Colton's Unusual Suspect


 
 
 
 “I think you’ll be safest if you stay at my place, at least for tonight.”
 “I’m not a stray puppy that you picked up and need to take care of,” she informed him.
 “No,” he agreed calmly. “A stray puppy would undoubtedly be far more grateful.”
 Orla began to argue with the assumption he had just made. But then, right in the middle, she stopped and laughed. “I guess maybe you’re right.” 
 “Does that mean that you’re about to continue giving me an argument about coming home with me?” he asked.
 Orla nodded. “As long as you keep in mind that I am a martial arts instructor and that I know at least several ways to bring you to your knees without even trying.”
 His eyes met hers. Sean looked as if he was struggling to keep a grin off his face. He inclined his head. “I consider myself forewarned.” 
 
 
 Dear Reader,
 You have in your hands what I regard as a minor miracle. Not because it’s so good or the fact that this book is on its way to becoming my next hundredth book (granted I have a ways to go before I reach my four hundredth, having already written over three hundred and twenty books.) No, it’s a big deal as far as I’m concerned because it exists at all.
 When I made plans to write this Colton book, I came down with COVID. Specifically, Long COVID, which blocks out your mind. It was the scariest illness I have ever had the misfortune to come down with. I have been writing stories—books, actually—since I was eleven years old. Suddenly, I was unable to construct an actual sentence. My brain was suddenly so cloudy and, for all intents and purposes, missing in action. I was afraid that I actually couldn’t write anymore. It lasted for several weeks but I am happy to say I am back to being me. I wish you all good health and to never come down with this if you haven’t already.
 I do hope you like this latest effort because you have no idea how wonderful it is to be able to write something when you think you can’t anymore.
 As always, I want to thank you for reading one of my books and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
 All the best,
 Marie Ferrarella
 
 
 COLTON’S UNUSUAL SUSPECT
 Marie Ferrarella
 
 
 
 USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–winning author Marie Ferrarella has written more than three hundred books for Harlequin, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, marieferrarella.com.
 Books by Marie Ferrarella
 Harlequin Romantic Suspense
 The Coltons of New York
 Colton’s Unusual Suspect
 Cavanaugh Justice
 Cavanaugh Vanguard
 Cavanaugh Cowboy
 Cavanaugh’s Missing Person
 Cavanaugh Stakeout
 Cavanaugh in Plain Sight
 Cavanaugh Justice: The Baby Trail
 Cavanaugh Justice: Serial Affair
 Cavanaugh Justice: Deadly Chase
 Cavanaugh Justice: Up Close and Deadly
 Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
 
 
 To
 Jessica
 Who Can Still
 Make
 My Heart
 Smile
 
 
 Contents
 Prologue
 Chapter 1
 Chapter 2
 Chapter 3
 Chapter 4
 Chapter 5
 Chapter 6
 Chapter 7
 Chapter 8
 Chapter 9
 Chapter 10
 Chapter 11
 Chapter 12
 Chapter 13
 Chapter 14
 Chapter 15
 Chapter 16
 Chapter 17
 Chapter 18
 Chapter 19
 Chapter 20
 Chapter 21
 Chapter 22
 Chapter 23
 Excerpt from Protecting Colton’s Baby by Tara Taylor Quinn
 Excerpt from Guarding a Forbidden Love by Carla Cassidy
 
 
 Prologue
 Detective Sean Colton closed his green eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, doing his best to make the throbbing headache go away, or at least recede a little. The words on the page before him, words he had written down himself during the course of the investigation, were beginning to crisscross over one another and dance in front of him like some sort of possessed snake charmer.
 With a sigh, Sean dragged his hand through his dark brown hair. He had put in later hours on occasion, but he felt as if he really should call it a night or, at the very least, take a break. It felt as if he had been at this for hours.
 In reality, he had been at this ever since he had come home—four hours ago—and for a couple of hours before he had even left the precinct.
 He supposed Eileen Reilly, his college fiancée who’d dumped him, was right. He was never going to change. No matter what he promised himself—or the woman he’d asked to marry him, and he had had two of them—somehow or other, the job always managed to come first. That was why the other engagement—to his childhood sweetheart—had fallen through as well.
 Both women had dropped him because he tenaciously managed to push on, working on a case, no matter what he promised himself—or his fiancée of the moment—to the contrary.
 He had been on the current case he was working on—a case he had been working without a partner, ever since Jacoby had changed departments—for a week now and he felt confident that he had narrowed his list of suspects down to one.
 By process of elimination, Sean now believed the person who had to have murdered the beautiful, sweet-faced barmaid who had been the girlfriend of wealthy hedge fund manager Wes Westmore was none other than Westmore himself.
 He felt it deep in his gut.
 The girlfriend, Lana Brinkley, was found strangled in the Greenpoint, Brooklyn, apartment that they had shared. Neighbors had heard Westmore wailing and lamenting when he had walked into the bedroom and had discovered the badly beaten, battered body. People in the building generally kept to themselves, but when the wailing and lamenting didn’t let up, one of the neighbors, or rather several of them, called the police.
 Because he was temporarily between cases, this one landed in his lap.
 He took an instant