Secrets of the Lynx (16 page)

“Something feels...wrong.” He held up his hand, asking for quiet. In the distance was the rumbling sound of metal clinking and clacking. “Reloading equipment—one of those vibrating case cleaners,” he said, then gestured to the barn.

“If he’s over there processing some ammo, that might explain why he didn’t hear us drive up,” she said. “Let’s check out the barn first.”

Paul hung back like she’d asked, his gaze taking in the area, searching for the danger he felt but couldn’t see.

“If he’s around guns, I don’t want to take him by surprise. I’m going to identify myself as soon as I walk in,” Kendra said, then entered the barn. “U.S. Marshal—” she called, but suddenly a hand snaked out from behind a stack of hay bales and yanked her back.

“Don’t like trespassers,” the burly man growled, pinning her against him in a chokehold.

Kendra stomped hard on his instep, then slammed her elbow deep into his gut. He bent over, his hold easing slightly, and she twisted free.

In the blink of an eye, Paul hurled himself at the man, tackling him to the ground.

“U.S. Marshal,” Kendra snapped, moving in, weapon in hand. “Stop.” The two men were still struggling, so she couldn’t get a clear line of sight.

The man punched Paul in the chest, trying to break free, but Paul grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully, and rolled him onto his stomach.

The man groaned, then finally stopped resisting. “Okay, you win,” he mumbled.

Paul released him, then rose to his feet and stepped back, clearing the way for Kendra.

“Don’t move,” Kendra said, coming up, her pistol aimed at the man’s spine.

“Relax, little lady,” he said, raising his head off the ground a few inches, trying to see her.

“Deputy Marshal,” she corrected. “You can stow the ‘little lady’ routine. Now roll over and sit up. Keep your hands away from your body.”

“Yes, ma’am. I had no idea you were law enforcement. We’ve had home invasions and break-ins around here lately, so I was just defending my place, like any man would. You didn’t identify yourself until now.”

“I did, right before you began to choke me,” Kendra said. “Bad move. Instead of asking you a few questions and moving on, I’m placing you under arrest. Looks like you’re going to be doing your talking at the closest police station.”

Paul stepped away and called the local sheriff’s department while Kendra kept her gun trained on the man. “You’re Gil Davies, I take it?”

“That’s me, so now that we’ve been properly introduced, you gonna tell me what you want?”

“Some information,” Kendra said.

He smiled slowly. “Forget what happened here, and you might convince me to cooperate. If you take me in, forget about it.”

Kendra looked him in the eye, trying to read him, but before she could answer, Paul came up and touched her on the shoulder.

“He’s got a stash of black market gun parts in a box over there that can turn assault rifles into fully automatic weapons,” he said.

“Looks like we’ll be finishing this off at the station,” Kendra said. “If you want to trim off a little prison time, Gil, start talking.”

“The parts your partner saw were purchased outside a gun show in Durango. If you look in the box, you’ll see the ID badge that proves I was there.”

“To be in possession of those gun parts requires a boatload of specialized ATF permits. Care to show me the paperwork?”

He shrugged. “I bought them from a guy selling stuff out of his trunk in the parking lot. Just one good ole boy to another.”

“Enjoy prison,” Kendra said.

“So you came here just to check out gun parts?” He shook his head. “That’s not what you really want to know, is it?” He smiled slowly. “Your choice. Take me in, and that’s the last thing you’re going to hear from me.”

“Then that’s the way it is. You’re under arrest,” Kendra said. “Turn around, and place your hands behind your back. I’m going to cuff you.”

“Hey, come on. You know this’ll never hold up in court. Where’s your search warrant?”

Kendra smiled. “Didn’t need one. You gave us permission to look in the box, remember? He just took you up on that offer.”

Davis responded with a one-word curse.

It didn’t take long for a deputy to show up, and Kendra remanded Davies over to the uniformed officer. “He’s under federal jurisdiction, so you need to notify the marshals service. Our department will be responsible for the expense of housing the prisoner. And expect a visit from ATF on those gun parts.”

Kendra made a call to that agency and reported the situation. By that time, close to noon, two more deputies had arrived on the scene, along with a search warrant based on information Kendra had forwarded.

