JOE COLTON’S JOURNAL

Well my birthday celebration sure was explosive! It’s not every day that the guest of honor is the target for murder! Now I’ve hired the best there is—P.I. Austin McGrath—to investigate this atrocity. But I never imagined that Austin’s involvement would result in a budding romance with my fragile foster daughter, Rebecca. She’s had a real traumatic past and is afraid to let anyone get close. Especially a ladies’ man like Austin. But he’s not as cavalier as he appears. I see the pain in his eyes. He’s brooding over something—but what? Maybe between the two of them, these lost souls will find solace in each other’s arms. And though it won’t be easy, stranger things have happened. Speaking of strange, Meredith sure is acting more bizarre with each Pacific sunset. I’m beginning to worry that there’s something wrong with my wife—and that the future of the entire Colton dynasty could be in jeopardy….

About the Author

LINDA TURNER

was thrilled when she was asked to write the second book in THE COLTONS series. “I love these kinds of stories—the more complicated the better. And THE COLTONS series was of special interest because of Patsy and Meredith. I, too, have an identical twin sister, and in the not-too-distant past, we traded places, both at work and at school, and no one knew the difference until we identified ourselves. Of course, we never went so far as to trick boyfriends or husbands, and there wasn’t a good twin and a bad one, but we still had fun.” She says that Patsy was especially interesting to write because she’s so close to the edge—sort of like Cruella DeVille, only worse. Linda loved the scenes with both her and Meredith.

As for her hero and heroine, Austin and Rebecca, what’s not to love? They both had such tragic pasts. She really enjoyed helping them find happiness. She hopes you enjoy it, too.

The Virgin Mistress
Linda Turner

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Meet the Coltons—a California dynasty with a legacy of privilege and power.

Austin McGrath: The passionate detective. Beneath his footloose facade, this bachelor would put his life on the line any day to see justice served. But did he have the courage to turn his fantasy of a wife and family into a reality?

Rebecca Powell: The oldest living virgin. Though the Coltons had provided a safe haven for the then-fourteen-year-old runaway, this schoolteacher is still haunted by her nightmarish childhood. Do the patient P.I.’s caresses offer more than just comfort…? Perhaps the promise of a future together?

Meredith “Pasty” Colton: The scheming impostor. Her nerves worn to a frazzle by the police investigation into Joe’s attempted murder, the deranged sibling knows that after ten years it’s time to find the real “Meredith”….

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

One

Someone had tried to kill him.

A week after the fact, Joe Colton still couldn’t believe it. He’d been surrounded by friends and family, his champagne glass lifted in a toast in honor of his sixtieth birthday, when a bullet had ripped through the party, shattered his glass and grazed his cheek. Even now he could still feel the heat of it, the shock.

For days, he’d been trying to convince himself and the police that this was all just some terrible accident. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would bring a gun to his birthday party, but it must have discharged by accident and he’d just happened to be in the line of fire. It was the only logical explanation. No one had actually meant him any harm.

Thaddeus Law and the two other detectives handling the case, however, weren’t quite so sure of that. A friend didn’t bring a gun to a party—it wasn’t good etiquette. And when that same gun went off and just missed the guest of honor by a hairsbreadth, there could be no misunderstanding. This was no joke. Someone wanted him dead badly enough to try to kill him in front of three hundred witnesses.

The question was…who? Who hated him that much?

Joe wasn’t stupid enough to think he had no enemies. Like every successful man, he had, no doubt, stepped on a few toes over the years, but he’d never deliberately hurt anyone to get ahead. He wasn’t that kind of man. He was fair and hardworking and he’d never taken anything from anyone that didn’t belong to him. So who had taken that shot at him?

The police thought it was someone in his family.

Oh, they hadn’t come straight out and said as much, but their suspicions were pretty obvious. And he knew the statistics. People weren’t usually killed by strangers—it was someone they knew, and often loved and trusted, who did them in.

Maybe that was true in a large percentage of cases, but not in his, dammit! His family was important to him—everyone knew that! He’d left the Senate to devote more time to his children and the foster children he and Meredith had welcomed into their home. He worked closely with his brother and foster brother, not to mention the friends he’d made over the years and brought into Colton Enterprises, and he refused to believe any of them wanted him dead.

Which meant that it had to be a stranger, maybe a crazy, disgruntled constituent who read about the party in the gossip columns and decided to sneak in with the party-goers to kill him. Or a psychopath who felt like Joe deserved to die just because the price of gas was going up and he owned oil wells. There were a lot of nuts walking around free.

He’d told the police that, but no one seemed to be listening. After the shooting, the detectives had gone over the estate with a fine-tooth comb, taking statements from everyone present, but it was obvious from the beginning who the authorities suspected—his family. And it infuriated him. Idiots! They were pressuring people he loved—even Meredith, for God’s sake!—and he wasn’t going to stand around with his hands in his pockets while the real culprit got away with attempted murder. If the police couldn’t track the bastard down, then he knew someone who could.

The decision made, he reached for the phone on his desk, punched in a number, and sighed in relief when the son of his foster brother, Peter, came on the line. “Austin McGrath, private investigator,” his nephew said brusquely. “May I help you?”

“I certainly hope so,” Joe growled. “Someone tried to kill me Saturday night.”

Leaning back in the old leather chair he’d bought at a secondhand store when he’d first opened his own office, Austin sat up straighter with a frown. “I know,” he said, recognizing his foster uncle’s voice immediately. “Dad told me about it. I’ve been meaning to call you, but I got tied up in a case and had to make a quick trip to Vancouver. How’s the investigation going? Dad said half of California was there, so there must have been plenty of witnesses. Have the police made an arrest yet?”

Joe snorted at that. “They’re a bunch of bumbling idiots. It’s been a week since the shooting and they still don’t have a clue what they’re doing. Which is why I’m calling. I need you to come down and find out who tried to kill me.”

Austin wasn’t crazy about going to California. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Joe or sympathize with his situation—he’d just never had much to do with the Colton side of the family. With their money and political clout, they were almost like the Kennedys of the West Coast. They even lived on an estate like the Hyannis Port compound, for God’s sake!

Austin grimaced just at the thought of it. He had little interest in living that kind of high-profile existence and much preferred his quiet lifestyle in Portland. Unfortunately, he couldn’t, in good conscience, refuse to come to Joe’s aid because he didn’t care for all the flash and glitter that went hand in hand with the Coltons. Joe and his father were brothers, though they shared no blood, and they’d always been there for each other. For his father’s sake—and the fact that he couldn’t stand by and let some bastard get away with trying to murder anyone, let alone his uncle—he, too, had to be there for him.

“I need to wrap up a few things here and arrange for a friend to take over the office for me for a couple of weeks,” he replied. “If everything goes all right, I should be able to fly down late tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Relieved, Joe sighed, and it was that, more than anything, that told Austin just how rattled his uncle was. “Great,” Joe said. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this. You’ll stay at the house, of course. I’ll have Meredith prepare the guest room for you—”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Austin said honestly.

He was more than willing to do whatever he could for Joe, but he drew the line at staying at the estate. From what his father had told him, there was no such thing as a quiet evening at home with the Coltons and he didn’t know how Joe stood it. There were always several guests for dinner, not to mention business dinners several times a week and the socializing that never seemed to end. And while he knew he would have to endure some of that in order to conduct his investigation, Austin had no intention of suffering through any more of it than he had to. At the end of a long, hard day, he preferred the peace and quiet of his own company, not polite chitchat with a house full of strangers.

That wasn’t, however, something he could tell Joe without being rude, so he said tactfully, “The investigation needs to be unbiased. It’ll be easier to remain objective if I stay at a hotel.”

Far from being offended, Joe saw right through his excuse and only chuckled. “I should have known you’d want to get a place of your own. You always did like to go your own way.”

Grinning, Austin didn’t deny it. He’d always been something of a rebel, and he made no apologies for it. Unlike the rest of the family, who all seemed to work for Joe in one capacity or another, he’d never had any desire to work for Colton Enterprises. Instead, after a stint in the Navy, he’d joined the Portland police department and worked his way up to detective. A shoot-out with drug dealers eventually ended that, but he still hadn’t turned to Joe for a job. He liked police work and opened his own detective agency, instead. Like Joe, he liked being his own boss.

“Guilty as charged,” he retorted. “I’m just more comfortable that way, especially when I’m working. I like to be able to move around without answering to anyone.”

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me or apologize,” Joe said quickly. “Your dad says you’re damn good at this P.I. stuff, so do whatever you have to do. You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

“Fair enough,” Austin said. “I’ll call you when I get into town.”

Hanging up, he sat back in his chair and frowned down at the quick notes he’d made as Joe told him about the shooting. The details were sketchy—he’d get the rest of the facts when he got to town—but one thing was clear: Someone Joe knew and loved wanted him dead. But who?

The Colton estate near Prosperino, California, was called the Hacienda del Alegria—the House of Joy—and it gave every appearance of being just that. Situated in a beautiful valley, the large sand-colored adobe house faced the mountains in the distance and backed up to the ocean, offering spectacular views from every direction.

As a child, Austin had loved coming there. There was the ranch to explore, as well as the ocean, and then there was the house, itself. Built with two wings that jutted off the main section, it was a home, not just a house, thanks to Meredith. Back then, she’d had no interest in being a society queen, just a wife and mother, and she’d made sure the house was comfortably decorated and filled with children. She’d even done much of the gardening around the main house herself, and in the process, she’d created a lush tropical paradise that everyone had loved.

