Читать книгу Secrets of the Lynx - Aimee Thurlo - Страница 12

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Chapter Two

Kendra drove at a slow and steady pace to avoid losing traction in the sandy ground. Amazingly enough, there were no more mishaps. Although she repeatedly scraped the wheel wells against the brush, a sound like fingernails being raked across a chalkboard, the rest of the drive was uneventful.

Within a minute or two she saw the rectangular stucco frame house nestled against the wall of the canyon. Moonlight shimmered off its metal roof—a touch of civilization in an area that appeared to be largely untouched by man.

“It looks kind of lonely out here,” she said quietly.

“You’re a city girl, I take it?” Paul asked. Seeing her nod, he continued. “Life moves at a different pace in this canyon, but there’s plenty of company. Big cats hunt here, and bears include the canyon in their territory, too, along with coyotes. Then there are all the smaller creatures. Copper Canyon is teeming with life.”

“But no humans beside us, right?” she asked.

“There are several Navajo families within a dozen miles of here, but they’re all pretty scattered. What makes this place an ideal safe house is that there’s only one way to approach it, and the canyon itself transmits sound like a tunnel.”

Kendra pulled up beside the house and parked next to a big blue Dodge pickup.

“You two should probably go inside. We’ll bring in some firewood,” Daniel said, signaling Preston and gesturing to a cord of wood stacked beneath the roof overhang.

Paul led the way to the front door and invited her in. “Make yourself at home.”

As she entered the living room/kitchen combination, she glanced around. The interior had a casual, rustic, Southwest elegance.

To her left along the far wall were kitchen appliances and a wide counter. A half dozen feet away from there stood a dining table and some straight-backed chairs that were handcrafted from knotty pine.

Farther in, near the center of the large open space, was a sofa covered in heavy, rich brown leather. The pine frame, with its decorative grooves and diamond-shaped patterns, matched the design on the table and chairs.

Beautiful red, black, and indigo Navajo rugs were hung on the walls facing the big stone and iron fireplace. A smaller one woven in red, black and white was draped over the back of the couch.

“I like this place,” she said. “It feels...welcoming.”

Paul smiled. “Over the years I’ve heard it described in many ways. Each person sees something different, but the consensus is always the same. Our foster father’s home agrees with people and sets them at ease.”

“I love the pattern on that Navajo rug draped over the couch,” she said.

“That’s an antique blanket our foster father was given in payment for a ritual he performed for one of his patients. Almost everything woven prior to 1890 is a blanket. Navajos had little use for floor coverings since keeping warm was their priority. Then trading post owners started encouraging The People to weave rugs instead. Those were thicker and more appealing to the tourist trade.” He went over to the couch. “Touch the blanket. It’s soft and very warm.”

She ran her fingertips over the woven fabric. “It feels wonderful, and so beautiful, too.”

As Daniel and Preston came back in with armloads of firewood, talk naturally shifted back to business.

“I’ve read through your files, Paul,” Kendra said. “From the reports I saw, you were on protection duty, fully prepared. Things went south for you and your partner after you reached the DC courthouse’s steps.”

He nodded. “I’d checked the whereabouts of the judge’s known enemies, including the ex-soldier Chris Miller, the Hawthorn cartel’s wet-work specialist. Our intel said he was hiding out in Mexico, well out of reach. That turned out to be wrong. Later, video surveillance cameras across the street from the shooting revealed he’d been on the scene.”

She nodded slowly. “Our problem’s been that Miller’s a master at changing his appearance,” Kendra said, glancing at Daniel and Preston who were stacking wood. “Following an auto injury that took place just after he left the military, he had substantial facial reconstruction. The only subsequent photo we have of him is a very low-quality one taken from that video. It was actually thanks to a partial fingerprint lifted from a parking meter, combined with facial recognition software, that we were able to confirm his ID at all.”

“That faulty intel cost my partner her life,” Paul said. “What’s worse, Miller’s still in the wind.”

She could feel the pain vibrating through his words. Though it hadn’t been in his file, she’d interviewed other marshals before coming here and been told that Judy and Paul had been very close. Some had speculated that the two had become lovers.

As her gaze drifted over the man before her, she could understand the temptation he might have posed to his late partner. There was something about Paul, an intangible that went beyond those long legs, narrow waist and a chest any woman would be tempted to nestle into.

