job in one of the smaller communities.
The front door opened, hinges squeaking. Though Sam had always kept them oiled with WD-40, Cord had stopped after Sam died. He actually liked the sound. He figured it let him know when someone entered or left the office.
A well-dressed man stepped inside. His business suit looked custom-made and expensive, just like the ostrich skin cowboy boots he wore on his feet.
“Cord Maxwell?” the man asked, glancing around the sparsely furnished room. “I’m—”
“I know who you are.” Cord got to his feet, taking one more swing of his Coke before placing it on his desk. “Fowler Colton, CEO of Colton Incorporated and Eldridge Colton’s oldest son.”
Fowler nodded, no doubt accustomed to being recognized. He took another step closer, his carefully blank expression revealing both nothing and too much. “I’d like to hire your services.”
Surprised, especially since someone with Fowler’s money could hire a top-notch firm from a bigger city like Dallas or Fort Worth, Cord waited to hear the rest. It’d probably be the kind of job no one else would want to do.
Fowler cleared his throat. “Before I tell you what—who—I need you to find, I’ll require your promise to keep this confidential.”
“That goes without saying.” Crossing his arms, Cord realized the other man didn’t remember him at all, despite the years he spent on the ranch when his father had been a ranch hand. Of course not, since even when he’d been younger, Fowler had always given the impression that he paid no attention to those he considered beneath him. And poor children of ranch hands, such as Cord, definitely fell into that category.
“I need you to find Piper.” For the first time since he’d shown up, raw emotion flashed across Fowler’s aristocratic features. Guilt, Cord realized, as his gut twisted. What the hell did Fowler have to feel guilty about?
And then Fowler’s words hit him. Find Piper?
“I heard she was arrested in connection with Eldridge’s murder.” Cord kept his tone casual, even though the instant he’d heard the news he’d known something was horribly wrong. The Piper he’d known as a kid wouldn’t even hurt a fly. No way he believed she could have actually killed another human being, especially not her adoptive father. He couldn’t think she would have changed so drastically, even though it had been years since he’d seen her.
“Yes. She had to spend the night in the county jail. Some of our siblings got together and posted bail and brought her home.”
So far so good. Even though he’d said “some of our siblings,” which meant Fowler himself hadn’t been involved. Though he wondered why, Cord couldn’t really say he was surprised. Fowler had never been big on family loyalty. Hell, as far as Cord could tell, the other man didn’t have a single loyal bone in his body.
“Marceline and I were pretty rough on her,” Fowler continued, his thin lips twisting. “We sort of barraged her.”
“About what?”
Now Fowler wouldn’t meet Cord’s gaze. “We told her we were convinced she’s guilty.”
Now this was getting interesting. “Are you?”
“Convinced she’s guilty?” Fowler lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, she could be. But then again, Eldridge didn’t have a lot of friends.”
Like father, like son.
“I feel horrible,” Fowler continued, though the lack of inflection in his tone made Cord question whether he meant it. “Marceline can be brutal when she fixates on something. She showed no mercy. Piper appeared pretty upset. She usually looks on the bright side of everything, but not this time. I think we’re the reason she ran.”
Ran? “What?” Cord couldn’t contain his shock. “Are you telling me Piper jumped bail?” Which meant her siblings would be out serious money if she didn’t show up in court.
Fowler nodded, grimacing. “Yes. No one’s seen hide nor hair of her since she got home from jail.”
“Since she got out of jail.” While Cord hated parroting back what the other man said, he simply could not take all this in. He never would have believed Piper Colton, rich, all-American girl next door, would in a million years do something like this.
Except she had. At least, according to Fowler.
“Okay.” Wary now, Cord dragged his hand through his hair. “Why are you here, Fowler? If you’re asking me to find Piper—”
“I am. You are a fugitive recovery agent, aren’t you? I’ve done my research. Not only are you highly respected in the criminal court community, but your success rate is 89 percent. And I’m willing to pay well.”
Of course he was. Since it just so happened that Cord really needed the money. “Our standard fees are—”
Again Fowler cut him off. “That doesn’t matter. I’m willing to give you double what you usually charge.”
“How much was her bail?”
Fowler recoiled, peering at Cord down the length of his impressive nose. “I fail to see how that concerns you.”
“Seriously?” Somehow, Cord kept from snorting. “If you did your research as you claim, you’d know my fee is 10 percent of the bail.”
“Her bail was set at fifty thousand.”
“Which means you’ll pay me five thousand. Up front.”
“No.” Fowler shook his head. “Like I said, I’m willing to double that.”
Though Cord knew he should keep his mouth shut, he didn’t. Fowler wasn’t the type to throw away money. “Why?”
“This is a delicate matter. Piper may be a fugitive and I don’t really know if she’s guilty or innocent, but she’s a Colton. No matter what. This matter must be kept quiet.” Fowler cleared his throat and lifted his chin.
Suddenly, even though he had past-due bills to pay, Cord didn’t want to get involved. When he’d been a kid on the ranch, Piper had always been kind to him, even though he’d grown up shabby. “Look,” he told the other man. “My niece is missing. She ran away a few weeks ago, right after she turned eighteen. I’m sorry, but my first priority is finding her. I don’t have time to hunt down Piper.”
“I’ll offer you triple.”
Fifteen thousand dollars. Nothing to sneeze at, but since most of the fugitives Cord searched for had bails set at one hundred thousand, he regularly made ten grand a case. This still wasn’t enough to divert Cord’s attention from locating Renee. He wasn’t sure any amount would be enough.
After all, it was his fault she’d taken off. He’d done a piss-poor job of looking after her when she’d come to live with him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Cord began.
“Fine.” The snap in Fowler’s cultured voice warred with the grudging respect in his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain. Thirty thousand dollars.
