Manhunt on Mystic Mesa Read online




  A rule-following ranger finds himself on the hunt for a killer—and falling for a woman who should be off-limits…

  On the hunt for a serial killer, ranger Ryan Spencer can’t afford any distraction. But Jana Lassiter, sister to one of the missing women, won’t let Ryan investigate Mystic Mesa alone. Even though the seasoned officer has always been by the book, something tells him it wouldn’t be so bad to break a few rules for Jana.

  When Jana’s life is suddenly jeopardized, the lawman is forced to face his darkest fears. He’s allowed desire to overshadow duty. Now he has to rein in his emotions to save Jana from becoming the next victim. Because losing this woman he’s inexplicably fallen for will destroy this warrior forever.

  The Ranger Brigade: Family Secrets

  “What kind of vibe from me are you getting?” he asked.

  “One that makes me wonder how often you get involved with women who are part of a case you’re working on.”

  “Never.” He continued holding her gaze. “But there’s a first time for everything, with the right woman.”

  She looked away, lamplight playing across the curve of her cheek and the smooth column of her neck. He fought the urge to kiss her there.

  “This may be the definition of bad timing,” she said.

  “Probably,” he said.

  “But do I feel this attraction to you because there’s something between us, or because you’re something steady I can hold on to while I’m reeling from my sister’s disappearance?”

  “I think the only way we’re going to learn the answer to that question is to stick around and find out,” he said.

  MANHUNT ON

  MYSTIC MESA

  Cindi Myers

  Cindi Myers is the author of more than fifty novels. When she’s not crafting new romance plots, she enjoys skiing, gardening, cooking, crafting and daydreaming. A lover of small-town life, she lives with her husband and two spoiled dogs in the Colorado mountains.

  Books by Cindi Myers

  Harlequin Intrigue

  The Ranger Brigade: Family Secrets

  Murder in Black Canyon

  Undercover Husband

  Manhunt on Mystic Mesa

  The Men of Search Team Seven

  Colorado Crime Scene

  Lawman on the Hunt

  Christmas Kidnapping

  PhD Protector

  The Ranger Brigade

  The Guardian

  Lawman Protection

  Colorado Bodyguard

  Black Canyon Conspiracy

  Rocky Mountain Revenge

  Rocky Mountain Rescue

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Ryan Spencer—The newest member of the Ranger Brigade has a talent for investigation and is determined to find the man responsible for the disappearance of three women. But his attraction to the sister of one victim may distract him from his job—or lead him to the guilty party.

  Jana Lassiter—The quiet, controlled CPA will do anything to find her missing sister, including working with the sexy investigator who alternately comforts her and rubs her the wrong way. This has to be the worst timing in the world for a relationship, but around Ryan Spencer, her emotions are out of control.

  Jenny Lassiter—The nineteen-year-old college student disappeared from a remote archaeological dig. Investigations reveal she had a secret life that included juggling two romances. Did struggles in her personal life or something on the job lead to her disappearance?

  Daniel Metwater—The leader of a wandering band of back-to-nature spiritualists has a reputation as a ladies’ man and a habit of lying to the Ranger Brigade. Is it only coincidence that all the missing women disappeared near his camp?

  Jerome Eddleston—The married archaeology professor’s affair with Jenny Lassiter may not be the only secret he was keeping from his wealthy wife. Was his breakup with Jenny as peaceful as he portrays?

  Eric Patterson—The cocky newspaper reporter claims to be Jenny’s closest friend, but some elements of his story don’t add up.

  For Denise, the best sister-in-law ever.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Excerpt from Secret Agent Surrender by Elizabeth Heiter

  Chapter One

  “We’ve got another missing woman.” Commander Graham Ellison tossed the photo of a smiling blonde in the middle of the table where the members of the Ranger Brigade had gathered for a morning briefing. The fresh-faced, blue-eyed young woman radiated vitality and happiness, jarring when compared to the stony visage of the commander. “Her name is Jennifer Lassiter, nineteen years old, from Denver,” Ellison continued. “She was one of a group of archaeology students working in the area.”

  “That makes two missing women in the past month.” One of the officers seated around the table—the only woman, whose nametag identified her as Carmen Redhorse—glanced at the photo and passed it down the table.

  “Three.” Officer Ryan Spencer spoke from the doorway of the room. The rest of the team swiveled to stare at him. Not exactly the entrance he had wanted to make on his first day at his new job. He ignored the stares, strode to the table and pulled out the only empty chair, at the end opposite the commander.

  “Who are you?” a sharp-nosed, lean man who sat behind an open laptop—Simon Woolridge—demanded.

