Colorado Bodyguard (6 page)

Marlee and another young woman, shorter and rounder with long blond hair, looked up from behind the registration desk when they entered. “What a gorgeous dog,” the other woman said. “What's her name?”

“Her name is Lotte.” Rand checked the clerk's name tag. “Hello, Candy.”

“Hey, Officer Knightbridge,” Marlee said, but her eyes were fixed on Marco. “Who's your friend?”

“Marco Cruz.” Marco showed his credentials and both women leaned forward to study them.

“What can we do for you, Officer Cruz?” Marlee asked, a little breathily. Marco often had that effect on women. Rand might as well be invisible.

“We brought some photos for you to look at.” Marco switched on the tablet and handed it to Marlee. “We want to see if you recognize any of them as the man Lauren Starling met when she stayed here.” The tablet started through a slide show of men's photos they'd pulled from the files of the local police of everyone who matched the description Marlee had given them.

“You mean Jane Smith?” Candy asked. “I knew that had to be a fake name—what do you call it, when someone makes up a name like that?”

“An alias,” Marco said.

“Right.” Candy's smile broadened. “I knew Jane Smith had to be an alias, but I had no idea she was somebody famous until Marlee told me. And now she's missing? That's wild!”

“Did you see the man she was with?” Rand asked.

Candy shook her head. “Sorry, I didn't.” She elbowed her friend. “Usually, night shift is more interesting, but not that day.”

“There's a lot of guys here,” Marlee said, eyes on the tablet. “So far, nobody rings a bell.”

Candy leaned over her shoulder to watch the slide show. “Some shady-looking characters,” she said. “I prefer a more clean-cut type myself.” She sent Marco a flirtatious look.

“Was anyone else on duty during Ms. Starling's stay here?” Rand asked.

The two young women exchanged glances. “There's Jobie, the handyman,” Marlee said doubtfully. “He's always around during the day.”

“Is he here now?” Rand asked.

“Somewhere, I guess,” Marlee said.

“Could you ask him to come up here, please?”

“I'll call him.” Candy moved to the phone.

Marlee began flipping through the photos on the tablet again.

“Take your time,” Rand said. “Don't focus so much on what they're wearing or their expression. Try to picture them standing with Lauren that afternoon. Do any of them match your memory of the man she met outside her room?”

“Jobie's on his way up,” Candy said, joining them again.

After a few moments a man in his fifties dressed in baggy pants and a University of Denver sweatshirt shambled in. He eyed Marco and Rand warily, but addressed Candy. “You wanted me for something?”

“These gentleman have some questions for you,” she said.

“What kind of questions?” He took a step back.

Jobie looked as if he would bolt out the door if either officer took a step toward him. Rand was used to dealing with people who were nervous around cops. He watched the handyman closely out of the corner of his eye, ready for trouble, but kept his tone casual. “Do you remember a woman who was staying here about a month ago, a pretty blonde, registered as Jane Smith?”

“We get a lot of pretty blondes who stay here,” Jobie said.

“This one was in 154, on the back side of the building,” Candy said. “Very classy.”

He shook his head, his eyes half-closed. “Don't remember.”

“Maybe a picture will refresh your memory.” Marco handed him the photograph of Lauren they'd copied from Sophie's phone.

His eyes opened wider as he studied the picture, but he shook his head as he handed it back. “Don't know.”

“Are you sure?” Rand asked. “We think she met a man here. Did you see her with anyone, maybe talking outside her room?”

Jobie looked at Candy. “It's okay,” she said. “You're not in any trouble.”

“If you saw something, you need to tell us,” Rand said. “If we find out later you lied to us, it could cause trouble.”

Anger flared in his eyes, and he shoved the picture back at them. “What's it to you, anyway?” he asked.

“This woman might be in trouble,” Rand said. “The man she was with might know something that could help us find her.”

“Alan don't know nothing,” Jobie said. “He stays clear of trouble.”

“Alan who?”

Jobie pressed his lips together and gave a single shake of his head.

Candy leaned across the counter toward him. “Do you mean Alan Milbanks?” she asked. “Was he talking to this Jane Smith?”

“Maybe.”

“Who's Alan Milbanks?” Rand asked.

“He's just this guy,” she said. “He owns the fish place.”

“What fish place?” Rand asked.

“Oh, you know—out on the highway, just past the airport? There's a big sign—Fresh Seafood.”

“You go there often?” Marco asked.

Candy flushed. “Not often. I just...I have a friend who likes to go there, and sometimes I go with him, that's all.” She turned back to Jobie. “Was it Alan?”

“Maybe.”

“Alan wasn't the guy I saw.” Marlee looked up from her study of the tablet. “Alan is older than the guy I saw, and his hair is darker.”

“Jobie, did you see Jane Smith talking to Alan Milbanks here at the motel?” Rand fixed the handyman with a stern gaze.

