Читать книгу Colorado Bodyguard - Cindi Myers - Страница 8

Chapter One

The canyon tore a deep gash in the open landscape. Sheer rock walls plunged to a river that was invisible below, lost in blackness. Darker red and gray rock painted the chasm walls in fanciful shapes that resembled two warring Chinese dragons, engaged in a battle that had been going on for centuries.

Sophie Montgomery stood at the edge of the overlook, fighting waves of vertigo as she tried to peer down into the canyon’s depths. She struggled to imagine her sister, Lauren, standing in this same, desolate spot. Lauren had battled plenty of demons in her life; which one had brought her to this lonely, forbidding place?

Lauren, where are you? Sophie sent the silent plea across the canyon, but only wind and the distant hum of traffic answered.

She shivered again, despite the summer heat, and turned away from the overlook and headed back to her car, walking past an RV and a mom and two children posing in front of the canyon while Dad snapped the picture. They all looked thrilled to be here, though Sophie had never understood the attraction of a camping vacation. She and Lauren had always agreed that getaways should involve nice hotels, preferably with swimming pools and room service. One more reason it didn’t make sense that Lauren had come to what must be one of the most remote spots in her adopted home state.

Sophie slid back behind the wheel of her rental car and jammed the key into the ignition. She didn’t want to be here, but then, she hadn’t especially wanted to be any of the other places that looking out for Lauren had taken her over the years. The only difference was that this time felt scarier. More hopeless. Lauren had done some crazy, wild things over the years, but she’d never stayed gone this long before. And she’d never been in a place where Sophie couldn’t reach her. Sometimes, when Lauren was going through a really bad spell, Sophie was the only one who could reach her.

She backed out of her parking space and turned the car around, headed toward the park entrance. The police in Denver had been kind—sympathetic, even. But they had found no evidence that Lauren had been abducted, and given her recent history, they suspected she’d run away—or worse. “We understand your sister struggled with depression,” the detective who had spoken to her said.

“She was handling it,” Sophie had told him. “She was under a doctor’s care.”

His look was full of sympathy and little hope.

She checked the time on her phone. Five minutes until her appointment with a member of the special task force assigned to deal with crimes in the area. This time, she’d be more assertive. She would make the officer understand that Lauren wouldn’t have run away. And she wouldn’t have taken her own life. She was in trouble and they had to help.

Lauren had no one else to speak for her; it was up to Sophie to look after her little sister, just as she’d always done.

She turned the car into the gravel lot in front of the portable building that served as headquarters for The Ranger Brigade—the interagency task force focused on fighting crime on public lands in western Colorado. A hot wind blasted her as she exited the car, whipping her shoulder-length brown hair into her eyes and sending a tumbleweed bobbing across her path. She stared at the beach-ball-sized sphere of dried weeds as it bounced across the pavement and into the brush across the road. The whole scene was like something out of a Wild West movie, as foreign from her life back in Madison, Wisconsin, as she could imagine.

As she made her way up a gravel walkway toward the building, a large dog—blond with a black muzzle and tail, like a German shepherd, but smaller—loped from around the side of the building. Sophie froze, heart pounding, struggling to breathe. The dog kept running toward her, tongue lolling, teeth glinting in the bright sun. She closed her eyes, fighting wave after wave of paralyzing fear.

“Lotte! Down!”

Sophie opened her eyes to see the dog immediately stop and lie down. A young man trotted around the side of the building. Tall and muscular, with closely cropped brown hair, he wore tan trousers and a tan long-sleeved shirt. “Don’t worry, she’s harmless,” he called.

Sophie shifted her attention back to the dog, reminding herself to breathe. The dog grinned up at her, tongue hanging out. To most people she probably did look harmless. But Sophie wasn’t most people.

“Can I help you?” the man asked as he drew closer. Green eyes studied her, fine lines fanning from the corners, though she had a sense that he wasn’t much older than her own thirty. The buffeting wind and too-bright sun didn’t seem to bother him. In fact, he looked right at home against the backdrop of cactus and stunted pinion. He could have been an old-west lawman, with a silver star pinned to his chest, or a cowboy, ready to ride the range—any of those strong, romantic archetypes with the power to make a woman swoon.

