Second Chance Colton

“Hold on a minute, Greta, I’ve got another call coming in.”

He could almost hear her sign of relief. “Take your call, Ryan. I’ve got to go,” she told him a beat before the line went dead.

Frustrated, Ryan blew out a breath. He’d just been about to tell her to remain on the line but she had hung up before he had the chance.

He tried not to read anything incriminating into Greta’s quick and abrupt withdrawal. If need be, he’d get Susie’s rather annoying intern to pinpoint Greta’s exact location to make doubly sure that his sister was actually where she said she was. Armed with that information, he could determine just where she was staying so he could drive to Oklahoma City and bring his sister back if he needed to.

He hated this.

What he hated even more was that he had a very strong hunch that “needed to” was going to turn out to be a reality, and soon.

Very soon.

“Colton,” he announced as he took the incoming call.

“You better get out here, boy,” a shaken voice instructed him.

For one isolated moment, Ryan didn’t recognize the voice. But he could be forgiven for that since he had never heard his father sounding this way. Stunned. Numb. And battling complete disbelief—as well as sounding just the tiniest bit fearful.

“Dad?” Ryan asked, still only half-certain that he was right.

“Yeah, it’s me.” His father’s voice, usually so bombastic and full of life, sounded incredibly old. “Get out here as quick as you can, Ryan. And come alone,” his father added, emphasizing the last word.

“More vandalism?” Ryan asked wearily. He’d had just about enough drama to last for a while.

“No,” his father snapped, dismissing the question as inconsequential. “It’s bad.”

Okay, Ryan thought. This sounded serious. And personal. He could only think of one thing that would prompt his father to evaluate the situation this way. “Is it Mother?” he asked, even as he prayed—something he hadn’t done in more years than he could remember—that it wasn’t.

“No. No, it’s not Abra,” his father was quick to say. “But you have to get out here.”

The urgency in his father’s voice was unnerving. There was a time when their father had them all intimidated. John Colton was a big man who cast a large shadow and had a voice like gravel.

“Then what is it?” Ryan asked. Now that he thought about it, his father almost sounded spooked. If this didn’t involve his mother, why did his father sound like he was frightened?

“Damn it, Ryan, I can’t talk about this over the phone. What good is it having a police detective in the family if I have to argue with you every time I need you to handle something for me? Just get out here, Ryan,” his father ordered. “Now.”

He knew better than to think that his father was playing games. Something else had happened on the ranch and rather than wasting time trying to get his father to tell him what was going on, he needed to see this for himself.

“Where’s ‘here,’ Dad?” he asked.

“The ranch, of course,” Big J retorted. “You suddenly gone dumb on me?”

Ryan didn’t bother answering that. “It’s big ranch, Dad. Where on the ranch? The main house, the Cabin, what?”

The main house was where his parents lived, along with Brett, his wife and Greta when she was in Tulsa. Jack, his wife and his son lived in what had once been the main house until the new one had been built, while Daniel and Megan lived in what everyone just referred to as “the Cabin.” That, too, was located on the ranch.

“Come to the bunkhouse,” his father instructed in a voice that was almost eerily still.

After terminating the call, Ryan tossed his cell phone onto the passenger seat and started up his vehicle.

Given the situation, the logical thing would have been to bring backup with him, especially since his father had sounded so shaken up, an unusual state of affairs when it came to Big J.

But since his father had also been adamant no one else come to the ranch to see this—whatever “this” was—except for him, Ryan felt as if he had to go with his father’s instincts.

Besides, his instincts told him to play this very close to his vest—at least until he knew what the hell was going on.

Ryan paused only long enough to reach into his glove compartment to take out his vehicle’s emergency-light attachment. Switching it on, he placed the whirling red and yellow lights onto his roof, securing it. Once he had, he hit the gas and took off.

* * *

Ryan did between eighty and ninety all the way to the ranch, something he would have loved to have done as a teenager. He would have enjoyed it a lot more then than now.

Once he reached the ranch, he took the long way around to the bunkhouse, passing all the other buildings just in case his father had been addled when he’d told him where to go. Ryan assumed that if that was the case, he would see his father standing in front of whatever structure he’d actually meant to direct him toward.

But Big J was not out in front of the main house.

Or the old main house.

Or the Cabin.

The process of elimination told him that his father had really meant to direct him to the bunkhouse.

Why was his father being so melodramatic? Was this actually just another break-in, complete with its own acts of vandalism?

This was definitely getting old, Ryan thought as he headed toward the bunkhouse.

His father was waiting for him out front.

Ryan could make out the lines etched in his father’s face. They were evident even at this distance.

After pulling up in front of the bunkhouse, Ryan got out of his vehicle. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as his father was making it sound.

“Okay, what’s the big emergency?” Ryan asked his father as he approached.

“This way,” was all his father said as he gestured for Ryan to follow him into the bunkhouse.

“What the hell is all this mystery about?” Ryan asked impatiently.

“You’ll see,” Big J told him grimly.

Walking behind his father as they entered the building, Ryan thought that he was pretty much prepared for anything.

But he was wrong.

Chapter 4 (#ulink_4675eb17-4c49-5926-921b-15542760fc3d)

There was a dead man lying on his back in the center of the bunkhouse floor, a drying pool of blood beneath him, a surprised look frozen on his young face.