Chapter 8
Cal whistled to himself as he parked in the driveway of the house he shared with his father, the house where he’d grown up.
Sure, he’d have thought by now he’d have his own place, maybe be married with kids.
But since his parents’ divorce, he’d taken upon himself the responsibility of keeping an eye on his father.
Dr. Jonathon Colton was a brilliant physician, but he could be absentminded.
A loner. So focused on his work and patients that he sometimes forgot to eat and neglected sleep.
At times, Cal felt like he was the parent, reminding his dad of appointments and apprising him of family news, doing the grocery shopping, cooking and monitoring Jonathon’s health.
The duty had become second nature since his father had been rather absent throughout Callum’s life, and Cal had assumed a number of paternal roles for his siblings.
Especially following his parents’ divorce.
After his mother left the marriage and the family home, Jonathon had become all the more work-focused and closed off. As the oldest child, Cal hadn’t hesitated to step in to fill the void.
Pilot trotted out into the grass and sniffed around, and Cal waited for his dog to finish his business before keying open the mudroom door and standing aside as Pilot squeezed inside first. He was about to flip on the kitchen light when he noticed Pilot’s body going still, his ears pricking with alertness to a sound.
Pilot gave a low growl that made the hair on Cal’s nape bristle.
Someone was in the house—someone that was not his father, since Pilot knew Jonathon and his smell as well as he knew Cal’s scent. And there hadn’t been another car in the driveway, his father’s or anyone else’s.
Cal unsnapped the strap over his service weapon at his hip and edged deeper into the house, wondering why the security alarm on the house hadn’t sounded or sent a notification to his phone.
He heard bumps and rattling sounds coming from upstairs, and he moved quietly through the dark house to the foot of the stairs.
Pilot stayed right beside him, his nose sniffing the air, then lowering to follow the scent up the steps, his canine body taut.
A light glowed from one of the bedrooms upstairs, though he couldn’t tell which one from this angle.
The thumping of footsteps and distinctive squeak of the upstairs hall floorboards told him the intruder was on the move. He hunched low behind the banister and was about to take the stairs when Pilot’s body language shifted. Eased.
His dog’s ears relaxed, and his tail wagged. He gave a friendly woof of greeting.
“Well, hi, Pilot. How are you, ol’ boy?” said a voice Cal knew immediately, and he let his tense shoulders sag in relief.
His younger brother Dylan appeared at the top of the stairs and bent to ruffle Pilot’s fur. When Dylan noticed Cal standing on the bottom step, his smile faltered, and he raised both hands. “Whoa! Don’t shoot, Cal. It’s me.”
Cal let a low grumble roll from his throat and took his time putting his service gun away. “I should shoot you on principle. What are you doing lurking in my house without turning on any lights, much less letting me know you were in town? I thought I had a B and E.”
Dylan, his dark, shaggy hair currently accompanied by unkempt facial hair, lowered his hands and flashed an apologetic grin.
“Sorry, Callum. You’re right. I shoulda texted or something.
I’m just in the habit of not letting anyone know where I am, and so…
” He buzzed his lips and shrugged instead of finishing his excuse.
“Did you disable my security system?” Cal asked, arching an eyebrow. His brother, a special agent with the FBI, was perfectly capable of such, and it would explain why the house alarm hadn’t alerted him.
“No,” Dylan snorted. “I got the code from Dad when I called to let him know I needed to get a few things from my closet. Dad clearly didn’t share the news I was home.”
Cal snorted. “Come on. You’ve met Jonathon Colton. Do I really have to answer that?”
“Again. Sorry for startling you. Although,” Dylan said, coming down the steps with an easy gait, “if you don’t want intruders, you should consider changing your security code now and then. You’ve had the same one for a few years now, haven’t you?”
“I’ve tried changing it before, and Dad invariably forgets that it is changed and sets it off in the middle of the night. He finally asked me just to leave it alone and keep the old code permanently.”
