Chapter 51
Colette tossed her phone on the passenger seat.
Whatever. There wasn’t time to wait for him to answer his phone.
She would find Marshall somewhere working on the ranch, probably moving his cattle or doing something that kept him out of reach.
All she had to do was get there. Lock herself up in the guest house until he came to her. Speak to him. Try to stop freaking out.
Wiping the tears off her cheeks, she tried desperately to suppress that fear.
The bone-shattering, nausea-inducing feeling that she wasn’t going to make it in time.
What if she was mistaken?
Jarrett King was a pillar of the community, part of the revered King family. The scandal would blow everything to smithereens. How could she maintain a relationship with Marshall and cause irreparable harm to his family’s reputation?
Rowena and Fletcher would be devastated.
Hurting the family meant hurting one of her best friends, too.
She shook her head, eyes on the road as her car ate up the miles to the ranch.
No.
This was the right thing to do. She would not be afraid.
It wasn’t her fault that the person hurting the King family was one of their own.
Could he have also had something to do with Jack’s murder? Jack’s wife was the one to deliver the missing files. The one to reveal the depth of the betrayal that came from the most loyal source. Jack.
Who would want him to hide those files? Someone desperate enough to bribe Jack handsomely to betray the King family.
Colette doubted herself so hard that she was on the verge of turning around and going back to the city. Barricade herself in her childhood home with her parents and let them swaddle her in blankets and feed her pie. Her mother made such delicious peach pie, her mouth watered.
But no. Even peach pie couldn’t save her now. She and Marshall were in this together. The depth of what she felt for him was enough to propel her to drive. Gather her courage. Face the darkness in all its forms.
If that meant the end of something she was desperate to cling to, the risk was worth it. Anything else would be protecting a criminal. In her heart, that was unacceptable, regardless of the cost.
It was starkly beautiful, watching as the sun set over the foothills, the fields a soft verdant hue in the last dregs of daylight. Colette had always been afraid of the dark, and tonight, it encroached upon her. Swallowing up her car and following her. Her eyes kept checking the rear-view mirror.
Was someone following her? No, it was just her imagination. She was alone on the highway.
What if Jarrett King figured out that she was on to him? She shook her head.
No. There was no way. She had only known for a few hours. It would be between her and Marshall for now. It would be up to him to decide what to do with the information and who would be privy to it. What if more people were involved?
Fuck. She had never been so afraid in her life. Her hands squeezed the steering wheel for dear life. There was a risk that she would come to harm if Jarrett was indeed a killer. Or Marshall could throw her out and end their relationship to protect his family.
Her foolish courage was the only thing that drove her now.
As she drove through a more rural landscape, the streetlights were fewer, the pockets of darkness larger, and the headlights of the cars on the opposite side of the road were her only company.
She was almost there. Thankfully, no cops were out tonight, because she would have to one hundred percent cry her way out of a speeding ticket.
A woman on a mission, Colette was going to blow up this case tonight.
Should she call the police? Too soon.
She and Marshall would decide what to do next together, because that was how she wanted to solve this problem. As a team.
As soon as this information was made public, she would be there for Marshall in whatever capacity he wanted. If he decided to have nothing to do with her after she destroyed his family, then she’d be pissed. But she’d respect it.
A sigh of relief erupted from her chest as a familiar driveway appeared. The car went down the dark, gravel road, passing Edith’s small house on the left.
Edith.
This would affect her, too.
The aftermath of this discovery would be far-reaching. Colette chewed her bottom lip, doubt gripping her by the throat and making her want to swallow her words. Keep the secret. Maybe she could warn Jarrett and make him stop stealing funds.
That would only work if he wasn’t Jack’s murderer. All signs pointed to him right now and tipping him off might only put her life in danger. He was the only suspect trying to sabotage the King family. His own family.
The motivation behind his actions was puzzling.
She parked the car in front of the main house, the darkness in the windows a disappointing sight.
Where was Marshall? It was too early for him to be asleep.
Should she wait for him at his place? The porch light was on, and she made her way to the house.
A brown floof with a dramatically wagging tail waited on the other side of the door.
Apparently, Marshall didn’t follow his own rules about locking doors. She would have to needle him about it later, if the time for playful needling ever returned.
Hank. She bent down to pat his head, and he licked her hand. The dog darted outside.
“Shit,” she said, watching as the dog ran outside. Of course, he needed to relieve himself. Marshall could help her find him later, because there was no way in hell she was going to do some nighttime farm exploration. Not while a murderer was on the loose.
Satisfied the house was empty after a thorough exploration, Colette made her way to the guest house.
She could spend the night there while she waited for Marshall to return.
She had packed an overnight bag for this exact reason.
Curl up on the sofa and wait for him to call.
Lord knew she had left him ample texts and missed calls on his screen. He would see them soon.
Wanting to remain unseen, Colette opted to sit in the dark and kept her eyes on her phone for a call. If Jarrett could have lured Jack to work against Marshall, who else could be on his payroll?
Her head shot up as she heard the familiar sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. She had no fucking clue why he wouldn’t have called her back, but Colette breathed a sigh of relief.
Marshall was home.
The familiar sound of Hank barking excitedly at his owner’s return caused a knot of tension to release in her chest. Standing, she watched as the lights in the main house came on. Her brows gathered as she waited for Marshall to notice her calls, her messages. Still, the phone remained dark.
