Addison Fox - Cold Case Colton

Something Hawk understood with every fiber of his being.

“I believe you. You strike me as an honest man. The way you talked about that family. The way you look at my daughter.” Mac waved a finger. “And make no mistake about it, that woman is my daughter as sure as if she were born to me.”

“I know it, sir. I can see that.”

“Then answer me something. Why is this case so important to you? There’s a fire in you. I saw it outside when you recounted the story of this young woman’s life. This poor Annalise.”

“I want to make it right.”

“Why? Lots better ways to make a living than hunting down trails that have gone cold. In fact, I’d imagine it’s the worst sort of job for an honest PI trying to make a living.”

“You’re right. And I do take the hot ones that close faster, too.”

“So tell me why. I’ll grant you, the Krupid family deserves answers. I even understand they deserve those answers, whether or not it hurts my family in the process. But you owe me the truth.”

Whatever he was—whatever had brought him to this moment—depended on his honesty. And his willingness to open up. Claudia Colton deserved that.

And so did the people who loved her.

Hawk knew it as surely as he knew he’d been living like a ghost for the past four years. Knew it equally as surely as the fact that he’d felt some sense—some stirring, really—the moment he’d seen Claudia’s photo on that damnable blog post.

“I lost my wife four years ago. She was kidnapped and murdered, then abandoned in a field in a big suburb outside of Houston.”

The words were scratchy—raw—and rarely spoken, but it didn’t make them any less true.

“No one should have to live with that or lose their loved one that way. There’s a sadness in me for your wife, Mr. Huntley. For you, too. A true, deep sadness.”

“Thank you.” He believed Mac, saw the sincerity in the quiet, grooved lines of the man’s face. “I’ve never found who did it. I was on the force at the time and the police worked long and hard, but every lead they pursued went cold. Every damned lead I pursued did the same.”

Hawk drew in a breath, willing himself through the rest of the telling. “It took me two long years to accept that. To pull myself out of an empty life and decide I could die in the bottom of it or I could give Jennifer closure in another way.”

“So you work others’ cases.”

“Others that have a chance of being solved, yes.” Hawk ran a finger over the handle of his mug. “I’m sorry if this news hurts your family. I’m sorry for that, more than I can say. But it’s why I’m here.”

“Livia Colton ruined a lot of lives. She tried to ruin mine and it ripped her a new one when she realized she’d only made mine infinitely better.”

Hawk laughed at the wry smile and the epitaph Mac added to punctuate his point.

“She’s the reason I have my son and the amazing women and men who I think of as my children. Livia gave me that and nothing can take that away. Nothing can change that, including any lies she told along the way. You do what you need to do. You find the truth for this family and you find the truth for my Claudia. She’s tough. She’ll stick.”

“Thank you.” Hawk thought of the woman he’d observed all morning and knew Mac’s words for truth.

“I only have one question for you, then.”

“What’s that?”

“Are you tough? Will you stick?”

“I’ll do both, sir. And I appreciate the opportunity to prove it.”

Chapter 5

The bedroom walls had long since been painted over, from cotton candy pink to a soft gray that matched her mood. Claudia had shared this room with her sister Jade, and she could still see the two of them, perched atop their matching bunk beds Mac had built with his own two hands. He’d crafted desks into the bottom portion instead of beds and she and Jade had giggled from their chairs over homework, gossip about boys and all the things young girls worried over.

The beds had been moved over to Knox’s house and his son, Cody, slept in one of them. The sturdy oak had done her and Jade well and it was nice to know another generation of Coltons slept on Mac’s solid and loving work.

Instead of the bunk beds, she sat on the end of a large double, moved in after this became a guest bedroom. She still used it from time to time, as did the rest of her family.

But boy, there were days she missed those bunks.

Life had been confusing back then, in the days after her mother had been arrested, but it had been safe, too. And just like Mac’s soothing presence during her swim lessons, as long as she stayed underneath his roof, she knew no harm would come to her.

The knock came first, quickly followed by that voice. Rich and deep, it sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

Hawk.

“May I have a minute?”

She waved him in, moving over to give him room on the end of the bed, but he chose to remain standing.

“I’m sorry for what’s happened today.” He held up a hand. “That’s not true. I’m sorry for what happened so many years ago that has made today possible.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe not, but I’m the face of it. And I’m the one who owns the responsibility for connecting the dots.”

“Maybe.” She considered the large man who stood in the doorway of her room. The weight of responsibility hovered around him and she saw the genuine grief that he was responsible for finding answers. Odd how that thin layer of regret helped her deal with her new reality.

It was also comforting to know he’d not shown up out of a sense of vengeance or self-righteousness or even some sort of professional mission. So many others—especially in the early days after her mother had first been accused—had marched through town and on into her mother’s home, La Bonne Vie, with a barely veiled sense of glee.

Hawk Huntley had simply shown up to do what was right. To make another family whole.

“Carrying the news doesn’t make it any less true that my mother created those dots.” Claudia laughed, the sound wholly unexpected and sort of creaky as it bubbled to her lips. “If I can even call her my mother anymore.”

“Nothing can change that. Nothing can change your family, Claudia.” Hawk did move forward then, taking the seat next to her on the edge of the bed. The mattress tipped with his weight and she was struck immediately by the warmth of his body and the solid reassurance of having him next to her.

“And even if you were adopted, we don’t know Livia’s reasons for it. Annalise is dead, so you weren’t simply taken from her if she is your mother. Her body was identified when it was delivered to the county morgue in Houston.”

“What was her cause of death?”

“She was never autopsied. And her body was cremated before the Krupids could claim her. But the coroner had photos and the proper proof. She did die.”

“So who rushed through the paperwork? Why wouldn’t the next of kin have been given her body?”

“One more mystery that kept the family certain something else had happened to their daughter.”

“And likely at the hands of one more public official my moth—” she stopped, amended “—Livia paid off.”

Claudia did some quick math. She was twenty-six and Livia wouldn’t have been much older than her at the time of Annalise’s death. Her mother’s crimes had begun at a shockingly tender age, along with her early marriages, the births of her children and her endless string of affairs.

Had love been a part of any of it? She wanted to think better of her mother, but Claudia doubted it. Livia’s string of romances had been about manipulation and greed and money.

The capture of her uncle Matthew had made huge news in Texas after he’d been caught as one of the state’s most notorious serial killers. And even with all he’d done, he’d counted his sister among one of the few people he’d never cross.