The Truth About Comfort Cove

He went back to work with a smile on his face.

J ack Colton’s handshake was firm. He looked Ramsey straight in the eye and took the seat Ramsey offered. The same one Lonna Baker had occupied the morning before.

“Coffee?” he asked, standing by the pot on the counter. “Yes, thank you.” Colton’s tone was respectful. “Cream or sugar?”

“Black.”

Ramsey poured himself a cup, as well. Black and strong. He

took his time before he sat across from the man and officially started the interview. He needed the time. He couldn’t get a read on Jack Colton. Either the guy was as honest and good as he seemed or he was the best actor Ramsey had ever met.

The best criminal. He’d never met one without a chink of some kind.

“Thank you for coming in.” With nothing left to do, he sat.

“If I can be of any assistance… I feel horrible about that man, Frank Whittier. I can’t sleep for thinking about the twenty-five years he’s lost. Those years are on my shoulders. If I’d known…”

Colton’s gaze was direct; the moisture in his eyes real.

There were no other suspects. And little girls did not just evaporate into thin air.

Something happened to Claire Sanderson.

And there wasn’t a single person involved who was not cooperating completely. Everyone seemed to sincerely want to help. To know what happened.

Someone had to be lying.

His money was on Jack.

“I’ve had a look at your bank records.”

“You what? How? Why?” Jack’s brow furrowed.

“I got a warrant.”

Ramsey watched every nuance of the other man’s countenance, finding his way in.

“You got a warrant.” Confusion gave way to resignation in the older man’s expression. “Well, I hope you’re satisfied with your findings,” Jack Colton continued in a voice bearing not the least bit of fear. “I would have turned everything over to you if you’d have asked. I have nothing to hide.”

Ramsey wished he had proof to argue that point.

And that was why Colton was there. To give Ramsey his proof.

“I had a visit with your former employer yesterday. Randall Davenport.”

“His father was my employer.”

“He passed away. Randall runs the business now.”

“I suspect it’s doing well, then. Randy was a bit squirrelly, with little sense of humor, always one step above the rest of us, but he was also honest and organized as hell. Even more so than his father.”

Thinking of the binders lining the walls of Davenport’s office, the orderly files in the basement, Ramsey had to acknowledge that Jack Colton was good at reading people.

So he could be good at working them.

Like he was trying to work Ramsey?

“You’re right about one thing,” he said now, opening his binder. “Davenport keeps meticulous records.” He pulled out the delivery time sheet from the day Claire Sanderson went missing and slid it in front of Jack. “This shows an unscheduled gas stop that just happens to coincide with the time frame of Claire Sanderson’s disappearance.”