Читать книгу Murder In Black Canyon - Cindi Myers, Cindi Myers - Страница 12

Chapter Five

Dylan retrieved an evidence envelope from his Cruiser and sealed the photograph of Metwater in it. He took a few pictures of the vehicle and wrote down the plate number and the GPS location. “Let’s go,” he told Kayla as he pocketed his notebook. “I’ll take you back to your car. You’ll need to give us a statement about what happened at the camp this morning, then you can go. I’ll probably have more questions for you later.” He wanted to dig deeper into what she knew about Andi Matheson and the Family. And he wanted to see her again. Her mix of cold distance and warm empathy intrigued him.

“Do you do this kind of thing often?” he asked.

“What kind of thing?”

“Finding missing persons. Tracking down wayward children.”

“Andi wasn’t a lot of trouble to find. She just didn’t want to talk to her father. Senator Matheson thought I might be able to get through to her.”

“Seems an uncomfortable position to be in—caught in the middle of a family quarrel.”

He wondered if she looked at everyone so intently, as if trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind every word he said. He wanted to protest that he didn’t have an ulterior motive in talking with her, but that wasn’t exactly true. He was trying to figure out what made her tick. Maybe she was doing the same to him. “A lot of my work involves dealing with people in one kind of pain or another,” she said. “Whether it’s a divorce or estranged families, or investigating some kind of fraud. Isn’t it the same for cops?”

“Yeah.” Too much pain sometimes. “You learn pretty quickly to distance yourself.”

“My father made his living by preying on people’s emotions. He was an expert at making people afraid of something and then offering himself as the way out of their trouble—for a price. I think seeing him in action made me wary of letting others get too close.” Her eyes met his, dark and searching.

“Is that a warning?” he asked.

“Take it however you like.”

Neither of them said anything on the rest of the drive back to Ranger headquarters. Carmen met them at the door to the offices. “A crime scene team is on its way out to meet Simon,” she said.

“I found the victim’s car, parked not too far away.” Dylan read off the plate number and location.

“I’ll call it in,” Carmen said. “Some of the team might still be in cell phone range.”

“I’ll call them,” he said. “I’d like you to take Kayla’s statement.”

“All right.” Carmen sent him a questioning look. He knew she wondered why he didn’t take Kayla’s statement himself. He wasn’t ready to admit that the dynamic between him and the pretty private detective was too charged. He couldn’t be as objective about her as he liked and that bothered him. He wasn’t one to let a woman get under his skin. “I’ll be in touch later,” he told Kayla, and turned away.

* * *

KAYLA WATCHED DYLAN leave the room, annoyed that his dismissal of her bothered her so much. So much for the detachment she’d bragged about. This cowboy cop, with his probing questions and dogged pursuit of information, drew her in.

“There’s an empty office back here we can use.” Officer Redhorse led the way to a room crowded with two desks and a filing cabinet. She sat behind one desk and indicated that Kayla should sit across from her. “Have you been a private investigator long?” Carmen asked.

“A couple of years.”

Carmen opened up a file on the computer, then set a recorder between them. “Why don’t you tell me everything that happened, from the time you arrived at the Family’s camp this morning,” she said. “I’ll ask questions if I need you to clarify anything for me.”

Kayla nodded, and took a moment to organize her thoughts. Then she told her story, about approaching the camp, and the two men bringing in the body. Carmen asked a couple questions, then typed for a few minutes more. “I’ll print this out and you can read it over and sign it,” she said, and swiveled away from the computer. “What happened when you and Dylan went back out there?” she asked.

“Are you going to compare my story to his?” Kayla asked.

“I’m curious to get your take on things,” she replied. “Women sometimes notice things men don’t—emotions and details men don’t always pick up on.”

“I don’t think Lieutenant Holt misses much,” Kayla said.

“He’s new here, so I don’t know him well,” Carmen said. “Though he must be good at his job or he wouldn’t have been assigned to the task force.”