Yet all things considered, what drew her most was the mercurial quality reflected in his gaze. Those dark eyes could sparkle with intent, determination, or even gentleness, in a flash.

Paul Grayhorse intrigued her, but this wasn’t the time for distractions. She looked away immediately, refocusing on her mission.

Having replenished the fire, Preston patted his brother on the back. “Police work is always filled with the unexpected, bro. What we do only comes with one guarantee—a lousy paycheck.”

“We all go into this kind of work knowing the risks,” Daniel, a security consultant, said, “but at least we don’t die by inches, chained to a desk.”

Paul crossed the room, stopped at the coffeepot on top of the stove, and poured himself a cup. “That’s exactly why I had to expand my business to include actual cases. Sitting in front of surveillance monitors all day was driving me nuts.”

“No one’s arguing that, but you should have waited until you had full mobility in your arm again.” Preston checked the handgun at his waist, then zipped up his jacket and brought out a set of keys from his pocket.

“You leaving?” Paul asked.

“Yeah. I want to find Yolanda Sharpe, then run tonight’s events past my informants. I also want to know if any new talent, Chris Miller in particular, has shown up in the area recently.”

“That’s why I won’t be staying here long either,” Paul said. “If someone’s gunning for me, I won’t be hard to find. Next time, I’ll be waiting.”

“I can’t stop you, but that’s a bad idea, Paul. You’re too close to this,” Kendra said. “I’m here to bring Miller in, so we both want the same thing. Give me a chance to work this case first.”

“Are you officially taking over the investigation?” Preston asked her.

“Not yet,” Kendra said. “Until we figure out who we’re dealing with I’ll be working closely with your department, but it’s still your case.”

Daniel grabbed his jacket next, then nodded toward a rifle case barely visible beneath the sofa. “I’m leaving you my AR-15, with three full magazines. It’s got a thermal imaging kit you won’t believe. Just take care of it. I’ve got to hit the road, too. I’m conducting a training op at New Horizon Energy, the tribe’s secure facility. Lots of VIPs coming in to observe.”

Kendra waited for the two men to leave, then spoke. “Now that it’s just the two of us, brief me on what went down earlier this evening.”

“You must have seen my report,” he said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. He removed his pistol and holster, leaving them within reach.

“Of course, but I want to hear it directly from you, Paul, particularly anything you may have remembered since then.” She scooted her chair back, then took off her dark blue cardigan. As she did, sparks of static electricity lit the air. Her shoulder-length auburn hair stood out, twirling erratically, some strands tickling her nose. She brushed her hair back with a hand, trying to tame it into place.

As he recounted the events, Kendra jotted down the new details in a small spiral notebook, noting how sharp his instincts were.

Kendra tried hard to focus exclusively on Paul, but one strand of hair kept evading her and tickling her nose. She jutted out her bottom lip and blew hard, trying to force it away.

“Why did you stick around once you realized that something was off?” she asked, wanting to know more about the way he thought things through out in the field.

“I couldn’t be sure that she was setting me up, and I didn’t want to bail on someone who needed my help.”

Kendra watched Paul as he spoke. She couldn’t help but notice how calm he was. It was normal for people to shift and move around when they were being questioned, not necessarily a sign that anything was wrong, but Paul remained perfectly still.

The rigid control he held over himself reminded her of her father, the colonel. Never show anyone what you’re thinking—that had practically been the colonel’s mantra. She and her brother had learned that lesson well.

When he finished his account, Paul waited as she walked to one side of the window and studied the area outside. “You don’t have to keep checking,” he said as she returned to the table. “We’re safe here. If you’re unsure, all you have to do is listen.”

Kendra did. After half a minute, she heard the cry of a coyote baying at the moon.

“Coyote wouldn’t be indulging its instincts to call to the night if intruders were in the canyon,” he said.

“I never heard him at all until right now.”

“No problem. I did.”

She got the message. They were on his turf, and here, Paul held the advantage. “Strategically, Copper Canyon is a great place for you, but not for me. I came to do a job, and the sooner I find what I need, the better it’ll be for everyone.”

“Do you have a specific plan in mind?” Paul said.

“First, I need to find out if Miller’s really here, and if he’s the one who came after you today. I could really use your help with that part of it—but only if you can follow my lead and stay on target. I won’t allow my work to be compromised by someone planning to cowboy up.”

“I can handle it.” He unplugged the coffeepot, then leaned back against the counter and faced her.