It had been years since Austin had been there, but the minute he drove down the lane to the house, he could see that it wasn’t the same as he remembered from his childhood. Oh, the house was the same structurally, but the grounds were professionally landscaped now and looked just like any other rich man’s estate.

And so did the house itself. The second the housekeeper, Inez, who had been with the family as long as Austin could remember, opened the door for him, he could see that this wasn’t the home he’d always enjoyed visiting when he was a child. It was too formal. In a single glance, Austin noted the expensive decor that had replaced the once comfortable furnishings that had made the house so welcoming in the past. The inviting home he remembered now appeared to be just a showcase for the Colton wealth. And that was a shame.

When he greeted Inez, however, none of his thoughts were reflected in his smile. “It’s been a long time, Inez. I don’t have to ask if Marco’s been taking care of you. You look wonderful.”

At the mention of her husband, who was the head groundskeeper, her pretty black eyes twinkled merrily. “Marco’s a smart man,” she replied. “He knows I’m the best thing that every happened to him.” Sobering, she confided, “Mr. Joe will be glad you’re here. These last few days haven’t been easy for him.”

“No, I don’t imagine they have. I’ll need to talk to you later about that, okay?”

“Any time, Mr. Austin. I was just about to start supper. You’re family. You know the way, right?”

It had been years, but Austin could have found Joe’s study blindfolded in the dark. “Sure. Thanks.”

Located down the hall from the living room, the study was decorated just as Austin remembered—with a huge oak desk and big, comfortable leather chairs, and books everywhere. Pleased that that much had stayed the same, at least, Austin grinned at the sight of his uncle scowling at his computer screen. It had been years since he’d seen him but he was still one good-looking son of a gun. At sixty, he was strong and athletic in spite of the gray that peppered his dark brown hair.

“Watch it, Unc,” he teased. “Frowning like that’s going to cause wrinkles. And you’ve hit sixty now. You have to be careful about that kind of thing.”

“Austin! Thank God! Just the man I wanted to see.” Grinning broadly, he jumped up from his chair and strode around his desk to envelop him in a bear hug. “I made some notes of the shooting and was just going over them. I keep thinking if I read them enough, I’ll figure out who the hell tried to kill me.”

That sounded good, but Austin knew better than to think it would be that easy. Someone had come damn close to pulling off a murder in full view of an entire party of birthday guests without anyone seeing him—or her. Which meant this wasn’t a crime of passion. It had been plotted and planned down to the smallest detail by someone who didn’t lack for cleverness or daring. Cracking it wasn’t going to be easy.

Nodding at the computer screen and Joe’s notes as he sank into one the chairs in front of his desk, he said, “I’d like to have a copy of that and the guest list. I’ll need to talk to everyone who was here that night.”

“I’ve got it all right here,” his uncle said, handing him the information he’d already printed out for him. “The police needed the same thing, not that they did much with it,” he added in disgust. “They gave the family a hard look and didn’t look any further.”

Not surprised, Austin said, “You can’t really blame them, Joe. Think about it. Somebody tried to kill you at your own birthday party. There were no enemies here at the house that day—at least none that you were aware of when you sent out the invitations. Just friends and family—people who have the most to gain from your death. I bet everyone who’s named in your will was here on Saturday night, weren’t they?”

Not liking that one little bit, Joe growled, “Are you saying you agree with the police? I need to be suspicious of my own family?”

He gave him a look that had, no doubt, made lesser men quake in their shoes, but Austin didn’t so much as blink. Joe had called him down to Prosperino to do a job, and he intended to do it—even when that meant telling him something he didn’t want to hear.

“I won’t know that until I examine the facts and talk to the witnesses,” he said honestly. “Only time will tell. For your sake, I hope the shooter’s not someone in the family, but if that’s who it turns out to be, you’ll have to deal with it. You could end up dead if you don’t.”

His expression grim, Joe had little choice but to agree with him. “Just find out who it is as quickly as possible. This not knowing is eating me alive.”

“I’ll get on it first thing in the morning,” Austin promised. “After I read your accounting of the shooting and get a feel for what happened.”

Satisfied, Joe couldn’t ask for anything more. “Good. Do what you have to do.” Pulling out the top drawer of his desk, he removed a key and slid it across the desk to him. “Here. I had you a key to the house made. I want you to feel free to come and go here as much as you like. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask. If I’m not around, Meredith should be, and I’ll instruct Inez to cooperate with you in whatever way she can.”

Rising to his feet, Austin held out his hand. “Thanks, Joe. That’ll help a lot.”

Anxious to read Joe’s accounting of the shooting, he would have left then, but Meredith bustled in just then, looking flustered and more than a little put out. “Austin! I told Inez to let me know when you arrived, but as usual, she ignored me. I don’t know why we keep her on. She doesn’t follow orders and she’s only a competent cook, at best.”

“Inez is a part of the family,” Joe said with a disapproving frown. “As for her cooking, I’m sure Austin would agree that she makes the best chocolate cake on the planet.”

“Oh, yeah,” Austin agreed with a quick grin, his mouth watering just at the memory of some of the great meals he’d had there as a kid. “And don’t forget her chicken enchiladas. They’re fantastic.”

Far from appeased, Meredith only sniffed. “If you like that sort of thing. But she still doesn’t follow orders worth a damn.”

Studying his aunt, Austin frowned slightly, surprised by her attitude. From what he remembered, Meredith and Inez had never had an employer-servant type of relationship. They’d always worked together to make the house a comfortable and inviting home, so there’d been no such thing as orders between them. When had that changed?

“She said something about starting supper,” he said. “Maybe she just forgot.”

“She always forgets, but at least she does serve the meals on time. I suppose that’s something.” Dismissing the subject with a shrug of her slender shoulders, she turned a bright smile on Austin. “There won’t be any chicken enchiladas for supper, but there is chocolate cake for dessert. Inez just made one yesterday. You are staying to eat with us, aren’t you? It’s just the family—the boys and Rebecca. I had planned to include Senator Hays—he and his wife know everyone who’s anyone in the California social scene—but Joe wanted a quiet evening at home.”

Grimacing as if she couldn’t understand that, she added, “Please stay. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, and I’m just dying to know how you’re going to find out who tried to kill Joe. Where do you even begin? Obviously, you’re smarter than the police—”

“Leave the boy alone, Meredith,” Joe growled. “He just got here, for God’s sake! He hasn’t even had time to read my notes, and when he does start investigating the case, you can be damn sure he’s not going to talk about it to you or anyone else. So don’t pester him. He’ll let me know when he’s narrowed down a suspect.”

For just a second, her brown eyes snapped with fire, and Austin thought she was going to let his uncle have it with a few choice words, which was surprising. All couples had their moments when they irritated each other, but from what Austin remembered, there had always been a deep affection between Joe and Meredith that had been obvious even when they disagreed. But not today. If Austin hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn they thoroughly disliked each other. What the devil was going on here?

Before he could even think about asking, Meredith smiled coolly and confided to Austin, “Don’t pay any attention to him when he growls, Austin. I don’t. Will you stay for dinner?”

Already on the job and intrigued by the tension that crackled between his aunt and uncle, Austin wouldn’t have missed it for the world. “I’d be delighted.”

The food was great, just as Austin had expected, and the best home cooking he’d had in a long time. But it was the company that held his full attention. Joe and Meredith were civil to each other, and to all appearances, they seemed to be like any other couple who’d made up after a disagreement. Austin, however, had learned a long time ago not to be taken in by appearances. Whatever was going on between his aunt and uncle went deep.

And then there were the kids—Emily, Joe Junior, and Teddy. Austin supposed he could hardly call Emily a child anymore. Adopted by Joe and Meredith when she was just a toddler, she was now eighteen and a sweet, pretty, self-possessed young woman. Her brothers, however, weren’t nearly as mature. Nine and seven respectively, Joe Junior and Teddy were both good-looking boys and growing like weeds. And much to their discomfort, they were the apple of their mother’s eye. She watched over their every move, fussing over them until they both squirmed. “Don’t slouch, Joe. Teddy, eat your vegetables. You know you can’t have cake later if you don’t clean your plate.”

“Geez, Mom!”

“I don’t know why we have to eat broccoli. Dad doesn’t.”

“Because Mother knows what’s best for you, and if your father doesn’t want to eat properly so he’ll be healthy, he’s the one who’ll pay the price. Teddy, you know better than to use your salad fork for the entree. Please eat correctly.”

They both shot her rebellious looks when she wasn’t looking, and Austin couldn’t say he blamed them. He’d always hated someone picking at him when he ate when he was a kid. As far as he could remember, Meredith had never done that with the older children. She certainly wasn’t with Emily—she hardly spared her a glance. Why was she so protective of the boys?

And then there was Rebecca Powell, who sat across the table from him. Where did she fit in in the family dynamics? He knew he’d met her before, when she’d first come to the ranch as a foster child after Meredith had come to her aid at the Hopechest Ranch, a shelter for children from troubled homes where she’d donated much of her time. He didn’t remember—if he’d ever known—the circumstances that had brought Rebecca to the shelter, but she’d touched Meredith’s heart so deeply that she and Joe had offered her a home with them, just as they had other lost children over the years. Now in her early thirties, Rebecca was still very much a part of the family.

