K-9 officer Micah Shaw never thought tracking a serial killer would lead him to discover the woman he once loved near death. Vulnerable and under siege, Bea Colton needs him now more than ever. Their relationship didn’t succeed years ago, but their second-chance attraction is an all-too-deadly distraction: one that could kill!

LARA LACOMBE earned a PhD in microbiology and immunology and worked in several labs across the country before moving into the classroom. Her day job as a college science professor gives her time to pursue her other love—writing fast-paced romantic suspense with smart, nerdy heroines and dangerously attractive heroes. She loves to hear from readers! Find her on the web or contact her at laralacombewriter@gmail.com.

Also by Lara Lacombe

Colton K-9 BodyguardEnticed by the OperativeDr. Do-or-DieHer Lieutenant ProtectorPregnant by the Colton CowboyColton Baby HomecomingDeadly ContactFatal FalloutLethal LiesKiller Exposure

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Colton K-9 Bodyguard

Lara Lacombe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07870-2

COLTON K-9 BODYGUARD

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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This one is for Mae.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Extract

Chapter 1

“Are you sure you really want to do this?”

Beatrix Colton’s heart sank as Jennifer Sheridan nodded.

“I have to,” the young woman said sadly. She gave the poufy white dress one last, longing look before pushing it across the counter. Bea grabbed the hanger and hung the dress on the hook next to the register, smoothing out the full skirt with the palm of her hand.

Now came the awkward part. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you a refund, since you’ve already had your final fitting,” she said delicately.

“I know.” Jennifer blinked back tears and shook her head. “I hate this,” she said, sniffing. “But Mark and I have talked about it, and I just can’t risk his safety.”

“I understand,” Bea assured her. And, truthfully, she did. “The Groom Killer has us all scared. I don’t blame you for wanting to be careful, especially right now.”

“Mark said I’m overreacting,” Jennifer confessed. She looked down, then met Bea’s eyes. “But I think he’s secretly relieved we’re canceling the wedding. One less thing to worry about, you know?”

Bea nodded sympathetically.

“We’re being very public about the cancellation. That’s why I’m here—everyone has to see me return this dress.”

“Of course,” Bea murmured.

“I had hoped the police would have captured the killer by now,” Jennifer continued. She eyed Bea speculatively, and Bea realized the woman was waiting for her to chime in with a juicy detail about the investigation. Everybody in town thought Bea’s cousin, Demi Colton, was the Groom Killer who’d murdered two men the night before their weddings—one in January, and one last month in February. Bea herself wasn’t so sure; she didn’t know Demi all that well, but she hated to jump to conclusions about something so serious.

“I’m sure they’ll find whoever is doing this soon,” Bea replied, trying to sound noncommittal. She wasn’t in the mood to discuss her cousin or any other topic related to the Groom Killer. She’d already lost a lot of business, thanks to panicked couples canceling their nuptials in the hopes of staying off the killer’s radar. If the police didn’t find the culprit soon, Bea’s Bridal Salon would have to close.

It was a possibility that made her sick to her stomach.

Forcing a smile, Bea changed the subject. After a moment, Jennifer realized Bea wasn’t going to reveal any family secrets, and she gathered up her purse to leave.

“I really am sorry about this,” she said, pausing at the door.

Just go, Bea thought, practically willing the woman to leave.

“I understand,” Bea repeated. “I hope you’ll come back once your wedding is back on.”

“Oh, I will,” Jennifer promised.

Bea nodded, but the woman’s reassurance didn’t make her feel any better. The possibility of future business was nice, but it wouldn’t help her pay the bills now.

And that was the problem.

Since Bea’s Bridal Salon didn’t exactly offer a diverse array of services, there wasn’t much she could do to draw in clients while the shadow of the Groom Killer lingered over them all.

Her father, Fenwick Colton, had offered to float her some funds until things returned to normal. But Bea refused to use his money. This was her shop, and she wasn’t going to take charity from anyone.

Especially not dear old Dad.

Bea had inherited the bridal shop after her grandmother’s death five years ago. She’d seen it as both a gift and an opportunity; Bea had spent countless hours in the shop as a child, falling under the spell of the beautiful dresses and the happy brides. She’d spent many an afternoon walking among the gowns, daydreaming about her own wedding. There was something magical about a wedding dress, and she loved seeing the look on a woman’s face when she found her perfect one. It was an experience that never got old, and it was the reason Bea loved her job.

