Karen Whiddon – Runaway Colton (страница 8)

Instead, she forced herself to focus on his statement. “Tell me about her. What does she like to do for fun? Does she have any hobbies?”

His blank look told her he truly didn’t know.

Briefly, she closed her eyes. “How involved in her life were you, exactly?”

He swore. Under his breath, but still loud enough for her to hear. “I tried.” His grim voice contained both bewilderment and guilt. “She pushed me away at every turn. Renee couldn’t come to grips with the thought of living with me, an uncle she barely knew. She constantly tried to re-create her parents’ lifestyle. I guess she believed she could find comfort in the familiar.”

Unable to find the right words, Piper said nothing. She actually had to curl her fingers into her palms, nails digging into her skin, to keep from reaching out to him.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Pushing to his feet, he shook himself, like a dog shaking off water. “I don’t mean to sound so pitiful.”

“You don’t. I get what you’re telling me. It was a lot more difficult than you expected, trying to raise a teenager.”

“Yes.” Sounding relieved, he sat back down. “I probably was overprotective. I didn’t want her to make the same mistakes her mother made.”

“I bet the more you pushed, the worse she pulled in the other direction. Poor kid just wanted love and acceptance. She didn’t understand you were loving her the only way you knew how.”

“Exactly.”

She thought for a second. “Okay, let’s start with the basics. Did she graduate high school?”

“Yes.”

“Good. What were her plans for after graduation? College? Junior college?”

He snorted, then looked ashamed. “She had no plans that I know of. I figured she liked to party. At least she had a job.”

“Aha.” Finally something concrete. “Where did she work?”

“Several places. All waitressing jobs. She liked waitressing. And she did well, until she got fired.”

“Why? What’d she do to make them let her go?”

“Actually, I’m not sure. I figured partying, but for all I know she could have stolen something.”

Shocked, Piper struggled with the idea that Cord hadn’t bothered to find out. “Getting fired is a direct hit on anyone’s self-confidence. You never asked her why?”

“Hey.” He spread his hands in a defensive gesture. “Every time I tried to talk to her about anything, whether it was about the weather or something more personal, like school or her job, she’d shut down and refuse to answer.”

“What about after graduation?”

“The only time I ever heard her mention any sort of aspiration was that she wanted to tend bar. She said she was tired of waitressing. I told her she wasn’t old enough to be a bartender. She looked at me and told me there were ways around her age.”

With a sigh, she tried to keep her tone light. “Her last job—did she quit or get fired?”

He took another swig of water before answering. “I guess you could say both. She stopped showing up for work and they fired her.”

“I assume since you appear to have covered all the bases that you’ve already talked to her friends.”

To her surprise, he grimaced. “I tried. But she never brought anyone to the house and her coworkers couldn’t think of any friends—male or female—either.”

Her heart squeezed. “Poor kid. She was trying to cope all on her own.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced. “But the more realistic possibility is that she does have friends. Friends that are the type to stay hidden. The kind she knew I wouldn’t approve of. Drug dealers and addicts. People like the ones she must have grown up around, since her parents no doubt brought them home.”

“I don’t know.” Piper shook her head. “Have you ever considered the possibility that she might want the opposite lifestyle? She’s new here. Maybe she’s shy. It’s really hard on teenagers moving to a new place and school.”

“She’s been here two years. Even the biggest wallflower in the world would have made a friend or two after all that time. Remember, she liked to party. No one does that alone.”

Since she hadn’t actually met his niece, Piper figured he’d be more equipped to know. “Okay. Did you talk to her school? The teachers, her guidance counselor, anyone like that?”

“Yes.” Cord’s expression might have been carved from stone. “Most of them barely remembered her. Except the art teacher. That woman couldn’t stop talking about how talented Renee is.”

“Art?” Now they were getting somewhere. Most likely, Renee had used her art to help her cope with her loneliness, the same way Piper did with her refinishing old furniture. “What kind of art? Does she paint or sculpt or...?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the art teacher seemed surprised to hear she’d run away. She said before graduation, she and Renee had been looking at art schools so Renee could apply.”

“Did she? Apply to any schools?” Though Piper had often been accused of wearing rose-colored glasses, she felt a strange sort of kinship with this girl, despite never meeting her.

“Again, I don’t know.” A slight edge had crept into his voice, as if he realized this was the sort of information he should have been privy to.

She didn’t know him well enough to take him to task for his lack of knowledge about someone he’d shared his home with for twenty-four months.

* * *

Cord knew what Piper thought. Truth be told, he couldn’t actually blame her. He’d done a crappy job of trying to raise Renee for the past two years. Part of that was due to his complete and utter unpreparedness and lack of experience.

The other part, the one he had trouble admitting even to himself, was from the instant he’d met the troubled sixteen-year-old, she’d reminded him of his sister, Denice. If Renee went down the same path as Denice had, Cord knew it would kill him.

He’d tried. By all that was holy, he’d tried. Every mistake he’d made—and there’d been plenty—he’d tried to rectify.

While he knew Piper wasn’t judging him, hearing his own answers to her innocuous questions had made him inwardly cringe.

“Let’s focus on you now,” he said, aware changing the subject wouldn’t make his errors go away. “You say you were framed?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have many enemies?”

Startled, she considered. “I never thought about that before. It’s possible. I do tend to be outspoken about what I feel is right. Not everyone agrees with me.”

“Let’s narrow that down. Anyone get angry with you recently?”

“Fowler and Marceline, but that’s nothing unusual, I can barely breathe without annoying one or the other, Marceline especially. She likes to harp on the fact that I’m not a real Colton.” She spoke matter-of-factly, simply because that’s the way it had always been for as long as she could remember.

“I remember,” he said, his expression inscrutable. “She did that even when we were all kids. What I never could figure out is why. It’s not like she was born a Colton, either.”

Secretly pleased, Piper looked down at her hands to hide her smile. “Yeah, the logic she used never failed to amaze me.”

“Anyone else?” he pressed. “Figuring out who tried to frame you would be a step in making sure you’re acquitted.”

“I’ll think about it and make you a list.” Though she’d only been half-serious, he nodded.

“You do that. Knowing who to investigate will put us that much closer to finding out who’s trying to frame you.”

The simple statement, made in such a matter-of-fact tone, floored her. Probably because after Fowler and Marceline’s accusations, the idea that this man, whom she barely knew, actually believed her, made her feel weepy and joyful all at once.

“Thank you,” she told him. “I’ll get busy on that right away.”

“Here.” Handing her a pad of paper and a pen, he smiled. The masculine sensuality of that smile made her heart skip. “While you do that, I’ve got some chores to complete.”

“It shouldn’t take too long. I don’t think I have too many enemies.”

He laughed. “Once you get to thinking about it, it might surprise you.”

And he left. Leaving her staring at a blank piece of paper trying to figure out who might hate her enough to frame her.

* * *

Piper Colton had no idea of the power of her own beauty, Cord thought as he trudged out to the barn. He’d known other beautiful women before and without exception, every move, every smile or glance, had been carefully and artfully calculated to show their attributes off to the best advantage. Piper, on the other hand, appeared genuine. Sweet and kind. And sexy as hell.

He considered himself lucky he had chores to keep his mind off where it didn’t belong.

The wind had shifted to the north, bringing a chill. He brought the horses into the barn first, making sure they were snug in their stalls. Then he rounded up his goats and put them all in one stall. After they’d all been fed, he refilled the watering troughs and left them bunkered down.

Before heading in, he grabbed a bundle of firewood to take inside with him.

Piper sat where he’d left her, legs tucked up under her, pad and pen in hand.