As one deputy took Gil Davies away, others began to tape off the area in preparation for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms agent now en route from Durango, Colorado.

While the deputies worked to preserve the scene, Paul and Kendra searched the barn for any more surprises. After several minutes they met outside the barn.

“There’s nothing else here for us,” Paul said. “You might want to leave word for the ATF agent to contact you if there’s anything in the main house that connects to Miller.”

“Good idea,” Kendra said. “After that, there’s another lead I want to follow up.”

“What’s on your mind?”

She took a deep breath. “Gun shows usually have security monitors for the safety of their vendors. We need to figure out who handled that, then take a look at what they recorded from that Durango event.”

“Security is Daniel’s business, and if he didn’t handle it, he probably knows who did. Let me give him a call.”

Paul moved away as Kendra spoke to the remaining deputies about the arrival of the ATF agent. A few minutes later, she joined Paul again.

“I’ve got the information we need,” he said. “Daniel subcontracted the job to a guy named Mickey Carson. He lives in Cortez. We passed through there on the way here, so it won’t take us long to drive back. Do you want to leave now?”

“Yeah. Let’s go pay him a visit. If his video of the event includes any outside surveillance, I’m going to ask to look at the footage. I’d like to try and ID the guy selling black market gun parts. It’s possible he may have done business with Miller, or he might be able to point us to someone who has. Miller gets his gear under the radar, so you can bet he’s got contacts all over the country.”

“We’re getting close to finding answers,” he said as they set out. “I can feel it in my gut.”

“Yeah, but in my experience, that’s when things can start going wrong,” she said.

“Is that what happened when you were trying to track down John Lester, the gunrunner?”

She nodded. “Lester’s a slippery son-of-a-gun who’s always one step ahead of whoever’s after him. The other dealers want him dead because he controls a very big share of the illegal weapons market. The problem is he’s got too many allies and informants,” she said. “Once I capture Miller, I’ll try to get reassigned to that case. I want to bring Lester down next.”

He smiled. “You’ve got a lot of courage, Kendra, and you hate backing off. That’s what I like about you.”

“Yeah, I’m a fighter.” Yet even as she spoke, she knew that was only partly true. In her heart she longed to surrender, to be swept away by the fires she’d found in Paul’s arms.

As she glanced at Paul and saw his steady hands on the wheel, she bit back a sigh. Paul was a man trapped in the past, and he’d only break her heart. She had to keep her emotions locked safely away.

* * *

A
LONG SILENCE
had stretched out between them, and Paul didn’t interrupt the quiet. He needed time to think. For the first time since he’d left the marshals service he thought he had a chance to find closure—to put away the man who’d killed Judy. Kendra was relentless, just the kind of partner he needed to close the case that continued to haunt his dreams.

“You said you know Mickey Carson. Any chance he’s involved?” Kendra asked at last.

“I don’t think so, but it’ll be better if we don’t assume anything.”

“Yeah, better safe than sorry,” she said. “The stakes are too high.”

More than she even realized. Trying not to look at her, Paul kept his eyes on the road ahead. He liked being with Kendra way too much for his own good. Beneath her toughness lay a core of gentleness that drew him to her.

Many women had passed through his life over the years. Some had tried to mother him, others had offered him love, and sex, too. But his instinctive distrust of women had always kept things from going too far.

Kendra had offered him nothing more than a temporary working arrangement. She wasn’t interested in a relationship, not even a physical one, though it was clear the sparks were there. Yet his feelings for her had continued to grow.

Although he could have tried to work on her emotions and persuade her to give in to the attraction between them, the final outcome would still be the same. Kendra would eventually leave and go her own way. The only thing he could do was walk on. He’d forget her...eventually.

“The video...” she said, cutting into his thoughts. “Are you sure you’re ready to deal with whatever we see?”

“I don’t follow. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s possible that someone in this community, someone you know and maybe trust, is one of Miller’s suppliers.”

As he glanced over at her, he suddenly realized what she meant. “Wait—do you think Preston’s been feeding us false information? That he’s dirty? No way. He lives and breathes the job. He sees police work in Navajo terms—as restoring the balance between good and evil.”