Except she hadn’t come here to ogle the local stud lawman, she reminded herself. Even if guys like him paid any attention to quiet bookworms like her. “I’m Sophie Montgomery. I have an appointment with the Rangers,” she said.

“Right. Officer Rand Knightbridge.” He offered his hand. “Come on in and we’ll get started.”

She took his hand, but released it quickly, focused on the dog who sat quietly at his side. It was a powerful animal, its eyes alert, as if at any moment it might lunge. “I’m afraid of dogs,” she said, and took a step back.

He stopped and looked from her to the dog. “Lotte is very well trained,” he said. “She won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“I didn’t say it was a rational fear, I said I was afraid.” Why did people always want to argue with her about this? No one ever tried to understand.

“Sure. I’ll put her inside, in another room.”

“All right. I’ll wait out here.”

He glanced at her again, then turned and snapped his fingers. “Lotte! Come!”

The dog fell into step beside him, gazing up at him adoringly.

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to feel self-conscious. The windows on the Rangers’ headquarters were covered by blinds, but she had a feeling she was being watched. She fought the urge to stick her tongue out at whoever was looking, but that compulsion died when she reminded herself why she was here. She needed for these people to take her concerns seriously.

After a moment, during which she gave up trying to keep the wind from whipping her hair into her eyes, the front door to the trailer opened and Officer Knightbridge waved to her. “The coast is clear,” he said. “It’s safe to come in.”

She made her way up the walkway and through the door he held open for her. The office itself was Spartan and utilitarian, with industrial carpet and simple furnishings. “Let’s use the conference room, back here,” Knightbridge said, leading her to another open doorway.

A woman at a computer looked up and smiled at her as they passed and two other uniformed officers glanced her way but didn’t acknowledge her. In the conference room, Officer Knightbridge pulled out a folding chair at the scarred table, then took a similar chair across from her. “How can I help you, Ms. Montgomery?” he asked.

“My sister, Lauren Starling, has been missing since May twenty-eighth. That’s when she left for a week’s vacation, but no one’s seen or heard from her since. The Denver Police Department suggested I contact you to see how the investigation into her disappearance is progressing.”

There was a flicker of confusion in his green eyes. He shifted in his seat. “The Denver Police Department told you we were investigating your sister’s disappearance.”

“I understand her car was found abandoned very near here.”

“Yes, I believe it was.”

“And your organization deals with crime in the park?”

“The park and surrounding public lands.”

“So, naturally, I assumed you’re investigating my sister’s disappearance.”

As she’d talked, the lines on his forehead had deepened. The metal folding chair squeaked as he shifted position again. “Ms. Montgomery...”

“Please, call me Sophie.” She wanted him to trust her, to confide in her, even.

“Ms. Montgomery, a car registered to your sister was found at the Dragon Point overlook in the park. There were no signs of violence, no notes and nothing else that pointed to violence. Park rangers conducted a search for your sister and found nothing. They had the car towed to an impound lot and contacted Denver police, and they also notified us to be on the lookout for her.”

“I know all that,” she said, trying to quell her impatience. “That’s why I’m here. I want to know what you’ve discovered since then.”

His expression grew even more pained. “After you called, I reviewed what little information we have. No one has seen or heard from your sister. The Denver police led us to believe your sister had come here of her own free will.”

“She may have come here voluntarily, but she didn’t just walk away from her car, her home, her job, her friends and her family.” Sophie fought to keep the agitation from her voice. “Something has happened to her.”

“The report I read said that your sister has a history of depression.”

Here it was, the excuse they all gave for not taking Lauren’s disappearance more seriously. “She’s recently been diagnosed with bipolar disorder—what people used to call manic depression. She was in treatment, on medication and doing well.”

“The report we received said she was recently divorced.”

