Page 103 of Colton's Last Resort

Noah closed his eyes. He needed to let Allison go. He knew that. And Crabtree was right. It was time. “Yes, sir.”

The hospital was five minutes from the SPD. Despite the cold and the sleet that fell sideways, he walked there.

“Laura Colton,” he said to the woman at the information desk.

“It’s after visiting hours.”

He dug into his pocket before placing his badge on the desk for her to see.

She frowned. “One moment,” she said before tapping the screen in front of her. “Ms. Colton is in recovery. Room twenty-four.”

“Thanks,” he said before exiting the atrium and following the corridors to the Recovery ward. She wasn’t in surgery, he consoled himself. Or the ER. Which meant she was going to be okay.

He’d heard her scream. As he’d followed Fulton across the pool area on the way to Bungalow Two, he’d heard her call for help. At first, he’d thought it had been coming from the pool cabana.

Like Allison, he’d thought, frantic. Then he’d discovered the couple grappling in the dark off the path behind it. He’d seen Doug on top of Laura, his hands around her throat, and he’d nearly screamed himself hoarse.

Noah passed the door to number twenty-four. He halted and backtracked, the soles of his boots squeaking on the clean linoleum.

Through the window, he could see her brothers, one on either side of her. Joshua was hunkered down beside her in bed. Her head nestled on his shoulder while Adam sat on the bed’s edge, his arm across the top of her pillows, head low over hers.

Noah thought about walking away, leaving them alone. They were family. A proper one. And a proper family took care of their own.

He watched as his hand rose to knock.

Adam lifted his head as the others stirred. He motioned for them to stay where they were as he stood and crossed to the door. When it opened, he looked at Noah. More, he looked through him before blinking and seeming to come to his senses. “Oh,” he said. “It’s you.”

“Can I come in?” Noah asked.

Adam ran a hand through his hair. It wasn’t as neat as it usually was. “Are you here on police business?”

He should have said yes. What came out was “No.”

Adam nodded and stepped aside.

Joshua sat up as Noah entered. Noah looked past him to Laura. She had raised herself up on her elbows. He could see the cut on her mouth, the red mark around the bridge of her nose, the fading bruise on her temple, and the shadows of hands on her throat that would soon fly their colors, too. She looked weary around the eyes, but clarity rang true in them.

Joshua rose and moved into Noah’s path to the bed. When Noah only sized him up, Joshua offered him a hand.

“What’s this?” Noah asked cautiously.

“I’d like to shake hands with Allison’s brother,” Joshua said.

The others must have told baby brother everything, Noah realized. He reached out and took Joshua’s hand.

The man squeezed his. “If you hadn’t gotten to her in time...”

Noah had thought along the same lines. If he and Fulton had been a minute behind... If he’d spent any longer on the phone tracking Doug’s victims...

“You lost your sister,” Joshua said, “and saved mine. I won’t forget that.”

“Nor will I,” Adam added. “We owe you an immense debt of gratitude.”

He didn’t want their gratitude. He didn’t want Joshua’s idea of a truce. He’d spent the better part of the evening chiding himself for working after hours. If he’d been with Laura at the party, she wouldn’t have felt compelled to run off into the night and...

He saw Doug’s hands around her throat again. He heard her choking. His hands balled into fists and he felt the quaver go straight through as fear lanced him.

“May I speak with her?” he asked. “Alone.”

---