33. Colton
Elastic Heart - Sia
Three hours into my detainment, the door to the interview room opens.
Being a Korhonen afforded me the gold-star treatment so I was never tossed in the cells, and most of the officers have been in and out of the interview room with coffee and water.
Is it fair? No. But everyone at the station has someone in their family on my payroll.
I’ll take it seeing as this is a waste of time more than anything else.
I glance at Marc Robard when I spot him behind Terry. “What’s going on?”
“Your alibi checks out,” Marc states. “You’re being released.”
Terry folds his arms across his chest. “I guess you’re the reason my detachment’s been overrun by sharks?”
My lips twitch into a smile. “The triplets okay?”
“They’re at the Bar 9 and one of my men is scarred from getting an earful from Juliette McAllister.”
Nodding my understanding as I’m released pending further investigation, it’s only when I step outside that I ask Marc, “Why am I being released early? What alibi?”
“Susanne informed the RCMP that she came to visit you for lunch. Brought you sandwiches which you ate together.
“She has more bite than you’d think. Terry mentioned you’d never said a word about sharing a meal, and she told him that you’re too much of a gentleman to kiss and tell.”
My brows lift at the statement and what she implied, but the cocktail of emotions that news stirs in me is both complex and simple. Simple because she’s the only reason my ass won’t be moldering away in that interview room for another twenty-one hours, complex because she perjured herself on my behalf.
Another man, one who’d also perjured himself and falsified an alibi for their now-wife, might think this was a case of balances being redressed. But though years may separate us, I know her well enough to discern this has nothing to do with scores being settled…
“What about the triplets?”
“They were in school at the time of the car accident. Several witnesses saw them in the lunchroom.” He clears his throat. “Apparently, they were in the middle of some sort of skit? Most of the faculty as well as the student body can vouch for their whereabouts.”
My brows lift. “Skit?”
“Involved a Sia song and nude leotards. I didn’t ask.”
“Sounds elaborate.”
“Indeed. Contact me immediately if they bring you in for questioning again.”
“Will do.”
Thanking him, we shake hands and part ways beside my truck. I jump behind the wheel and take off for home.
When I make it to the homestead, Zee’s sitting on the steps that lead to the veranda. The sight of my truck has her rushing over to me. I don’t even get the chance to apply the handbrake—she’s dragging the door open and demanding, “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Everything’s fine,” I attempt to soothe. “You didn’t need to lie for me.”
Finger prostrate, she jabs me in the arm. “Bet your ass I did! I’ve already been tried by the court of Pigeon Creek. I’m not about to let you go through that when you’re innocent! I was so scared, Colton. So scared. For you. For Callan.”
Her mentioning Callan is the reason I alight from the truck and draw her into my arms, pressing my lips to her forehead as I hold her close.
“Thank you.” I sigh. “Callan wouldn’t have taken it well if?—”
“No. He’d have freaked the hell out,” she mutters, hands settling at my waist as she clings to me in turn. “Much as I did when I read your text message. I was in a conference call with ‘do not disturb’ mode on or I’d have reacted faster. Are they insane? Why would you kill Lydia Armstrong?!”
“The truck was found in the—” The sound of a whinny has me jerking both of us around on the hunt for it. When I see Fen out of his stall, I grit my teeth. “That Harry goddamn Houdini horse! How the hell did he get out this time?”
“Huh?” She peers over my arm when Fen approaches us, calm as can be, nuzzling into our shoulders before nickering proudly. “Oh!”
“How did you get out?” I grumble, rubbing my hand over the bridge of his nose before gently flicking the tip. His nostrils flutter. “Please tell me you didn’t impregnate another mare.”
Zee clears her throat. “He makes a habit of getting loose?”
“He’s the reason one of our older mares, Harriet, is pregnant… I retired her from the breeding stock three years ago. You’re an asshole, Fen.”
“Don’t call him that!” she chides.