“He told me his family has a ranch in the area.”

“The Holt Cattle Company. It’s a big spread south of town. Knowing the country and the people here could be an advantage in this kind of work. Are you from the area?”

Kayla nodded. “But not knowing everyone can be an advantage, too. You don’t come into a job with any preconceived notions.”

“So what’s your impression of the lieutenant?”

Kayla stiffened. “Why are you asking me?”

“I thought I sensed a few sparks between the two of you—though maybe not the good kind. Did you two have some kind of disagreement?”

“No disagreement.” The two of them had worked well together, even though he sometimes made her feel prickly and on edge—too aware of him as a man who read her a little too well for comfort.

Carmen stood. “I’ll get your statement off the printer and you can read through it.”

When she was alone in the room, Kayla sagged back against the chair. Only a little longer and she would be free to leave. She wanted to do some investigating of her own, to try to make sense of what had happened this afternoon.

* * *

“I WANT A warrant to search Asher’s hotel room,” Dylan told Captain Ellison. The two stood outside Graham’s office, Dylan having filled him in on his findings at the camp. “That might give us a clue what he was doing out there.”

Graham nodded. “What about this PI? Kayla Larimer? Does she have any connection to Asher?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll talk to Senator Matheson to verify her story, but I think she was doing what she said—delivering a message to the senator’s daughter.”

“Did you learn anything else from her while you were at the camp?” Graham asked.

He had learned a lot—mainly that Kayla Larimer wasn’t the type of woman to get close to anyone very easily. “She’s good at her job, I think,” he said. “Observant. She pointed out right away that Asher had to have a car nearby, after noting that his boots were new, the soles barely scuffed. And she was good with the women at the camp. She thinks Andi Matheson was so distraught over Asher’s death because they had a close relationship. He may even be the father of her baby.”

“What do you think?” Graham asked.

“Maybe. But Andi might have been distraught because of what she’d seen when the body was dragged into camp. It was enough to upset anyone. And the picture I found in Asher’s car was of Metwater, not Andi. Asher may have had something on the Prophet that got him into trouble.”

“I’ve got a call in to the Bureau, asking if Asher was here working on a case,” Graham said. “Meanwhile, maybe his hotel room will turn up something.”

“Are you going to Agent Asher’s hotel?” Kayla asked.

Dylan turned to find the private detective, followed by Carmen, emerging from an office at the back of the building. “I want to go with you to the hotel,” Kayla said, joining him and the captain.

“This is a police matter,” he said. “You don’t have any business being there. You know that.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue, but apparently changed her mind. “Fine. Obviously, you don’t have a need for me any longer, so I’ll say goodbye.” She nodded to Carmen and the captain, but didn’t look at Dylan.

The snub irritated him. “I might have more questions for you later,” he said.

“Maybe I’ll have answers.” She left, closing the door a little more forcefully than necessary behind her.

“I don’t think she likes you too much,” Graham observed.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Carmen said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dylan snapped.

“If she really didn’t care what you thought, she wouldn’t react so strongly.” Carmen shrugged.

Dylan turned to Graham, and was surprised to find the captain grinning at him. “What are you smiling about?”

“My wife acted as if she hated my guts the first time we met,” he said. “Carmen may be on to something.”

Dylan turned away. “I’m going to file for that warrant.” And he would do his best to forget all about Kayla Larimer. The last thing he needed was a woman who wanted to play mind games.

* * *

KAYLA SCARCELY NOTICED her surroundings as she drove toward town after leaving Ranger headquarters. She had to find a way to see what was in Frank Asher’s hotel room. Lieutenant Holt might believe she had no right to get involved in this case, but he had made her a part of it when he took her back to the camp. She couldn’t drop the matter now, with so many unanswered questions. And it wasn’t such a stretch to see the FBI agent’s death as linked to the assignment she had taken on for Senator Matheson. Agent Asher’s murder had definitely upset Andi, and Kayla needed to know why.

