Secrets of the Lynx (8 page)

“I can stop at the MallMart and buy myself something less businesslike.”

“Then they’ll notice that what you’re wearing is brand-new,” he said, shaking his head. “You need to fit in.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Borrow a pair of my jeans. You’ll have to roll them up a bit, but they should fit. You can also wear one of my pullover sweaters. It’ll be big on you, but you can conceal your badge and gun beneath it easily.”

“Okay,” Kendra said after considering it for a moment. “But I’m calling your brother and asking for extra patrols in your neighborhood while we’re there. If the guy shows up, I want backup close by.”

“I can live with that.”

As she called Preston, her gaze continually strayed back to Paul. Though she knew it would only complicate matters, the more she got to know Paul the more she liked him. After all he’d been through, she’d expected to find a jaded former marshal, sour on the world. Yet Paul wasn’t like that at all. He still cared about people and had shown remarkable loyalty to the marshals service and his former partner.

“What’s on your mind, pretty lady?” he said, his voice a gravelly whisper that ignited her senses.

For a moment she felt herself drowning in the dark, steady gaze that held hers. Certain he knew precisely how that look could make even the most sensible of women go a little crazy inside, she forced herself to look back down the street.

“It’s not going to happen,” she said firmly, pretending to be watching traffic.

“What?”

“You’re not going to charm me, or tempt me to forget I’m here on business,” she said.

“You’re wound too tight,” he said, chuckling. “I’m just being myself.”

She didn’t answer. She liked Paul way too much and he knew it. If she didn’t keep her guard up, she’d end up in a world of trouble.

Chapter Six

They arrived at Paul’s second-story apartment a short while later. “Living above a coffee shop has definite advantages,” she said, noting the wonderful aromas that filled the air as they climbed the flight of stairs. “How did you find such an interesting place?”

“The apartment belongs to Nick’s dad, Jerry. He gave it to me free of charge—minus utilities—as a trade-off for my surveillance services. It’s worked out for both of us, too. Ever since I put up the cameras, his place hasn’t been held up,” Paul said. “Of course that’s not the only reason he wanted me close by.”

“I get it. You’re a good influence on Nick,” she said, and saw him nod.

“Jerry and Nick aren’t close, but the gap between them widened even more when Jerry found out that Nick was in a gang. He had no idea how to help his kid.”

“So what made you get involved?”

“Nick was headed in the wrong direction just like I was at one time. If it hadn’t been for
Hosteen
Silver, my life would have been a real mess. I figured it was time for me to step up and do the same thing for someone else.”

“Pay it forward,” she said with a nod.

“Exactly.” He entered a set of numbers on an electronic keypad lock, opened the door, and invited her in.

As she looked around Paul’s combination living room, office and kitchen, Kendra realized that this wasn’t so much a home as a place Paul lived in while he worked.

A large wooden desk held three computers, a multifunction printer and a monitor with a webcam. Two larger monitors with split screens and speakers hung on the wall behind and above the desk. Beside them, on a second rolltop desk stood a larger printer and a nineteen-inch flat screen TV. Across from that was a comfortable-looking leather recliner.

Beneath two small windows on the south side of the kitchen area was a counter that held a microwave oven and a coffeepot. On the adjacent wall stood a small fridge and narrow stove.

“It’s small,” he said as if he’d read her mind, “but it’s easy to keep and serves my purpose. What’s your apartment like in Denver?” he asked her.

“It’s large, an old office loft, close to the federal building. It took me forever to find it. I needed lots of shelves for my...stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Mostly knickknacks and collectibles I’ve bought over the years. Life with the colonel took us all around the world. Sometimes we’d move as often as twice a year. With his rank, we didn’t have much trouble getting our stuff from post to post, but making each new place feel like home could be tough. Eventually I learned to surround myself with familiar things that had special meaning to me.”

“You’ve referred to him as ‘the colonel’ before. You didn’t call him Dad?”

“He preferred ‘colonel.’ He told Mom that it helped maintain a sense of discipline in the family.”

“So he was strict?”