“I’ll call him worse if he’s going to be a daddy again.” Because Fen’s like a puppy, I expect him to wander off until I can give him attention—I’ve spoiled him. “Look, Zee, I didn’t hurt Lydia?—”
“Duh.”
“You didn’t have to lie on my behalf. I was only being questioned. It was routine?—”
“I wasn’t going to let them treat you like a criminal!” she grinds out, fire in her eyes. “This way, they won’t. They’ll leave you alone.”
Her strident belief in me, a belief that’s tempered by concern for my family, has guilt riddling through me like worms in a rotten apple.
I didn’t have the same faith in her.
I should have.
I failed her but she showed up for me.
Squeezing her shoulder, I rumble, “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” she says with a sniff. “You told him about Clyde calling me.”
It’s a statement, not a question.
“He asked you about it?”
“He did. How that sergeant’s kept his job is insanity. The fire passed without any arrests when it was arson, Marcy went missing on his watch, and now this! His main suspects are you and the triplets when she died mumbling Clyde’s goddamn name.”
“You don’t have to be scared?—”
Her chin firms and a militant gleam quenches the fire. “I’m not scared anymore. I’m furious. I’m pissed off at our detachment’s incompetence. I’m sick of this, do you hear me?”
I hide a smile. “I hear you.”
“Good. You will not be going to prison for a crime you didn’t commit. Understood?”
More amusement filters through me. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Right, now we have that settled, I’ve got some work to do. You need to sort out Fen. I’ll see you at dinner.”
My brows lift at that news, but she steps back and away. I can no more stop myself from snagging a hold of her hand and returning her to my embrace than I can stop the sun from chasing the moon.
It’s too easy to press my lips to hers.
To cup her cheeks.
To tilt her head.
It’s too easy to imbue my kiss with my thanks but also my desire.
This woman is a fighter. If I hadn’t known that before today, I know it now.
Her defense of me, the lengths she’ll go to to shield not only me but my brother sends bolts of desire through my veins, decimating me for this woman who I call ‘wife’ but who is so. Much. More. To. Me.
Her mouth opens, letting me in. Her arms wrap around my waist—our hunger is mutual in its ferocity.
And relief and want and need coalesce inside me because we’re in this together.
This.
Tongues tangling, lips seeking, breath mingling—this kiss has her arching into me, her hips chasing the brand of my dick. My hands settle on her shoulders because this is more than about sex.
This is life.
My lips brush her ear but though there are a thousand words I want to spill, I can’t seem to say any of them.
She sighs. “I need to work.” Her fingertips dig into my chest as she pulls away, but how she lingers tells me it’s the last thing she wants.
With our gazes locked on one another, she rubs her kiss-sore lips with her knuckles and retreats a pace.
She fought for me.
The notion takes over my brain.
“Watch where you’re going,” I rumble as her hip nearly bumps into the truck.
Her throat bobs. “My eyes are where they need to be.”
A soft growl escapes me. “More fighting talk, Zee?”
It’s a taunt but she lifts her chin, turns and strides off toward the main house. “Maybe I’m just waiting for you to catch up.”
“I’m plenty caught up,” I holler at her.
“Says the man stroking his horse and not his wife,” she retorts, lifting her hand over her head and flipping me the bird.
My knuckles freeze mid-rub of Fen’s muzzle and I let out a bark of laughter. When she glances at me over her shoulder, her grin in place, we lock eyes, the sizzle of need arcing between us like a lightning bolt until Fen nickers, dragging my attention from the only place it wants to be.
I don’t even get the chance to track her path into the house—she’s already gone.
Goddamn, her kisses are becoming a craving of mine. I want nothing more than to chase her down, show her exactly how caught up I am, but I don’t.
Can’t.
My goddamn responsibilities will be the death of me.
“What do you want, mischief?” I ask Fen when he butts my arm.
At his nicker, I shake my head, close the truck door, then grab my phone.
