Page 86 of Colton Family Bodyguard (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

“And the redhead wasn’t working that night, so if she is his wife, the killer probably wasn’t here.”

“Nope.” She looked around the bar and he saw her stop short when she spotted a table with a lone man sitting there.

He was the same height and build as the man who kept showing up at the inn and following them and shooting at them. He had no hat on and no sunglasses. In a holey pair of faded jeans and a black Deadwood T-shirt, he had a day or two’s worth of facial stubble. His longish brown hair convinced Callum he was their man.

“He’s watching the redhead,” Hazel said.

Yes, he was. And very intently. The killer’s face turned stormy, his brows lowered. He had all the mannerisms of an insanely jealous man, a power tripper. He looked the type to need absolute control over his woman. He was so involved with policing the redhead that he didn’t notice Callum and Hazel watching him.

Callum looked back at the waitress and saw her smiling at one of the men drinking at a table. The man didn’t seem drunk. He was clean-cut and dressed in dark jeans with no holes in them and a nice polo. Callum watched him after the redhead left the table. He wasn’t drinking fast and when the others ordered another round, he declined. He made the redhead smile and this time laugh as he talked with her.

“Oh boy,” Hazel said.

Callum looked over at the killer. He had gotten up and marched across the bar toward the man at the table.

Standing up, Callum heard the killer say in a loud, angry tone, “Why are you flirting with my wife?”

Looking startled, the man looked up. “I didn’t know she was married.”

“She’s wearing a ring, you idiot!”

“I didn’t look, sorry, man. All I did was thank her for the beer and tell her she was too pretty to be working in a place like this.”

“Why did she laugh like you said something funny?”

The other man stood. “Dude, calm down. Nothing happened. Just casual talk. You should be flattered I think you have a beautiful wife.”

A woman who deserved better than a killer as a husband. Callum watched that man shove the other.

“Do you always hit on other men’s wives?”

“Hey. What’s your problem?” The man shoved him back.

The killer took a swing, hitting the other man. Callum stalked to them, planting his hand on the murderer’s chest and getting between them.

“That’s enough.” Callum pushed the killer back, forcing him to step farther away from him and the clean-cut man.

The man behind him tried to get around Callum to go after the killer. Callum lost some balance and the killer took a swing at him and clipped his jaw. Callum’s glasses went flying. The man behind him had grabbed hold of his wig, pulling it off his head. The man had meant to pull him out of the way but the wig stopped him.

Callum gave him a shove and growled, “Back off!”

“You!” the killer snarled, recognizing Callum.

Callum ducked as the killer made another swing at him and the punch caught the man behind him. Callum swiped his opponent’s leg out from under him, sending him down. But the killer lunged for him, plowing into him and driving them both back into the table of drinking men. Callum landed on his back, spilling beer glasses and scattering the seated men.

Using his feet, Callum kicked the killer, sending him flying backwa

rd and sliding on his back through the broken and spilled glasses of beer. He bumped into another table.

Going toward him, he saw the killer get to his feet and look around, finding Hazel standing near their table. The other man sprinted toward her, causing an instant flash of fear in Callum.

He ran to Hazel as the killer drew a pistol and she pivoted and started to head for the exit. But the killer was on her too fast. He grabbed her, spun her around and put the pistol to her temple.

Callum stopped short, just a couple of feet from them. He looked at Hazel’s terrified eyes. She must be thinking of her daughter. Callum had failed her.

He stood frozen for a few seconds, before anger took over. No way would he lose another woman like this!

With a lightning-fast gesture, he knocked the gun upward. It went off but the bullet shot toward the ceiling. Callum kicked the man and sent him back and away from Hazel. As Kerry and other officers, including the plainclothes cop, burst in, Hazel ran to the bar and huddled with some other people, and Callum drew his own gun and aimed it at the killer’s head.

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