Colton's Fugitive Family. Jennifer MoreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
finally found her, relieved that she was the woman supposedly named Chelsey Carter whom he’d been tracking, and unable to deny that his relief stemmed from something much more emotional. She could handle herself and he felt bad for doubting her innocence, for going after her with more determination than he’d ever had for any other fugitive. Devlin Harrington had proved himself very dangerous, paying off fake witnesses and killing all those grooms. He’d do anything to preserve his evil way of life. More than he wanted to make amends for doubting her, Lucas wanted to protect Demi until the real Groom Killer was captured. One problem with that? Demi hadn’t liked him before he started hunting for her.
“How did you find me?” Demi asked.
Her demeanor had changed. She’d softened. Had she begun to believe him? He studied her unreadable mouth and the slight angle of her face. Were her eyebrows raised a little more? The easing of tension would do that. But Lucas knew this woman more than she realized. She might have dropped some of her guard, but she most definitely did not believe him.
“Do you mind putting that gun away?”
She still held it aimed at him.
“If I was going to hurt you, or bring you back to Red Ridge against your will, I’d have already done it, Demi.”
“You always were so sure of yourself.”
He was a good bounty hunter. “I could say the same about you.”
Her eyebrows twitched as though she hadn’t expected him to say that, as though doubting his subtle compliment.
“How did you find me?” she asked again.
He moved away from the window and the Christmas tree, nearly certain she wouldn’t shoot him. He took in her cabin. Simply furnished, but tastefully done, she’d made herself a home while she hid. At the kitchen island, he pulled a stool out and sat.
Demi stayed where she was with her gun still ready, waiting for an answer.
“I checked new and recent residents of surrounding towns and only one name came up as having no history until a few years ago—Chelsey Carter. The timing was off, of course, since you’ve only been on the run for a year. But I knew you could have found a way to fudge dates, so it was worth checking out. I wasn’t sure if it was you,” he said.
“That explains why you seemed surprised to see me,” she said.
“How did you manage to get set up here? The false name. This cabin.” He glanced around. “This is nice.”
“I didn’t have to fudge dates. I helped a fugitive escape a few years ago. She was innocent. This cabin belonged to her under a false name. She helped me the way I helped her.”
“What fugitive?”
“Maddie Morrison. When she was on the run, she came here. One of her family members gave her enough money to buy this place and helped her clear her name. I assumed her fake identity, the one she set up for herself as Chelsey Carter. She took all the furniture with her when she left, so all I had to do was furnish and decorate.”
“Didn’t anyone in town get suspicious about another Chelsey Carter appearing every now and then?”
Demi smiled. “I went to town in disguise. I bought some hippie attire and a wig so I looked more like Chelsey. We have the same eye color. She’s a little shorter than me, but not by much. Also, Chelsey didn’t go into town very much, just to buy food. She never talked to anyone, either. No one noticed me, at least, not in a suspicious or curious way.”
There was only one question left to ask.
Where was the baby?
Police had found a positive pregnancy test in her bathroom the day she’d fled. And just a few months ago, when she’d texted her brother from a burner phone to declare her innocence, Shane Colton had asked how the baby was, and Demi replied that he was fine.
Lucas looked around and saw no sign an infant lived here. He would have found her sooner if she’d had the baby under her own name. She must have gone to the hospital as Chelsey Carter. For months, until Demi had confirmed it herself via that text, her being pregnant, giving birth on the run, were rumors. He’d always hoped the rumors were true—and that the father of the baby was Bo, her ex-fiancé, his late brother. When he’d believed her guilty, he’d thought Bo getting her pregnant and then dumping her served as great motive to want to kill him. After he realized she hadn’t killed his brother, he’d wanted the rumors to be true. A part of Bo would live on. Lucas’s nephew.
“Where’s the baby?” he asked.
“What baby?”
He watched her face closely. She’d answered deadpan. But he knew about her text to her brother Shane, who worked closely with the RRPD. Why was she lying?
“Is it Bo’s?” he asked as though he didn’t believe her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
There it was, that ever-so-slight flinch of her eyes. She often did that when he made her falter.
“Come on, Demi, everyone knows you were pregnant when you fled. You were spotted—definitely pregnant—before you came here.”
Could she have lied to her brother about the baby? Maybe she’d lost the baby. He swallowed.
“I did move a lot, from hotel to hotel and town to town. I adopted disguises.”
She’d disguised herself as a pregnant woman? Disappointment filled him. So, there was no baby? No nephew? Bo would be gone forever, leaving no trace of the younger man with whom Lucas had been so close.
But what about the pregnancy test?
She put the pistol down on the counter and leaned her hip against the edge. She seemed entirely too relaxed. He began to suspect an act.
“I’m a little chilled.” She rubbed her arms and left the kitchen. “I’m just going to get a sweater.”
He watched her disappear down the hall. He leaned to the right but couldn’t see all the way to the end. Standing, he walked to the threshold. A light was on in one room. Another door led to a bathroom and the one next to it must be for a second bedroom. Passing the bathroom, he peered into the first bedroom. It contained a twin bed and a dresser and not much more. It was a small room. At the end of the hall, he looked into the lit bedroom. A queen-sized bed with a colorful quilt, dresser and chair filled it. He looked back toward the entrance to the spare bedroom. The wall ended before the linen closet.
Where had Demi gone?
He entered her bedroom. There was no bathroom off this room. He opened the closet. Just clothes hanging and some folded on an upper shelf. Shoes lined the floor. He parted the clothes. No passage there. Hurrying to the hall, he opened the linen closet. Nothing unusual here.
In the spare bedroom he noticed there was no window on the left wall and the window straight ahead was right at the room’s corner. He went there and looked outside. Snow fell much thicker now, but when he looked left, he saw the house extended farther than this room.
Going back to Demi’s closet, he shoved the clothes aside and searched the back wall. There had to be a hidden entrance in here. He felt the paneling until his fingers caught on a latch. Opening that, he found himself inside a nursery. The cradle was empty and the barred window was open. He shut it to keep out the cold.
He ran to the front of the cabin. Bursting through the front door, he saw Demi running for the Jeep through the heavy fall of snow. She held a bundle in front of her—the baby.
She had lied to him. She did have a baby.
“Demi! Wait!” he shouted.
Just then, gunfire erupted through the blowing wind and snow. Demi shrieked and had to duck in front of the Jeep. Lucas took out his gun and tried to determine the location of the gunman. It was difficult to see.
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