Colton Manhunt

She’ll do anything to find her missing sister.

Only a Colton cop can crack this case.

The last thing K-9 Sergeant Spencer Colton needs is another routine missing-persons case. But Katrina Perry is insistent on finding her twin sister—at all costs. And as things become anything but routine, so do Spencer’s feelings for Katrina. Someone will stop at nothing to get Katrina out of the way, though. And only Spencer has a chance of keeping her safe...

JANE GODMAN writes in a variety of romance genres, including paranormal, gothic and romantic suspense. Jane lives in England and loves to travel to European cities that are steeped in history and romance—Venice, Dubrovnik and Vienna are among her favourites. Jane is married to a lovely man and is mum to two grown-up children.

Also by Jane Godman

Colton 911: Family Under Fire

Colton’s Secret Bodyguard

Colton and the Single Mum

Covert Kisses

The Soldier’s Seduction

Secret Baby, Second Chance

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Colton Manhunt

Jane Godman

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90506-4

COLTON MANHUNT

© 2020 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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For my lovely husband, Stewart, who is gone but never

forgotten. We don’t say “goodbye.”

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

The last ten minutes of every puppy class was off-leash time. The dogs, who were all three months old, had spent almost an hour involved in an intense training session. Now was their chance to release some energy and socialize.

Katrina Perry, owner and head trainer at the Look Who’s Walking dog-training center, knew this informal period would be more stressful for the human clients than the canines. Let their precious babies go free around these other dogs? What if they ran away, got scared, or were bitten by the class bully? Since this was the first session in an eight-week program, she outlined a few rules.

“I need you to remain seated at all times while the pups interact. If you see your pet engaging in something that looks like aggression, don’t be alarmed. Play fighting is a natural behavior and the way they engage with the world.” She gestured to Suzie Calles, her assistant trainer. “If there is a genuine problem, one of us will intervene. If your pup, or any other one, appears shy around the others and comes to you, please don’t pet them or pick them up. The aim is to get them to relate to the other animals, not the humans.”

There were eight dogs in class today, and Katrina had already figured out what would happen. The vocal German shepherd would fall silent the instant another pup approached him. The hyperactive rottweiler would tear around the training ground without even noticing the other dogs. The timid Siberian husky would find somewhere to hide. The others would make some noise before starting to play.

She had been working with dogs since she had volunteered at the local kennels in high school. Initially, her only qualification had been her love of animals but, as her skills had increased, she’d known that this was the only career for her. Yes, she had an intuition where her canine clients were concerned, but she also had years of experience to back up her instincts. Her business had a good name and that had been built on trust.

There was only one pup she had any worries about, and her concern centered more on his looks than his behavior. The little mutt reminded Katrina of another dog she knew, one she hadn’t seen for a while.

“Hey, the brown-and-white one looks just like—”

“I know.” Cutting off Suzie in midsentence made her feel mean, but she didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of a workday. If she started to have the conversation Suzie wanted, she’d inevitably get upset. The little dog she was thinking of and its owner meant too much to her, and, anyway... “Whoa. Bulldog emergency.” Katrina was glad of the distraction.

Drummond, the English bulldog, unable to keep up with his speedier classmates, had decided to slow them down by sitting on them.

“After a count of three,” Katrina said, then she and Suzie lifted the muscle-bound little guy. Their actions released a Yorkshire terrier and a bichon frise, both of whom barked delightedly and tried to encourage Drummond into a repeat performance of sitting on them. As if wounded by the affront to his dignity, the bulldog ignored them and strutted away to gnaw on a fence post.

Minutes later, Katrina brought the session to a close. As they cleared the training ground and set up for the advanced obedience class after lunch, she was conscious of Suzie sending troubled sidelong glances in her direction.

Eventually, she sighed. “You’re right. The little brown-and-white mutt reminded me of Dobby.”

She sensed Suzie relax slightly. They’d worked together for nearly four years and had become good friends. Until now, there had never been any tension between them. And Katrina didn’t have enough friends to let it become an issue. “Have you heard from Eliza recently?” Suzie asked.

“That obvious, huh?” Katrina asked. “I thought I was doing a good job of covering up how worried I am about my troubled twin.”