Her eyes caught on the dark silhouette of someone emerging from the main house. Cloaked in darkness, it was hard to make out his features, but she couldn’t imagine who else would know she was here.
He was on his way to her.
Why would he bother to call when she told him to meet her in the guest house? Colette walked up to the door, pulling it open as the phone in her hand began to buzz.
Confused, Colette read the words on the screen.
MARSHALL
The person headed toward her was not on the phone. Her heart picked up its pace in her chest as she began to realize that maybe she wasn’t watching Marshall walk up to the guest house. Her gaze bounced between the phone screen and the person in front of her. She flicked on the front outdoor light.
Shit.
Her heart stopped.
In a flash of movement, she attempted to slam the door closed and answered the phone. She needed to lock him out.
“Marshall,” Colette began as she picked up the call. “Help me. He’s here. Your—” her sentence was cut off by her body being slammed against the wall as the door smacked her in the face. She hadn’t moved fast enough.
“That was close,” Jarrett King, Marshall’s own uncle, said as he pushed his way into the darkened home.
“You’re not spilling any secrets tonight, sweetie.
I’ve got too much to lose.” He reached out to seize her by the neck and pushed her up against the wall.
He grabbed her by the wrist with his other hand and slammed her hand against the wall, forcing her to drop the phone.
It flew onto the living room carpet with a soft thud.
Pain flashed through her hand. She was cornered, Jarrett’s sour breath coming in heaving puffs against her face.
“I’m not the only one who knows,” she lied, her words struggling. “I’ve told everyone.”
“Bullshit. I followed you here because I knew you were running to tell Marshall. Well, guess what? Marshall wouldn’t know what to do with the information if it slapped him in the face. That moron isn’t good for much more than lifting a bale of hay. He doesn’t even deserve to be here.”
“He deserves it more than you,” she spat, struggling beneath his choking grasp.
“Please, it’s time for a new branch of the King family to take power.
I’m clearing a path for my son and making sure Marshall gets out of the way.
His incompetence will no longer be tolerated.
” His mouth curved into a malicious grin as he gave a gravelly chuckle.
“I find I am quite enamored with the seizing of power, by any means necessary.”
The pressure tightened around her neck, and Colette coughed. She clawed at his hands and dug her nails into his face. Her skin flushed as her lungs desperately sought air. With a sharp movement, she connected her knee with his groin. Her father’s wise words when she was a teenager came back to her.
If a man ever tries to grab you, get him in the balls.
Wise words, Daddy.
“Oof,” Jarrett grunted as Colette hit her mark. He doubled over, loosening his grip on her neck.
She debated between calling for help and making a run for it.
It wouldn’t take her long to make it to the bunkhouse.
In a fraction of a second, she shoved him away and ran to get out.
She had to get out. Run. Run. Run. The words beat a tempo in her head.
“Marshall,” she cried out, hoping he could still hear her on the phone somehow. “Help!”
A scream broke from her mouth as she felt a hand grip her hair and pull her back against the wall. His forearm crushed her to his body, pain flashing as her lungs gasped for air.
“No one can save you now. Say goodnight to Marshall,” Jarrett spat, his breath hot in her ear.
Her eyes caught on the metallic glint of a knife coming from his belt.
Colette shrieked as she realized what was happening.
The air squeezed from her lungs with the power of the weapon thrusting into her torso.
A burning sensation radiated from where the knife penetrated her flesh.
Pain sliced through her side, agony exploding in her body through stilted breathing.
Clutching her waist, warm blood spilled over her fingers, unchecked.
He had stabbed her. She took her hand away from the wound and stared at the stain of crimson in disbelief.
Her eyelids grew heavy as she tried to move her legs. Run. Run.
She had to run or die here.
Her legs turned to jelly and collapsed beneath her.
Her vision blurred as she attempted to prop herself up. Maybe she could reach her phone and dial for help.
Get up. Get up. Get up.
With a hearty chuckle, Jarrett picked up her phone off the ground and hung up the call.
“Won’t Marshall be surprised when he finds you here?
Such an unfortunate accident. If he finds you.
” He snickered, then tucked the phone in his pocket.
His booted foot came down between her shoulder blades, knocking Colette back down.
Jarrett came to his knees and brought his face close to hers as she lay on the ground, trembling with the blood loss.
“I just need to do a little tidy up on the scene first. I’ve made quite the mess here.
But not to worry. Isn’t it sad how these old houses sometimes have faulty electrical?
Such a shame.” His maniacal laughter rang throughout the living room.
“Fire is so handy at making evidence disappear,” he quipped.
She tried to turn her head, but it was so heavy. Everything was moving so slowly. Darkness encroached upon her vision. Her eyelids fluttered as she attempted to keep her eyes open.
The sound of his boots against the hardwood floor was her only way of knowing he had left and returned. Her limbs were full of lead, heavy and impossible to lift. A weak sob escaped her mouth cried out for Marshall once more. Her voice was barely a whisper. No one could hear her now.
The sound of splashing liquid and the smell of gas assaulted her senses before she surrendered to the darkness.
For once, Colette welcomed the warm enveloping inky blackness.
It meant the pain was over.