Aimee Thurlo - Secrets of the Lynx

“It’s cold. You better put your shirt back on,” she said, her voice husky.

Following an instinct as old as time, he curled his fingers beneath the curtain of her auburn hair and pulled her closer to him. His kiss was gentle, coaxing, not forcing, and as her lips parted, he deepened the kiss, tasting the velvety smoothness inside.

Kendra moaned softly, then pulled away, sucking in her breath. “Whoa!”

“My fault,” he said.

She shook her head. “If I wasn’t working a case I wouldn’t have pulled back. That felt...really nice,” she said, then took a steadying breath. “Paul, you’re a player. I’ve already picked up on that. But I’m here to take down a high-threat fugitive. Getting sidetracked could cost us our lives, so this stops now. What happened is just the result of tension and fatigue. You know that, right?”

He said nothing, but in his gut, he knew differently. The attraction between them was real, and it was strong. He watched her for a moment longer. It was exciting to see the play of light and shadow in her hazel eyes. Kendra wanted more, just as he did, but she was right, the timing was all wrong.

“I’m going to get myself something to eat. Fresh coffee for you?” he growled, walking toward the back counter.

“Please.”

“No doughnuts in the house, so how about leftover fry bread and honey?”

“That sounds great,” she said.

An hour later, though it was still early, she’d finished her report, stowed away her laptop, and was on the phone with Paul’s brother, Detective Preston Bowman, who was en route to the station from his home. “If you turn up any connection between Ms. Sharpe and Chris Miller I want to be there for the interview. Let me know what you get as soon as possible.”

When Paul came into the front room moments later, Kendra was putting her cell phone back into her jacket pocket. As her gaze took in his backpack, she stood. “Shall I follow you into town?”

“I have an idea. We’ve already agreed to work together, so it makes a lot more sense to ride together, too. My four-wheel drive pickup will get us anywhere in the Four Corners that a vehicle can go. Your sedan—not so much. Why not just leave it here?”

“All right,” she said after a beat.

They collected her gear and headed to his truck. “While you stow away your stuff I want to make a quick call to the kid who takes care of my place,” he said. “I already left a voice mail for Nick, but I want to talk to him and make sure he got the message.”

“Sure. Go ahead,” Kendra said, placing her luggage behind the front seat.

Paul placed the call from his truck while the engine was warming up, and a few seconds later Nick answered. “Hey, Mr. Grayhorse, you want me to bring breakfast up now?”

“No, Nick, I’m not at home. There’s something else I need you to do. If you notice anyone hanging around my place, or if someone comes by asking about me, call my brother, Detective Bowman, ASAP. Then call me,” Paul said, and added, “Avoid anyone who looks the least bit suspicious or dangerous. I’ve made some enemies, and I don’t want you involved. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Paul ended his call, but before they were halfway down the dirt road to the gate, Kendra’s phone rang.

“Armstrong,” she clipped, then listened for a moment. “Good job, Preston! Keep an eye on her, but hang back till I get there if possible. If Miller’s at the apartment, I want in on the takedown.”

Kendra placed her phone back in her jacket pocket. “Your brother’s got it together. He’s tracked down Yolanda Sharpe. She’s home right now and, according to her neighbor, has a new boyfriend visiting. Preston doesn’t have the guy’s name, but the description he has of the subject doesn’t exclude Miller.” She paused, then continued, “The way Miller managed to disappear until now makes me think he’s changed his appearance again, but what’s hard is faking height. Miller’s six foot one.”

“So you want to meet Preston at Sharpe’s place?” Paul asked.

“Yeah. Let’s head there,” she said, giving him the address.

“When you question them, let me sit in. If either Yolanda or her boyfriend lies to you, I’ll know,” he said.

“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

“I am,” he answered, feeling the weight of the lynx fetish around his neck.

Chapter Four

Although she’d placed her small carry-on in the rear of the cab, she’d kept her laptop with her. While Paul drove, Kendra worked on the updated report she’d have to file tonight.

They’d reached the outskirts of Hartley when Paul finally broke the silence between them. “I know you’ve been working and that’s part of the reason you’ve been so quiet, but I have the feeling that something else is bothering you. If you tell me what it is, maybe I can help.”

“One thing at a time,” she said, closing the laptop. “Right now let’s concentrate on the operation underway.” She checked the GPS on the dash. “Turn right. Yolanda’s apartment complex should be just ahead.”

“There’s Preston,” he said seconds later, and gestured to an unmarked police car parked behind a cable company van.

“From that location, the complex’s vehicle entrance and exit are both covered,” Kendra said with an approving nod. “They can be blocked off in a few seconds.”

“You can bet he’s got backup already in place too,” Paul said, and parked.

Preston glanced at them as they approached on foot, then got out of the cruiser. “Yolanda’s apparently been traveling and got in early this morning. According to the DMV that’s her SUV over there—the green Ford with mud on the fenders. Not a blue pickup, obviously.”

“Which one’s her apartment?” Kendra asked.

“Two-oh-four, second floor, toward the middle,” Preston said.

“Have you found any connection between her and Miller?” Kendra asked.

“Not so far. I also haven’t been able to confirm the presence of a second person inside the apartment. My men are watching her, and she’s been unloading the vehicle by herself.”

“All right. Let’s go upstairs and pay her a visit,” Kendra said.

She led the way, walking briskly. As the three of them approached apartment 204, Kendra pushed back her jacket so that both her service weapon and badge were clearly visible.

Paul remained beside Kendra. Preston, who’d crossed to the other side of the doorway, gave Kendra a nod. She knocked loudly, but before she could identify herself, a female voice from inside called out.

“Hold on, Alex. I’m putting the beer in the fridge.”

There was a clanking sound, then steps across the floor. The door opened a second later and a dark-eyed, long-haired blonde in her mid-twenties answered.

Seeing them, her expression changed from a grin to a scowl. “Whadda ya want? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m Marshal Armstrong, Ms. Sharpe. This is Detective Bowman of the Hartley Police Department, and I believe you’ve already spoken to Mr. Grayhorse.” Not giving her a chance to reply, she added, “We need to ask you a few questions.”

“Show me your ID. Anyone can buy a badge these days,” Yolanda snapped at Kendra.

Kendra reached into her pocket and brought up her ID.

Yolanda shrugged. “Yeah, okay. So what’s this all about?”

Kendra watched her closely. “You can start by telling us why you wanted to hire Mr. Grayhorse.”

“What do you mean, ‘hire’? I’ve never seen or spoken to that guy before in my life.” She took Paul in at a glance and smiled. “Looks like I may have been missing out.”

“Are you telling me that you’d never heard of Mr. Grayhorse?” Kendra pressed, watching the woman’s expression.