  “This is Ryan Spencer, with Customs and Border Protection,” Commander Ellison said. “Our newest team member.”

  Ryan sat. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. The drive from Montrose had taken longer than he had anticipated, partly because he had gotten behind a caravan of RVs making their way into Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, where the Ranger Brigade task force’s headquarters were located. But he didn’t bother to mention that. As his dad had always told him—never make excuses.

  “What do you mean three women are missing instead of two?” The man to the commander’s left spoke. He was the picture of a rugged outdoorsman—dark eyes and hair, olive skin, a hawk nose and strong chin. His nametag read Michael Dance.

  “I got a bulletin this morning from my office,” Ryan said. “My former office.” Though he was technically still an officer with United States Customs and Border Protection, Ryan’s current assignment made him a member of the multiagency task force whose job it was to prevent and solve crime on the vast network of public lands in southwestern Colorado.

  He took out his phone and pulled up the message. “Her name is Alicia Mendoza and she’s from Guatemala. Part of a group of illegal immigrants who were traveling through this area on their way to work in Utah. When they were picked up last night, one of them reported that Alicia had disappeared two days ago, near the national park.”

  Simon snorte d. “Nice of them to let us know.”

  “You know now.” Ryan pocketed his phone and looked around the table.

  “Don’t mind Simon.” The man on Ryan’s left offered his hand. “He’s our resident grouch. I’m Randall Knightbridge. BLM.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Ryan shook hands with the Bureau of Land Management ranger, then turned to the man on his right.

  “Ethan Reynolds,” the man said. “I’m new, too. Only been with the Rangers a couple of months. I came over from the FBI.”

  “We’ll finish the introductions later.” The commander consulted a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Back to the matter of the three missing women. Jennifer Lassiter’s fellow archaeology students report that she took a break early yesterday afternoon. A little while later, they noticed she was missing. Her friends searched the area for several hours but could find no sign of her. They notified park rangers and the county sheriff, who brought us in this morning.”

  “Where was she last seen?” Simon asked.

  “Out near Mystic Mesa,” the commander said. “The group is excavating an early Native American settlement.”

  “Daniel Metwater and his bunch are camped near there, aren’t they?” Randall asked.

  “They are.” Simon tapped a few keys on the laptop. “They just received a new permit to camp near a spring out there. Their permit for their site near Coyote Creek expired last week.”

  “After the prairie fire they set near there, I’m surprised the park service renewed their permit,” the woman said.

  “The fire they allegedly set,” a tall Hispanic officer who sat at the commander’s right—Marco Cruz—said. “Fire investigators determined the wildfire was human-caused, but they have no proof anyone from Metwater’s group was responsible.”

  “Except we know they were,” Simon said.

  Ethan leaned toward Ryan. “Daniel Metwater is a self-styled prophet who leads a band of followers around the wilderness,” he explained. “There has been a lot of suspicious activity associated with his bunch, but we haven’t been able to pin anything on him.”

  “The first young woman who went missing, Lucia Raton, was in Metwater’s camp shortly before she disappeared,” the commander said. “At first, he denied knowing her, but later we confirmed she had been in camp. She wanted to join his group, but he says he sent her away because she was underage.”

  “Later, we found a necklace that belonged to her buried about a mile from the camp, with a lot of things belonging to one of Metwater’s ‘family’ members,” the woman said.

  “No body has been found and her family hasn’t heard from her,” Randall concluded.

  “Interesting that this latest missing woman disappeared near Metwater’s camp.” Ethan tapped his pen on the conference table. “Where did the Guatemalan woman disappear?”

  Ryan consulted his phone again. “It just says in the Curecanti National Recreation Area.”

  “That’s forty-three thousand acres,” Simon said. “You’ll need to narrow it down a little.”

  “See if you can get some more specifics,” the commander said. “Then you and Ethan follow up with the archaeologists, see what you can find out about Jennifer Lassiter.”

  “Maybe she got tired of digging in the dirt and decided to take a vacation with a boyfriend,” Michael Dance said.

  “For her sake, I hope that’s the story,” Carmen said.

  “Moving on.” The commander consulted his notes. “Lance, any update on the plant-smuggling case?”

  Simon smothered what sounded like a laugh.

  “What kind of plants?” Ryan asked.

  “Expensive ones.” Lance, a lanky young man, leaned back in his chair to address them. “The park rangers have found several places where the thief is digging up ornamental plants, some of which retail for hundreds of dollars. We’ve got a few faint tire tracks, but there’s nothing distinct about them. No witnesses. Unless we catch this guy in the act, I don’t think we have much of a chance.”

