Addison Fox - Colton's Surprise Heir

More noise echoed from the upstairs hall and Ethan headed in the direction of the sound, quickly catching his bearings as he ascended to the second-floor landing. A door at the far end of the hall slammed closed and he had no doubt it was now locked as well.

As he moved determinedly toward the door, Ethan mentally cataloged what he knew of the house. It was relatively new and Lizzie was only the second owner, which meant the builder had likely left skeleton keys in the event someone was locked in.

A large quilted giraffe hung from the door and Ethan lifted his hand to the lintel, satisfied when his fingers brushed the thin piece of metal. He had the key in the lock and the door open in moments.

Only to find his rush was in vain.

The empty room’s lone window was already open, its bright pastel-colored curtains blowing in the afternoon breeze.

He crossed the small space in a matter of steps and caught sight of a figure racing across the back of the development. It briefly crossed his mind to follow, but he knew it for a fool’s errand.

“Did you—” Lizzie broke off, her voice heavy and out of breath as she came through the door.

“He’s gone.”

“He?”

“I thought.” Ethan stopped and turned back toward the window. The figure had vanished, but he conjured up the image in his mind. “He was wearing a thick sweatshirt with the hood up, so I guess it could be anyone. They were too far away to get a sense of height.”

“The police will ask what color.”

“It was nondescript navy blue.” Ethan glanced down at his own sweatshirt, tossed on that morning from a stack of similar clothes in the bottom of his drawer. “Just like I’m wearing. Hell, like half the population wears every weekend.”

“It’s still something.”

Lizzie stood framed inside the doorway, long, curly waves of hair framing her face, and he stilled. Since he’d seen her the morning before, his emotions had roller-coastered through the ups and downs of his new reality.

Yet here she was. Standing in the doorway of their child’s room, a warrior goddess prepared to do battle to protect her home. He saw no fear. Instead, all he saw was a ripe, righteous anger, spilling from her in hard, deep breaths.

“Maybe you should sit down?”

“I’m too mad to sit.”

“Once again, I’m forced to ask the obvious. Humor me.”

He reached for the window, but she stopped him. “Leave it. It’s not that cold, and maybe there are fingerprints.”

Although he had no doubt the perp had left nothing behind, Ethan did as she requested. She’d already taken a seat in the rocking chair in the corner, and he felt his knees buckle at the image that rose up to replace her in his mind’s eye.

Lizzie, rocking in that same chair, their child nestled in her arms, suckling at her breast.

The shock of emotion that burrowed beneath his heart raced through him, and Ethan fought to keep any trace of it from showing. How could he feel so much joy at something so unexpected?

At something he’d never wanted?

He’d grappled with that fact from the very first moments with Lizzie the morning before in his kitchen and had yet to find any answer.

Yes, she carried his child. And yes, that had raised a protective instinct he never knew he possessed. But it was something more. Something deeper.

He’d spent his entire adult life avoiding entanglements, so the depth of how far he and Lizzie were now entwined should have been a concern. So how come he wasn’t feeling more restrained? He should feel as if he had a noose notched against his throat, but instead, these weird moments of excitement broke over him, swamping him in a confusing mix of protectiveness and desire.

The sound of sirens broke through his thoughts, and he grasped at the intrusion like a lifeline. He needed to get out of his head and focus on the issue at hand.

Lizzie was in danger.

The anger that had ridden her cheeks had faded, leaving her face pale, her green eyes wide. She was scared—more than she’d likely admit—and it broke his heart that she had to deal with something like this.

“Rest a minute. I’ll go meet them at the door.”

* * *

A lifetime spent around law-enforcement professionals had given Ethan a wary level of respect for them. Anyone who put their life on the line for the safety of others would always have his admiration.

But he sure as hell didn’t trust them.

Cops saw too much. Listened too much. And, at times, drew conclusions where there were none. The two cops currently sitting at Lizzie’s kitchen table fell firmly in the latter category.

After a quick look in the baby’s room and a series of innocuous questions, Officer McNulty dived in. Ethan pegged him for about a quarter century on the force and a know-it-all, and he wasn’t disappointed.

“Miss Conner. How long have these incidents been going on?”

“They started a few months ago at work. I gave all these details to Detective Bell when I filed a complaint a few weeks ago.”

McNulty kept his smile broad, but his implacable tone never wavered. “And we appreciate that. But Officer Warren and I would like to get a sense for ourselves.”

Lizzie walked through the same details she’d provided Ethan with the day before. By the time she got to the rattle incident, she was visibly shaken.

Ethan laid a hand over hers and didn’t miss McNulty’s pointed stare at the protective gesture. He leveled one of his own on the cop and was pleased to see the man look away first.

He might have an appreciation for the law, but he refused to be cowed by it.

McNulty turned things over to his partner, and the broad smile indicated Officer Warren was clearly playing good cop today. He took a softer tack, starting with nice, easy questions about the baby and when it was due. Sweet comments designed to put Lizzie at ease. From the hard flex of her hand beneath his fingers, Ethan knew the officer’s questions had done anything but.

“You say these incidents have been going on about two months now?”

“Yes.”

“That’s also about the time the Alphabet Killer began his rampage.” Warren lobbed that bomb across the table, and Ethan picked it up without a second thought.

“Granite Gulch is clear across Blackthorn County.”

“Yes, Mr. Colton.” Warren’s smile sharpened, a wolf under those sheep’s clothes. “A place your family is well acquainted with.”

“Granite Gulch is my home. My family’s home.”

“It was your father’s home, too.”

The barb hit its mark, and Ethan fought showing any response beyond irritated boredom. “My father’s home is a maximum-security prison, Officer. What’s your point?”

“I’m sure you know.”

“And I’m quite sure I don’t.”

Officer McNulty chose that moment to step in. “Surely you’re well aware of the rumors about your sister, Mr. Colton.”

“The ones that claim my youngest sister has taken up my father’s mantle, killing victims with his same pattern? That rumor, Officer?”

“One and the same.”

“Josie’s innocent!” The words spilled from Lizzie’s lips, her cry echoing around the kitchen and startling them all from the impasse that was quickly brewing.

“Do you know something, Miss Conner? Something that can help the police find whoever is responsible for these murders?”

Lizzie set her jaw, conviction shining from the very depths of her eyes. “Only that it’s not Josie. I know it’s not. She’s not capable of it.”

“People are capable of any number of things, Miss Conner,” Officer McNulty said before standing.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the coffee. Officer Warren and I will be in touch.”