“Okay, then. After I grab a few hours’ sleep we’ll drive back to Hartley. I have to find a way to get the cooperation of the local businesses so I can gather up any of the local surveillance camera video within range of the shooting incident. If we have to resort to warrants, that’ll cost us time. I’ll also have to coordinate my efforts with your brother and the Hartley P.D. so we don’t end up tripping over each other.”

“You’re hoping one of those cameras will reveal Miller was the shooter or, at the very least, in the area?” Seeing her nod, he continued. “I can help you get what you need. My company specializes in electronic surveillance, and some of those businesses are clients of mine. The others, well, chances are they’ve heard of me and my agency.”

The logs in the fireplace were burning down, and feeling cold, she jammed her hands into her slacks. “What concerns me is that your right shoulder is still giving you problems. You sure you’re ready to be out in the field?”

His eyes darkened ominously, and she had to force herself to hold her ground.

“Muscle damage restricts my mobility somewhat, that’s true, but investigations are mostly legwork.” He paused. “If what’s really worrying you is that I’ll forget I’m not the one carrying the badge, you’re wasting your energy. I want answers and a resolution to my partner’s murder. I don’t care who gets the credit.”

“Tell me this. Are you looking for revenge, or justice?”

He paused for several moments before replying. “There was a time when there was nothing I wanted more than revenge, but I’ve moved past that. What I need now is to see the case closed and whoever killed Judy behind bars.”

Though he remained calm, Kendra heard the undercurrent of emotions in his words. He was a man on a mission, and she didn’t blame him. Yet the question foremost in her mind remained. Paul was on the hunt for a man who’d killed someone dear to him. Would he be an asset to the investigation or a liability?

“You can accept my help or not, Kendra, that’s up to you. But I’m leaving here early tomorrow and I’m investigating the case.”

“You can’t go home, Paul, not yet. Think about it. If the gunman is still after you, that’s the first place he’ll look.”

“I don’t plan on sitting around. I’ll be on the move, digging for answers.”

She narrowed her gaze. “So, what you’re telling me is that I either accept your help or you’ll go solo and probably get in my way.”

“I won’t give you reason to charge me with obstruction, but unless it’s hard evidence, I’ll be keeping whatever I learn to myself.” He straddled one of the chairs and regarded her patiently. “It’s your call. I’ve got some great sources in town who’ll help me if I ask, but they won’t give you, an outsider and a stranger, the time of day without a warrant. If you want answers quickly, I’m your best bet.”

There was something infinitely masculine about the way he was sitting, his steady gaze on her. Paul was all testosterone wrapped in a nice tight package of muscles, courage and pride.

“You’re trying to push me into a corner,” she said.

“Nah. If I were, we’d both enjoy it more,” he said, giving her the most amazing lopsided grin.

She glared at him, a look she’d learned from her dad, the colonel, but Paul never even flinched. He calmly gazed back, challenging her with his easy smile and iron will.

This was getting her nowhere, and the fact was, he held all the cards right now. “All right, we’ll work together, but I’m wearing the badge, so follow my lead.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said, standing.

He’d agreed a little too quickly for her tastes, but she’d take it as a win. “I’m good at what I do, Paul. You’ll find that out soon enough. If Miller’s here, I’ll take him down.” Once again she blew the annoying strand away from her face.

He strode up to her, stopping so close she could feel the warmth of his body. A shiver touched her spine, but refusing to step away, she threw her shoulders back and met his gaze.

Paul smiled, brushing his hand over the side of her face and pushing away the strand of hair. “There you go. I saw you crinkling your nose and trying to blow it away. I thought I’d help.”

He towered over her. Awareness, the raw and totally inappropriate kind, made her heart begin to race. “Static electricity. No humidity here in the desert.” She stepped around him quickly. She’d glom it down with a half can of hair spray if necessary from now on.

“All right then,” she said. “We leave in the morning. You lead the way out so I won’t get stuck again.”

“Why did you rent a sedan? That wasn’t a very practical choice for the Four Corners.”

“No kidding. I flew into the Hartley airport planning to rent something with four-wheel drive, but the agency had most of their vehicles on reserve for an event over at the power plant.”

He nodded. “Daniel’s training exercise. They put on a show for politicians and investors.”

She walked around the big room, putting more distance between them and pretending to admire the decor. Paul was a living, breathing temptation. It had been a long time since she’d met a man who could make her pulse start racing just by stepping close to her.

