The Horseman's Son (5 page)

Collena looked him straight in the eye when she answered. “He blamed me personally for his arrest because I was the only one who was able to identify him. And I testified against him during his trial.”

Hell.

So, there was a new threat—a serious one. And if Harmon had escaped the night before, he could have been the one to set fire to Collena’s car. But that was a stretch, since Harmon would have first had to know where Collena was and then follow her.

Still, it wasn’t impossible.

But Harmon was a threat Dylan would have to deal with later. Right now, he had to get Curtis off his porch and far away from Adam.

“Look, I have zero patience for you and this visit, especially today,” Dylan told Curtis. “Have your lawyer contact my lawyer, and stay away from anything that’s mine. And right now, Adam is mine.”

“This isn’t over,” Curtis insisted, though he did proceed down the steps. “One way or another, I will get my grandson. There’s not a judge anywhere in the world that will give Collena custody. Nor you, Dylan Greer.”

That did not sound like an idle remark. “Been digging up dirt on me, too?” Dylan calmly asked.

Curtis caught the door handle of his car, but he didn’t get in. “You bet I have.” The man smiled. “That’s some dark cloud you got hanging over you. Two women are dead. Others are psychologically scarred for life. It could happen again. And I’m going to use anything I can to get custody of Adam.”

With that threat still lingering in the freezing air, Curtis got in his car and slammed the door. Dylan and Collena watched as he sped away, kicking up a spray of snow, dirt and ice. The back end of the car fishtailed on the slick surface, but Curtis continued to speed out through the gates.

“Why don’t you come in?” Dylan invited Collena. He took hold of her arm to make her realize this wasn’t an invitation she could turn down. “You have some things to explain.”

Collena had hoped to tell Dylan about her past in her own way and on her own terms. She didn’t want to have the conversation on Thanksgiving before he’d had a chance to consider her offer of marriage.

But it was obvious this couldn’t wait.

He opened the front door, and they stepped back into the warm house. Dylan immediately locked it. Double locks, then he set the security system before he led her in the direction of his office.

They weren’t alone in the house. Ruth, the nanny, and a younger auburn-haired woman peered out at her from what appeared to be the family room. There was no sign of Adam, but since Collena had run a brief background check on the staff, she figured the younger woman was probably Millie, Ruth’s daughter who’d been raised at Dylan’s estate.

There was a lot of disapproval in the women’s expressions.

It matched the disapproval in Dylan’s.

Oh, yes. She had some explaining to do. However, before she could even begin, her cell phone rang. After one glance at the caller-ID screen, Collena knew it was a call she had to take.

“I won’t be long,” she told Dylan, who walked into his office ahead of her.

He gave a look that conveyed she’d better not. He practically ripped off his jacket, shoved it into the closet and dropped down into the chair behind his desk.

Because the two women were still lurking nearby, Collena stepped inside Dylan’s office, as well, and closed the door. It was a matter of picking her poison—she’d rather have Dylan overhear this particular conversation than his staff. Besides, she apparently didn’t have anything else to hide. Curtis had already spilled the unsavory details of her life to Dylan.

“Collena,” the caller greeted. It was Sgt. Katelyn O’Malley from the San Antonio PD.

And Collena was almost certain what this call was about.

“Rodney Harmon escaped from jail last night,” Katelyn confirmed. “We’re doing everything we can to locate him and put him back behind bars.”

So, it was true. Curtis hadn’t been lying after all. And this added a new wrinkle. “Yes. I heard about the escape. From Curtis Reese. He came to Dylan Greer’s ranch a couple of minutes ago.”

She risked looking at Dylan, knowing what she would see. She was right. He was glaring at her. And waiting.

“So, Curtis knows that you found Adam?” Katelyn verified. “What about Dylan—how’d he take the news when you told him who you were?”

“We’re still dealing with that. Can I call you back, Katelyn? I’m in the middle of something here.”

“I’ll bet you are. I’ll check for updates on Harmon, and I’ll also try to find out if Curtis Reese is planning to hang around the town of Greer for a while. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Collena assured her that she would, thanked her old friend and ended the call.

“Talk fast,” Dylan insisted. “It won’t be long before the fire department arrives.”

Yes, judging from the sound of the sirens, they were already by her car. Soon, they’d come to the house to do interviews and a report.

