Colton Christmas Protector (The Coltons of Texas #12)(70)

Yelping, the secretary stumbled backward as Barrington plowed through the door.

Fowler struggled to his knees. The burning sensation arcing through his midsection was enough to make his head spin and nausea swirl in his gut.

Was this what it felt like to die? He thought of Tiffany and the life they might not get a chance to build together. But most, he thought of his failure today. He’d handled the situation with Barrington all wrong. He’d flown off the handle, letting his damn impatience and need for vengeance push a dangerous man into a corner. Who did he think he was? He wasn’t a cop like Reid or a trained secret agent like Jake McCord.

He could hear the frantic sobbing voice of Hugh’s secretary on the phone calling an ambulance and asking for police assistance.

Fowler closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He needed to get off the floor. With a groan of agony, he struggled to his knees. He might have blown this encounter, but he could warn Reid about Barrington’s hit men. With a hand slippery from blood, he fumbled his cell phone from the floor where it had fallen in the tussle and tapped the screen, leaving red fingerprints as he dialed.

Reid didn’t answer. Instead, the call went straight to voice mail. “Damn it, Reid!” he groused, then with a labored breath he blurted, “Barrington shot me...and...men have Penelope. Orders to...kill her! Hugh’s...running.”

Then his peripheral vision blurred, and his head felt thick and heavy. He saw a fuzzy image of Hugh’s secretary running toward him...and then the world went black.

*

Pen’s heart seized. She was too late. Nicholas’s eardrum had burst and was seeping the built-up effusion. She gave a whimper of dismay. “Please,” she begged, tears filling her eyes, “his eardrum ruptured. We have to get him to the doctor! He could have hearing loss or a worse infection if a doctor doesn’t—”

“Shut. Up!” Tattoo waved the gun in her face again. “His ear ain’t gonna be a problem once he’s dead!”

Bitter tears pooled in her eyes. “You’re foul. A monster!”

*

“So what are you going to do, now that you know the truth?” Eldridge asked, leveling a defeated stare at Reid.

“I won’t stay quiet, if that’s what you’re asking. Whitney deserves to know you are alive. I won’t be party to your deception. Hell, the whole family has suffered unnecessarily because of this stunt of yours.”

“But you can’t deny it worked to root out the traitor in my life. Barrington will pay for what he’s done!” Eldridge hammered the tabletop with a stiff fist. Then, his expression softening, he added, “And it’s proven to me the strength of the family bonds that I’d doubted.”

“So the ends justify the means to you?” Reid shook his head. “Our pain and stress and worry over the last six months mean nothing to you?”

Eldridge frowned. “I won’t keep apologizing for that.”

“You’ve apologized to me but you still have to ask your wife and the rest of the family for forgiveness.”

“Well, but...all’s well that ends—”

“Don’t!” Reid dug in his pocket for enough money to cover the food and a generous tip and slapped it on the table. “If all you’ve got left for me are trite expressions, then we’re done here. Come home or don’t. I don’t care. But Whitney will know you’re alive and where you’re living. She deserves that. I’ll give you until Christmas Eve to call her or show up at the ranch for yourself. Then I’m telling her what I know.” He slid out of the booth and strode toward the exit.

“Reid!” his father called after him, but he didn’t stop. He’d heard enough. When he reached the sidewalk outside the greasy spoon, he paused long enough to check his messages on his cell phone. He had three. He frowned at the number. Having three messages wasn’t uncommon under ordinary circumstances, but only a couple of people had the number for this burner cell.

A tingle of alarm pinched the nape of his neck as he quickly went through all the prompts to replay his messages. The first was from Pen.

“Reid, it’s me. Nicholas has spiked a high fever and likely has an ear infection.” The panic in her voice heightened his concern. “He needs a doctor, and I couldn’t wait for you to return. I’m sorry, but my baby needs help. I’ve taken my Explorer and am headed to his pediatrician. Call my old cell when you get this message.”

“Damn it!” he groused, not just because Nicholas was sick, but because Pen had taken it upon herself to leave the safety of his lake house to get him medical attention. Then the rest of her message sank in, and he cursed again, louder and more profanely. Call her old cell? That was the number he didn’t recognize and had ignored while he was meeting with Eldridge. A number that Hugh Barrington knew. A number that was almost certainly being watched so Pen’s location could be tracked.

“Reid, wait.” Catching up to Reid, Eldridge shuffled out to the sidewalk.

“Save it, old man. I have an emergency,” he said in a rush even as the next message started. “Penelope’s compromised her location, and Barrington’s men will have a head start in finding her.”

He ran to the Range Rover with the phone pressed to his ear. He didn’t recognize the wheezing voice at first, but the words sent ice to his core. He stumbled to a stop, checked his phone for the list of calls received and spotted Fowler’s number. Fowler—who had agreed to approach Barrington in an attempt to extract a confession from Barrington. Fowler—his hotheaded, self-righteous half brother who had about as much tact as a warthog.