“Maybe someone who doesn’t know you well wouldn’t have noticed,” Suzie said. “But you don’t usually check your cell phone every two minutes. And, now and then, I’ve had to call your name twice because you’ve been lost in your own world. But your reaction to the Dobby look-alike was what clinched it for me.”

“Poor Dobby.” Katrina managed a smile. “With looks like his, I always found it doubly sad that he had such a fondness for the ladies.”

Dobby was her twin sister’s dog. With his big, floppy ears, sparse hair and lopsided jaw, he would never win a beauty contest. What he lacked in looks, he made up for in charm. Dobby was the happiest, most self-confident dog Katrina had ever known. But Dobby wasn’t the problem...

“I hadn’t heard from Eliza for months prior to the earthquake. That wasn’t unusual. She’s never been great at keeping in touch.”

Suzie knew all about Katrina’s sister’s checkered past. There was no point in trying to hide it. Not when Eliza could turn up at the training center at any time, either down on her luck, or high on drugs...or both. Or when Katrina might get a call from the police or a hospital and have to drop everything. Eliza claimed to have been clean for over a year, but that was a familiar story.

Then, two months ago, Mustang Valley had been hit by an earthquake. The area was rural and spread out, limiting the overall impact, but many homes and buildings in the small downtown district had been damaged. Since she hadn’t known where Eliza was living at the time, Katrina had fired off a series of increasingly frantic messages to her sister, hearing back from Eliza after a few days.

“I didn’t know if she was even in Mustang Valley when the quake hit.” Having finished setting up for the afternoon session, they went through to the small staff area to clean up before snatching a quick lunch. “I considered reporting her missing again, but this time I had no evidence that she was.”

Suzie shook her head. “I wish you’d told me you were dealing with all of this.”

Katrina shrugged a shoulder. “This is what it’s been like all our adult lives. And it was the same with our mom when she was alive.” She sucked in a breath. Although she didn’t talk about it, she figured Suzie could guess how hard it had been for her. Her mother’s drug and alcohol dependency had shaped her life, and Eliza’s, in different ways. In Katrina’s case, it had made her view close relationships as something to be avoided.

“Addiction makes people selfish. Eventually, after a day or two of almost constant messaging on my part, Eliza replied to say she was fine. She was still drug-free. Her apartment had been destroyed, but I was to stop worrying because she’d found a wonderful relief organization called the Affirmation Alliance Group. They had given her somewhere to stay and were helping her find her best self.”

“I’ve seen the AAG out and about since the earthquake,” Suzie said. “They seem to be doing some wonderful relief work. Everyone in town speaks highly of them.”

“I know.” Katrina moved toward the coffee machine. “They have a guest ranch about ten miles outside of the town center and, from everything I hear, it’s very warm and welcoming. At first, I was pleased that Eliza had gone there.”

“At first?”

“She hasn’t answered any of my other messages. And...” She wrinkled her nose. “‘Find my best self’? That just didn’t sound like Eliza.”

“Why don’t you drive out there and see how she’s doing?”

When Suzie put it like that, it seemed so simple. With anyone other than Eliza, maybe it would have been. But Katrina had always handled her twin with caution. Eliza was volatile and vulnerable. It would only take one wrong word to turn their fragile relationship into a nonexistent one.

If she took action and things went wrong, it would be her fault. Remaining passive had become her default position, her approach to life. So what if it was a dull, lonely place to be? Having friends, relationships, a social life... Those things were overrated.

“Yeah. Maybe one evening—”

“No.” Suzie took her gently by the shoulders and turned her toward the door. “I meant, why don’t you go now?”

“Because we have a class in twenty minutes?” Katrina dug her heels in like one of her own problem pups.

“Laurence has nothing on his timetable until six. He can leave the paperwork he has planned and assist me with this class. Tomorrow, I’ll help him catch up.” She handed Katrina a sandwich and a bottle of water. “You can eat in the car and thank me later.”

Spencer Colton pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to relieve the slight headache that was forming behind his eyes. From beneath the desk, a faint rhythmic snoring was evidence that Boris, his two-year-old chocolate Labrador retriever, was sleeping off their strenuous, early morning training session. Not for the first time, he envied his canine partner’s ability to relax in between jobs. As the human half of the team, Spencer had read and reread the file into the shooting of Payne Colton so many times he knew most of the details by heart.