And far more beautiful than he remembered.

Caught off guard by the direction of his thoughts, Austin stiffened. Oh, no, he told himself. He wasn’t going there. Rebecca was pretty—he’d give her that. Tall and willowy, with the grace and height of a dancer, she was modestly dressed in a skirt and blouse and wore her long brown hair in a French braid that fell halfway down her back. Normally, Austin doubted he would have even noticed her because she was quiet and shy and did little to call attention to herself. But for some reason, that only made her harder to ignore. She didn’t say much, but beneath her thick, dark lashes, she sneaked a peek at him, and one look at those soulful, blue-gray eyes of hers and Austin felt like he’d been kicked in the heart.

Surprised, he frowned and tried to convince himself he’d imagined his reaction to her. Since his wife, Jenny, and their baby had died years ago, he’d been the love-and-leave-’em ladies’ man. He’d wanted nothing to do with commitment, with any kind of feelings that could lead to hurt, and the fast and loose women he’d gone out with hadn’t had a problem with that.

He didn’t have to know anything at all about Rebecca to know that there was nothing fast and loose about her. She had love and marriage written all over her, and that made her the kind of woman he avoided like the plague. The investigation would keep him busy, and once he discovered who wanted Joe dead, he’d go back to Portland, where he didn’t have to worry about a quiet woman with blue-gray eyes who disturbed him far more than she should have.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice that Rebecca was now openly studying him until she said softly, “Joe said you needed to interview everyone at the party. Since you don’t know the city, I can help you with that if you like.”

“That’s a good idea, honey,” Joe said, pleased. “Rebecca’s a teacher at a year-round school,” he told Austin. “She’s usually home by three-thirty every afternoon, so she could help you after that.”

“But she has a heavy schedule at school,” Meredith reminded him as she shot Rebecca a worried frown. “Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart? I thought you were going to do some extra work with the Thompson boy after school.”

“I am. We start Monday, in fact. But that’s only once in a while. The rest of the time, I’m free. And then, there’s the weekends.”

When Meredith’s frown only intensified, Austin stepped in, not wanting to be the cause of a family argument, though why Meredith would care if Rebecca helped him, he didn’t know. “I appreciate the offer,” he said quietly, “but I’m used to working alone. It’s just better that way.”

For a moment, he thought he saw disappointment darken her eyes, but then she lowered her gaze to her plate. “It was just a thought,” she said with a shrug. “If you change your mind, just let me know.”

He wouldn’t, but she didn’t have to know that. There was no use hurting her feelings any more than he already had. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

When he returned to his hotel room after dinner, he was sure he wouldn’t call her. It just wouldn’t be smart. Not when he was drawn to her in a way he hadn’t been to a woman in a long time. He didn’t need that kind of complication in his life.

But over the course of the next few days, he found himself thinking of her more than he should have, and it didn’t help matters that the investigation wasn’t going anywhere. Using the guest list Joe had given him, he systematically began interviewing the guests, starting with the family members and friends who’d been standing near Joe when the shot rang out. But after talking to well over twenty people—and the detectives who were handling the case—he was no further along than when he’d started. None of them claimed to have seen anything. And questioning them about possible suspects hadn’t helped, either. Trying to help, all they’d talked about was old slights and resentments that hadn’t amounted to a hill of beans.

“This is unbelievable,” Austin muttered in disgust as he left the law office of one of Joe’s oldest neighbors, who’d gone on and on about another neighbor who had never forgiven Joe for some perceived transgression or another. “I don’t care about petty grievances. A bullet grazed Joe’s cheek, for God’s sake! He’s got a serious enemy out there.”

The question was, who? Over three hundred people had been at Joe’s party, but so far, no one had admitted seeing anything. And some of them were standing right there next to him! Someone had to be lying, but there was no way for Austin to know who, not at this point. He didn’t know the dynamics of Joe’s family and friends, didn’t know who had old grudges and new, who could lie with a straight face and who would need to. And without that information, his job would only be that much more difficult.

So call Rebecca. She’s like family, but she’s not. She’ll be objective, and she already offered to help you.

Irritated with the needling voice that was quick to whisper the suggestion in his ear, he scowled as he slipped behind the wheel of his rental car and told himself to forget it. He wasn’t calling her. He’d spent all of an hour with her the other night and he could still see that shy, hesitant smile of hers. It was far too memorable for his peace of mind.

Knowing that, he should have never reached for his cell phone. He did it, anyway.

“Rebecca? This is Austin McGrath.”

Her heart suddenly skipping in her breast, Rebecca sank down onto a stool at her kitchen counter. “Austin! H-hi. How are you?”

“Actually, I’m in a bit of a bind,” he admitted. “Are you busy? I was hoping I could drop by your place and run a few things by you.”

“Now?”

“If that’s okay with you. I could use your help.”

“Oh…yes, of course. You have the address, don’t you? I just live a few miles down the road from the estate at the Ocean Bluff Apartments. I’m in 323.”

“I’ll be right there,” he assured her, and hung up.

Rebecca knew it was foolish, but for a moment, she’d thought he was calling to tell her he wanted to see her again. Not that a man like Austin would look twice at her, she admitted wryly. She’d been in the family long enough to hear the stories about him. She knew about his wife and baby’s tragic deaths in childbirth, how he hadn’t let a woman get close to him since. Instead, he’d found comfort in the arms of a bevy of beauties who weren’t anymore interested in a commitment than he was.

That wasn’t who she was, and she supposed Austin only had to look at her to know that. And that, she acknowledged sadly, was for the best. Because the only thing he wanted from a woman was the one thing she couldn’t give him.

Pain squeezed her heart, and for a moment, she couldn’t stop herself from hoping that maybe someday soon, things would be different. But even as she clung to the thought, she knew better than to let herself fall into that trap. She hadn’t been able to let a man touch her since she was a teenager, and that was never going to change.

And that hurt. Why couldn’t she be normal like other women? Why couldn’t she feel comfort in the arms of a man she liked and cared about instead of fear?

But even as she asked, she knew the answer to that. Her childhood hadn’t been an easy one. She’d never known her real father, and her mother was an alcoholic who was always bringing home all sorts of men. Then when she was fourteen, one of those men—Frank—nearly assaulted her. Frightened and feeling like she had no one to turn to for help, she ran away from home. But she’d only jumped from the frying pan into the fire. She’d lived on the streets for six months and was in constant danger. One night while she was staying in a homeless shelter, she was almost raped. That forever traumatized her, and after years of therapy, she still couldn’t allow herself to share physical intimacy with a man.

And that hurt. She couldn’t be normal like other women, and she’d learned to deal with that by focusing all her emotions on children. A caring policewoman had gotten her to the Hopechest Ranch after the near rape, and it was there that she’d met Meredith. After she came to live with her and Joe, Rebecca began to help her with the younger children and found great comfort in that. When she later started college, she naturally gravitated to teaching and helping children with learning disabilities.

But she still shrank away from a man’s touch.

That didn’t mean she hadn’t tried. She had. But regardless of how much she liked a man, she could never get past her own fears from the past. After years of disappointment and dashed expectations, she’d finally accepted the fact that she was never going to be able to have a relationship with a man. So she’d stopped dating. It was just too painful.

But, oh, how Austin tempted her. There was something about him that pulled at her, an attraction she was afraid she couldn’t hide, and that horrified her. He would be there any moment, and she was terribly afraid she was going to make a fool of herself.

“He just wants help with the case,” she muttered to herself as she hurriedly straightened the pillows on the couch and checked the rest of the living room to make sure that it was neat and presentable. “He’s not interested in you as a woman.”

To make sure she remembered that, she tried to picture him with a bevy of gorgeous blondes doing things with him she could never do. It didn’t help. When the doorbell rang, she was suddenly breathless.

Later, she never knew how she faced him with any degree of composure. Her heart was racing, her palms slightly damp, and she felt as giddy as a schoolgirl. But when she opened the door to him, she greeted him with a smile that was calm and serene. If her heart was thundering like a locomotive on a downhill run, no one had to know that but her. “Hi.”

“Thanks for seeing me like this, with no notice,” he said gruffly as he stepped into her living room. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, not at all,” she assured him. Dropping down into her favorite chair in front of the fireplace, she motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. “Now what’s this you wanted to run past me? Have you tracked down a suspect?”

“Not exactly,” he said in disgust. “According to everyone I’ve talked to, Joe doesn’t have any major enemies, but he’s ticked off more than a few people over the years. And he invited them all to his party. I was hoping you could help me eliminate some of the names on the list.”

“I’ll try,” she promised. “What do you want to know?”

“Start with the immediate family and tell me everything you can about each person’s relationship with Joe. Who’s close to him, who’s not, who argues with him or owes him money or doesn’t like his business practices. And don’t worry about this going anywhere beyond this room. Whatever you tell me is privileged information.”

He was strictly business and somber as a judge, and Rebecca felt like a fool for thinking he might have stopped by for any other reason than to talk about the case. Thankful he couldn’t read her mind, she deliberately focused her thoughts on the family. If he could be all business, so could she.

“I guess I should start with Meredith,” she said quietly. “They argue sometimes, but it’s usually over minor things—like having dinner with just the family. She likes to entertain a lot and it drives him nuts.”

