Page 86 of Colton’s Inferno

“And you’re sure that it’s him?” Ted asked.

“I’m sure that his fingerprints were pulled off the lock that was used to trap Lucy Harris in a burning barn. I’m sure that I’m on my way to see him.” Callum added, “And I’m sure that I’m going to arrest him for attempted murder. Whatever happens after that is up to Stu and the court system.”

“Sounds like you have a lot going on,” said Ted. “I’m going to let you go and do your job. Keep me posted.”

“We will,” said Aiden.

“And be careful,” Ted added, ending the call.

Chapter 22

The ping of an incoming text pulled Stu Whittier from sleep. He rolled to his side and pulled the blankets over his shoulder. The phone dinged again. And again. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for the phone.

Stu hit the home button and brought up the messages.

There were five different texts. But they all said the same thing.

The cops are on the way.

Meet me at Frisky’s.

Adrenaline surged through his veins. Stu’s heart slammed against his ribs as panic clawed at his throat. He rose from bed and went to the window. Peering through a chink where the blinds had broken, he looked outside. A sheriff’s vehicle rolled into the parking lot.

Stu had only a few minutes before the cops would be on his doorstep. He slipped his feet into shoes and shoved his phone into the pocket of his sleep pants. He walked to the living room at the back of his apartment and opened the window. Stu pulled the screen loose and tossed it aside.

Where were the deputies now? Had they pulled into a spot near his building? Were they, even now, walking to his front door?

He leaned over the sill. The dumpster sat beneath his apartment window. The lid was closed. It was a perfect place to land. Swinging his legs over the sill, he looked back at the dumpster. From where he sat, it looked farther down than it had only moments before.

Outside, he heard footsteps on the stairwell.

Drawing in a deep breath, he launched himself into the air. For an instant, Stu’s stomach rose to his chest. His feet slammed onto the dumpster’s lid, sending him forward. He landed on his knees and his hands. Then, he pitched to the side.

The ground came up fast. Asphalt bit into his shoulder and hip.

From his apartment came the sharp rap of knuckles on wood. “Stark County Sheriff. Open up.”

Stu limped to his feet. A chain-link fence separated the back of his apartment complex from the shopping center. Ignoring the raw flesh on his palms and the ache in his knees, he climbed over the fence. Then, he started to run.

It was noon when Cal dropped Aiden off at the Red Grove University Hospital. After spending a fruitless morning searching for Stu Whittier, he knew that he had to see Lucy. She deserved to know that law enforcement had an ID for the man who’d tried to kill her.

He found Rusty Harris’s room and knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Lucy called out.

He pushed the door open. She sat on a recliner next to her grandfather’s bed. Her shoes were off, and her feet were tucked underneath her. She rested a stack of papers on her knee and held a pen.

In the bed, Rusty was propped up on pillows and stared at a muted TV screen.

“Hey,” said Aiden. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Rusty turned off the TV. “I’m always happy to have company.”

Aiden said, “I heard that you’re headed to rehab in a few days.”

“It’ll be better than just laying around here,” said the old man. “I don’t do well with boredom.”

Lucy lifted the stack of papers. “Ted stopped by with the contract. I’m reading it over. So far, he’s been more than generous. I hate to let the ranch go…”