Jobie shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Yeah. They were standing by his car, parked in front of her room.”

“What were they talking about?” Marco asked. “Did you overhear anything?”

“No. I figured they were just making a transaction, you know.”

Rand and Marco exchanged a look. “A transaction?”

Jobie squirmed. “Alan does a little dealing on the side sometimes. At least, that's what I hear. I wouldn't know personally.”

I just bet you wouldn't,
Rand thought. He turned to Candy. “Is that right? Does Alan Milbanks deal drugs?”

She flushed. “I've heard rumors that he sometimes has stuff for sale. Just, from time to time, you know. Nothing big.”

“But you say the guy you saw wasn't Alan?” Marco asked Marlee.

She shook her head, then glanced down at the tablet once more. “I think he might have been this guy here.” She turned the tablet around and pointed to a color mug shot of a thirtysomething man with light brown hair and schoolboy good looks. “I'm pretty sure this is the one.”

Candy leaned over to study the photo. “Cute. I think I'd remember him.”

“Did you see him?” Rand asked.

Candy shook her head. “Sorry. No.”

“Are you sure this is the guy?” Randall asked Marlee.

She nodded. “I remember the way his nose was crooked, and that little dimple in his chin. His hair was a little shorter than in this picture, and he was smiling, but it's the same guy, I'm sure.”

“Thanks for your help.” Marco took the tablet and switched it off. “We may have more questions later.”

“You did great,” Rand said. “Thanks.” He tugged at Lotte's leash and they headed for the door.

“Come back anytime,” Candy called. “It's usually so boring around here.”

When they were in the cruiser again, Lotte in her place behind them, Marco consulted his notes. “Sounds like Lauren was a busy woman during her short stay here. Do you think she was buying drugs from Alan Milbanks?”

“Maybe a little self-medication?” Rand shrugged. “Who knows?” He punched some information into his computer. “I'm trying to see what I can find out about Alan Milbanks.”

“Sounds like the guy was selling more than fish.”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded. “It says here he was charged with dealing drugs out of his seafood shop, but the case was dismissed for lack of evidence.”

“When was this?” Marco asked.

“About five months ago.” He scrolled down the screen, but found no previous charges or convictions for Milbanks. “What I'm wondering is, does he have any connection to Richard Prentice? And how would a guy like that know Lauren Starling?”

“We need to go ask him.” Marco tapped the tablet on his lap. “What about the guy Marlee picked out? Anybody we know?”

“That guy is Phil Starling. Lauren's ex-husband.”

“I thought he was in Denver. What was he doing in Montrose?”

Rand started the cruiser and shifted into gear. “That's what we have to find out.”

Chapter Six

The hotel room might as well have been a prison cell, for all that Sophie was able to relax in it. She kept replaying the scene in Richard Prentice's mansion. What would have happened if, instead of leaving peacefully, she'd demanded to see her sister? Or maybe she should have looked for her on her own, searching the house until Prentice forced her to stop. Had she passed up the chance to save her sister?

A knock on the door interrupted her fretting. Had Rand learned something to tell her already? She hurried to answer it, and was surprised to see not the handsome Ranger, but Emma Wade and another woman.

“We figured you'd be going stir-crazy, stuck here alone in this hotel,” Emma said. “This is my friend Abby Stewart. We thought maybe we could take you out for coffee.”

“Come in.” Sophie opened the door wider and ushered them into her room. “I have been going a little crazy, sitting here worrying about what's going to happen.”

“I'm so sorry about your sister.” Abby, slim with long, dark blond hair, offered a shy smile. “I remember seeing her on television—she always struck me as so warm and friendly.”

“She never met an enemy,” Sophie said. “Growing up, she was always outgoing and popular. I was the quiet, bookish sister, but I guess that's why we got along so well. We never competed in the same arena. I rooted for her at cheerleader tryouts and she bragged to everyone she knew when I made the honor society.” The memory sharpened the pain around her heart that never really left her these days. Yes, Lauren could be annoying at times, and they'd had their share of sisterly squabbles, but Sophie never thought of those days, only of the good times.

“Abby's a brain, too,” Emma said. “She's getting her master's in environmental science or something.”

“That's what brought me to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison,” Abby said. “I met Michael while I was doing research in the park.”

At Sophie's blank look, Emma filled in the details. “Abby's engaged to Michael Dance, one of the other Rangers. And I take it you already figured out I'm seeing Captain Ellison.”

“Rand mentioned it, yes.” And there was no ignoring the large diamond on the third finger of Emma's left hand.

“You two seem to have hit it off,” Emma said. “I was beginning to think the only female he was interested in is his dog.”

“Oh, Rand's not... I mean, he's just trying to help me find Lauren.” Her face felt hot.

“Still, he's definitely easy on the eyes,” Emma said. “I understand he plays lacrosse in his spare time. Those guys always have great legs.”