But they still weren’t getting any closer to catching the shooter.

Although Spencer was a distant cousin to Payne, chairman of the board of Colton Oil and owner of the prosperous Rattlesnake Ridge Ranch, the two branches of the family weren’t close. The thought caused Spencer a moment’s distraction. Close? His own upbringing had been a world away from the luxurious lifestyle of that enjoyed by Payne’s family.

Despite his riches, Payne had been going through a rough patch prior to the shooting that had left him in a coma. Back in January, an anonymous email had been sent to the six board members of Colton Oil informing them that the company CEO, and Payne’s oldest son, Asa “Ace” Colton, was not a Colton by blood. Subsequent DNA testing proved that the bombshell claim was true.

Although Spencer didn’t know them well, he felt for the family unit that had been shattered by the email. The news was bad enough, and no one deserved to hear it in such a horrible way. The anonymous sender had clearly intended it to cause maximum devastation. It was his job to investigate, and he would do it with understanding toward any family in the same situation, but the Colton link made him even more sympathetic.

The family, torn apart at the news, had been in the process of investigating what could have happened. A mystery unfolded around the events in the hospital on Christmas Eve forty years ago, when Ace was born. It appeared that there was a nurse who’d quit on Christmas day after giving birth to a baby son, and there was a possibility that she’d switched infants. But there were so many unanswered questions around that scenario. The baby boy of Payne and his then wife, Tessa, had been born sickly. Why would anyone have switched a healthy child with a sick one?

Events took another dramatic turn when Payne was working late at the Colton Oil building one night. A cleaning woman had heard a gunshot, footsteps, then a stairwell door shoved open and banging against the wall, followed by silence. She ran toward where the gunshot originated and found Payne on his back on the floor of his office, bleeding from two wounds in his chest. He was rushed to Mustang Valley General Hospital, but had not regained consciousness. Doctors were uncertain if he ever would.

“Sergeant?” Spencer looked up from his reflections to find Kerry Wilder, the rookie detective who had been involved in the case right from the start, standing close to his desk. “You wanted to talk to me about the Colton shooting?”

He leaned back, glad of a chance to straighten his spine. “Just prior to the attempt on Payne Colton’s life, Ace issued a threat against him, is that right? Please remind me of the circumstances.”

“When it turned out that Ace really wasn’t a Colton, Payne ousted him as CEO of the company. It’s in the bylaws that the CEO must be a Colton by blood. Ace was devastated and told Payne, ‘You’ll regret this, Dad!’ There has been speculation about whether it was intended as a threat. Ace Colton swears it wasn’t.”

“You interviewed Ace soon after the shooting. What was your impression of him?”

“He was very upset about everything that had happened, and being the suspect in an attempted murder added to his emotional turmoil,” Kerry said. “My fiancé, Rafe, is Ace’s adopted brother.”

“Is Chief Barco aware of that potential conflict of interest?” Spencer asked. He knew Kerry would play things by the book, but he needed to double-check.

“Yes, and he’s happy for me to be part of the investigation,” Kerry confirmed. “For what it’s worth, Rafe doesn’t believe Ace is capable of attempting to kill their father.”

Privately, Spencer didn’t think the opinion of a sibling counted for much of a character reference, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“In your report, you’ve stated that security camera footage from Colton Oil shows the shooter appears to be of slight build, five-eight or five-nine, in a black ski mask and covered head to toe in black.”

He flicked through the pages of Kerry’s report, refreshing his memory.

“That means there was no way to tell gender or age.”

It also meant they couldn’t rule Ace Colton in or out of the list of suspects. It was frustrating, but typical of this investigation.

“Joanne Bates, the cleaning woman, thinks she heard a man’s voice say ‘Mom,’ followed by the F word. Her vacuum was running, so she can’t be sure. And Dee Walton, Payne Colton’s administrative assistant, found an Arizona State Sun Devils pin in Payne’s office.”

Kerry nodded. “That was weird because Payne had no affiliation with Arizona State, and he wasn’t much into football. There’s speculation in the family that the shooter could have dropped it.”