“Yes.” Lauren had adored Phil; she’d been crushed when he announced he’d fallen in love with a woman he worked with. She’d had to cope not only with the end of her marriage, but also with the humiliation of his very public infidelity. But she was rallying. “My sister is much stronger than people give her credit for,” Sophie said. “I talked to her only two days before she disappeared and she was very upbeat, excited about a new project at work.”

“The police report also said she’d been put on probation at the TV station—that she was in danger of losing her job.”

“She told me she wasn’t worried about that—that this new project would prove how valuable she was.”

This seemed to spark some interest in him. “Did she say what the project was?”

“No. She didn’t like to talk about things like that until after they were complete. She was superstitious that way.”

The frown returned. “Ms. Montgomery...Sophie.” He leaned toward her, elbows on the table, hands loosely clasped. “Do you know the number one reason automobiles are abandoned within the park?”

“No.” But clearly he was going to tell her. And the expression in his eyes told her she wouldn’t like what she heard.

“For whatever reason, national parks are popular places for people to take their own lives. The canyon seems to offer what some perceive as an easy way out. If they don’t drive right off the cliff, they park the car and jump. When a Ranger sees a car parked in the same place for days, he knows he may be looking at a possible suicide. And when the missing person is known to have been depressed...” He spread his hands wide, allowing her to fill in the rest of the thought.

But she refused to go there. “So you’re telling me you haven’t even investigated my sister’s disappearance? She’s been missing a month and no one is looking for her?”

“You need to prepare yourself.” He sat back in his chair, his face calm, eyes still locked to hers. “There’s a good chance your sister is no longer alive.”

* * *

RAND HAD PUT his assessment of her sister’s situation as delicately as he knew how, but he could see by the pain and anger in Sophie Montgomery’s brown eyes that he’d been too blunt. Despite all the evidence pointing to this conclusion, she didn’t believe her sister had committed suicide. Without a body she’d never believe, and unfortunately, the vastness and remoteness of the parklands made finding a body difficult—sometimes impossible. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I had better news for you.”

And he wished he had more time for her. So much of his job involved dealing with the dregs of society—drug dealers and killers and people who preyed on the innocent. It was nice to sit with a pretty woman who dressed well and had a soft voice and manicured hands, and just talk.

If only their topic of conversation had been more pleasant. And if only he had more time to listen to her soft, educated voice. But everyone on the task force was under pressure to root out the criminals who’d turned a sleepy corner of Colorado into a center for drug dealing, human trafficking and all manner of violent crime. They’d made some arrests and succeeded in slowing the flow of drugs and illegal aliens, but they’d yet to find the person or persons overseeing the whole operation. They were certain someone was in charge, and had ideas about who that might be, but still lacked the evidence they needed.

Meanwhile, perpetual thorn in their side Richard Prentice, a billionaire who’d made a name for himself causing trouble for local, state and federal authorities, continued to harangue about the need to disband the task force altogether. He filed lawsuits claiming the officers harassed him, held press conferences to point out how much taxpayers spent to fund the Rangers and how little they received in return. And all the while, he sat in his mansion on private land adjacent to the park, protected by his money and a team of lawyers. As far as Rand was concerned, Richard Prentice was suspect number one when it came to crime in the area, but as his boss, Captain Graham Ellison, so often reminded him, being a jerk didn’t make a man guilty.

And being a jerk wasn’t winning Rand any points with Sophie Montgomery. “My sister did not commit suicide,” she said. “I don’t care how many times you or the police in Denver or anyone else tell me so. I know her better than anyone, and she wouldn’t have done that.” She opened her purse and took out a small spiral notebook. “I came here today to convince you that Lauren is worth looking for. The least you can do is hear me out.”

Her eyes, full of so much determination...and not a little fear, met his. In that moment, he saw all it had taken for her to come here, knowing that pursuing her quest might only lead to the end of all hope for her sister. Her courage moved him, and fueled his growing attraction to this quiet, determined woman. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll be happy to listen to what you have to say. Would you mind if I brought in my commander and some other officers, as well?”

“No, not at all.” Her lower lip trembled, but she quickly brought it under control. “Thank you.”