“Um, I hadn't noticed.” Well, she had noticed Rand was good-looking. After all, she wasn't blind. More blushing. Time to change the subject. “Should we go get that coffee? I really would love to get away from this room for a while.”

“Sure,” Emma said. “There's a really cute bakery and coffee shop downtown, and there are some interesting boutiques nearby we can check out afterward, if you'd like. I always say, there's nothing like a little retail therapy.”

“That would be great.” Anything to distract her from her worries, at least for a little while.

The coffee shop was every bit as adorable as predicted, with gingham curtains and chicken-shaped salt-and-pepper shakers on every table. Sophie inhaled the scents of fresh-baked bread and roasting coffee and felt some of the tension leave her body.

They ordered lattes and cinnamon muffins, and took a table by the window. “Thank you again for taking such an interest in Lauren's disappearance,” Sophie said to Emma. “I understand you've really stayed on the Rangers' case about it.”

Emma stirred sugar into her coffee, all her earlier cheerfulness vanished. “My own sister disappeared when I was a freshman in college,” she said. “The police didn't take it seriously at first, because she'd run off once before.”

“What happened?” Sophie asked.

“She was murdered. They never did catch the person or persons who killed her.” She reached across the table and squeezed Sophie's arm. “I'm hoping for a much better outcome for your sister. After all, that note means she's still alive.”

Sophie nodded and sipped her coffee, waiting until she was sure her voice was steady before she spoke. “I don't know what to make of the note,” she said. “I mean, did anyone think I'd really fall for that, without seeing Lauren and talking to her, face-to-face?”

“Someone who's used to everyone doing what he wants might believe it,” Emma said as she pinched off a piece of muffin and popped it in her mouth.

“Someone like Richard Prentice?” Abby asked.

“You've both lived here awhile, haven't you?” Sophie asked. “What do you know about Prentice? Would he really do something like kidnap my sister? And why?”

“I've only been here a couple of months,” Abby said. “All I know about him is that he likes to throw his weight around, he has lots of money and he doesn't like the Rangers one bit.”

“I wrote a profile of him for the
Denver Post
,” Emma said. “I followed him around for two weeks and he struck me as a pretty typical powerful businessman with a lot of money. He's smart and arrogant and he's made sure a lot of people owe him favors. But I never thought he was a criminal until I was attacked after visiting his ranch one day, thrown down a mine shaft and left to die.”

“Richard Prentice did that?” Sophie stared. The captain had mentioned the abduction, but hearing the details from Emma made it sound all the more shocking.

“He wouldn't get his own hands dirty,” Emma said. “But I believe he ordered the attack, to keep me from looking further into goings-on at his ranch.”

“Then why isn't he in jail?” Sophie wadded a napkin into a ball, frustration overwhelming her once more.

“Because there's no proof linking him to the attack on me or the crimes in the park or anything,” Abby said. “And his lawyers do a good job of keeping the Rangers from getting too close.”

“They're going to have to come up with something so damning there's no way he can wiggle out from under the charge,” Emma said. “If he is responsible for your sister's disappearance, and the Rangers can make the case against him, it would put him away for a very long time, and probably save a lot of other lives.”

“There must be some way to find out the truth,” Sophie said.

“If it's there, the Rangers will find the evidence they need,” Abby said. “And they'll find Lauren. Believe me, they're putting everything they have into stopping this crime wave. Michael stays up nights, going over and over the evidence they've amassed, trying to find the one thing that will break open the case.”

“Graham, too,” Emma said. “I used to get frustrated at what I thought was law enforcement dragging their feet. But now I see all the things they do behind the scenes that the public never knows about.”

“That must be hard, though,” Sophie said. “Being with men who work such dangerous jobs. Don't you worry?”

“We worry,” Abby said. “But you can't live your life worrying all the time, so after a while you just put it aside and try not to think about it. This is just your life now and you try to enjoy each day and not angst about the future.”

“I need to learn how to do that,” Sophie said. For so many years, she'd had to be the strong one in her family, the one who took care of everything, the one Lauren relied on. Even now, when they lived hundreds of miles apart, Lauren would call asking for advice, or for Sophie's help with a problem. She'd made it her job to worry about her sister for so long, she had a hard time letting go of that role, especially now, when Lauren was in real danger.

Emma and Abby filled in Sophie's silence with small talk as they finished their coffee. “I want to check out that boutique next door,” Emma said when they were done. “I saw a really cute dress in the window when we walked past.”

“You don't mind if we do a little shopping, do you, Sophie?” Abby asked.

“No,” she said. “If I see something cute, I might buy it. I didn't bring that many clothes with me.”