Surprised, Austin frowned. “When I was a kid, I got the impression she didn’t care much for the social scene. When did that change?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, trying to remember. “I guess it was after Joe, Jr. and Teddy were born. Once they were in school, she had more time on her hands and really enjoyed having people over. It just seemed to mushroom after that.”

“And their marriage? It’s okay?”

“Oh, I think so,” she replied, surprised that he asked. “It’s not all lovey-dovey like it was when they were younger, but that’s pretty normal, isn’t it, when people have been married as long as they have? And Meredith changed after the accident.”

The entire family knew about the car accident nine years ago when Meredith was driven off the road by a drunk driver when she was taking Emily for a visit with her natural grandmother. Shaken by the near tragedy, Meredith hadn’t been quite the same since.

“She never recovered from that, did she?” Austin asked quietly.

“She’s harsher,” Rebecca said. “More on edge. I guess that’s what happens when you come so close to death.”

Noncommittal, Austin only shrugged. “Then what about the kids? Do all of them get along with him? I’m not just talking about now,” he said quickly, before she could answer. “Were there any fights or disagreements in the past? Any resentments that might have festered over the years into rage?”

Frowning, Rebecca didn’t even have to think about that. “Oh, no. Joe’s always been supportive of the kids. He never missed one of Rand’s football games if he could help it, and he’s crazy about the girls. Drake …” Searching for words to describe Drake, she smiled sadly. “I don’t think Drake ever got over Michael’s death. I never had a brother and can’t imagine what it would be like to lose one, especially a twin. He doesn’t let anyone get close to him, but I don’t think he harbors any resentment against Joe. He just stays to himself.”

Unable to think of anything else, she grimaced. “This isn’t what you wanted to hear, is it? Obviously, Joe’s infuriated someone but I don’t see how it could be anyone in the family. They’re too close-knit for that. It’s got to be someone he works with. Have you talked to Graham or Emmett yet? They’d be able to help you with that more than I would. You have their numbers, don’t you?”

Austin nodded. Joe’s brother, Graham, and his old army buddy, Emmett Fallon, both worked closely with him at Colton Enterprises and would know better than most any enemies Joe had made in the corporate world. “I have appointments with both of them tomorrow.”

Considering that, there was little left to say, and they both knew it. “I guess I wasn’t much help, was I?” she said with a rueful smile. “Sorry.”

She was no sorrier than Austin. Damn, he enjoyed talking to her! And watching her. She was so unpretentious and natural. He liked her smile, her shyness, the sincerity in her eyes. But he’d gotten what he’d come for, and there was no other reason to linger.

Disappointed, he pushed to his feet. “Don’t apologize,” he said gruffly as she, too, stood. “I’ve been out of the family so long that I really don’t know anyone anymore. Your insight helped. Thanks.”

He wisely didn’t make an excuse to see her again, but walking away from her wasn’t nearly as easy as he’d hoped. As he thanked her again and let himself out, he found himself fighting the need to turn back and ask her out to dinner. If she’d given him the slightest encouragement, he would have been in trouble. She didn’t.

Two

He wouldn’t call her again.

Lying in her lonely bed that night, Rebecca stared at the ceiling in the dark and faced the fact that Austin would, in all likelihood, never call her again. She’d told him everything she could about the family and done all that she could to help him. There was little reason for him to contact her again.

She should have been relieved. By his very presence, he stirred feelings in her that had no chance of ever developing into anything but hurt and frustration, and she knew she should have been thankful to see the last of him. Instead, she’d never felt lonelier in her life.

Why, she wondered, couldn’t she be like other women? Why couldn’t she have a husband and children? Why couldn’t she know what it was like to have a man turn to her in the middle of the night and reach for her? Make love to her?

Because you can’t bear to have a man touch you, a voice in her head said flatly. Until you find a way to come to grips with that, you’ll never have anyone.

Slow tears seeped from the corners of her eyes. She’d tried, she thought, swallowing a sob. When she’d first come to live with Joe and Meredith, she’d been shy and afraid and had just wanted to hide away from the world and be left alone. She hadn’t even been able to sit at the table with the family at mealtime and eat. With time and patience and the best therapists, however, she’d started to trust again, to let people back into her life…not only Meredith and Joe, but the children, then her extended foster family and friends. Amazingly, she’d even gotten past the fear of dating. But she still hit a brick wall whenever it came to intimacy.

She’d thought she’d accepted that, but for the first time in a long time, she wanted something she couldn’t have. And it hurt. Turning over, she buried her face in her pillow and gave in to the sobs she could no longer hold back.

When she woke the next morning with a thick head and swollen eyes, she would have liked nothing better than to call in sick. But she knew she’d only brood if she stayed at home, and at work, at least, her students would keep her too busy to think of anything but them. With a groan, she rolled out of bed.

From there, everything seemed to go wrong. She couldn’t find the belt that went with her dress, the new shoes she wore hurt her feet, she misplaced her keys, and to make matters worse, she had to stop on the way to work and fill up her car with gas. By the time she walked through the front door of Coker Elementary, she was late, and Richard Foster, her boss, was waiting for her in the hallway outside the principal’s office.

“You’re late.”

Taken aback by the harshness of his tone—after all, she was only five minutes tardy and school wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes—she said breathlessly, “I know. I’m sorry. Nothing seemed to go right this morning.”

“You’re supposed to set an example for the students,” he retorted, his blue eyes diamond-hard behind the lenses of his glasses. “If you can’t be disciplined enough to be on time, how can you expect them to be?”

Technically, he had a point, and if they’d been running a boot camp, Rebecca might have agreed with him. But it was an elementary school, for heaven’s sakes, and most of the students were only just now beginning to show up for school. He wasn’t usually a clock watcher as long as his teachers were in their classrooms at least fifteen minutes before the first bell rang, and she still had five minutes to spare.

Surprised that he would nitpick over such a minor thing, she frowned. Something had to be wrong—this wasn’t like him. Then, before she could open her mouth and put her foot in it by asking if everything was okay, she remembered that he and Sylvia, his wife, were filing for divorce later that afternoon. And she’d forgotten all about it. No wonder he was in a bear of a mood, she thought sympathetically. She was friends with both of them and hated to see their marriage break up. They were one of those couples who had seemed perfect for each other.

“I’ll be more punctual next time,” she said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

She was trying to be understanding, but she might as well have saved her breath. He only nodded curtly, satisfied. “Good. See that it doesn’t.”

And it was that, more than anything, that hurt. She knew he was going through a rough time, but she hadn’t done anything to him. Dismissed, her cheeks stinging, she hurried to her classroom without a backward glance.

From there, the rest of the day went downhill. She didn’t know if the moon was out of alignment or if her students had been possessed by aliens from outer space, but each class was more disruptive than the last. By the time lunch rolled around, Rebecca was exhausted.

She told herself things couldn’t get much worse. She was wrong. At the beginning of her first class after lunch, she’d hardly turned to write the homework assignment on the blackboard when Tabitha Long let out a bloodcurdling scream that Rebecca was sure could be heard halfway down the hall. “Hughie’s got a gun!”

Startled, her heart in her throat, Rebecca whirled just in time to see the redheaded troublemaker of the class teasingly brandishing something black at Tabitha. “Hughie Bishop, you bring that here right this minute!” she ordered sternly. “Now, Hughie!”

“Awh, Miss Powell, it’s just a toy,” he grumbled, holding it up to show her that it was just a homemade slingshot carved in the shape of a gun. “I was just playing.”

Her frown fierce and disapproving, Rebecca didn’t say a word. She just held out her hand.

His shoulders slumped in dejection, Hughie dragged his feet as he slowly made his way to the front of the classroom. “I wasn’t going to hurt anybody,” he said, pouting as he dropped the slingshot into her hand. “She was making faces at me.”

Rebecca didn’t doubt that Tabitha was guilty of instigating a scene—she had an irritating habit of sticking her tongue out at the other students—but that didn’t excuse Hughie’s behavior. He knew the rules: no weapons could be brought to school for any reason. “You can’t threaten someone just because you don’t like what they’re doing,” she lectured him. “Especially with a weapon. Yes,” she said quickly when he started to object, “this is a weapon and you leave me no choice but to report this to Mr. Foster after class. In the meantime, you and Tabitha will both move to the back of the room and spend the rest of the class writing a letter for your behavior.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Tabitha cried.

Not surprised that she would paint herself totally innocent, Rebecca merely arched a brow at her. “Didn’t you? Think about it.”

Caught in the trap of her disapproving gaze, Tabitha knew better than to argue further. Hanging her head, she collected her books and moved to the back of the room. Hughie did the same, and with a sigh of relief, Rebecca placed the slingshot in the top drawer of her desk and returned her attention to the class and the homework assignment.

School policy required that any weapons brought to school be turned in to the principal’s office, and she fully intended to do that. But there was a fire drill during the next class, and halfway through the last class of the day, one of the students got sick and Rebecca had to rush her to the nurse. By the time she returned to class, she barely had time to remind the students to do their homework before the dismissal bell rang.

Finally, the day was over! Harried and exhausted after too little sleep the previous night, Rebecca completely forgot about the slingshot in the top drawer of her desk. All she wanted to do was go for a nice long ride at the ranch on her favorite horse. Then she wouldn’t have to think about anything. Grabbing her purse and briefcase, she hurried outside to her car.

