Page 78 of Colton's Last Resort

Tallulah nodded in a vague, distracted motion.

Laura wrestled with her guilt. The call went to voicemail and she redialed. “Come on, Noah. Pick up.”

“Why are you calling him?” Tallulah queried.

Laura knew she couldn’t explain. She waited through a second procession of rings, then all but growled when it went to voicemail. “Noah. It’s Laura. I need you to call me back as soon as you get this. It’s urgent.” She dropped the phone back to the cradle. “Where is Bella now?”

“I had Mato drive her home,” Tallulah admitted. “She was too upset to drive herself.”

“We’ll need her to make a statement,” Laura said. “She’s already told her story to you. Do you think she’ll do so again if you’re there with her?”

“Maybe,” Tallulah offered after a moment’s thought. “But she was adamant, Laura. No police.”

“She may not have a choice.” Laura headed toward the door. “Can you call Roland and have him meet me at Bungalow Three? I’m going to have a word with Roger Ferraday.”

“Ms. Colton.” Roger Ferraday grinned winningly when he found Laura on his doorstep. “This is a surprise.”

“Mr. Ferraday,” she greeted him. Roland hadn’t arrived yet, but she’d knocked on the door of Bungalow Three regardless. “Is your son here?”

“Dayton?” Roger gave her a puzzled look. “Why?”

“There’s been a security breach. We’re just checking to make sure all guests are present and accounted for.”

“Security breach?” Roger’s smile tapered. “Should I be concerned?”

“We don’t believe so,” she blurted. “If you could assure me your son is in residence, please...”

“He is,” Roger assured her. “I think he’s still in bed.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Laura asked.

“You’re scaring me, Ms. Colton,” Roger said, visibly paling.

“Have you checked on him this morning?” she asked. “Are you sure he’s in his bedroom?”

“I’ll go check,” Roger said, and he left the door open as he fumbled away. He called his son’s name, rushing.

Laura took the open door as an invitation and stepped inside the bungalow. She smelled men’s cologne and takeout. The table was crowded with to-go containers, and she spied a pile of wet towels through the door to the pool deck. Housekeeping hadn’t come through yet.

Thank goodness, she thought.

“Here he is,” Roger announced with obvious relief as he returned to the living area with his son. “He was sleeping in, just as I told you.”

Laura eyed the slouch-framed boy with a messy lid of black curls. He peered at her, unhappy to have been roused from sleep.

“What’s the big deal?” he asked in a baritone. He was of medium height, skinny, but she saw deceptive strength in the long arms that hung from the sleeves of his oversized Ed Hardy T-shirt.

If she searched his room, would she find fentanyl?

Had he killed Allison?

She unscrewed her jaw so that she could speak. Fury tried to bite down on the words. “I’m going to have to ask you to stay here.”

“Me? What did I do?”

She glared at him. “You know exactly what you did.”

His eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward. “Are you accusing me of something?”

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