But her father and siblings hadn’t seen it that way. Fenwick had viewed the shop as a burden, something to be sold quickly so he wouldn’t have to deal with it. When Bea had embraced the chance to own the boutique, her father had been shocked and disappointed. He’d argued long and hard against it, telling her it was beneath her dignity as a Colton to do such work. He thought Bea should marry a rich man and spend her time lunching and volunteering, as all well-bred women did. When Bea refused to fall in line, Fenwick threatened to use his position as Red Ridge’s mayor to make sure the shop failed. But Bea had held firm, and eventually her father had accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to be able to change her mind.

The grandfather clock began to chime the hour, drawing Bea out of her thoughts. The familiar sound was comforting, and for a moment, she could almost feel her grandmother’s presence, as if the kind woman’s spirit had come for a visit.

“Don’t worry, Gram,” Bea said quietly. “I’ll find a way to make this work.”

She walked over to the front door of the shop and flipped the Open sign to Closed. She drew the shades down on the windows and returned to the register. It wouldn’t take long to close up tonight—no one had bought a dress in days.

Jennifer’s returned gown caught her eye as she moved to the back room. The orphaned dress had a forlorn look about it now, as if the bride’s rejection had soaked into the fabric.

Bea shook her head at the fanciful thought and grabbed the dress off the hook. She’d need to inspect it carefully for signs of damage, but it appeared to be in perfect condition. Maybe Jennifer really would come back for it, once the Groom Killer had been caught. If not, perhaps Bea could sell it to another bride...

There was a muffled thump from the direction of the stockroom, and Bea paused in her journey to the back office. She was the only one in the store, so what had caused the noise? Her thoughts flashed to the bakery a few doors down. A pregnant stray cat had gotten in there once, looking for a warm place to deliver. The mama cat and kittens had all been adopted. Maybe another mama cat was looking for shelter from South Dakota in March.

Placing the dress on a nearby rack, Bea headed for the stockroom. She hadn’t gone more than a few steps when the lights flickered off, plunging the store into darkness.

The fine hairs on her arms lifted and she froze, her breath catching in her throat.

“Hello?” she called out uncertainly. She shook her head, feeling foolish. She was the only one in the store, and the lights had probably gone out thanks to a power surge. All she needed to do was walk over to the circuit box and flip the breaker switch back into position. Simple enough, right?

“Right,” she whispered to herself. Bea resumed her walk toward the stockroom, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was not quite right...

She heard a rustling from the front of the store. Was someone coming to rob her?

Lights, she thought, panic rising up her throat. Turn on the lights. If the store really was being robbed, the illumination might spook the would-be thief. She wasn’t brave enough to stick around, though—as soon as she flipped the breaker switch, she was going to escape out the back. Just as she stepped through the door, she caught a whiff of perfume. It was so unexpected, Bea drew up short, confused. She didn’t wear perfume, and she didn’t use air fresheners in the store to prevent the dresses from absorbing odors. Where had the smell come from? And why was it familiar? There was something about the scent that tickled her memory, but before she could put her finger on it, Bea heard a noise to her right. She turned, straining to make out a shape in the darkness. Air blew past her face as someone moved, and then her world exploded in a starburst of pain.

* * *

“Well, what do you think?”

Officer Micah Shaw shrugged at the question. “I think we’re out here on a wild goose chase. You?”

Officer Brayden Colton nodded. “Yeah. It’s starting to look that way to me, too.” He sighed. “I don’t know whether to be relieved, or...” He trailed off, and Micah filled in the blanks.

“You still think Demi is innocent.”

“She’s my sister,” Brayden said simply. “The Demi Colton I know is not a cold-blooded killer.”

Micah didn’t respond. There wasn’t anything he could say, really. Brayden had grown up with Demi and they were family, so naturally he didn’t want to believe she was the Groom Killer. But the evidence suggested otherwise. Most of the Coltons on the Red Ridge police force had a hard time believing one of their own could turn to murder, and Brayden in particular thought his sister was being framed. Micah wasn’t as idealistic. As a former Army Ranger who’d served in Afghanistan, he’d seen the worst of humanity. Nothing shocked him anymore.

“You want to take the far end, and we’ll search down here?” he suggested.

Brayden nodded. “That works. We’ll at least be able to say we covered the whole area when we go back to the office.”

The two men parted ways, and Micah and his K-9 partner, Chunk, set off down the darkening alley.

Personally, he thought they were wasting their time. Chunk was the best cadaver dog in the state—hell, the region—and he’d been placid and calm ever since they’d set foot in the alley. A far cry from the behavior Micah would expect if there was a body present. But since Tucker Frane had stumbled into the station earlier, claiming he saw Demi Colton shoot a man in this very alley just a little while ago, the police had to respond.

