Secrets of the Lynx (3 page)

She strained to peer into the long shadows of night and caught a glimpse of something low, moving fast. “Over there?” she asked, pointing.

“Yeah. If there were human beings skulking around, the animal would have known and never crossed the road, putting himself in full view like that. Coyote survives by staying attuned to his surroundings just like the other animals here in Copper Canyon. That’s also how we knew someone had come into the canyon long before we heard your vehicle. Everything became still—too still.”

“Hey, you two gonna chat all night?” Daniel called out.

Kendra realized that for a few moments she’d totally forgotten about the car and her situation. Paul’s low, gravelly voice and his intense gaze had completely sidetracked her.

“Got a plan yet?” Paul called back.

“Yeah, if we lift the rear tires off the rock, it’ll roll down onto level ground. Kendra, you’ll need to get behind the wheel and put it into neutral,” Daniel said.

“Preston, you take the middle, I’ll take the left, and Daniel can take the right,” Paul said.

“No offense, Paul, but maybe we should trade places so you won’t have to stress your shoulder,” Kendra said.

“No need,” Paul said with a quick half smile. “I can lift more with one hand than my brothers can with two.”

Preston laughed as Daniel answered, “Next time I need to unload a van full of tactical gear I’ll give you a call, bro.”

“Once the car’s free, I’ll drive all you guys back to the house,” Kendra said, then got behind the wheel and placed the sedan in neutral.

A few seconds later, the car rose and began to roll forward. It rocked a little as they set it back down but continued to move forward.

“Okay, guys, jump in,” she said. “We need to get to the house as soon as possible. I don’t think anyone followed me here, but you can’t be too safe.”

Paul’s brothers entered the two-door sedan from the passenger side, and climbed into the back.

“Expect some bone-jarring bumps along the way,” Paul said, taking the seat on her right.

His words repeated themselves in her mind. Something told her this case would play out the same way.

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?