The boutique did indeed have a number of cute outfits on display, and a large sale section. Soon all three women were combing through the racks, exclaiming over this dress or that shirt, and setting aside clothes to try on. Sophie was debating between two dresses from the sale rack when she glanced up and saw a man by the door, his face turned toward her. Dark glasses hid his eyes, and a ball cap covered most of his hair, but something about him was so familiar, and the menacing set of his mouth sent a shiver up her spine. She took a step back and gave a small cry of alarm.

Emma, who was combing through the rack across from Sophie, looked up. “What's wrong?” she asked. “You've gone gray.”

Sophie ducked her head and moved around the rack to Emma's side. “There's a man over there, by the door,” she said, keeping her voice low. “He was staring at me. I'm sure of it.”

Emma looked toward the door. “There's no one there now.”

“But I swear...” She turned, in time to see a man exiting the shop. “There he goes.” She pointed. “I swear he was staring right at me, and he looked so menacing—angry.”

Abby moved to join them, in time to hear the last of the conversation. “Is it someone you know?” she asked.

“I don't know.” Sophie hugged her arms across the stomach, fighting a chill. “He was wearing a hat and dark glasses, but he almost looked like my brother-in-law. Lauren's ex-husband. Except that Phil is usually so neatly dressed. This guy needed a shave and a haircut, and his clothes were rumpled and sloppy.”

“Maybe he's a transient—or a tourist,” Emma said. “He could have been looking at someone behind you.”

“Maybe,” Sophie conceded. “And maybe I'm just extra jumpy because of everything that's happened.”

Abby slipped her arm around Sophie. “We'll stick together for the rest of the afternoon, and keep our eyes open. If the guy you saw is following us, we'll call the Rangers right away.”

Sophie nodded. “That's a good idea. And thank you. For everything.”

From the boutique they moved on to an art gallery, and then a bookstore. Sophie began to relax. Maybe the man had been staring at someone behind her. After all, Rand had removed the bug from her car, so how would anyone even know where she was right now? And Phil Starling was in Denver, with his new girlfriend. He wasn't likely to show up in Montrose.

She was scanning a row of paperbacks, searching for a title that might take her mind off her worries, when Emma sidled up next to her. “Check out the guy by the cash register,” she said. “Is that the one you saw in the dress shop?”

Sophie turned her head just enough to see the man, who was studying a display of blown-glass figurines. From this angle, he looked even more like Phil, though a Phil who had let himself go, or who had fallen on hard times. What was he doing in Montrose? “That's him,” she whispered. “And I'm sure it's my ex-brother-in-law.”

Just then the man turned and looked directly at her, anger radiating from him, as if at any moment he might lash out at her.

But instead of frightening her, his animosity only made her bold. She'd done nothing to deserve his contempt. “I'm going to ask him what he thinks he's doing,” she said.

“Sophie, no!” Abby tried to hold her back, but Sophie shook off her hand. She hurried over to the man.

“Phil, what are you doing here?” she demanded. “Are you following me?”

“What are
you
doing here?”
 
The coldness of his glare made her shrink back, but the others had joined her and Abby steadied her with a hand on her arm.

Sophie forced herself to look him in the eye, aware of the stares of other shoppers around them. “I saw you staring at me in the dress shop,” she said. “And again just now. If you have something to say to me, say it.”

“You need to go home and keep your nose out of other people's business,” he growled.

“Does this have something to do with Lauren?” Sophie's voice rose, all the anger and anguish of the past weeks pouring out. It was all she could do to keep from grabbing Phil and shaking him. “Do you know where she is?”

The man began backing to the door. “You're crazy.” He looked at the other shoppers. “I never saw this woman before in my life. She's crazy.”

“I'm calling 911.” Abby took out her phone.

The man turned and ran out the door. Sophie followed, but already he'd vanished in the crowds on the sidewalk.

The other shoppers avoided her when she returned to the store, as if they believed her accuser when he'd said she was unhinged.

“Michael is on his way,” Abby said.

“I think you ladies need to leave now.” The man who'd been working behind the counter came up to them. “I can't have you upsetting the other customers.”

“That man was following us,” Emma said. “He threatened my friend here.”

The bookstore manager frowned. “I didn't see him do anything but shop, and all he said was for you to go home and stay out of his business. That doesn't sound like a threat to me.”

Sophie felt sick to her stomach. To other people, their encounter with the man probably didn't seem like a threat on his part. They'd been the aggressors, accusing him.

“Come on.” Emma took her friends by the arms. “We'll wait outside for Michael. At least we scared the guy off.”

“For now,” Sophie said. “But we made him angry, too.” What would he do next time? Or would he take his anger out on Lauren? Had she blown yet another chance to save her sister?

* * *

“I
DON
'
T
 
KNOW
what you're talking about. I never saw this woman.” Sweat beaded on Alan Milbanks's high forehead, and his watery blue eyes looked away—at the counter of the fish shop, at the door, anywhere but at the two officers who questioned him. “Anybody who says they saw me with her is lying.”