Page 16 of Colton First Responder (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

He did, however, notice a kid playing in some rubble near a damaged building. The kid wore an Arizona State Sun Devils T-shirt, which reminded Grayson of the Arizona State Sun Devils pin that had been found in his father’s office after his dad was shot. Payne remained in a coma—and no one knew yet who’d done it. The pin might be a clue to the shooter’s identity.

Grayson suddenly found himself uncharacteristically overwhelmed by concern for his father. He wasn’t particularly close to him, but still, Payne Colton was his dad, and he had been shot.

Maybe his emotions were brought on by the earthquake and knowing people had been injured, sometimes killed, and parts of the town had been wrecked...

Well, despite never really feeling close to his family, or particularly fond of Colton Oil, right now Grayson felt even mo

re isolated from his siblings than usual.

And why didn’t he feel close? Because of nearly everyone’s obsession with Colton Oil. Sure, it made a lot of money for the family, but he hadn’t like the pressure he had felt while growing up to get involved with the business. In fact, he had wound up ignoring it, starting out in the military, then becoming a wilderness guide and ultimately a first responder instead. Which hadn’t sat well with his dad or some of his siblings. Well, too bad.

Drawing his gaze away from the kid and attempting to shrug off those thoughts, he continued walking. He frequently looked down streets leading off the main road. Some homes appeared okay, at least from this angle. Others seemed damaged—and a few were destroyed.

What a shame, he thought.

He passed one chain discount store that looked closed, damaged, possibly ruined. Then there was an open pharmacy but he wasn’t sure he could find all he wanted there.

Interestingly, he saw several tables arranged along what remained of the sidewalk, staffed by people he didn’t recognize. The signs indicated they were members of a small self-help group he had heard of: the Affirmation Alliance Group. They seemed to greet everyone who walked by, although Grayson didn’t stop. Some even called out to passersby that they were there to help them. They claimed to have a place for people to stay who couldn’t go back home now, right at their own very special guest ranch. How had they gotten things set up so fast after the quake? Of course, from what Grayson had heard about them, they were supposed to be all about teaching others how to help themselves, so maybe they had procedures developed for all kinds of situations or disasters, including earthquakes.

He’d heard a lot about the good work the group and its founder, Micheline Anderson, did, including holding self-help seminars at that ranch, but something about them made him a bit uneasy.

Good thing he didn’t need someplace else to live. In any event, if that group truly helped people in need around here, more power to them.

There. He had reached another chain discount store where he should be able to find all the supplies he intended to buy. It appeared fine, and open. He went inside and grabbed a cart, glad he didn’t see anyone he knew as he started picking up a lot of basic stuff that most people, especially the Coltons, were likely to already have around their houses.

If anyone asked, he would claim that the earthquake was his rationale, since, although he knew his family ranch was fine, who knew when all the basic supplies would be available around here again?

So...he tossed into his cart cleaning supplies, paper towels, batteries, a couple of additional flashlights—the size of his and not Savannah’s—and a lot more.

However, he’d thought this place also carried basic food items like bread, but it didn’t.

When he got into the checkout line, one of half a dozen in a row, all with signs indicating they were open, he thought he recognized the clerk, darn it. And even if the man hadn’t recognized him, Grayson had stuck a credit card in the reader, so of course his name appeared.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Colton,” the guy, a senior with white hair and a beard, said. “Did you find everything you were looking for?” He looked curious yet friendly.

Grayson decided not to mention the food. There was a store he would pass later that would be better for those kinds of provisions anyway.

Instead, he offered a bland explanation of sorts. “We’re probably just fine, but I wanted to make sure we’ve got the basics at the ranch—especially since I’d imagine your headquarters’ ability to deliver more to this store could have been affected by the quake.”

“Could be, but I think we’re fine. Anyway, come back anytime if you need anything else. We’ll do all we can to accommodate you, of course.”

“Thanks,” Grayson said, not surprised by the guy’s attitude. Grayson was a Colton, even if he maintained a distance from his family. But strangers wouldn’t know that. And it might not matter anyway. The Coltons had power.

And they, and even he, had money, thanks to Colton Oil.

The clerk stuffed everything into three large plastic bags.

Fortunately, the store that was his next goal was only another block away. He just hoped it was undamaged and open, too.

Which it was. It sold tech, including computers and telephones—and of course the latter was Grayson’s target. He was able to purchase a disposable one—a burner phone—without anyone asking questions. Although the woman who waited on him commented he wasn’t the only person seeking this kind of phone today, since so many people had apparently lost their phones and technical connections in the quake that they’d come here to buy temporary phones till they figured out what to do next.

He simply nodded and put on a sad face, telling her, “That sounds familiar.” He had enough cash with him so he did not have to provide a credit card here. He was glad he so seldom came to this part of town that no one in this store, at least, recognized him. Plus, he bought a battery-operated charger and extra batteries. He wanted to make certain the phone had plenty of time and power connected to it so Savannah would be able to use it for a while anonymously.

And when she couldn’t use it any longer? Well, it wasn’t really his concern, but he was concerned. He would just have to see where things stood then—and whether he would feel committed to acquire another of these important devices for her.

He walked back to his office building as quickly as he could, again relieved that he didn’t see anyone he knew. When he arrived, he immediately went around back to the parking lot to place his purchases in the trunk before going back inside to check in with his staff again.

“I’m just going to do some looking around to see if there are any others, government agencies or otherwise, who need our help today,” he told Pedro, the first of his gang that he saw in the reception area.

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