“All right, then.”

“Are you really ready to let go of that idea?” he asked, watching her reaction.

She nodded. “I never thought Preston was involved, I just wanted to know where
you
stood, and that I could count on you no matter what turned up.”

“You have your answer.”

They arrived at Mickey Carson’s upscale home outside of Cortez a while later and drove up the long, paved driveway to the front door.

Kendra, out of habit, stood to one side of the massive double doors as she rang the bell, and Paul did the same.

Moments later the door on their right opened. A tall, light-haired man around forty, wearing expensive wool slacks and a V-neck cashmere sweater, greeted them with a pleasant smile.

“Paul, it’s good to see you again. Daniel called a while ago, and I’ve got a flash drive ready with what you need. Sorry I can’t stick around. I’m meeting a new client at two o’clock.”

“No prob. I’ve got my laptop in the truck. I’ll make sure it loads, then we’re gone,” Paul said.

“Okay. Here’s the flash drive. Let’s do this.”

Mickey followed them to the pickup, and on the way Paul noticed three vehicles parked under a big carport. There was a white sedan, a gray SUV, and an older model black pickup. As he glanced at Kendra, he noted that she’d also been checking out Mickey’s transportation.

“Hang on while I boot it up,” Paul said, bringing out his laptop. Moments later, the data files were being transferred to the laptop hard drive.

“You can manipulate the images to accentuate whatever you want,” Mickey said. “You have a little over eight hours of feed there, but the files are still manageable because we used time lapse photography. Images are taken one per second, not continuously.”

“Thanks, Mickey,” Paul said. “Appreciate it.”

“You bet.”

As Mickey walked back to his house, Kendra went around to the driver’s side. “Let me take the wheel, Paul. I’ll drive while you deal with the laptop. It’s set up for you anyway.”

“Sure.” He went to the passenger side, carrying his laptop. “Treat Cassie gently, okay?” he said, climbing into the cab.

“Who?” she asked, then smiled. “You gave your truck a name?”

“Yeah. Cassie’s as tough as they come, but she still deserves a gentle hand,” he said and winked.

As Kendra reached down to turn on the ignition, he saw the tiny smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

* * *

T
HE GRAVEL ROAD
leading back to the main highway was well maintained, but a giant rooster tail of dust still trailed in a thick cloud behind them. “The drought has really taken its toll this year, even up here in southern Colorado.” Paul said, rolling up his window.

Kendra slowed down to thirty miles per hour as she saw an approaching SUV traveling down the center of the road.

Paul, engrossed in the screen, said nothing.

“Move over, dummy,” she muttered, honking the horn.

Paul looked up and saw the vehicle. “He’s probably used to being the only driver on this road.” The large, older model, green Ford SUV was closing the gap at a rapid clip.

Kendra leaned on the horn again, then inched closer to the shoulder of the road. The empty irrigation canal on her right was less than ten feet away now.

Blaring her horn, Kendra touched the brakes and eased over to the side even more. “Maybe the guy had a seizure or something.”

“Or he’s drunk,” Paul said.

Kendra swerved across to the left, but the SUV did the same. Seconds from impact, she cut back to the right. “Hang on!”

Her heart thumping in her chest, Kendra slammed on the brakes. As the truck skidded alongside the canal, she felt the right front tire drop off. “We’re going in!” she yelled, swerving into the ditch and praying they wouldn’t roll over.

The pickup dropped into the ditch upright, metal screeching as the sides of the truck ricocheted back and forth off opposing banks. With one final bounce off the bank, they hit sand, slamming their heads on the roof as the truck came to an abrupt stop. A vast dirt cloud enveloped them.

Paul looked over at her immediately. “You okay?”

Kendra still had a death grip on the steering wheel. “I’m in one piece. Now I need to find a way to stop shaking.”

Paul lifted the door handle and pushed, but the door only opened an inch before hitting the steep inside wall of the canal. The top of the earthen wall was at least a foot above the cab. “No clearance over here, not even through the window. How about your side?”

Kendra released the wheel and tried her door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Nothing. We’re jammed, and the window is right up against the bank.”