“Oh, yeah. For my brother and me, our house was like boot camp. You did things his way—no argument. Rules were everything to him. It was even more so after Mom passed away. By then I’d turned seventeen and I was marking off the days until I could leave for college. My brother received an appointment to West Point the year before. The first time he came home for Christmas, he told me being a plebe was easy, compared to home.”

“Tough, huh? Do you ever visit the colonel these days?”

She shook her head. “He spends most of his time overseas, and a Christmas phone call is enough.” Realizing she’d said too much, she suddenly grew silent. Paul was way too easy to talk to; she’d have to watch that from now on.

“It’s been a while since breakfast,” he said, stepping across to the fridge. “Hungry?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“I have some frozen TV dinners. Take your pick—Mexican or Asian.”

“Mexican.”

“I’ll nuke yours in the microwave while you go change clothes. Help yourself to whatever’s in the closet. The shelves on the right hand side have my pullover sweaters.”

“And the bedroom is...?”

“End of the hall—on the left.”

As she walked to the back of the apartment, she found herself wishing she could have met Paul under different circumstances. Another time, another place, they may have become good friends...or more.

Kendra stepped inside Paul’s bedroom and looked around. It was orderly but sparse—good thing, too, because it was tiny. The closet, with its two narrow sliding doors, was nearly empty—as opposed to hers, which was crammed full. She looked at the shelves fitted into the sides and saw the sweaters he’d mentioned.

She selected the top one, a blue wool crewneck, and slipped it over her blouse. It was warm and comfortable.

Kendra then chose a pair of jeans he’d draped over a hanger. Like most men, Paul had slim hips. The pants fit snugly on her, but they weren’t uncomfortable. She rolled up the legs, creating cuffs, then looked at herself in the mirror attached to the closet door on the left.

She looked more like Paul’s girlfriend than a cop now. For a moment, the very fact that she was wearing his clothes made her feel wonderfully wicked. It was like a warm, naked hug from the big man in the next room.

She smiled wistfully. Maybe someday she’d find a guy like Paul who could spark all her senses with just a glance. With luck, he’d also turn out to be a man who wanted the same things she did—a home and kids.

She shook free of the thought. She’d settle for a dinner date where nobody came packing a gun.

When she walked back to the front room Paul gave her a slow onceover. Although she was sure that it was a well-practiced gesture, it had the intended effect. The thoroughness of that look left her tingling all over.

Needing to focus on something safer, she pointed to the tea brewing in a cup on the counter. “Smells good. What kind of tea is that?”

“It’s a special medicinal blend.
Hosteen
Silver taught us to fix it whenever...we needed it.”

“That’s the real reason you wanted to come here.”

He shook his head. “It was part of the reason, but not the only one,” he said.

“Are you in pain?” she asked bluntly.

“When the wind and cold pick up, my shoulder aches.
Tsinyaachéch’il
makes it stop.”

“Didn’t your doctor ever give you something you could take for that?”

“Sure, but painkillers put me in a haze, and I need to stay alert. Aspirin helps, but only in large doses. This tea works better all the way around.”

“What is it exactly?”

“The main ingredient is an herb known as Oregon grape. It grows in the high country.” As he stretched his arm and reached into the back of the freezer for the TV dinners, she saw him flinch. He did it again as he placed the dinners in the microwave.

“Are you sure you’re up to this search for Annie tonight? I could get your brother to assign me an undercover officer.”

“In another twenty minutes, give or take, my shoulder will be back to normal. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

She looked at the pouch that contained the tea. “Does Oregon grape taste as good as it smells?”

“Not by itself. The scent you’re picking up includes some other herbs
Hosteen
Silver taught us to add to the mixture to make the tea more palatable.”

“So what else is in there?”

He shook his head. “Knowledge like this isn’t shared outside family. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to go into details.”

The microwave dinged just then, and she didn’t press him.

After a quick dinner, Kendra helped him pick up in the kitchen. “Are you good to go?” she asked, glancing at his shoulder.

He moved his arm in a circle. “See? No problems now.”

Paul called Nick as they got ready to leave. “Keep an eye on my place, will you? I can’t monitor the cameras where I’m going, so I’d like you to stay alert.”

“You’ve got it, Mr. Grayhorse.”

Hearing the howl of the wind outside even before he opened the door, Paul turned to Kendra. “You’re going to need a coat. Take my black leather jacket. It’s on the back of the bedroom door.”