“Speculation seems to be all we’ve got right now.” Frustration was a tight knot in Spencer’s gut as he placed the pages back in order. “Thank you. This is a detailed account of the investigation so far.”

“It’s not much to work with, I know.” Kerry looked apologetic.

“You can only report on what you’re given. This isn’t a murder case, so we don’t have the same resources. But the shooter obviously meant for Payne to die, and the doctors aren’t hopeful about his chances of recovery.” Spencer took a slug from the hour-old cup of coffee on his desk. “This has the feel of a case that’s going cold.”

The case seemed to be bogged down in uncertainty and doubt. There was nothing which he could grasp and make a proper start. Used to being able to give his team direction, Spencer was irritated by the lack of activity. Determined to take back control, he had decided the forward momentum must come from him.

“Is there anything we can do to change that?” It seemed that Kerry was equally unhappy at the slow progress.

“As I said, the shooter wanted Payne dead. If he hears that his victim is showing signs of recovery, he may make another move.”

“You’re planning to flush him out with false information?” Kerry said. “Isn’t that a risky strategy?”

“Payne won’t be in any danger, and I’ve been working closely with the family on this plan. When I spread the word that his health is improving, I’ll have him moved to a safe place and put a cop in his old room as a decoy.”

With no leads, a sting operation felt like the only logical move. If Payne defied the odds and did start to improve, his attacker might decide to come back for a second try. This way, the police would be one step ahead in an inquiry that otherwise felt like it was going nowhere.

“I’ll let the family know the details when they are finalized,” he told Kerry. “For now, just keep me informed about any new developments.”

When she’d gone, he glanced out of his office window, the bright afternoon sunlight catching him off guard. Maybe he should go out and get some lunch. A wry smile crossed his lips. Who was he kidding? When he had a caseload like his, lunch was usually a curled-up sandwich from the canteen and another cup of coffee that would grow cold by the time he got around to drinking it.

Although he hadn’t said anything aloud, there was a grunt of agreement from under the desk. As far as Boris was concerned, the eating arrangements were never good enough. With a sigh, Spencer flipped over the Payne Colton report and opened another file.

The Affirmation Alliance Group Center was surrounded by beautiful Arizona countryside. There was nothing around for miles in any direction, just acres of unspoiled land, palm trees and a shimmering hint of mountains in the distance. Katrina, having set out in response to Suzie’s prompting, decided that, if this was isolation, she liked it.

After leaving the highway, she drove along a half-mile, tree-lined dirt drive to the main ranch house. The building had a woodsy, fancy log-cabin exterior and a large triangular roof, and was two stories high. Large, hunter-green gates were pinned back, as though always open, while big potted plants in front added to the welcoming feel.

Since the earthquake, she’d seen the AAG had been carrying out good work around the town, helping those affected. From handing out food parcels, to helping rebuild homes and offering accommodation to those worst affected, they had been highly visible in their efforts. Everyone Katrina had spoken to had been full of praise for the job they were doing.

She didn’t know what she’d expected from their headquarters, but it wasn’t anything as warm and feel-good as this. Feeling slightly foolish now about her fears for Eliza, she parked her car next to a row of other vehicles. Her suspicions were the product of years of worrying about her sister. She should be glad Eliza had found this place. Even though she felt a bit reassured by the center’s ambience, she was still worried for her sister. She might as well go inside and see if there was anything her twin needed from her. That way, she could see for herself how Eliza was doing in these surroundings.

At the same time that she crossed the parking lot, a man walked out of the building. As he strode across the porch and down the steps, his swagger and clothing drew Katrina’s attention to him. Skater dude. That’s how Eliza would have described him. He had handsome, rock-star features and shoulder-length hair peeking out from beneath a beanie. With his faded jeans and matching jacket, scuffed high-tops and graffiti-covered T-shirt, he was just the type her sister would have been drawn to. With a guy like him around, Eliza would never leave this place.

Although she told herself it was wrong to judge on appearances, she knew from experience just how good Eliza was at picking the wrong kind of guy. It was an upsetting thought, one that triggered a series of memories of rescuing her sister from bad relationships with men who strutted just like the one she’d just seen. Despair washed over her again as she headed inside the building. She had to find Eliza and see if she needed help.