Colton's Christmas Cop. Karen Whiddon
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to wonder at his ethics. I’d begun keeping a detailed accounting of his mistakes so I’d have backup when I fired him.”
“You really were going to let him go?”
“Yes. And I promise you, it had nothing to do with him refusing to go out with me.” Her stomach churned. “I don’t understand why he’s saying that.”
For one breathtaking second, as her gaze locked with Hunter’s, she thought he might kiss her. Her heart raced and she felt dizzy, but in the end, he looked away first.
Suddenly, she realized they’d been sitting in front of her town house for several minutes. “Thanks for the ride,” she said, her voice too bright. “I’ll have someone pick me up and take me into the office tomorrow.” Opening her door, she practically jumped out, sliding a little in the fresh snow.
Watching Layla rush into her town house, Colton tried to analyze what had almost just happened.
He’d almost kissed her. Layla Colton, the woman who epitomized everything he’d despised about the corporate world.
Except she didn’t.
He’d never really talked to her, one on one, until tonight. Her devotion to her job, to her father’s company, had always been legendary, and she clearly didn’t appear to see the irony of working her fingers to the bone for a man who barely acknowledged her existence.
Not his business, he reminded himself. The only situation he needed to concern himself with was the case against her. His gut told him she’d been charged with a crime she hadn’t committed.
Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he put the car in Drive and headed home. Unlike Layla, who lived in trendy North Red Ridge, his small house sat in an older part of town. Which suited him fine.
He loved his small frame house. He had a large, fenced yard and lots of trees. Pulling into his driveway, he hit the remote garage door opener and then parked in the garage.
As he stepped into his kitchen, Hunter immediately crouched down. Goose, his basset hound, launched herself at him as she always did, wiggling and doing her best to lick every inch of his face.
This was his absolute favorite part of the day.
He let Goose outside, standing on the back porch to watch her, a habit he’d continued from when she’d been a tiny puppy and he’d worried an eagle would swoop down and carry her off. Since she hated the cold, she took care of her business quickly and then rushed at him to be let back inside.
He’d stopped by earlier during his dinner break to feed her, so he only gave her a dog biscuit as a reward. “Such a good girl,” he crooned. As she gazed up at him, he could swear she grinned.
No one could tell it by looking at her, but Goose was only one of four dogs in the entire county trained for electronic storage detection.
When Hunter had brought in the young dog, who looked more like a mixed breed than a pure-bred basset hound, everyone had assumed he was joking when he’d announced his intention to train her in the highly specialized field. Then, as he’d begun working with her, their amusement had turned to incredulity. No one had ever seen a dog who could detect electronics. None of the other trainers had even known such a thing was possible. Hunter hadn’t, either, until he’d happened on an article about one of the dogs on the East Coast. He’d made it his mission to learn everything about it, even making a trip out to the training facility so he could learn in person how it was done.
As with any other kind of detection work, electronic storage detection training was done through scent. It turned out that thumb drives, micro-SD cards and external hard drives all contained two different chemical compounds, both of which dogs could be trained to locate.
Goose had proved an apt pupil. Even though Labrador retrievers were considered the best breed for this type of work, Hunter had known his Goose was a natural. As she grew, she looked less and less like a typical basset hound. She had longer legs and a leaner body, and she was slightly taller and more agile. In other words, as far as Hunter was concerned, she was just perfect.
Soon, she’d proved herself to all the other K9 officers in the unit. Goose and her nose had provided the crucial evidence to take down a large child pornography ring out of Sioux Falls. She’d been able to locate hidden computer evidence that might not otherwise have been found.
And she belonged to Hunter, not to the K9 department. She’d been his from the beginning and he’d trained her on his own time, without costing them a cent.
He adored her, and she him.
“Come on, girl,” he told her, heading into the bedroom to change out of his uniform. Goose followed, her toenails clicking on the wood floor. He hummed as he changed, even though exhaustion made him want silence. He hummed because Goose liked it and she’d been alone with the quiet since he’d popped in earlier.
Once he had on his comfortable sweatpants and a flannel shirt, he padded into the kitchen to make a quick snack. He turned on the TV, popped a beer and put together a bologna sandwich. The rest of the world might be sleeping, but this was the end of his workday and it would be several hours before he’d wind down enough to hit the sack.
To his chagrin, he couldn’t stop thinking about Layla Colton. He’d known her for years, distantly. Even so, he couldn’t understand how anyone could legitimately believe she’d done what Mark Hatton accused her of doing. True, as law enforcement officers, they were trained to look only at the evidence, but what evidence they had seemed sketchy. The video might have been doctored. No doubt a competent computer analyst could make that determination. He’d have thought there would have to be more in order for charges to be brought against her.
Clearly, she’d been stunned and shocked by it all. He’d been a cop long enough to know when someone was faking it. Layla’s bewilderment seemed all too real.
At this time of the night, he didn’t much care what he watched, though if he found himself still up at 5:00 a.m. he tried to catch the local morning news. Stifling a yawn, he realized it was doubtful he’d be awake then, so he let the DVR record it just in case they ran a story on Layla.
As often happened, he dozed off in his chair, Goose snuggled up next to him. When he opened his eyes again, the morning news program was in full swing. He started it over and wasn’t surprised to see news footage of the front of the Red Ridge police station. A perky reporter stood in front, bundled up in her parka, and laid out the charges that had been brought against one of the town’s wealthiest and most influential citizens, Layla Colton. Toward the end of the segment, she mentioned that they hoped to be able to interview others close to the case for later airing.
Shaking his head, Hunter clicked the TV off. He stretched, let Goose out once more and stood on the back patio until she came in. Though the cold air usually provided enough of a shock to his system to wake him, his weariness felt bone deep. Stifling another yawn, once Goose ran inside, he followed, extinguishing lights as he went.
When he climbed into his bed, Goose leaped up and curled at his feet. He covered her with her own soft blanket, scratched her behind her ears and then burrowed under his own covers.
The sound of his cell phone ringing woke him. Whether he’d slept hours or merely minutes, he wasn’t sure. He sat up, rubbed his bleary eyes and fumbled around on his nightstand, trying to locate his phone.
“Hello?” he rasped, wondering why he felt like he’d been run over by a truck.
“Sorry to wake you,” Chief Finn Colton said. “But I need to talk to you about Layla Colton’s case. Since news of her arrest was plastered all over the news, I’m going to play it safe and recuse myself from the investigation, since she’s not only family but the mayor’s daughter.”
“I understand.” Hunter struggled to clear his foggy head. Glancing at the nightstand clock, he saw it was nearly nine, which meant he’d been in his bed four hours. “Sorry, I got in late.”
“I understand, and I apologize for waking you. But we’ve got media up here