Colton Christmas Protector (The Coltons of Texas #12)(43)
Reid angled his head toward the toddler who was examining every bauble and shiny light on their tree with rapt fascination. “Thanks, Nick!”
“Ooo, look, Mommy! Pwesent!” He pointed to an ornament shaped like a wrapped package with a large red bow.
Reid snapped his fingers and turned to cross back to the pile of discarded bags. “That reminds me. I got you something.”
“Me? Like a Christmas gift?”
“Uh, no. Like a safety gift.” He pulled two burner phones out of the bag. “I don’t like being out of touch when I go to the ranch or to run errands. I’ll set these up so my number,” he wiggled one phone, “will be on your speed dial.”
She nodded. “Good idea.” She watched him tear into the packages, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Have you been back by the ranch this week?”
“Not in a few days.” He glanced up. “But I’m thinking it’s about time I filled them in on what’s going on. That lead I was onto earlier?”
“Before we started down Candy Cane Lane?” she said, mimicking him.
He nodded. “Exactly. It concerned my father. His disappearance. It seems Hugh made a substantial payment to the ME who pronounced the burned body to be Eldridge, just before the man mysteriously disappeared.”
“You can prove that?”
“I’m close to proving it. I found the bank record of the money transfer. I plan to call—” he flipped his wrist to check his watch “—tomorrow morning when the bank opens and confirm the transfer. But evidence seems to support that Hugh paid the guy to lie about the body’s identity, then saw to it the guy disappeared.”
A shiver rippled through her. “Disappeared as in...killed?”
His lips thinned in a frown of disgust. “At this point, that wouldn’t surprise me.”
*
Nicholas was unsurprisingly keyed up that evening, and even after a warm bath and several stories, fought his bedtime ritual. When Penelope finally got him settled and asleep, she tiptoed back out to the front room to join Reid.
“Success?”
“At last,” she said, keeping her voice quiet as she entered the den.
Reid stood from the crouch in front of the stone fireplace where he had a cozy blaze crackling. He dusted off his hands and gave a lopsided grin of acknowledgment. “I’d have thought after today he’d have been exhausted and would have dropped right off.”
She threaded her fingers through her hair, her own fatigue dragging at her. “In the toddler world, there’s such a thing as overtired, and it actually makes it harder for the little ones to get to sleep.” She sent Reid a grin. “He loves the tree and all the decorations. Thank you.”
He nodded, holding her gaze, then a beat later, he waved a hand toward the couch where he’d uncorked a bottle of red wine. The room lights were turned low, so the Christmas tree glowed and twinkled with particular warmth and holiday beauty. “Come. Your turn to unwind.”
She paused, a nervous flutter tickling her belly. The setup was too intimate. Too ideal. Too...tempting. Memories of the kiss they’d shared earlier in the day roared to life like tossing gasoline on flames. And now he’d created this cozy setup...
Penelope shook off her hesitation.
If she handled it right, she saw no reason not to enjoy a glass of merlot and warm herself by the fire. She chose a spot at the end of the couch, and after toeing off her shoes, she angled her body toward the fireplace and tucked her feet under her.
Reid poured them each a generous serving of the wine and took the other end of the couch. Lifting his glass toward her, he said, “Sláinte!”
“Sláinte?” She gave him a dismissive grin. “You’re not Irish.”
“No. Neither was my father. He was born as Texas redneck as they come, but it didn’t stop him from using that toast at every dinner party he ever hosted. He thought it gave him class.”
She gave a disgruntled, “Hmph. Class isn’t created by saying a few magic words or having the right car and clothes. It’s about how you live your life, how you treat people.”
He leaned back against the cushions and took a slow sip of his wine. “Agreed. That didn’t stop ole Eldridge from trying to impress folks with his cash, though. He was all about the image.”
She sipped her own wine, letting the mellow flavors linger on her tongue. “Past tense?”
Reid blinked. “Hmm?”
“You referred to Eldridge in the past tense. Does that mean you think he’s dead?”
He cocked his head slightly. “You sound like a cop.”
Penelope turned up a palm. “Well, I did marry one. I picked up a few things over the years.” She sipped again and narrowed her gaze on him. “So? Do you think of your father in the past tense now?”
“Not really. But if he is alive, where the hell is he? Why hasn’t he contacted anyone? Why no ransom note?”
“So you don’t believe my father really saw him last month, I take it?”
“Would you? When we have so much evidence showing he arranged for the burned body, paid off the ME to say it was Eldridge when it wasn’t. The whole story, sighting included, was pretty obviously a ruse to get my father’s will read.” Reid angled a surly look toward her. “Did I mention Eldridge’s will conveniently left controlling interest in Colton Inc. to you father? Fowler was quick to contest that, let me tell you.”