Scraping a hand over my jaw, my attention split a thousand ways, duty and responsibilities bearing down… all I can focus on is my wife.
Are we finally on the same page?
I can only fucking hope so.
Switching to my texts, I contact Callan and keep it light.
Me: Wanna explain to me how Fen escaped from his stall?
Callan: WHAT?!
Me: I put him there myself before I had to leave for town.
Callan: Dammit. I’ll figure it out. I’m almost home.
Me: Lydia Armstrong was killed today.
Callan: I know. It’s all the school’s been gossiping about since the triplets were escorted off school grounds by the RCMP.
Me: Their truck was found on our land. I was brought in for questioning too. I’m home now.
Callan: Everything okay?
Me: Of course. Might not be here when you get back. But will see you at dinner.
Callan: Gotcha
That done and the situation downplayed, I head for the nearest tack room on the homestead, suit Fen up with a harness, and make my way across Seven Cs’ turf and onto the Bar 9.
It’d have been easier to drive there, but I’m a cowboy—why would I drive when I can ride?
The journey’s a chance to decompress too.
I wasn’t worried. I didn’t mow down Lydia Armstrong. But that doesn’t mean having Zee’s alibi won’t make my life a hell of a lot easier.
Much like their sibling, the triplets are waiting for me at the border of our land.
Calder, ever outspoken, yells, “We didn’t do it. And if we did, we’d never have dumped the truck on your land. We like you.”
My lips curve at his declaration, but we’re far away enough from one another that I can erase my smile before I reach him.
As I jump from Fen’s back, Carson mutters, “He’s so fucking cool and he doesn’t even know it.”
“Who rides without a saddle?” Colby agrees with a hiss.
Barely withholding the urge to laugh, I turn to them, demanding, “What happened?”
“Nothing! We didn’t even know the truck was ready to drive. If we did, I wouldn’t have had to deal with Ten-Hand Tracy today,” Carson grumbles.
Calder continues, “Didn’t you hear what I said? If we’d done it, we wouldn’t have dumped it on your land.”
His sullen tone has me rolling my eyes. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, guys. Thank God you were up to mischief when Lydia was killed.”
Colby smirks. “It was a full choreographed routine.”
“I’ll bet,” I counter. “I was told it was memorable.”
“Lucky that it was today,” Carson admits. “Yesterday, we snuck out to practice.”
My jaw works at that news. “Clyde targeted you. Do you know why?”
Calder bites off, “We didn’t do it.”
“I’m not saying you did, dammit. I’m saying the opposite.”
Colby clears his throat. “We didn’t like Mrs. Armstrong.”
“Why not?”
“She was a bitch to Zee. Not that Zee’d ever say anything. You think spitting in Zee’s coffee was the first time she caused our sister trouble?
“Don’t know how Clyde would have known we hated her guts though.”
“Watch your backs,” I order. “Tell me if you see Clyde hanging around—here or in town.”
I rub Fen’s muzzle when he nudges my shoulder as Carson asks, “You still coming over to teach us how to lasso tomorrow?”
“‘Course I am.”
That they’re hellions is to be expected. Juliette might have been a hard ass with Walker and Zee, but these three have gotten away with…
My mind skips over the word.
Even if they didn’t have an alibi, I believe them when they say they wouldn’t have dumped the truck on my land.
As for the accident, Colby has a weird sense of justice and the others are equally as outraged by Lydia’s apparent mistreatment of their sister.
Mistreatment that, I realize, they believe kept their sister away from them.
Still, I snag Carson around the neck and haul him into my side so I can scratch my knuckles on his head.
As he yells, “Get off, man,” I ignore him and drawl, “No more pranks. Not for another couple months.”
“Even if it saved our asses from a vehicular manslaughter charge?” Colby exclaims as I jump onto Fen’s back.
“Even if.” Under my breath, I mumble, “Little shits,” before Fen and I take off for home.