Micah, Chunk and Brayden had been dispatched to search the area. So far, all they’d found were a few discarded coffee cups and some cigarette butts. Not exactly the stuff of a crime scene. But they had a job to do, and Micah bagged it all. He was nothing if not thorough...

“Come on, boy,” he said encouragingly to Chunk. “Let’s see if there’s anything to find.”

Chunk waddled alongside Micah, the tips of his ears dragging along the ground as he moved. The red and white basset hound was never going to win any beauty contests, but he had one of the best noses Micah had ever seen.

This wasn’t Micah’s first time working with a furry partner. He’d been paired with a military working dog while serving as an Army Ranger, and the experience had made him appreciate and respect the capabilities of these hardworking animals. Chunk was unlike any dog he’d known, and it had taken some time for Micah to get used to his quirks. But now that they knew each other, he wouldn’t trade Chunk for any other dog in the world.

They wandered slowly down the alley, Micah automatically adjusting his stride to accommodate Chunk’s shorter legs. Chunk kept his nose pressed to the ground, snuffling as he walked, taking in all the scents and likely filing them away for later. Micah knew the dog’s nose could detect thousands, if not tens of thousands, of smells, and it still amazed him that Chunk could sort through all the olfactory “noise” and zero in on the scent of human blood.

He was content to walk alongside Chunk, letting the dog move at his own pace. Even though he doubted they would find anything, this was a good exercise for Chunk. Micah began to let his mind wander, wondering who, exactly, Tucker Frane had seen tonight. The man had been almost frantic as he’d told them about the shooting he’d witnessed. He’d kept looking over his shoulder, as if he expected Demi Colton to stride into the station and shoot him in front of a squad of police officers. Finn Colton, the K-9 unit chief, had wanted Tucker to stick around and answer more questions, but the man had refused. He’d lit out of there like his pants were on fire.

“Let him go,” Finn had said dryly. “I’ll send some men out to talk to him later. In the meantime...”

Why would the man lie? Micah wondered. His story was easily verifiable. What did Tucker stand to gain by sending the police on a fool’s errand?

Chunk suddenly pulled against his lead, interrupting Micah’s thoughts. He focused on the dog, who was now staring intently at the door of one of the stores. “Find something?” Micah asked softly.

Chunk made a low ruff sound in response, and Micah felt his heart pick up speed. He gave the dog his head, and Chunk led him directly to the door, which Micah could now see was ajar. He realized with a little shock that it was the back door to Bea Colton’s bridal salon, and his gut tightened. He hadn’t seen Bea since he’d left for basic training. Once upon a time, he’d thought she was the love of his life. He’d learned the truth the hard way, and the lesson still stung.

Chunk huffed at the door and Micah carefully pulled it open. It was pitch-black inside the store, and he paused on the threshold. Chunk was trained to detect human blood, but he didn’t have any way of communicating if he was scenting something fresh or old. If there was a body inside, Micah didn’t want to surprise the killer and wind up with a bullet for his trouble.

“Police,” he called out loudly. “Identify yourself.”

He could hear the faint wail of a siren in the distance, but there was no sound from within the store. Moving carefully, Micah dropped Chunk’s leash and grabbed his flashlight, keeping his other hand on the butt of his gun.

Chunk darted into the store, presumably heading for the source of the scent. Micah quickly swept the room with his flashlight, searching for any signs that he wasn’t alone. The beam of light revealed nothing but racks of dresses and boxes stacked neatly on shelves. He took a breath and slowly exhaled, focusing on the feel of the room. He didn’t sense anyone else, didn’t hear any breathing or furtive sounds like someone was trying to hide. The place was empty.

There was a switch by the door, but it didn’t work. He ran the beam of his light along the wall again until he caught the glint of the fuse box on the far side. He flipped a few breakers back into position, and the room flooded with light.

Micah blinked against the sudden brightness. “Chunk?” he called. He wasn’t worried about the dog—Chunk would go to the source of the smell he’d detected and no farther.

Chunk barked once, and Micah oriented to the sound. He rounded a rack of dresses and found his partner sitting next to a body on the floor.

A very feminine body...

Micah knelt next to the dog, his breath caught in his throat. No. It couldn’t be.

“Please, no,” he whispered.

As the first on the scene, he had to help her. His hands shook a little as he reached out and grabbed the woman’s shoulders. Carefully, slowly, he turned her onto her back and got a good look at her face.

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. It was Bea Colton.