Taking Rebecca’s suggestion, Austin spent the morning and early afternoon talking to Joe’s brother, Graham, and Emmett Fallon, his friend and old army buddy who had helped Joe set up his first oil well. They were both involved in Colton Enterprises and in a position to know who Joe had had business clashes with over the years. Unfortunately, the list was longer than Austin would have liked, and he couldn’t take much comfort from the fact that Graham and Emmett had included people who had only minor conflicts with Joe. The shooter had tried to commit murder in front of 300 hundred witnesses. As far as Austin was concerned, that made him a loose cannon. Anyone with the slightest grudge against Joe had to be checked out.

Frustrated, trying to imagine who would have picked such a public forum to try to commit murder, Austin headed back to the ranch. He needed to get another look at the scene of the crime, but this time in private.

Armed with the key Joe had given him, he didn’t bother to knock, but quietly let himself in and shut the front door behind him. Silence immediately engulfed him. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the place seemed deserted. Inez was there somewhere, no doubt, but Meredith was probably out shopping or playing the overprotective mom with the boys. If he was lucky, he had the entire house to himself. Pleased, he stepped through the formal, too-perfect living room and headed for the courtyard at the back of the house.

When he’d visited the ranch with his parents when he was a kid, the courtyard had always been everyone’s favorite part of the house. It offered a spectacular view of the Pacific and was a gathering place for the family at the end of the day. It was also the perfect setting for a party. From the patio, the guests could spill out onto the yard and have unlimited space to mingle…and hide in the dark, away from all the bright, decorative lights that had been strung near the house for the party.

Who, he wondered, had stood back from the lights and watched Joe, waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger? Trying to imagine the scene, Austin stepped through the French doors that opened onto the courtyard and didn’t realize it was already occupied until it was too late. Standing with her back to him and unaware of his presence, Meredith was in the process of chewing out Inez.

“What do you mean you didn’t take the dry cleaning to the cleaners?” she said sharply. “I need my red silk dress for the Smythes’ dinner party tomorrow night!”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the housekeeper said. “It just slipped my mind.”

“You’re not getting paid for it to slip your mind! Do you understand? If you can’t do the job you were hired to do, I’m sure I can find someone else who can.”

Austin couldn’t believe Meredith was being so harsh over such a minor case of forgetfulness. He’d always remembered her as a kind, easygoing woman who treated servants like family. When had she become so autocratic?

He didn’t make a sound, but something must have alerted Meredith that she and Inez were no longer alone. Glancing over her shoulder suddenly, she immediately spied him standing in the doorway. “Austin! What a surprise!”

“I let myself in. Joe gave me a key, so I thought I’d check out the patio.”

For a second, he would have sworn that infuriated her. Something flashed in her brown eyes, something that came and went so fast he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined it, but it left him chilled to the bone. Then she gave him a mega-bright smile that was a little too forced to be sincere. “Good. I haven’t slept a wink since that maniac tried to kill Joe. The sooner you catch him, the sooner we can all start sleeping at night.”

Her smile abruptly fading, she glanced coldly at Inez. “Get us some coffee and make sure it’s fresh brewed.”

It wasn’t until she turned back to Austin that she realized she’d made a mistake and nearly given herself away. The real Meredith would have never been so rude to the hired help. Oh, no, not her nicey-nice twin sister. She’d always been perfect, and Patsy had hated her for that.

Anger boiled in Patsy Portman like hot lava just at the thought of her sister, and it only enraged her more that she was going to have to watch herself with Austin, or he would start asking questions she couldn’t answer. If he figured out that she wasn’t really Meredith…

Paling at the thought, she stiffened. No, she was Meredith! She was! If she forgot sometimes, it was just because she couldn’t turn around without running into someone asking questions they had no business asking. First the police, and now Austin. Damn them all, how long did they think she could keep up this act when they kept pressuring her? If someone ran her fingerprints through the police computers, her prison record was going to pop up like a piece of burnt toast.

Feeling like she was coming unraveled, she swallowed a giggle at the thought. No! She had to get control. She needed her pills. But she couldn’t take them in front of Austin. Then he would know. Then everyone would know. She had to get it together. She was Meredith. Sweet, irritatingly pleasant Meredith.

Suppressing a shudder, she forced a tight smile and tried to repair the damage by saying sweetly, “Oh, and Inez? Don’t worry about the dry cleaning. I’ll wear the black lace. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said softly. “I’ll get your coffee.”

When the housekeeper scurried away, Patsy didn’t need to see Austin’s frown to know that she’d done little to redeem herself. For that alone, she wanted to scream at him. For as long as she could remember, she’d never measured up to Meredith. They may have looked just alike, but it was her twin who’d always known just how to act and what to say. Everything had come to her, dammit! Everything! While Meredith had played it up big in Washington parties as a senator’s wife, then later socialized in her fancy house with the rich and beautiful in California, Patsy had been serving time in prison for murder. Then there was that awful time she spent at the St. James Clinic for the mentally ill. It wasn’t fair!

In spite of what the doctors had said, she wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t, dammit! She’d just wanted the charmed existence her sister led. So when she’d seen a chance to get rid of her and take over her life nine years ago, she hadn’t hesitated. And no one had been the wiser.

That wasn’t to say it had been easy. She’d had to keep a tight rein on her temper, and that had been a constant struggle. She hadn’t been able to do it indefinitely. Gradually, she’d showed sides of her true self, always using the excuse that she was tired or stressed or just not feeling like herself. And over the years, everyone had come to accept the changes in Meredith’s personality without being aware of it.

Austin, however, hadn’t been around to witness those changes in Meredith. He hadn’t seen her in years, and if Patsy wasn’t careful, he’d start to wonder why his now sharp-tongued aunt was so different from the simpering sweet one he remembered from his childhood.

He was a huge threat to her, and not just because there was a possibility he might notice the changes in her. The man had the eyes of a wolf. She wouldn’t be able to fool him the way she had Thaddeus Law and the other detectives who’d investigated the shooting. Those yo-yos never even suspected that there had been two attempts against Joe’s life that night. They’d gone over the grounds with a fine-tooth comb and completely missed the fact that she’d put poison in Joe’s champagne right before the birthday toast.

Poison, she thought resentfully, that he’d never gotten a chance to drink. He’d dropped the glass when the shooter took a shot at him.

Thankfully, the poisoned champagne had soaked into the ground when it spilled and there was no evidence to connect her to an attempt against Joe’s life. But Patsy wasn’t stupid enough to think that she was out of the woods. Not now. Not with Austin on the case. She’d heard of the cases he’d solved in Portland, cases that his co-workers had long since given up on. When he’d quit the police department after he’d been shot in a shoot-out with drug lords, his supervisors had tried everything they could to change his mind, even going so far as to promise him outrageous promotions if he’d only stay. A man like that wouldn’t rest until he cracked a case and hunted down all guilty parties.

And that infuriated her. Damn Joe! When she’d found out he’d hired Austin, she’d wanted to poison his drink all over again. He’d given him a key to the house, for God’s sake! He could come and go as he pleased, and just thinking about it made her break out in a cold sweat. If she hadn’t already been on the patio chewing out Inez she never would have known he was there!

So what the hell was she going to do about him?

Keep a close eye on him and distract him as much as possible from his investigation without being obvious, she concluded. It was the only way. But dammit, she couldn’t watch the front door every minute of the day!

Fuming, desperate for her pills, she sank down into one of the patio chairs and gave him a look of concern that could have fooled the Pope himself. “I never thought to ask the police, but do you think it’s safe for us to still use the patio? What if the man who tried to kill Joe is still out there somewhere, watching us?”

Her eyes deliberately wide, she turned to look out at the magnificent view of the ocean and was proud of the little shiver of fear she was able to manufacture. “He could be in a boat, with a high-powered rifle, pretending to be fishing and waiting for a chance to kill us all…”

“What makes you think it’s a man?”

Expecting him to rush to reassure her that she had no need to be afraid, Patsy blinked. “Well, because it is!”

“How do you know that? Did you see the shooter?”

“No, of course not. I didn’t see anything.”

“But you were standing right next to Joe, weren’t you? I believe he pulled you down to the ground when the shot rang out. What happened right before that? Were you looking out at the crowd? Did you notice anyone who looked particularly angry? You must have seen something.”

Furious that he was putting her on the spot, it was all she could do not to cuss him out. Damn him, who did he think he was, questioning her? She was Mrs. Joe Colton, by God, even if she wasn’t the real Meredith, and she didn’t have to take this from him or anyone else!

But even as the hot words sprang to her tongue, she bit them back. No, she thought furiously. She’d be damned if she’d let him push her into losing control and destroying everything. Because once she lost it, she wasn’t sure she would ever get it back again, and that terrified her. She wasn’t going back to the St. James Clinic! she thought fiercely. Or any other lockup for crazies. There was nothing wrong with her. She just had to remain calm and think straight.

It wasn’t easy. There was a tight knot of nerves in her gut that burned like the fires of hell. “It all happened so fast, it’s hard to remember what happened,” she said stiffly. “Before the shooting, I was busy playing hostess and making sure there was plenty of champagne for the toasts. When the shot rang out, I was looking at Joe, just like everyone else. I didn’t see anything.”

That seemed to be the favorite line of everyone he talked to, Austin thought in annoyance, and that was nothing short of amazing. A man had nearly been killed in front of three hundred guests, and no one claimed to have seen anything!

