty said before standing.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the coffee. Officer Warren and I will be in touch.”

Ethan squeezed Lizzie’s hand, a silent order to stay put, and walked the officers to her front door. “Thank you for coming.”

Officer McNulty took one last glance around the living room before turning his direct stare on Ethan. As the action was meant to intimidate, Ethan simply stood taller, the scrutiny something he’d lived with his entire life.

“Keep an eye on her, Mr. Colton.” McNulty touched the tip of his hat.

The surprising shot of compassion when he’d only expected censure had Ethan nodding, his voice gruff. “Count on it.”

The two officers stepped through the door and Ethan closed it firmly behind them, flipping the locks. Their discussion with the cops continued to roll through his mind on a loop, and he struggled with the way the conversation had shifted from a faceless intruder to his sister.

Josie had been gone for so long. They’d all looked for her, unwilling to give up hope they’d find her, but after repeated disappointment he and his siblings had made a pact to do their best to preserve their sanity. Her disappearance had taken another piece of each of them, carving away what emotional protection each had created after their mother’s death and Matthew’s conviction.

It had been Annabel who’d finally suggested they drop the focused search. They loved their baby sister, but looking for her remained an open wound none of them could heal from. Ethan knew Trevor perpetually kept an FBI file open and followed small leads every now and again. And Sam’s position in the Granite Gulch PD gave him access to the records room, which he hunted through every now and again. Beyond that, they’d all done their best to move on after Josie Colton had vanished at the age of seventeen, seemingly into thin air.

So how had her name now become synonymous with the Alphabet Killer?

“That was fun.” Lizzie stood at the opposite end of the hallway, in front of the kitchen, a half-drunk pot of coffee in her hands.

Her words pulled him from his musings, and Ethan closed the short distance down the hall. “I’m sorry if they upset you.”

“Nothing like feeling like a suspect in your own home.”

“Did the detective assigned to your case make you feel that way?”

“No.” She poured the remaining coffee into his cup before turning toward the sink. “He’s been very kind and understanding. I do think he’s doing his best with limited information.”

“If today’s events are any indication, I don’t think he’s doing enough.” Ethan picked up his mug, the events of the past hour swirling through his mind. In addition to the interrogation, McNulty and Warren had called in a field unit to do a quick dusting of the windowsill for prints. When they’d turned up nothing on the sill, Lizzie had opted to avoid ruining the rest of the room with the mess the powder would make.

“You haven’t met him, Ethan. He’s a good guy. And after that Keystone Cops routine, I’m more than tempted to call Detective Bell. How dare those officers come in here and make it look like we’re criminals?”

“Coltons are an easy target. I’m sorry you got dragged in for fun.”

She slammed a dish towel against the kitchen sink and whirled on him. “Oh, that’s a load of BS and you know it.”

“Oh, really?” Ethan heard the spark in her voice and allowed it to roll over the lingering anger he’d carried all afternoon, igniting like a match to gasoline. He hadn’t intended to say another word about his sister, yet the words spilled out before he could even think to draw them back. “How was this anything but an interrogation of Matthew Colton’s son and a fishing expedition to see if his daughter is a killer?”

“Josie didn’t do it.”

“Tell that to the court of public opinion.”

Lizzie stilled. “Do you think your sister’s the one responsible for the murders?”

“I—” His hand trembled against the handle of his mug, and Ethan left the cup on the table. “No, I don’t.”

“So what is it? If you don’t think Josie’s involved in the murders, what has you so upset?”

“How can you ask me that? We’re here because some faceless bastard is trying to hurt you and the baby. Hell, he was here while we were in the house!”

Lizzie moved toward the table, standing near him but not touching. “I’m upset, too, but I don’t see how these situations are related. The officers were wrong to try and make a connection between what’s happening with the Alphabet Killer and some creepy jerk who’s trying to make my life a living hell.”

“Don’t you see it?”

He didn’t want to scare her—that was the furthest thing from his mind—but how was Lizzie unable to see what was so obvious?

“See what? I realize the murders are on the top of everyone’s mind, especially with a twenty-four–seven news cycle, but what does that have to do with some creep who’s been writing me notes?”

Ethan reached out, unable to keep his distance. But as his hand closed over hers, the flesh beneath his palm soft and warm, he regretted the words that came next.

“Your name begins with an E, Lizzie. Elizabeth is your given name.”

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