Chapter 2

Micah stared down at Bea’s bloody face, his heart in his throat. Was she—?

Her chest rose and fell, and relief washed over him as he realized she was still alive.

He reached for his walkie-talkie. “Brayden, I need backup. Call an ambulance.” He quickly relayed his position and returned his focus to Bea. Chunk nosed him inquisitively, and he realized he had forgotten to reward the dog for his find.

“Good job, buddy.” He dug in the pouch on his belt for a treat and absently handed it over. Chunk gobbled it up in one bite, then set about exploring the rest of the room.

“Bea?” Micah gently brushed the hair back from her forehead, noticing the nasty gash along her hairline as he did so. He glanced around, searching for something he could use to stanch the flow of blood from the wound. But all he saw were racks of wedding gowns and frilly lace veils. Bea would kill him if he ruined one of them, so he yanked his shirt from his belt and used his utility knife to cut off a strip from the T-shirt he wore underneath his button-down. It wasn’t sterile, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

She didn’t stir as he pressed the fabric to her head, and his worry grew. He wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious, but since her wound was still bleeding freely, the attack was probably recent. But where was her assailant?

No one had run out of the store into the alley, at least not since he and Brayden had arrived. They must have escaped through the front door. For a split second, Micah considered checking to see if the door was unlocked, but he didn’t want to leave Bea alone while she was still unconscious. Brayden would be here any minute, and he could look around for clues.

“Police!” Brayden’s voice boomed into the otherwise silent store, and some of Micah’s worry eased.

“Over here,” he called.

Brayden was at his side in an instant, his gaze taking in the scene. “What happened?” He knelt beside Micah, frowning at the sight of Bea’s bloody face. This was Brayden’s cousin, and though Micah knew Bea’s and Brayden’s branches of the family weren’t exactly close, it couldn’t be easy to see her this way.

“Not sure,” Micah replied. “Chunk alerted, and when we came in, he found her. No signs of an intruder, but I’m thinking they escaped out the front door since we didn’t see anyone in the alley.”

“I’ll go check.” Brayden stood and headed for the stockroom door. “Uh, Micah?”

“What?”

“I think Chunk has found something else.”

Micah turned to see the dog pacing back and forth in front of the door that led into the store proper. Chunk let out a low whine, and it was clear he was interested in something beyond the door.

“Can you take him?” he asked Brayden. “I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“No problem,” Brayden replied. Technically, Chunk was trained to work with Micah, but he would be fine with Brayden for a moment, especially in a closed environment like the boutique. “Chunk,” Micah commanded. “Go find.”

The dog let out a happy yip and shot into the other room when Brayden opened the door. After a few seconds, Micah heard his characteristic alert bark and knew the dog had discovered something.

Another injured person? Or a corpse?

Micah kept his shirt pressed to Bea’s head, silently willing her to wake up. He was no doctor, but the longer she stayed unconscious, the more his worry grew. “Come on, Bea,” he said softly. “Wake up for me.”

She stirred and her eyes fluttered open.

“Bea.” He breathed out her name on a sigh of relief. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Her dazed eyes focused on him. “Micah?” Her voice was weak, and her tone held a note of wonder as if she couldn’t believe she was really seeing him.

“Yes, it’s me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Don’t leave me.”

Her request pierced his heart. As if he could walk away from her now. “I won’t. I’ll stay with you. I promise.”

She smiled faintly, then closed her eyes again and appeared to drift back into unconsciousness.

“Oh, no you don’t. Wake up. Please keep talking to me.”

She frowned slightly. “Hurts.”

“I know, baby, but you need to stay awake.”

“Okay,” she said agreeably. But her eyes remained closed.

Where’s the ambulance? he thought desperately. The sooner Bea got to the hospital, the better.

Brayden returned at that moment, Chunk by his side. The dog trotted over to Micah and nosed the pouch on his belt, clearly ready for another reward. “Well?” Micah asked as he gave Chunk a treat. He glanced at the pair and then returned his gaze to Bea. Stay awake, he silently pleaded with her.

Brayden crouched down and ran a hand through his hair. “The front door was open. Probably how her assailant got away.”

Micah nodded. “And what else? What did Chunk find?”

His friend blew out a breath and a flash of misery passed across his features. “There’s a body in one of the fitting rooms. Looks like another victim of the Groom Killer.”

* * *

Her head felt like it was going to split open.

Bea winced against the bright lights of the hospital room and tried to shield her face from the glare. But it was no use. Even with her eyes closed, she felt like she was being stabbed directly in the brain with a needle.