Frowning, he said, “So you don’t know who was standing at the edge of the crowd? You didn’t see anyone sneak off into the shadows? Hell, I’d be happy if you could just tell me if anyone disappeared for a while. But I guess you didn’t notice that, either.”

When she gave him a look that should have dropped him in his tracks, Austin expected her to blast him with a few choice words, but he had to give her credit. Visibly holding on to her temper, she said tightly, “No, I didn’t. I told you I was busy. There’s nothing else I can say.”

If she wasn’t going to be any help to him, Austin wished she would find something else to do and leave him alone so he could work, but that, apparently wasn’t going to happen. Instead of excusing herself, she settled more comfortably in her chair, as if she was prepared to stay awhile, probably as long as he was there. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. This was her house, after all. He couldn’t very well demand that she make herself scarce in her own home.

Resigned, he said, “According to Joe’s written notes of the shooting, the two of you were standing on the stage for the band, but he doesn’t say where that was.”

“It was set up at the end of the patio, on the left side,” she retorted. “It was so crowded, a lot of the guests had spilled from the patio out onto the lawn.”

“And the shot came from out in the yard somewhere?”

She shrugged. “It’s hard to say. The floodlights for the stage were blinding and it was impossible to see anything beyond the edge of the patio.”

Disgusted, Austin swore softly. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

Standing at the edge of the patio, he surveyed the surrounding area with a scowl and silently acknowledged that the shooter had chosen a perfect setting in which to try to commit murder. He’d waited until it was dark, and the house and patio were crawling with people. When it came time for the toast, everyone was looking at Joe, so all the shooter had to do was stand at the back of the crowd, wait for the right moment to pull the trigger, then step back into the darkness, just beyond the reach of the lights. In the chaos that followed the shooting, he could have walked around the house, entered through the front door and merged with the rest of the party-goers and no one would have suspected a thing.

“Whoever did this had to be nuts,” he said half to himself. “Joe’s not the kind to generate anger in people—he makes friends wherever he goes. I can’t believe anyone would hate him enough to try to kill him.”

“It does seem crazy,” Meredith agreed. “But there’s a lot of nuts walking around loose. And Joe is so easy-going that he thinks everyone is like him. But they’re not. Not everyone can let bygones be bygones. Joe always got along with the parents of the foster children we raised, but deep down inside, some of them had to resent the fact that they weren’t raising their own children. Who knows? Maybe one of them was the shooter.”

That was an option Austin hadn’t even considered. At this point, he couldn’t overlook anyone. Turning back to Meredith he pulled the guest list from the notebook he’d brought with him. “I’ll need to know which of the guests are from the foster families.”

Only too happy to direct suspicion away from herself, Patsy obligingly gave him the names.

In spite of that, however, she didn’t fool herself into thinking she’d cleared herself as a suspect. There were any number of family members, not to mention so-called friends, who had probably already told Austin that her marriage to Joe had deteriorated over the years. It was only a matter of time before he asked her why. She’d lie, of course, not that it would do her any good. With those emerald-green eyes of his, he could see through a lie in a split second, damn him. If he started asking her questions she couldn’t answer and really put the pressure on her and made her mad, God only knew what she’d say or do.

Her heart slamming against her ribs, she told herself she couldn’t let that happen. Because if she snapped and gave herself away, she’d lose the boys and she’d get locked up again. And while she might find a way to bear prison again, she couldn’t lose her boys. Not Joe and Teddy. They were hers, dammit. Hers! Joe, Jr. didn’t have a drop of Colton blood in him, and Teddy was a result of a hot quickie with Joe’s brother, Graham, in the guest bathroom during a dinner party. Granted, that had been a mistake—she never would have taken a chance on getting pregnant if she’d known Joe was sterile—but she couldn’t regret that now. They were her babies, and she wouldn’t risk losing them.

Talk! she told herself fiercely. Distract him. Do whatever you have to to keep his focus off you.

Before she could speak, the patio door opened behind them and they both turned in time to see Rebecca step out onto the patio.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rebecca said, startled. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just on my way to the barn.”

“For a ride?” Pleased, Patsy thought things couldn’t have worked out better if she’d planned them herself. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Why don’t you take Austin with you? It’s been years since he was here last, and he’s probably forgotten how beautiful it is.

“That’s okay with you, isn’t it, Austin?” Patsy continued smoothly, turning her attention to him before Rebecca could say a word. “I know you’re working, but everybody needs a break once in a while. It’ll do you good.”

Trapped, there wasn’t much the two of them could do except exchange polite looks. “Company would be nice,” Rebecca said.

“A ride would blow some of the cobwebs out of my head,” Austin added.

Hiding her contempt—how easily manipulated they were—Patsy shooed them toward the barn. “Then go on. Get out of here and enjoy yourselves.”

Left with no choice, Rebecca fell into step with Austin and they headed for the barn. For what seemed like an eternity, neither of them said a word. Rebecca had never felt so awkward in her life. “I’m sorry about that,” she said finally. “I know you didn’t really want to take time away from your work, but Meredith can be pretty insistent sometimes. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Actually,” he said honestly, “the only reason I hesitated was because I didn’t want to intrude on your ride. Don’t feel like you have to do this. I can go back to work if you want to be alone.”

“Oh, no!” How could he think that? “I’d like some company,” she said shyly as they entered the barn. “It was an awful day at school today, and I’d just like to forget everything and have some fun.”

His green eyes dancing, he said dryly, “I think I can manage that.” And before she could guess his intentions, he had his mount saddled and had stepped into the stirrups. “Race you!” he challenged, and was off like a shot, leaving her and her horse flatfooted.

“Hey!” Vaulting into the saddle, Rebecca sent her favorite mare bounding after him, and it didn’t take her long to catch him. Her smile wide and her eyes dancing, she bent low over her mare’s neck and headed for the beach. The race was on.

There was no finish line. With the wind whistling through their hair and the low rolling hills of the ranch flying past them, they rode neck-and-neck, broad smiles lighting their faces. And when they reached the beach and both pulled up by unspoken agreement, they were laughing.

Rebecca couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun, and that should have been enough to set off alarm bells in her head. Getting to know him better was a mistake. It would only deepen her feelings of loneliness when he returned to Portland. She knew that, accepted it, but she couldn’t worry about next week or next month. Not when the day had just turned wonderful. Loving the feel of the sun on her face and the wind in her hair, she wanted to laugh out loud with joy.

“That was great!” she said, grinning at him. “C’mon. I’ll show you my favorite spot on the whole ranch.”

Leading the way, she took him to a secluded rocky cove down on the beach. Years ago, Meredith had taken her to that same spot when she’d first come to the ranch to live. Overwhelmed—not only by the ranch, but by the Colton family and the foster children they’d welcomed into their home so easily—she’d been feeling very lost that day and Meredith had sensed it. So she’d taken her to the cove to show her her secret hideaway.

There’d been no other footprints but theirs that day, and Rebecca had loved it. The pounding of the surf against the shore and the cry of the gulls had given her a serenity she’d found nowhere else on earth, and to this day, whenever she was feeling low, she only had to close her eyes to feel the spray of the Pacific on her face and the damp sand under her feet.

Nothing, however, beat being there in person. Unable to resist the call of the pristine sand that had been washed clean by the waves, she dismounted and looked up with a smile when Austin joined her. “Isn’t it beautiful here? When I first came to live here, Meredith and I used to have picnics on the beach here all the time.”

Her tone was wistful—she could hear it in her voice—and she wasn’t surprised when Austin heard it, too. Frowning, he said, “Don’t you go on picnics now? You two seem so close.”

“We used to be,” she said. “I admired her so much. She was wonderful with the foster children, and I loved helping her with them. But after the accident, she didn’t have time for picnics. Her priorities changed.”

“How?”

She shrugged. “There were little changes at first. She became totally devoted to Joe Junior—then she had Teddy and was the same way with him. Later, she got wrapped up in her social schedule, and she just didn’t have time to do the things we used to do.”

She didn’t have time for me anymore, Rebecca added silently. And she didn’t know why. She just knew Meredith was different, and they weren’t as close as they’d once been. And the only explanation she had for it was the accident.

The thought saddened her, and the mood was somber as they returned to the house, where they found themselves guests at a small dinner party. Feeling underdressed in riding clothes, Rebecca felt her heart sink at the sight of a former congressman and a famous Hollywood producer who had joined the family in the courtyard for before-dinner drinks. Why, she wondered in frustration, did Meredith insist on inviting the entire world to dinner? When she’d first come to the ranch, one of the things she’d loved the most about living there had been the family suppers in the eat-in kitchen. They’d been homey and fun and intimate and given everyone a chance to catch up on each other’s day.

But those times were, unfortunately, long gone, and now it seemed like there were always outsiders around. Meals were much more formal and in the dining room. And Rebecca hated it. Given the chance, she would have used the excuse that she had homework to grade and left. But she’d had so much fun with Austin that she hated to see the evening end. And one look at his resigned expression and she knew he wasn’t any more thrilled than she at the idea of attending a dinner party. The least she could do was stick around and help him through it.

Fortunately, it didn’t turn out to be as bad as Rebecca had anticipated. The conversation shifted back and forth between politics and the movie industry, and the discussions on the future of both were lively and sometimes more than a little intense. But Joe was in his element, his blue eyes sparkling with interest, and for the first time since the shooting, he seemed like his old self. Rebecca could have sat there for hours, just listening to him talk.