He grabbed another, a well-worn, brown leather jacket from the hall closet.

“We’re going to have to watch each other’s backs in that alley,” Kendra said after they were on their way.

“Just stay cool and don’t tense up,” Paul said. “Some of my informants hang out on that street, and I expect they’ll come right up to us.”

Ten minutes later they parked a block down from the alley, then strolled up the sidewalk. Drive time traffic had picked up since their bookstore trip.

They were on the side of the street that was sheltered from the wind by the tall buildings. Comfortable, Kendra fell into step beside Paul.

“Slouch a little more, and pick up some street attitude. You’re walking like a cop,” Paul said softly.

“Okay,” she said, trying to correct her lapse.

They turned the corner beside the bus terminal and continued down the block. The alley between Third and Fourth streets was just ahead.

A tall redhead in a loose open coat, wearing a short skirt and a skintight top, greeted Paul with a huge smile. “Hey, Paul. How’s it going?” she said, standing at an angle to emphasize her assets. “I didn’t expect to see you downtown. You looking for some fun?”

“Hey, Brandy, how are you doing? Cold evening to be working.”

“Pays the bills,” Brandy answered with a shrug. “So you looking for a threesome?” she added, giving Kendra the once-over.

Kendra forced a smile, glad she hadn’t choked.

“Thanks, but, no,” he said, placing his arm over Kendra’s shoulder in a familiar, yet casual gesture. “Actually I’m looking for Annie Crenshaw—slim, blonde and a little shorter than you. I heard she hangs here sometimes.”

Brandy made a face. “Oh, Antsy Annie? She’s messed up. Don’t waste your money. You can do a lot better.”

“We just need to talk to her. Give me a call if you see her,” Paul said, then reached for his wallet.

Kendra figured he’d give her his card but, instead, Paul handed Brandy a couple of twenties.

“You still got my cell number?” he asked her.

“Burned into my memory,” Brandy said, giving him a big smile “555-1967.”

A small, buxom brunette in jeans so tight they left nothing to the imagination came up and put her hand on Paul’s arm. “Hey, handsome, it’s good to see you.”

“Hey, Kat,” Paul greeted. “How’ve you been?”

Kendra watched Paul as he spoke to the women. He treated them with respect, looking past their present circumstances and seeing who they were at heart—women trying to survive. That kindness seemed to bring out the best in them.

Soon a tall, slender man wearing a stocking cap and a long leather coat climbed out of a parked Mercedes and came over. “These are my girls, so quit wasting their time with chitchat, Grayhorse. Make a deal or move along. Time is money—my money.”

“Don’t disrespect me or the ladies, Bobby. Get back in the car.”

“Yeah, yeah. Talk big. Now look, man, you’re hurting my business here, and my girls are trying to make a living. You got five minutes, then be gone before you scare away any customers,
comprendes?
” Bobby glanced at a passing car with a solitary driver. The man eagerly eyed the women, but when he saw Paul watching him, he accelerated down the street.

“There goes a regular. Am I gonna have to pay you to get lost, dude?”

“I’m looking for Annie Crenshaw. Seen her around this evening?”

“She ain’t one of mine—too flat and skinny for my players. I saw her coming out of the Excelsior Drugstore about ten minutes ago, two blocks down on Fourth. If she didn’t pick up someone along the way, she’s probably at the far end of this alley by now.”

Paul gave Bobby a curt nod and smiled at the women. “Take care, ladies.”

“Come by anytime,” Brandy said.

Paul and Kendra walked side by side down the sidewalk, circling the block instead of going up the alley. Despite their easy strides, Kendra stayed alert for trouble.

As the shadows deepened and darkness took over, the wind intensified. Cold gusts chilled their faces as they walked. Kendra pulled the zipper on the jacket all the way up to her neck. Remembering the scanty clothing Brandy, Kat and the other women had been wearing, she wondered how they could stand the cold. Maybe that was one of the reasons they remained around the corner, near the building.

As soon as they reached the far corner, they saw a slender blonde in a furry jacket, high heels and short skirt walking away from them down the sidewalk, her eyes on passing cars.