The Colton Ransom by Marie Ferrarella Page A

end up, too, didn’t you, Mom?” the young woman asked, taunting her.
    A malevolent look slipped into Darla’s eyes. “That’s enough,” Darla snapped at her daughter. She clearly needed more information in order to figure out which side to successfully play.
    Rather than answer her mother, Tawny merely inclined her head.
    Dislike glowed in Gabby’s eyes. Why did her father insist on keeping this woman with her annoying offspring on the premises? Any promise he’d made to the gold digger was long since nullified by time. Someone needed to do a little housecleaning and get rid of annoyingly insidious people.
    “It was a mistake,” Gabby spoke up, owning her error. “And I’m the one who made it. Because of me, Trevor’s daughter was kidnapped.”
    “I know, I know, but we’ll get her back once the kidnappers realize they got the wrong baby. They just couldn’t be heartless enough to hurt her. In the meantime,” Amanda added, lowering her voice, “you did inadvertently save Cheyenne,” she said with gratitude shining in her eyes. She leaned over and kissed her sister’s cheek.
    Gabby tried valiantly to muster a smile in response, but deep down, all she could think of was that, although she’d inadvertently kept Cheyenne out of harm’s way, by the same token, she had placed Avery in its direct path.
    The one did not blot out or balance the other. There was still an infant out there in serious danger because of her.

Chapter 5
    “W ell, I don’t know about anyone else, but I think I need a drink,” Darla Colton announced to no one in particular as the mounting tension within the room became almost overwhelming. Turning, she began to head toward the liquor cabinet in the living room.
    “You always think you need a drink,” Jethro bit off as he glared at his ex-wife. “Matter of fact, I never knew a time when you didn’t.”
    Darla turned back to look at the man she’d spent one inglorious year with. She tossed her head indignantly. Her artificially vivid strawberry-blond hair swayed about her perfectly made-up face. It was said that she didn’t wear her sins upon her face, so the years appeared to have been kind to her. She was still an attractive woman.
    “I don’t have to stay here and take this abuse,” she snapped at Jethro.
    “No,” Jethro agreed wholeheartedly, his eyes shooting daggers at her, “you don’t. You can just pack up and leave anytime—and that goes for those two leeches of yours.” Since the first day of their divorce, it was what he’d been hoping for. But given she wouldn’t budge, he could make her life as miserable as possible. She almost seemed to enjoy their mutual disdain.
    The expression on the woman’s face grew almost dangerously malicious even though her lips curved in a smile that never reached her eyes. It was the sort of expression that sent icy chills into the heart of the recipient. Most of the time, Jethro was immune.
    “You really wouldn’t want me to do that, Jethro,” she warned “sweetly.” “Because I’ll be leaving one hell of a parting gift in my wake.”
    It was a threat—not the first—and everyone within hearing range took note of it except for the chief. It wasn’t that Drucker hadn’t heard; it was a case of hearing the threat far too often, to the point of being anesthetized to it.
    But whatever it was that Darla was rumored to have to hold over Jethro’s head, that problem existed between Jethro and his ex, and it was none of his concern right now. Faye’s murder and the subsequent kidnapping of the Garth baby was priority number one.
    The chief glanced over toward the head housekeeper. Her gut-wrenching wails had toned down into something like pronounced sobs. His eyes met hers and he waited for a beat, until the sobs subsided as well.
    Drucker inclined his head, indicating that enough was enough.
    Taking in a few deep breaths, and barely covering up the glare she spared the chief, the woman looked toward the stairs. “I’ve