Meredith, however, changed the entire mood with just a few carelessly chosen words. The meal was almost over—Inez was serving her fabulous praline cheesecake—when Meredith took advantage of a sudden lull in the conversation to turn her attention on Austin. “So, Austin,” she said brightly, “how is the investigation going now that you’ve had time to check out the guest list? You must have narrowed down some suspects.”

Just that easily, silence fell like a rock. For a moment, Austin didn’t say a word. A muscle clenched in his jaw, and he just looked at her. But everyone at the table was waiting for his answer, and he finally said quietly, “I can’t discuss that at this point. The investigation is ongoing, and I still have a lot of leads to follow up.”

“But what about suspects?” she pressed. “You must have some idea of who the shooter is by now. You’ve been talking to people all week.”

“This kind of case takes time to solve,” he retorted. “You don’t do it overnight.”

“But—”

“That’s enough, Meredith,” Joe growled. Glaring at her from the opposite end of the dining room table, he gave her a hard look that anyone who knew him well was familiar with. Without saying a word, he told her to shut up. Glancing at his guests, he smiled wryly. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to talk about violence at the dinner table. It doesn’t do a lot for the digestive system.”

Far from intimidated by his warning look, Patsy just barely resisted the urge to scream at him. How dare he correct her in front of guests! She could talk about anything she wanted to, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it!

“I would have thought you’d want to know who your enemies are,” she said coldly. “But if you want to live in a fairy tale and pretend everything is hunky-dory, go ahead. I know where you want to be buried.”

Urged on by that voice in her head that always seemed to get her in trouble, Patsy knew she may have gone too far, but she didn’t care. He could be such a jackass sometimes. She didn’t know what Meredith had ever seen in him. If he hadn’t been so damn rich, she, herself, would have walked away from him years ago. But she’d been alone and poor before, and rich was better—even if that meant she did have to put up with Joe Colton.

Not, she silently amended with a secret smile, that she might have to do that for much longer. Somebody else out there wanted him dead. They’d tried to kill him once. They were bound to try to do it again. And next time they just might succeed. Then she’d have all that lovely money to herself, and she’d never have to deal with Joe Colton again.

Three

The nightmare came out of the darkness like a thief in the night, grabbing her before she even thought to note the danger. Coming awake with a startled cry of horror, Louise Smith bolted up in bed, her brown eyes wide and unfocused, her heart slamming against her ribs. In her subconscious, vague, shadowy images rose up before her, terrifying her, and for a moment, she couldn’t even have said where she was. Then she blinked, and the neat feminine decor of her bedroom came into focus and she realized she was safe and sound in her modest little home in Jackson, Mississippi.

It was then that the tears started.

Suddenly cold all the way to the bone in spite of the fact that it was a warm summer night, Louise wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth in her bed. The nightmares had become more frequent over the course of the last few months—and more terrifying. She’d had them for years, ever since she’d woken up one morning at the St. James Clinic with no memory of who she was, but they’d never been so bad before. Every night for the past week, she’d hardly closed her eyes when she went to bed before the nightmares began. And they were always the same—a little girl crying out for her mommy in the dark. And she was the mommy the little girl cried out for.

A sob welled up from deep inside her, and she could no more hold it back than she could change the fact that she was Patsy Portman, a woman with a prison record and a history of mental disability, a woman who’d had a baby girl taken from her soon after her birth that was still, to this day, lost to her. Just thinking about that still made her cringe. What kind of monster was she?

When the hospital staff at the St. James Clinic had told her about her past, she was sure that there had to be some mistake. She wasn’t that kind of person. She couldn’t be! She might not remember who she was, but surely she would know if she’d killed a man! But then her doctor had shown her her prison record, and there was no denying that she was as amoral as she’d been told she was. Horrified, she’d vowed to change her life right then and there.

The first thing she’d done was return to Mississippi and her last known address, where she’d changed her name to Louise Smith so she could start her new life with a clean slate. But putting the past behind her hadn’t been that easy. She’d had no references to get a job, no education that she knew of, no skills. Finally she’d gotten a job at the University of Mississippi. She’d worked hard, and with time, she’d eventually risen through the ranks to become the head of administration services.

She was proud of that and all that she’d accomplished, but there were some things she couldn’t change regardless of how hard she tried. Her past was still lost to her. And then there were the nightmares that haunted her nights. Inexplicably, they’d first started nearly five years ago, and had never gone away. Losing weight and sleep, she’d finally sought out Dr. Martha Wilkes, a therapist who specialized in repressed memory, and for a while, she’d felt like she was making real progress. Then she’d started having migraines, and her nightmares had gotten progressively worse. Even with Martha’s continued help, she still couldn’t say what her dreams were about. She just knew she was scared to death, and she didn’t know why.

The dreams had to be related to her past—she and Martha both agreed on that. But what had she done that was so awful that she couldn’t face it? After all, she’d murdered a man, for heaven’s sake, and had a baby stolen from her arms. What could be more terrible than that? What had Patsy Portman done?

Scared, her heart aching with a hurt she couldn’t put a name to, she huddled under the covers and told herself whatever it was, she couldn’t keep running from it. With Martha’s help, she had to find a way to face and accept whatever was haunting her dreams. Because if she didn’t, it was going to slowly destroy her, and she was determined not to let that happen.

But when she lay back down and closed her eyes, the specter of her nightmare was right there beside her in the dark, towering over her like the devil himself. Her eyes flew open, and in the deep silence of the night, she would have sworn she could hear the thundering of her heart. With the covers pulled tight around her, she stared at the darkness. It was a long time before she fell asleep.

Rebecca woke with a smile on her face the next morning and didn’t have to ask herself who put it there. Austin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself so much with a man. He was just so easy to be around. There’d been no pressure like there was on a date, no expectations of anything romantic. They’d just gone riding like two friends who’d known each other forever, then had dinner with the family and a few guests. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

A kiss on the cheek wouldn’t have hurt, she thought with a smile, but then again, she’d accepted the fact that there wasn’t going to be any romance in her life. If friendship was all she could have with Austin, then she’d take it.

Happier than she’d been in a long time, she pulled on one of her favorite dresses, a white cotton sheath with an embroidered neckline, and stepped into flat white sandals. Feeling very feminine, she French-braided her hair in a single braid that hung down her back, then applied a minimum of makeup and a spritz of perfume. And when she looked in the mirror, she couldn’t stop smiling. She felt pretty this morning and it showed.

The glow of the morning stayed with her all the way to work and well into her first class. There must have been something in the air, because her students were all alert and eager, and everything seemed to flow as smooth as silk. Then there was a knock at her classroom door and she turned to find Mildred Henderson, an aide from the school office, hesitating at the threshold with a note from the principal.

Surprised, Rebecca took the note and arched a brow at the curtly written message instructing her to report to the office immediately. “Mr. Foster wants to see me now?” she asked Mildred. “During the middle of class?”

The elderly, grandmotherly woman nodded somberly. “I don’t know what happened, dear, but he seemed very upset. Run along now. I’ll stay with the class while you’re gone.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you.” Shaken, Rebecca hurried down the hall to the office, worry eating at her stomach. Had the shooter gotten to Joe? Was that what this was about? Was he hurt? Dead?

The blood draining from her face, Rebecca gave a perfunctory knock at the principal’s door and hardly waited from him to respond before she barged inside. “Is something wrong with my family?”

Richard Foster knew all about the shooting at Joe’s birthday party—the story had been all over the newspapers and covered extensively on both the local and national news programs on TV—so he knew what she was really asking. “As far as I know, Joe Colton is fine, Ms. Powell,” he said stiffly. “You’ve been called here on school business.”

It wasn’t until he gave her a pointed look that Rebecca realized they weren’t alone. Standing to the right of Richard’s massive oak desk was a tall blond man who was glaring at her with intense dislike. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting.”

She would have excused herself, but the principal stopped her in her tracks. “This is Mr. Bishop, Rebecca,” he said coldly, introducing her to the other man. “His son, Hughie, is in your fifth period class.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she replied. “I’ve talked to your wife several times at our parent-teacher conferences. It’s nice to meet you.”

She would have held out her hand, but nothing in Mr. Bishop’s hostile demeanor encouraged that kind of courtesy. When both men just glared at her, she looked at Richard Foster hesitantly. “I presume this is about Hughie. Is something wrong?”

“You tell us,” the principal retorted. “Did you take a slingshot away from Hughie yesterday?”

Until that moment, Rebecca had completely forgotten about it. “As a matter of fact, I did. It was a carved wooden gun, and he was threatening Tabitha Long with it. I took it away and put it in my desk. I know I should have turned it in to the office, Mr. Foster, but yesterday was so hectic, I forgot.”

Not the least impressed with her explanation, Hugh Bishop snapped, “Go get it. I want it back.”

Confiscated weapons were never returned to the students or their families. That was standard school policy, and Rebecca expected Richard to tell Mr. Bishop that. Instead, he just looked at her with steely blue eyes and said, “You heard the man. Go get it.”

Rebecca couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d slapped her. “But that’s against school policy—”

“When I want your advice on how to run this school, Ms. Powell, I’ll ask for it. In the meantime, I suggest you do as you’re told.”