“Everything Curtis Reese said about me is true,” Collena confirmed.

Judging from the way Dylan stared at her, he hadn’t expected that answer.

“My mother was a drug addict, and before she walked out on me, she occasionally turned tricks to pay for her drug habit.” She slipped off her coat and eased it onto the back of the chair. “And, yes, Rodney Harmon will probably try to kill me if the police don’t find him before he finds me.”

“What about the part about it being your fault that Adam was stolen?” Dylan asked.

Collena decided it was a good time to sit. She took the chair across from him. She also took a deep breath and prayed she could explain this without crying. This was painful enough with adding the humiliation of tears.

“When I was pregnant, I was working Special Investigations for SAPD. We got reports about irregularities at the Brighton Birthing Center, but it was out of our jurisdiction. The local sheriff didn’t have the manpower or the experience to handle it so he requested our assistance. Since I was pregnant, I went in undercover. Not at Brighton. But at a nearby home for unwed mothers where I would have daily access to the birthing center. We’d had reports that Brighton officials were pressuring and even coercing these young women into giving up their babies.”

“That still sounds dangerous.” His eyebrows lifted.

“It was. It was also stupid.”

Dylan shook his head. “Then why’d you do it?”

Ah, he’d cut to the chase. “Because my boss asked me to, and I thought I could handle the situation. I thought I could stop what was happening to those young women at Brighton.”

His mouth flattened into a thin line. “You put the job ahead of your pregnancy?”

“Yes,” she admitted. It wasn’t the first time she’d confessed her guilt.

Collena reminded herself of it every minute of every day.

She let Dylan fill in the blanks. Someone at Brighton had gotten suspicious of her. Maybe someone had recognized her as a cop. A former witness or a person involved in a previous case. Or maybe someone at the home or the center had even had her investigated because they believed she was a prime candidate to put her baby up for adoption. It wouldn’t have been that hard to find her real identity if someone was seriously looking. And Rodney Harmon had been the one to try to get her out of the picture. Unfortunately, in doing so, Collena had lost the most precious thing in the world.

Her newborn son.

She and Dylan sat there, staring at each other. She didn’t attempt to read his expression, because she knew what he was thinking.

“You can’t possibly be any more disgusted with me than I am with myself,” she said. “I made a horrible mistake. And I paid for it. I’m still paying for it.”

“And now you want me to pay for it, too?” he snapped.

She didn’t have time to answer. Two sounds happened at once. There was a knock at the door, and the fax machine began to spit out a sheet of paper.

The door opened, and Deputy Jonah Burke stepped in. He was sporting a scowl, and there were snowflakes on his Stetson and jacket.

“It’s Thanksgiving,” the deputy greeted. “And it’s snowing like crazy out there. How many more times am I going to have to come out to the ranch today?”

“As many times as it takes,” Dylan informed him. He stood and went to the fax machine. “Where’s the fire chief?”

“Busy with the investigation. He’s shorthanded because of the holiday, so he sent me over here to let you know what’s going on.”

“And what is going on?” Collena asked when Jonah didn’t continue. “What happened to my car?”

Jonah lifted a shoulder and couldn’t have possibly looked more disinterested. “Somebody burned it.”

Both Collena and Dylan shot him a flat look, but it was Dylan who responded. “Obviously. But since you’re a deputy sheriff and supposedly in charge of keeping the citizens of Greer safe, I thought you might have at least a professional obligation to investigate a crime.”

His disinterest turned to another scowl. “If there’s something to investigate, I’ll do my job, but the fire department didn’t detect accelerant, and their initial impression is that it might have been an electrical problem.”

“The car’s engine was turned off,” Collena informed him. “Hard to have an electrical fire without the engine running.”

Part of her wanted to believe an electrical problem was the cause. But this didn’t feel like an accident. Her cop’s instincts were telling her this was a crime, and apparently Dylan felt the same.

“So you say the engine was off, but you see, I’m suspect of anything you tell me because I already know you’re a trespasser.” Jonah turned that scowl on Dylan. “Of course, maybe she had a good reason to trespass.”

“You got something to say to me?” Dylan challenged, as he gathered up the pages coming from the fax. He took his attention off Jonah and stared down at the papers.

“I made a call when I left here,” Jonah explained. “I found out that Ms. Drake here is investigating illegal adoptions. Since you adopted Adam, it’s not much of a stretch to think she’s investigating you. What’d you do, Dylan? You cut some corners?”