“As long as the sniper is out there, one of us should stay awake and keep watch. We need a schedule,” she said.

“We are safe,” he repeated with his usual calm. “But, okay, what do you have in mind?”

“How about four-hour rotating shifts?” she said.

“Fine. I’ll take the first watch,” he said. “I’ll need to be a lot more tired before I can doze off anyway.”

As he reached down to adjust a log on the fire, she saw him rub his shoulder. “Do you need painkillers?” she asked, wishing she’d considered that possibility earlier. If his senses were occasionally lulled by medicine of any kind...

“My shoulder aches a bit from time to time, but I don’t take anything for it. There’s no need,” he said. “The reason I wouldn’t be able to sleep right now is because I’m not tired enough. I’ve never required the same amount of rest most people do—a plus in my former and current professions.”

“If I don’t get enough sleep, my brain doesn’t work right, and at the moment, I’m exhausted,” she said. “It’s almost three a.m. now, so let me sleep till seven. Then you can wake me and get some sleep yourself while I get in touch with your brother and see what he or his people have found out. Once you’re up we’ll drive in to Hartley.”

“Preston will have something for you by morning, count on it. When he’s working a case, he sleeps even less than I do.”

“One more thing,” she said. “If you need to go outside for any reason, be sure to tell me. I tend to go on the offensive if an unexpected noise wakes me up.”

“You’re always on alert?”

“Yeah. When I’m running down a fugitive or I’m on a protection detail, a part of my brain is always on duty.”

“Good instincts. They’ll keep you in one piece.”

As he glanced away to turn off a lamp, she unhooked her holster. Leaving her weapon inside, she placed it on the coffee table within grasp.

“Use the blanket,” he said, taking the closest chair. “It’s comfortable and warm.”

She pulled it over her. Wrapped in a comfortable cocoon of warmth, Kendra closed her eyes. Without visual cues, she became aware of Paul in a more primal way. She could hear the even sound of his breathing and enjoyed the outdoorsy scent that clung to him.

Though he was quiet, she heard him get up to stoke the fire. The crackling of the logs and the comfort of the blanket worked a magic all their own and soon she drifted off to sleep.

Paul smiled, his gaze resting on Kendra. Although he knew no one was out there, he remained seated on the easy chair closest to a window. Taking off the lynx fetish he wore around his neck, he held it in his palm and gazed at it for a moment. Like all of Hosteen Silver’s gifts, the hand-carved wooden artifact was far more complicated than it appeared to be at a glance.

Lynx was said to be able to peer into the soul of man or beast and see the secrets hidden there. As the owner of the fetish, he knew that gift was his to use, but for many years he’d refused to accept such things were possible.

Slowly, as his mind had opened to new possibilities, he’d discovered that he could always sense when someone was lying to him, or even holding back. In time, he’d stopped searching for logical explanations and grew to accept his newfound ability.

The gift had served him well during his days as a U.S. Marshal and continued to do so now, even though he no longer wore the badge. He leaned back and relaxed, confident that the terrain around the house held no secrets from him or Lynx.

Hearing the rhythmic sound of Kendra’s breathing, he focused on the woman. The blanket had slipped to her waist, and her simple wool sweater, though loose, accentuated her full breasts. Like many women in the marshals service, she did her best to underplay her curves, but thankfully, some things were impossible to hide.

Kendra was an irresistible blend of toughness and gentleness. She was clearly a fighter who’d refused to back down, even when staring down three gun barrels. Yet, in this unguarded moment, she was the most feminine of women.

He’d known all types of females and enjoyed their company, but he’d always had one rule. He never stayed with any particular woman for long. Some had accused him of deliberately keeping his heart out of reach, and there was some truth to that. He didn’t trust relationships. Promises made in the night didn’t last when exposed to the light of day.

He’d only had one relationship that had stood the test of time, the one with his former partner, Judy Whitacre. The reason was plain. Though they’d cared deeply for each other, the job had always come first to both of them. They’d worked together for three years, and although gossip within the ranks had suggested otherwise, they’d never acted on their feelings. They’d both known that crossing that line would have jeopardized their working partnership.

Paul heard the faint rustling of something moving through the brush outside. Although that type of sound usually indicated the presence of an animal, he’d have to check it out. Seeing Kendra was still sound asleep, he slipped noiselessly out the back door.

Secrets of the Lynx

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