Dylan frowned. “You think that’s a sign of early onset dementia? I mean, he’s only, what? Sixty-two years old?”
Cal shook his head. “He’s mentally as sharp as ever.
He’s just the same overworked, can’t-be-bothered-with-mundane-details-of-life, gives-one-hundred-and-ten-percent-to-his-patients dad we know and love.
Learning changed passwords and security codes are mundane details he doesn’t want to give the extra bandwidth. ”
Dylan nodded his understanding, and after a beat in which they simply stared knowingly at each other, Cal grinned and pulled his younger brother into a bear hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you! Are you between cases? You going to be in town long?”
Dylan pounded his back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
As they stepped back from the embrace, Cal chuckled. “So you can’t answer my questions, I take it?”
Not knowing where Dylan was assigned or what cases he was working was part and parcel of their brother’s job with the FBI.
Cal and his siblings had gotten used to the sporadic and surprise visits Dylan paid the family, only when one assignment was finished and his next was still pending.
They’d celebrated a number of “Dylan Christmases” in January or even May, and Thanksgiving dinner almost always had an empty seat at the Colton table.
Dylan lifted a shoulder. “Price of the job, man.”
Cal sighed. “Yeah, I get it. Although if you are still in town Saturday, the family’s all coming here for our annual bash for the Fourth. Fireworks, food, volleyball. The works. Hope you can hang around long enough for that. I know everyone would love to lay eyes on you.”
His brother pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “I think I can make that work.”
“Great! So are you staying with me and Dad for a few days then?”
“No. I have…other arrangements. I’m doing a little work in the area and—” Dylan waved a hand vaguely.
“No need to explain. We’re used to your mysterious ways. Just do the family a favor and let us know if you ever have a kid or get married or something?”
His brother snorted, then muttered, “Right. As if I could meet someone, much less have a real relationship, with this job.”
A pang of regret pierced Cal’s soul. As much as Dylan seemed to find his job fulfilling, the notion that his brother might not find someone to spend his life with because of it saddened Cal.
He was, frankly, surprised that none of his siblings had settled down yet, although maybe he shouldn’t be.
Red Grove, North Dakota, was hardly a dating hot spot.
Everyone knew everyone else and their business, and anyone he or his siblings might consider dating, they likely already had.
Which brought his thoughts back around to Jules.
She had eschewed the idea their dinner out was a date, and technically, it hadn’t been.
But sitting across from her at the table had felt comfortable.
Even her reticence to answer his questions hadn’t spoiled the easy mood he’d enjoyed.
Instead, the way she’d danced around his probing questions intrigued and challenged him, as if she was playing hard to get and he was taking the bait, hook, line and sinker.
A loud whistle roused him from his musings, and he found Dylan eyeing him. “Huh?”
“Man, where’d you go just then?” Dylan asked. “’Cause you sure weren’t listening to me.”
“Oh, sorry. Say it again?”
Dylan waved him off, instead fixing a speculative stare on him. “You okay? You had a faraway look in your eyes and were wearing a funny grin.” He arched a dark eyebrow. “Are you drunk?”
Cal’s eye roll said, I’m not even going to answer that.
Hitching his thumb over his shoulder, Dylan started back up the stairs. “Well, I’m gonna just get a few more summer clothes packed up, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“So… Saturday? Come anytime. We’ll get started early and go all day.”
“Saturday. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Except Dylan had missed so much in recent years, and Cal hated it. His family meant the world to him. Cal left Dylan to his task and returned to the kitchen.
Jules’s impassioned explanation of her move to Red Grove replayed in his mind as he fed Pilot his dinner and set up the coffee pot for the next morning.
My sister needed me. I have to protect her, because no one else will!
So Jules had moved to Red Grove because her sister had, but she’d been vague about why her sister chose to live here.
In a manner of speaking.
What the heck did that mean? Jules clearly had trust issues, and he, as law enforcement, was at the top of her list as untrustworthy. He’d have to work on changing that opinion, because Jules Bailey was someone he wanted to know. Intimately.