Cindi Myers - Murder In Black Canyon

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With a woman's life in jeopardy and a body found in the Colorado wilderness, an agent's homecoming is anything but smooth…When Kayla Larimer’s investigation into a US Senator’s missing daughter leads her to a Colorado cult, a murdered FBI Special Agent and the Ranger Brigade’s Dylan Holt, the fiercely independent private investigator is determined to ditch the sexy Black Canyon lieutenant and catch the criminals on her own. Dylan admires Kayla’s stubborn dedication—even as his protective instincts kick into overdrive. But then a kidnapping attempt on Kayla coincides with the disappearance of the Senator who hired her, and these two opposites must fight a faceless enemy—and their growing attraction—to bring a killer to justice.

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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.

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