Karen Whiddon - Colton's Christmas Cop

No matter was else she might be, Layla Colton wasn’t stupid. Far from it. And any woman who looked like her knew there were a hundred other ways to find a man willing to be your bed partner.

Though Hunter hadn’t been a police officer for long, he’d learned years ago to trust his gut instinct. And right now, everything within him said Layla was being set up. Why, he didn’t know.

Yet.

He watched as they marched her off to the holding cell, wondering how she’d do in there with the drunks and the prostitutes. Judging from what he’d seen in the time he’d worked with her, she’d survive.

Still, for whatever reason, he didn’t like the idea of her being arrested.

Instead of trying to figure out why Layla’s arrest affected him so strongly, he read the report again. Objectively, it seemed like a strong case. Rather than he said / she said, Mark Hatton had backed it up with compelling evidence. He had not only the text messages, but numerous emails sent from her company computer. He even had security camera footage from his home, showing Layla standing on his doorstep, ringing the bell. When he hadn’t answered, Layla left a large envelope on the porch, tucked behind a potted plant, and walked away.

If Hunter didn’t know Layla the way one does from working with her for three years, he would have closed the file and walked away. After all, she had money and connections and would most likely settle out of court, her reputation untarnished.

Then the station phones started ringing. Someone had leaked the story.

By the time Layla’s attorney arrived, two news vans were parked in front of the police station. Both had come from Sioux Falls. Whoever had tipped them off had wasted no time. Hunter had a hunch it had been Mark Hatton.

Checking his watch, Hunter swore. Time to go home and let his dog out, plus catch a few hours of shut-eye. But he didn’t want to leave until he saw what happened with Layla. While he thought she was the epitome of everything wrong with the corporate world, she’d always been kind to him. She didn’t deserve this, especially since he felt positive she’d done nothing wrong.

“What’s going on?” he asked Tim Lakely, one of the officers who’d brought her in. Though Lakely wasn’t on the K9 team, Hunter knew him well.

“She’s still in with her attorney,” Lakely replied, his expression disgusted. “And they must have called in Judge Kugen, because he just showed up. And he doesn’t look happy. Of course she gets special treatment since she’s a rich Colton.”

Hunter followed the direction of the other man’s gaze. Judge Roy Kugen sat in one of the uncomfortable metal chairs that dotted the room. Suspect chairs, though occasionally they were used by citizens wishing to file a report. The judge had clearly been roused from bed, at least if his disheveled gray hair was any indication. He also appeared to be wearing plaid pajama pants under his heavy coat, though he’d had enough foresight to put on a pair of boots.

The lawyer appeared, some hotshot corporate attorney from Sioux Falls, and asked the judge if he’d mind coming with him. Roy pushed to his feet and they vanished inside the conference room.

Lakely shook his head. “One more example of how rich people get away with everything. If Layla Colton was just a regular person, she’d be spending the night here and be arraigned in the morning. But no, she got Judge Kugen to come to her so she could go home tonight.”

“I can’t say I blame her,” Hunter said, in the interest of fairness. “You know if you were in the same position, you’d do the same thing.”

Rolling his eyes, Lakely muttered under his breath and stomped away.

A few minutes later, Judge Kugen appeared again. He glanced around the virtually empty squad room until his gaze landed on Hunter. “Here,” the judge said, thrusting a sheaf of papers at him. “I’ve waived bail and we’re letting Ms. Colton go on her own recognizance. These will be filed with the court in the morning. Those are your copies.”

Accepting the papers, Hunter nodded. “I’ll make sure the officers working this case get these.”

“You do that.” Judge Kugen narrowed his eyes. “I sure as hell hope you’ve got an airtight case. People like the Colton family don’t take kindly to being arrested under false accusations.”

Since he privately agreed, Hunter simply nodded.

Once the judge had left, the attorney stuck his head out the door. “Are you Hunter Black?”

“I am.”

“Ms. Colton would like a word with you,” the guy said.

Summoned. Just like she thought he still worked for her. Hunter briefly debated declining, but in the end, he headed for the conference room. Call it curiosity or call it compassion, but he truly wanted to hear what Layla Colton had to say.

When he entered the room, she raised her gaze to his, her long-lashed blue eyes troubled. Her platinum blond hair swung, settling back into place.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” the attorney said, grabbing his briefcase from the table. “Ms. Colton, do you need anything else from me?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said, her normally cool voice sounding a bit shaky. “Thank you, Anthony.”

With a brusque nod, the lawyer left, closing the door behind him.

She tucked a strand of her silky hair behind her ear, clearly waiting for Hunter to speak first. Instead, he studied her. Her tailored suit and silk blouse meant she’d most likely been arrested at work. At this hour of the morning? He’d heard she was a workaholic, but still.

Suffering his perusal in silence, she finally sighed. “Won’t you please sit down?”

Instead, he jammed his hands in his pockets. “What’s going on, Layla? It’s late and I really need to get home.”

At his words, her icy composure crumbled. She covered her face with her hands so he wouldn’t see her weep.

Damn. He seriously went to pieces when a woman cried.

“Hey, now,” he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Is it?” When she raised her face, her perfectly applied mascara had run, sending black streaks down her face. She angrily tried to wipe them away and only succeeded in smearing sooty color all over her face. She looked, he thought, like a bedraggled raccoon. He actually liked this Layla better than the icy tycoon.

Resigned now, he pulled out a chair. “Tell me exactly what’s going on.”

She did, replaying what she’d been told—basically what Lakely had told him earlier. “I just don’t understand how anyone could honestly believe I’d sexually harass someone like Mark Hatton.” She shuddered. “Or anyone, for that matter. You know me. You worked with me. I took care to keep my conduct businesslike, above reproach.”

“Yes, you did.” He leaned forward. “But what about the text messages? The photos?”

Though she blushed, she didn’t look away. “I never sent them. Those two cops who arrested me confiscated my phone or I’d show you. I’m being set up, though I have no idea why.”

“Someone with a grudge against Colton Energy?” he gently pointed out. After all, it wasn’t like the company didn’t have enemies.

Again, her expression went from glum to miserable. “I... I don’t know.”

He wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not. But then, he wasn’t surprised. The entire time he’d worked there, everyone had known Colton Energy was Layla’s life. Whether she turned a blind eye or just didn’t know about her father’s shady business deals, he had no idea. Certainly, few in town even suspected the true nature of Fenwick Colton. After all, they’d elected the man their mayor.

The uncomfortable thought hit him. If she’d lie about this, then who knew what else she’d do? “Layla,” he asked gently. “Did you proposition and then threaten Mark Hatton? I know it can get lonely at the top.”