Hugh took a backward step toward the steps of the small plane, and Reid yanked himself from his reflection. “Hugh, stop!”
“No! I’m leaving. I’d die in prison. I refuse to suffer the humiliation of a trial and a jail cell and...”
Reid darted from behind the truck to the door of the hangar, staying behind the wall, but nearer to Hugh. He could almost reach him. Could almost dash out and tackle him during a distraction... “Barrington, I will shoot you to keep you from getting on that plane. Don’t put me in that position. I love Penelope, and I don’t want to be responsible for shooting her father.”
That made him stop. He regarded Reid with a sadness in his eyes. “Penelope.” He heaved a deep sigh. “She hates me. She’d be better off without me.”
“You’ve hurt her. You ignored her for years. Her and her mother. Then you took Andrew from her. Can you blame her for being angry?”
“No.” Hugh’s gun arm faltered, his hand drooping, and his gaze grew bleary, unfocused. “You...you’ll take care of her? And the boy?”
Reid narrowed his gaze, his heart thundering. “If she’ll have me, I... I want to marry her. I want to be Nicholas’s father.”
Hugh took another step backward toward the plane. “Yes, you do that.”
Reid tightened his grip on his weapon, his finger curled around the trigger. “Now, you put gun down and step away from it.”
Hugh scoffed. “No, Reid. I told you I can’t go to jail. I won’t...”
Then Barrington raised the gun to his own chin...and fired.
Chapter 21
The next day, Penelope stood in the door to Andrew’s man cave/office and stared numbly at the half-packed boxes she’d abandoned close to three weeks earlier. Before...
She choked back tears thinking of all that had changed in those weeks, all the ways she’d lost her father. First when she’d learned of his crimes, then when she’d learned of her adoption and finally when she’d learned of his death.
With a deep breath to steel herself, she walked in and sat behind Andrew’s desk. Lucky was curled up asleep in one of the boxes, and the evidence of the kitten’s last escapade, a scattered and partially shredded stack of magazines lay next to the box.
Penelope swept her gaze around the rest of the clutter. Finishing the cleanup of Andrew’s things would keep her busy, her hands occupied if not her mind. She grieved the loss of Hugh Barrington, but in a much different way than she’d have imagined. She mourned the loss of what he could have been. The relationship they’d never repair, the brilliant career he’d ruined for greed, the potential he’d squandered on jealousy. Her chest ached with a hollowness she knew might never be whole again. A gaping wound of disappointment and unfinished business.
Reid Colton was another case of unfinished business. She hadn’t seen much of Reid in the last twenty-four hours. After her father killed himself, Reid had stayed to work with the police while she took Nicholas to the doctor. When she’d heard the gunshot from the Range Rover, her heart had stilled, fearing Reid had been the one killed. Even now, thinking back on that moment, her insides seesawed and bile collected in her throat.
A deputy from the sheriff’s department had stopped by to quiz her about all of the events of the past several days, starting with the day she’d found Andrew’s cubbyhole in the wall. The day she and Reid had launched their investigation of her father, been shot at, and gone into hiding at Reid’s lake house. The day her feelings for Reid Colton had turned the corner from bitterness to gratitude. The beginning of her journey to falling in love with him.
But where would that road lead?
We need to talk. That conversation still hadn’t happened. He’d been busy with police matters, crime scenes, his family’s reactions to the news of Hugh’s death...while she’d been busy with Nicholas. Already, only three doses into his antibiotic, her boy was clearly feeling better. She had to keep a sterile earplug in his ear for a few more days, a challenge with a toddler, but Nicholas would make a full recovery.
And wasn’t that just the story of their lives? Reid, the skilled crime fighter, the protector and defender, the billionaire playboy with the large blended family to contend with. Her, the single mother, whose sole focus was her son. They were so different. They’d always been different. Why did she think they could possibly make a life together work?
The chiming of her doorbell roused her from her maudlin musing. When she opened her front door to Reid, her tension mounted. His face looked haggard, the cuts and bruises from his fight with Lenny more pronounced today. His mouth was set in a thin line of despondency, and that frightened her the most.
“Reid? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” she asked as she stood back to let him enter her living room.
He gave her a half smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm you with my glum self.” He swiped a hand over his face as he lowered himself onto her couch. “I’m just tired. In addition to all the questions from the police, I’ve been to the hospital to see Fowler and downtown to talk to my father.”
She gave her head a shake and dropped onto the sofa next to him. “Whoa. What? Your father?”
He raised a puzzled glance and then huffed a short laugh. “Oh, that’s right. In the midst of all this other insanity I hadn’t told you what came of my stakeout. Eldridge is alive and planning to come home tomorrow. He wants it to be a surprise for the family.”
He went on to explain all he’d learned about the senior Colton’s scheme and how he’d enlisted the butler and his wife to aid and abet his shenanigans.
Penelope rocked back in her seat. “Well, at least your father’s story has a happy ending.”
Reid covered her hand with his. “Pen, I’m sorry about your dad. I couldn’t stop him. I—”