she didn’t take the screaming laying down, either. She’d begun picking up the clothes, hollering back that she had every right to clean her home and deal with her ex-husband’s old clothes.
“Ladies!”
Finn ordered Lotte to stay and moved forward, his focus on keeping the women apart and further separating Hayley from the bag of clothes.
“Miss Patton!” He pushed every ounce of authority into his tone and saw the moment when he finally got through. Hayley’s gaze flicked past his on another dive toward the bag and it was only when she was about to throw a pair of shorts that his presence seemed to register.
Finn took his chance, moving in and taking hold of the shorts to still her movements. “Miss Patton?”
On a gulp of air, she tugged once before seeming to give up on a hard exhale of breath. Her shoulders dropped and her hands fell to her sides before she rushed into his arms. “Chief Colton. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Her arms tightened around his waist and tears immediately wet his button-down shirt as Hayley basically wiped her cheeks over his chest. Hands now full of another man’s shorts, Finn tried a small “come now” as he patted her back. “It’ll be okay.”
Hayley only tightened her hold, the racking sobs growing harder as she shuddered against his body.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Darby said as she marched toward the pile of clothes. In moments she had pieces bunched in her hands and was shoving them into the depleted garbage bag. “This is ridiculous.”
Finn smiled at the muttered voice and had to agree. Hayley Patton had a reputation for making drama wherever she went. If the tableau playing out before his eyes was any indication, she’d brought a steaming-hot serving of drama to Darby Gage’s new home.
“What seems to be the problem, Ms. Gage?” He congratulated himself on changing his salutation at the last moment, suspecting that calling Darby “Mrs. Gage” in front of Hayley would send the woman into another round of fits.
“She seems upset by my desire to give Bo’s clothing to charity.”
“It’s so mean and cold,” Hayley said against his chest before lifting her head, her eyes narrowing. “And why would an innocent person rush to throw away the clothes of a dead man? She planned this.”
Finn’s attention sharpened and he took a firm hold on Hayley’s shoulders, pushing her an arm’s length away. “Excuse me? Do you have relevant information in the death of Bo Gage or Michael Hayden?”
Hayley gulped, as if realizing she’d possibly overstepped. “I’m not talking about Michael Hayden.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“Her!” Hayley pointed to Darby, her expression murderous. “She’s getting rid of Bo’s clothes. What else has she gotten rid of?”
Although he wasn’t ready to rule out anything, the mix of heightened emotions and melodrama wasn’t something he could realistically take at face value.
“Why don’t we move this into the living room and everyone can calm down for a few moments.”
Without waiting for either woman’s agreement, Finn directed Hayley into the living room. He gave Darby a quick nod, as well. “If you’d join us, please.”
Darby reluctantly followed and waited, arms folded, as he settled Hayley on the couch. Lotte and Penny had remained in their places, but he could have sworn there was some silent communication going on between the two animals.
It took several long minutes for him to get to the bottom of the situation. After more rounds of tears, accusations and a moment when he thought things might come to blows, he finally had the details. And every last one of them centered on Hayley Patton resenting the hell out of the fact that her near-husband had left his home and his business to his ex-wife.
What wasn’t quite so easy to gather was why Darby seemed on the verge of saying something, only to clamp her jaws tight each and every time, holding back whatever she’d been tempted to say. It was suspicious. More than that, it smacked of a secret that he couldn’t understand.
Did she know something?
And why did her pretty blue gaze keep skipping around the room, landing at various points before settling on the dog and then racing around the room again?
After another tense fifteen minutes with Hayley persisting in her belief that she had some right to Bo’s belongings, Darby finally gave in.
“Would you just take the clothes already? I want them out of the house. Give them to charity when you’re ready.”
“I’ll never be ready to give up my Bow-tie’s things.”
Darby had remained stoic throughout the mix of sobbing tears and hard-edged rants, but something softened in her eyes when Hayley reached for the bag. Something that smacked quite a bit of compassion for the younger woman and all she’d lost.
On a hard cough, he excused himself from the couch and walked to the large bag that had been at the center of their tussle. “I can carry this out to the car for you, Miss Patton.”
Hayley got off the couch and followed him, her sobs fading away to be replaced with a surprising amount of venom. “You’re cold and heartless, Darby Gage. You stole a dead man’s home and now want to erase all trace of him. Bo was right to leave you.”
Whatever calm Finn had managed to inject into the room vanished at Hayley’s parting shot. The compassion now gone, Darby pointed to where he stood holding the large bag of clothes. Her voice carried the slightest quaver, but her hand was firm and steady.
“Take what you came for and get out of my house.”
Darby walked down the hallway to collect her things from the bathroom. The lingering scent of bleach hit her nose as she cleared the bathroom doorway and, while harsh, it effectively removed the cloying scent of Hayley Patton’s perfume.
What it couldn’t erase quite as easily were the spiteful, hateful words.
Cold and heartless.
She supposed there were worse things to be called, but when tallied on top of a stressful weekend and a bleak future, Darby was close to shattering.
She wasn’t cold. And she was far from heartless. If she were, she’d already have lined up Penny’s next breeding session. Or worse, she’d have put the house and the business up for sale, effectively breaking Bo’s father’s heart.
Gathering up her cleaning supplies, she marched back down the hall, her arms overflowing with scrub brushes, chemicals and the now nearly empty container of bleach dangling from her index finger. It was only when she got to the living room that she realized her tactical mistake. The chief had returned and was even now pacing the living room, his large German shepherd blocking a path to the door.
“You’re still here.”
“I