Collena got to her feet and faced the deputy. “Dylan did nothing wrong. If you check the facts, the real culprit is the clinic where Adam was born.”

“I don’t need you to defend me,” Dylan told her.

For some reason, his cold words sliced right through her. But why wouldn’t he say something like that? He despised her, especially after she’d just confessed all to him. She and Dylan weren’t comrades. Not even close. And he had every reason to try to remove her from the picture.

Dylan went to his computer and typed something before he continued. Collena got just a glimpse of it. It was an e-mail requesting a background check on Curtis Reese. “Tell the fire chief that I want a report of his preliminary findings,” Dylan told Jonah. “And close the door on your way out.”

Jonah looked ready to explode over what was obviously another order—a rude one, at that—but he didn’t. However, he did mumble something profane before he exited and slammed the door behind him.

Dylan walked closer, until he stood right behind her. What he didn’t do was speak. When the silence became uncomfortable, Collena whirled around to face him. Best to go ahead and get this latest argument out of the way.

But she didn’t see an argument in his eyes.

She was too close to him.

Something passed between them. A shiver of energy. Something warm.

No, it was
hot.

Much to her disgust, Dylan could make her feel things she shouldn’t feel, and he could accomplish that by merely being close to her.

Collena shook her head to clear it. She refused to let her thoughts and feelings go in this direction. Dylan was merely her son’s adopted father. That was it. There could never be anything between them.

Well, nothing except that stir of heat that wouldn’t go away.

“The P.I. already sent me a preliminary report on you,” Dylan said.

That drew her back to her senses.

Dylan showed her the top sheet of the papers he’d taken from the fax machine. It was indeed a report that included the basics: her name, address, age, height and weight. All bits of info taken from her driver’s license, no doubt.

The next page was a copy of a newspaper article where she’d gotten an award for outstanding service for uncovering the criminal activity at the Brighton Birthing Center. There was no picture because Collena hadn’t attended the ceremony. Nor had she picked up the award. She’d ripped it to bits after her lieutenant had delivered it to her apartment.

“That award should have been for my stupidity,” Collena mumbled.

Dylan didn’t respond to that. He simply flipped over to the next page.

There was a picture this time.

It’d been taken as part of the police report after she’d clawed her way out of those woods near Brighton and made it to the local sheriff’s office. The photo showed the torn, dirty hospital gown that was practically hanging off her body. Her battered face. Her hair matted with her own blood. A busted bottom lip. And the bruises and scrapes on her hands and knees. She looked a half-step away from death, which wasn’t too far from the truth.

She’d come too close to dying in the woods.

The police report indicated how close to death she’d been. It also indicated that she’d recently given birth, and that would hopefully convince Dylan that she wasn’t lying about being Adam’s mother.

Dylan stared at her. “I don’t want to feel sorry for you.”

That improved her posture. Collena snapped her shoulders back. “Good. Because I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, either. I was a cop. I knew the risk before I ever stepped foot in Brighton.”

“You couldn’t have anticipated that kind of risk. And you didn’t deserve that.” He shook his head, and his nostrils flared. “What did Rodney Harmon use to put those bruises on you?”

It took her a moment to answer. No more stiff shoulders. She automatically slumped. “His fists and the gun he took from me when I went into labor. I was trying to fight him off because the doctor had just left the room with Adam.”

His jaw muscles moved. “So, Adam wasn’t there when you were getting the hell beat out of you?”

“No. Thank God. And the fight didn’t last that long. Harmon gave me some kind of heavy narcotic, and after I escaped, I don’t remember anything until I woke up in the woods.” She paused a moment to gather her composure. “My advice? Shred that picture. Forget that you ever saw it. I don’t want it to play a part in your decision as to what we’re going to do about Adam.”

“My decision,” he said. He tossed the papers onto his desk and groaned. “You come here to my home and deliver a bombshell, along with a would-be killer on your trail. And as an added bonus, I’ve had to deal with Adam’s biological grandfather, a man who can challenge us both for custody.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t,” he warned. He stepped farther away from her. “I want to hate you. But I can’t. Because I can see the pain in that picture. Hell, I can see the pain in your eyes right now.”

“That pain’s in your eyes, too.”