He resisted the urge to cover her hand with his own; she might take his gesture of comfort the wrong way. He left the conference room, shutting the door behind him, and found Graham in his office. “Lauren Starling’s sister is here,” he said. “She doesn’t think Lauren ran away or killed herself. She thinks she might be in real trouble.”

Graham, a big man with the imposing demeanor of the US Marine he had once been, looked up from a stack of files. “Does she have any information that would help us find her sister?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I thought we should hear her out.”

“All right. Who else is here?”

“Carmen and Simon were in the computer room a little while ago. And Marco is around somewhere.”

“Then round them up and ask them to report to the conference room. Maybe one of us will spot something in the sister’s story that will help.”

Ten minutes later, they all converged on the conference room. Sophie shrank a little as they crowded into the room—a mass of brown uniforms, all male except for Colorado Bureau of Investigations officer Carmen Redhorse. Carmen sat on one side of Sophie. Rand sat across from her; he wanted to be able to see her expressive face as she talked. He often learned more about people from their body language and emotions than their words.

“Ms. Montgomery, I’m Captain Graham Ellison. These are officers Simon Woolridge, Carmen Redhorse and Marco Cruz. I understand you have some information to share with us about your sister, Lauren Starling.”

“Yes.” She glanced at Rand and he nodded encouragingly. She looked down at her notebook. “I spoke with my sister on May twenty-sixth, and she was very upbeat, excited about a new project she was working on—one she said would prove to the television station that she was too valuable to let go. She’d been to see her doctor recently and she said she was doing really well on her medication. She had been through some hard things recently, but she was looking forward to the future. She wasn’t a woman who was despondent, or who wanted to take her life.”

“What kind of medication?” Graham asked.

Sophie’s face flushed, but she kept her chin up, and met the captain’s direct gaze. “About six months ago, Lauren was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She’d struggled for years, primarily with mania. The stress of the divorce and job pressures made it worse and there had been a couple of...episodes that forced her to take some time off work. But with the proper diagnosis and treatment, she’d been doing much better. And as I said, she was very excited about this project.”

“What was the project?” Carmen asked.

“I don’t know. But something to do with work, I think.”

“She was the prime-time news anchor at Channel Nine in Denver?” Simon, an agent with Immigration and Customs Enforcement, asked.

“Yes. And as I believe you’ve already learned, she had been told her job was in jeopardy.”

“Why was that?” Graham asked.

The worried furrow in her forehead deepened. “She wouldn’t say outright, and the station refused to talk to me, but I suspect it was because of her sometimes erratic behavior in the months prior to her diagnosis as bipolar. She missed some work and showed up other times unprepared. But she was doing much better in the weeks before she disappeared. She was happy to know what was going on and was following her doctor’s orders and feeling better.”

“But that didn’t stop the station from threatening to let her go?” Carmen said.

“Ratings had fallen. Lauren told me she was going to do something that would boost ratings.”

“Maybe she came here to hide.” Marco Cruz, with the DEA, spoke so quietly Rand wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly at first.

“Hide?” Sophie asked. “From what?”

“Maybe she faked her disappearance to draw attention to herself and to the station, and then she planned to emerge after a few weeks in the headlines.” Marco shrugged. “People have faked all kinds of things for attention, from gunshot wounds and muggings to their own deaths.”

“Lauren isn’t faking anything,” Sophie said. “She started her career as an investigative reporter. I think she had a lead on a big crime and came here to report on it.”

“What kind of crime?” Graham shifted in his chair, the only sign that he was growing impatient.

“I don’t know. It would have to be something big, if she was going to boost ratings.”

“And she didn’t tell you anything?” Carmen spoke slowly, thoughtfully.

“No—just that she was working on a new project that would fix everything.”

“And she never said anything about coming to Montrose or Black Canyon Park or anything like that?” Simon snapped off the question, as if interrogating a suspect. Rand knew this was just his way, but Sophie bridled at this approach.

“No,” she said, and pressed her lips together, clamming up.

“How often did you talk to her?” Rand asked.

