Page 59 of Colton First Responder (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

Fortunately, she knew more than he’d realized

Those he talked to could, and probably would, involve at least Schuyler and, most likely, Ian.

If so—well, she could hope there was enough there to turn over to the police as evidence of her own innocence. Would anything show that Zane wasn’t in as excellent financial condition as he’d let on to the world? Would there be any evidence of plane tickets he had booked or hotel reservations he had made?

Savannah had already informed Grayson about what she intended to seek, and he sounded happy to help. Grayson had started driving. “Are you okay back there?”

“I sure am,” she responded.

They had already discussed where they would go first. Savannah had an urge to visit one of the stores she had once frequented, where she hoped the sales staff and patrons wouldn’t recognize her.

Grayson had talked her out of that. “Let’s start small,” he said, convincing her to go to a convenience store she sometimes visited for things she needed at the last minute, where maybe someone could recognize her usual appearance but they didn’t know her well.

Savannah had agreed to do things Grayson’s way. After all, he was the first responder. He knew a lot more about police investigations.

Besides, if all went well at the convenience store, they could follow it up by doing things Savannah’s way—

Before she did as she intended, whether Grayson agreed to it or not. She would sneak into Zane’s house, her former home, and do the search she had been thinking about, which could help her get out of this mess. Maybe. At least she had a plan that shouldn’t call attention to someone entering the house.

As they had discussed, Grayson pulled into a parking structure at the edge of town, on one of the middle levels. He got out first without locking the door.

Savannah—Chloe—had her burner phone with her, sound turned off. About five minutes after Grayson left, he called her, and her phone vibrated. “I’m at the stairway and don’t see anyone else around,” he said. “You can get out now.”

She stuck the cap Grayson had given her over her head above the glasses. She also pulled on a bulky, old-looking jacket he’d given her over her T-shi

rt. Keeping her phone in her pocket with her hand over it, in case she needed to yank it out and call Grayson again, she did her best to sneak out of the car from her prone position on the back seat. They had decided she could take the elevator downstairs—her first experiment with being seen and, possibly, recognized.

Which she wasn’t. A woman rode with her in the elevator, and she didn’t seem to know, or pay any attention, to Savannah.

Step number one—a success!

The convenience store that was Savannah’s target was a couple of blocks away, and she headed there at a good, strong pace without, she hoped, appearing too fast or too slow. In a few minutes, she arrived and pulled open the glass door at the front.

The first person she saw was Grayson. They ignored each other. But Savannah liked the way he looked. Today he had on a long-sleeved blue T-shirt he must have kept at the bunker.

Savannah walked around and picked up supplies like water, wheat bread and cheese slices. Normal stuff. Nothing to call attention to her. Grayson had given her cash to pay for it, which she did.

“Did you find everything you were looking for, ma’am?” the young guy at the checkout stand asked. He looked familiar and looked at her as he spoke but didn’t react in any way.

“Yes, thanks.” She tried to keep her voice from shaking. The kid was just being polite by talking to her, as sales clerks were supposed to do. If she remained cool and just acted like a regular patron, everything should be fine.

“Good.” He handed her the plastic bag containing her purchases, and some change. “Have a nice day.”

“You, too.”

There. That interaction was normal. He undoubtedly asked the same question of all the customers and wished them each a good day.

Everything still was going fine.

Until she walked outside.

She’d met Grayson’s eye where he stood near the door. He was thumbing through a local newspaper, but she had seen him glancing at her now and then.

She had ignored him as if he was a total stranger. Which he was, to Chloe.

Now, as she moved onto the sidewalk, a police car drove slowly by. She tried to keep her gasp inside and keep walking.

Were the cops inside it looking at her? Did they know who she was? Had someone in the store called them?

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