Even if she had never met Dylan Holt and overheard him discussing searching Asher’s hotel room, visiting the hotel would have been the next logical step in her own investigation. She didn’t have the authority of a law enforcement agency behind her, but part of being a good private investigator was using other means to gain information. She might be able to charm a hotel clerk into letting her see the room, or to persuade a maid to open the door for her.

She wouldn’t interfere with the Rangers’ work. But she’d find a way to make Dylan share his information with her. She could even prove useful to him—another set of eyes and ears with a different perspective on the case.

She flipped on her blinker to turn onto the highway and headed toward the Mesa Inn—the name on the parking pass in Asher’s car. She found a parking place in a side lot that provided a good view of the hotel’s front entrance and settled in to wait.

She didn’t have to wait long. Less than half an hour passed before two Ranger Cruisers parked under the hotel’s front portico. Dylan and Carmen climbed out of the first one, while two officers she didn’t recognize exited the second vehicle. As soon as the four were inside, Kayla left her car and headed toward the hotel’s side entrance.

As she had hoped, it opened into a hallway that wound around past the hotel’s restaurant and gift shop, to the front lobby. A large rack of brochures shielded Kayla from the Rangers’ view, but allowed her to spy on them as they spoke first to the front desk clerk, then to a woman in a suit who was probably the manager. She wasn’t close enough to hear their conversation, but after a few minutes the manager handed over a key card and the four officers headed for the elevator.

Kayla put aside the brochure for a Jeep rental company she had been pretending to study and walked quickly to the elevator. She hit the call button. The car the agents had entered stopped on the fifth floor before descending again. Smiling to herself, Kayla found the entrance for the stairs and began to climb.

On the fifth floor, she eased open the door to the hallway a scant inch and listened. The rumble of men’s voices reached her. She was sure one of them was Dylan’s. Risking a glance, she opened the door wider, in time to see the four officers enter a room in the middle of the hall. Kayla stepped into the hall and checked the number on the room—535.

Now what? She couldn’t just barge in—that was a good way to get arrested. And she didn’t want to interfere, but she wanted information.

A loud squeak made her flinch. She turned to see a maid pushing a cleaning cart down the hall. Kayla moved toward her. “Excuse me,” she said. “I wonder if you could answer a few questions about the man who was renting room 535.” She opened her wallet and the maid, who looked like a student from the nearby university, stared at the badge. It clearly identified Kayla as a private investigator, not a cop, but most people didn’t bother to read the fine print.

“Why do you want to know about him?” the woman—her name tag identified her as Mindy—asked.

“He’s part of a case I’m working on.”

Mindy bit her lower lip. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to talk to anyone about the guests.”

“Any information you provide could be very helpful,” Kayla said.

Mindy pulled a cell phone from the pocket of her uniform top. “I’d better check with my manager.”

Kayla held her breath while Mindy put through the call. If the worst happened, she could make a break for the stairs, or bluff her way out of this. But when Mindy explained there was a woman cop who wanted to question her, the manager apparently told her to cooperate. Good thing Carmen was along on this job. The manager probably assumed Kayla was her. “What do you want to know?” Mindy asked, as she slipped the phone back into her pocket.

“Did you see the man who rented that room? Did you speak to him?”

“I saw him,” Mindy said. “But we didn’t talk or anything. I saw him when he left the room yesterday morning.”

“How did he act when you saw him? What kind of a mood was he in?”

Mindy shrugged. “I only saw him for a few seconds. He just looked, you know, ordinary.”

“Did you clean his room? Did you notice anything unusual about it?”

“No. I mean, it’s not like I spend that much time in the rooms. I clean them and get out.”

“So nothing about this guy stood out for you?”

Mindy rearranged the bottles of cleaning solution in the tray at the top of her cart. “Not really.” She avoided looking at Kayla.