She turned toward him. “Once a week or so. Sometimes more often.”

“Anyone else she was close to? A best friend? Neighbors?”

“She still talked to her ex-husband, Phil, occasionally. Have you interviewed him?”

Rand frowned. “Why do you think we should talk to him?”

“Aren’t husbands—or ex-husbands—always the first people police suspect when someone disappears?”

“It depends on the case,” Graham said. “Did Lauren and Phil Starling have a contentious relationship?”

She flushed. “No. I mean, she wasn’t happy about the divorce—he was cheating on her, after all. And he left her to be with the other woman.”

“But she’d already granted the divorce, right?” Simon asked. “She didn’t put any obstacles in his way.”

“No. She even agreed to pay support, since she made more money than he did.”

“So he didn’t really have any reason to follow her from Denver to Montrose and do her harm,” Rand said.

“We don’t know that for sure. And you won’t know until you talk to him.” She looked stubborn, chin up, mouth set in a firm line.

“What about other family members?” he asked. “Brothers, sisters, parents?”

She shook her head. “There’s just the two of us. Our parents were killed in a car accident when I was a sophomore in college. Lauren was a senior in high school.”

“So you’re used to looking after her,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Maybe she resented that,” Simon said. “Maybe she purposely kept things from you.”

“I’m sure she kept a great deal from me. Whatever you think, I didn’t try to run her life. But I know her. She wouldn’t take her own life. And you can quote statistics all day long, but even if—and it’s a huge if in my mind—even if she wanted to kill herself, why would she travel five hours away from her home to disappear in a national park?”

“Sometimes people choose a place that’s meaningful to them,” Marco said. “One they associate with memories or special people.”

“She’d never been here before. This park meant nothing special to her. She loved the city. She wasn’t a hiker or a camper or anything like that.”

“So why was she here?” Graham brought them back to the essential question. “What was this story you think she was working on?”

“I don’t know, but it must have been something major, if she thought it could save her career.”

“If she wanted to report on a major crime, you’d think she’d stay in Denver,” Carmen said.

“Except you guys are here.” Sophie sat up straighter, and looked them each in the eye. “Why form a special task force if there isn’t something big going on here? I did my homework. I know about the drug busts, the human-trafficking ring and the murder of that pilot. Maybe Lauren had uncovered something to do with all that.”

“She never came to us, or to local law enforcement with that information,” Graham said.

“Maybe she never had time,” Sophie said.

“In the course of your research, did you see the newspaper articles about your sister’s disappearance?” Graham asked. “Written by a local reporter who’s taken an interest in the story.”

“Emma Wade. Yes, I read the stories. I plan to talk to her, but I came to you first.”

Rand watched the captain closely. Only those who knew him well would register the slight flush that reddened the tips of his ears at the mention of reporter Emma Wade—soon to be Emma Ellison. Her reporting on Lauren Starling’s disappearance had put her at odds with the gruff commander at first, but now they were engaged.

“Ms. Wade came to us with her concerns about your sister and we have followed every lead,” Graham said. “But there’s nothing there.” He slid back his chair and stood. “I’m sorry, Ms. Montgomery, I wish I had better news for you. If you find out something more, don’t hesitate to contact us.”

The others started moving chairs and rising also. Carmen gave Sophie a sympathetic look and patted her shoulder. Sophie’s expression clouded and Rand braced himself for a storm—of tears or anger, he wasn’t sure which.

But she was stronger—and more determined—than he’d given her credit for. “Wait,” she said. “There’s one other thing that might tie her to this area—to your jurisdiction.”

Graham paused on his way to the door. “What’s that?”

She dug in her purse and held up a small rectangle of white cardboard. “I found this in her apartment. It was tucked into a book beside the bed—the police said they searched her apartment, but they obviously didn’t feel this was significant.”

Randall took the piece of thin cardboard and stared at the crisp black letters on its glossy finish.

“What is it?” Simon demanded.

“It’s a business card.” He turned it over and over, then looked up at his coworkers. “A business card for Richard Prentice.”