Suddenly, the room went dark. “Is that better?”

She turned to the sound of the deep voice she recognized even after all these years apart. Micah.

“Much. Thank you.”

She cautiously opened her eyes to see the room was now in shadows. He’d flipped off the overhead lights and turned on the small bulb mounted under the wall cabinet. Her doctors probably wouldn’t appreciate working in the gloom, but it helped downgrade her headache from excruciating to manageable, and for that she was grateful.

Micah settled into a chair by her bed. “You stayed,” she said, a little surprised to still see him.

He met her eyes, his green gaze steady. “I promised I would.”

“Yes, but...” She trailed off. They had made promises to each other before, promises that hadn’t been kept.

Bea took a moment to study his face. It was still familiar, of course. But he’d changed in the years they’d been apart. Micah had always had a boyish glint in his eyes, a gleam of humor that persisted no matter how serious the situation. She was sad to see it was gone now, and wondered if it was hidden, or if his experiences in the war had permanently changed his personality. There were subtle lines around his mouth and eyes, a testament to the fact that he still smiled, at least. His skin was a warm gold, the product of time spent in the sun, no doubt. And he still had the same build, although he was a bit leaner, a bit harder now than when she’d known him in high school.

“You look good,” she said quietly. There were so many things she wanted to say, and the questions piled up in her throat. Why didn’t you contact me after you left for basic training? Why didn’t you respond to my letters and calls? Did you ever really love me? But she swallowed the impulse to interrogate him. Did it really matter after all this time? It wasn’t as if they could pick up where they’d left off. They had both been eighteen and supposedly in love. So much had happened since then, they were like two different people now. Two strangers, meeting for the first time.

A grin flashed across his face, there and gone in the space of a second. “I wish I could say the same for you,” he said, his gaze darting meaningfully to the bandage on her head. His eyes softened. “This wasn’t how I pictured meeting you again.”

So he’d thought about her, after all? His words gave her a little thrill, but she quickly crushed the feeling. It was only natural she’d cross his mind. Red Ridge wasn’t a huge city, and he’d probably figured it was only a matter of time until they ran into each other. She’d known he moved back to town after retiring from the military. But Bea had assumed she’d have time to mentally and emotionally prepare herself for seeing him again. Being confronted with his presence now brought up all kinds of emotions and feelings she had thought she’d conquered long ago. The experience was almost as unsettling as being attacked in her boutique.

A sudden commotion sounded from the hall, and she thought she heard the muffled boom of her father’s voice. “Oh, no,” she muttered.

Micah rose and headed toward the door. “I’ll take care of it,” he said confidently. “You just rest.”

He was gone before she had a chance to thank him, leaving her alone in the dim room. She leaned her head back against the stiff pillow with a sigh, not knowing whether to be grateful or concerned that Micah had headed out to deal with her father. Fenwick Colton was hard-headed and stubborn and used to getting his way. And he and Micah had always been like oil and water, the two of them never seeing eye to eye. If her father was upset now, and it certainly sounded like he was, seeing Micah would likely send him over the edge.

But Bea was too tired to care right now. Micah wasn’t the same boy she’d dated in high school, and it wouldn’t take long for her father to realize that. Maybe Fenwick would view Micah as an adult now, and treat him accordingly instead of talking down to him like he always had.

“And maybe I’ll sprout wings and fly out of here,” she snorted. The chances of Micah and her father turning over a new leaf were next to impossible, but a girl could dream.

But...did it really matter? After all, she and Micah weren’t exactly going to pick things up where they’d left off. She couldn’t deny the idea was appealing. Part of her had never stopped loving Micah, and she wasn’t going to lie to herself and pretend otherwise. That didn’t mean he felt the same way about her, and even if he did, she wasn’t sure she could forgive him for abandoning her all those years ago.

She shifted on the bed, the memories coming fast and furious now. Their last night together before Micah had left for basic training... They’d held each other all night, planning their future, picturing the life they would build together.

It’ll be over before you know it, he’d whispered into her hair. And once I’m done with basic training, I’ll come back and we’ll get married. I can’t wait to see you wear my ring.

She’d pressed her ear to his chest, loving the sound of his heartbeat in her ear. I’ll write to you every day, she’d promised. And I’ll start planning the wedding.

He’d left early the next morning, and she’d spent the rest of the week trying not to cry. True to her word, she’d written to him every day, sealing each letter with a kiss. She’d known he’d be too busy to write back, so it was an exciting surprise to find a letter from him about ten weeks after he left.

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