If you value your job. The words weren’t spoken, but Rebecca heard them, nonetheless, and had never felt more like a chastised schoolgirl. And it hurt. She was a good teacher and she’d done the right thing by taking that gun away from Hughie. And Richard knew that. Aside from the fact that it was school policy, it was her duty as a teacher to take away anything from a student that could be used to hurt or intimidate someone. So why hadn’t he backed her up? Didn’t he realize that he could get in trouble with the school board for not carrying out his duty as a principal? What was going on here?

She wanted to ask, but he had that look on his face, the one that he always wore whenever he was thinking of his impending divorce, the one that she and the other teachers had learned to avoid like the plague. There was no point in arguing further.

“I’ll be right back,” she said stiffly, and turned and marched out of the office without saying another word.

Later, she didn’t know how she did it. She’d never been so humiliated in all her life, but she walked down the hall to her classroom with her head held high and even managed a smile for Mildred Henderson when she quietly stepped into the classroom to find her reading to the class. “If you could stay just a little longer, Mrs. Henderson, I’d appreciate it. The meeting with Mr. Foster isn’t quite over.”

“Of course,” the older woman replied easily. “Take as long as you need.”

Rebecca would have loved to make both men wait the rest of the afternoon, but she’d never blatantly defied an authority figure. And in spite of the fact that she considered Richard a friend, he was, first and foremost, her boss. Insubordination of any kind wasn’t tolerated, so she was left with no choice but to hurry back to the office once she retrieved the slingshot from her drawer.

Even then, she hadn’t moved fast enough for Hugh Bishop. The second she stepped into the office, he growled, “You took your time getting back here, didn’t you? Are you always this slow? No wonder Junior’s having trouble in school.”

Outraged, Rebecca almost told him off, but she bit the words back just in time. No, she thought, dragging in a calming breath. She wouldn’t stoop to Hugh Bishop’s behavior. And surely this time Richard would defend her. After all, as the principal, any slander of the teachers was a direct reflection on him and the school.

She looked at him expectantly, only to drop her jaw when he said, “I’m sorry for this unfortunate incident, Hugh. I promise you it won’t happen again.”

Far from satisfied, the obnoxious man said, “See that it doesn’t.” And with one last look of dislike for Rebecca, he stormed out, making sure he slammed the door behind him.

He’d actually apologized for her behavior! Furious, Rebecca hardly noticed the silence left by Hugh Bishop’s leavetaking. How dare he! she fumed. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and she damn sure intended to tell him that.

But before she could even open her mouth, he turned to her with the same degree of hostility Mr. Bishop had and coldly lifted a dark brow at her. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Taken aback, she couldn’t believe he was serious. At the very least, he owed her an explanation! “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” he retorted. “Why did you blatantly ignore the school weapons policy?”

“Me?” she gasped. “I didn’t ignore anything. I took the weapon away from Hughie, just as I was supposed to. You’re the one who gave it back to that awful man just so he can bring it right back to school!”

“Because you didn’t do what you were supposed to do!” Enraged, he glared at her with intense dislike. “You did this! You didn’t do your job. You didn’t turn that weapon in, so I was left with no choice but to take Mr. Bishop’s side.”

“But that makes no sense—”

That was the wrong thing to say. If he’d been angry before, he was absolutely livid now. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Ms. Powell. Do you understand that? I’m in charge around here, and I can do whatever I damn well please. You, on the other hand, are on very thin ice. One more episode like this and you may find yourself looking for another job. Do I make myself clear?”

She wanted to tell him no. She didn’t understand why she was the bad guy for taking the weapon away when he’d been the one who’d given it back! But she knew he was looking for someone to blame, and she was obviously it.

“Perfectly,” she said coolly. “This is an argument I can’t win. If we’re finished here, I need to get back to my classroom.”

His curt nod was her dismissal, and with a sigh of relief, Rebecca hurried out of the office and down the hall, her cheeks stinging with embarrassment and her eyes hot with tears she refused to shed. She would not take this personally, she told herself fiercely. He was just going through a rough time. He needed her understanding now, not her anger. With time, he’d be back to his old, likable self. She just had to be patient…and pray that it would be soon.

With so many of Joe’s friends and family pointing the finger at everyone else, Austin decided the best way to discover the truth about what really happened the night of the party was to talk to the non-guests that had been hired for the evening—caterers, decorators, entertainers, security personnel. As disinterested third parties, they inevitably blended into the woodwork at such a large affair, and in the process, usually saw and heard much more than the guests realized.

Armed with a list of everyone who had access to the estate that night, Austin paid a visit to John Roberts, the caterer, and wasn’t surprised when no one wanted to talk to him. In a business that catered in many cases to the rich and famous, a caterer’s reputation often depended not only on the food he served, but his discretion. If word got out that he was talking about his clients and their private lives to a private investigator, he could kiss his business goodbye.

And no one, apparently, knew that better than John Roberts. When Austin told him what he wanted, John just looked at him. “The police have already questioned me and my staff. We didn’t see anything.”

“I understand,” Austin said easily. “But I’d still like to talk to everyone that worked the party that night. Someone may have seen more than they realized.”

“They don’t get paid to watch the guests, only the food,” he retorted. “You’re wasting your time.”

Starting to get irritated, Austin shot him a narrow-eyed look that warned him he was pushing his luck. “No, you’re wasting my time. Have you got something to hide? Is that why you don’t want me to talk to your employees? Are you afraid the word will get out that you were somehow involved?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then there’s no reason why your people can’t talk to me, is there?”

Neatly cornered, there was nothing John could do but look down his thin nose at him and seethe. “You’re welcome to talk to anyone you like, but my staff is small. Most of the wait staff hired for the party was contract labor.”

“But they’re people you’ve worked with before?”

“Most of them, yes. For a party the size of the Colton affair, you take what you can get.”

“You have their names and addresses?”

“Naturally.”

Turning to the file cabinet behind his desk, he dug out a list and stiffly handed it over. “Everyone was questioned directly after the shooting.”

That was standard procedure, but Austin doubted anyone at the police department had yet done any follow-up interviews after the shock of the shooting had worn off. That was when people remembered vital tidbits of information that might not seem important to them.

Pocketing the list, he said, “That’s okay. I’d still like to talk to them. What do you remember about the party? Did you notice anyone acting suspicious? You must have slipped in and out of the crowd. I’m sure you saw things the family didn’t.”

If he did, he wasn’t admitting it. “It was my duty to make sure that the food stayed hot and never ran out and the champagne flowed freely. When I wasn’t in the kitchen, I was making sure my people were doing their job—and trying to satisfy Mrs. Colton. I didn’t have time to notice anything else.”

Usually a sharp judge of people, Austin wasn’t surprised by his response. The man was so caught up in his work that he probably wouldn’t have seen the shooter if he’d tripped over him…unless he’d had an empty champagne glass in his hand. “Then I guess we have nothing else to talk about,” he replied. “Thanks for your help.”

From the caterers, he checked out the list of waiters and servers and cleanup crew and soon found himself driving all over Prosperino. He ran out nearly a full tank of gas, but had little to show for it. The catering staff that did intermingle with the crowd only knew the more famous guests. Most of the family were strangers to them and they could offer little information.

Still, Austin had no intention of giving up so easily. There was still security to check, as well as the band. Someone must have seen something!

“The band was about to break into ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,’ weren’t you?” he asked Ramon, the band’s drummer, when he finally tracked him down at Tucker’s Grocery, where he worked as a stock boy during the day. “You were just waiting for everyone to finish the toasts. Right?”

“No!” The long-haired drummer frowned. “Mrs. Colton had told us she’d warn us when the toasts were going to start, but she didn’t, and we’d taken a break. Suddenly, the toasts were starting, and we were all over the place. I’d just rushed up on stage when Mr. Colton lifted his glass for the toast. The next thing I knew, a shot rang out and everybody was screaming.”

“Did you see where the shot came from?”

“Are you kidding? I was looking for my drumsticks!”

“And your buddies? Where were they?”

“Grabbing something to eat and drink,” he answered promptly. “Or in the bathroom. I went for a smoke. I don’t know what the others did.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to check with them.” Pulling out the list Joe had given him his first day in town, Austin quickly checked to make sure he had the rest of the band members’ names and addresses, then offered his hand. “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t do anything.”

He had to get back to work or Austin would have told him that every person he eliminated from the list of possible suspects led him that much closer to the shooter. It was part of the job, and, unfortunately, the most tedious part. Still, it had to be done. Resigned, he checked the list again and headed for the opposite side of town.

The address was classy. There was no other way to describe the gated condominium on the beach where Chester Phillips lived. Conservative and sophisticated, in an area of town that appealed to old money, it wasn’t the kind of place Austin had expected the bass player of a rock band to be living.

“I’m looking for Chester Phillips,” he told the security guard at the gate. “I need to talk to him about a party he worked last weekend.”

“He’s not home.”

“I could wait.”

When the guard just looked at him, Austin sighed. He should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Never mind. I’ll come back later.”

Disgusted, he went looking for Luke and Greg, the two other band members, but he didn’t get very far there, either. It took most of the afternoon to track down Luke on the golf course at a nearby country club. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much to offer about the night of the shooting. He was inside at the buffet line when the shot rang out. By the time he made his way outside, all he saw was most of the crowd on the ground with their heads covered.