  “All right,” the commander said. “We’re almost done here. Just a little housekeeping to take care of.” Ryan’s mind wandered as Ellison shared some bulletins from area law enforcement, a heads-up about a controlled burn the Forest Service was conducting in the area, and construction updates in the park. The Ranger Brigade was an unusual force, comprised of officers from many different agencies, tasked with overseeing an expanse of public land the size of Indiana. Only a few hundred people occupied that land, but the potential for criminal activity, from smuggling to manufacturing drugs to theft of public property, was huge.

  “All right, you’re dismissed,” Commander Ellison said. “Have a safe day.”

  Ryan pulled out his phone and sent a text to his former supervisor at Customs and Border Protection, asking for the specific location where Alicia Mendoza had been last seen. He hit the send button as the female officer approached. Her straight black hair hung almost to her waist, and her tawny skin and high cheekbones attested to a Native American heritage. “I’m Carmen Redhorse,” she said. “Welcome to the team.”

  “Simon Woolridge.” The agent with the laptop shook hands also. “I’m the tech expert on the squad. I’ve got lots of information on Daniel Metwater, if you need it.”

  “I’m Marco Cruz, DEA.” The Hispanic agent from the Drug Enforcement Agency had a grip of steel, but a welcoming expression. “I hope you like working in the great outdoors, because we’ve got a lot of territory we cover, most of it pretty empty.”

  “Things can get exciting, though.” Randall Knightbridge joined them, a cup of coffee in one hand, a fawn-and-black police dog at his side. “This is Lotte,” he introduced the dog. “Another member of the team.”

  The last two officers he would be working with introduced themselves—Michael Dance was the rugged outdoorsman who had been seated at the other end of the conference table, and Lance Carpenter was the Montrose County Sheriff’s Deputy who was heading up the stolen-plant investigation.

  “Are you married?” Marco asked.

  “No. The job hasn’t given me much time for girlfriends.”

  “You might be surprised,” Marco said. “But if you’re not interested in a relationship, you might want to avoid drinking the water around here.”

  The others laughed, and, at Ryan’s confused look, Randall said, “A lot of us have gotten engaged or married recently. It’s starting to look like it’s contagious.”

  “But some of us are still immune,” Simon said.

  “Thanks for the warning,” Ryan said. “I think.” He hadn’t come to the Rangers to find romance, but to jump-start a career that was beginning to feel stale.

  Ethan clapped Ryan on the back. “Ready to talk to the archaeologists?” he asked.

  “I am,” Ryan said, grateful to have the conversation focused on the job once more. “Where are they located from here?”

  “Come here and I’ll show you.” Ethan led the way to a map that took up much of one wall of the headquarters building. “We’re here.” He pointed to the national park entrance, then traced a path northeast to a flattened ridge. “And this is Mystic Mesa. The archaeologists have been excavating on the eastern side of the Mesa.”

  Randall, who had followed them, pointed to a draw Ryan guessed was about a mile from the archaeology dig. “Daniel Metwater and his followers are camped in here,” he said.

  “A prophet and his followers in the wilderness.” Ryan shook his head. “That sounds so—I don’t know—Old Testament.”

  “He isn’t that kind of prophet,” Randall said.

  “What do you mean?” Ryan asked.

  “No beard or robe in sight,” Randall said. “He’s the son of a wealthy industrialist and supposedly inherited the family fortune. Most of his followers are young people, searching for something.”

  “A l ot of them are really beautiful young women,” Ethan said.

  “So you think he’s killing some of them?” Ryan asked. “But it doesn’t sound like the women who disappeared were part of his group.”

  “They weren’t, but we know that at least one of them—Lucia Raton—had expressed an interest in Metwater’s writings,” Ethan said. “And it’s a weird coincidence that she and Jennifer Lassiter were last seen near his camp.”

  Ryan’s phone vibrated and he glanced at the screen. “This says Alicia Mendoza disappeared when the group she was traveling with stopped for water at a spring at the base of a mesa that ran north-south,” he said. “The people she was traveling with didn’t know a name and couldn’t be more precise than that.”

  “Mystic Mesa runs north-south,” Randall said. He pointed to a spot on the map. “And there’s a spring right at the base of it. The only one for miles.”

  “That’s only a stone’s throw from Metwater’s camp,” Ethan said.

  “Too much of a coincidence,” Ryan said.

  “Then I guess you know who else you need to talk to.” Randall clapped Ryan on the shoulder. “Have fun,” he said. “Metwater may or may not be a murderer, but he’s definitely a pain in the backside.”

  * * *

  JANA LASSITER GRIPPED the steering wheel of her Jeep and studied the barren landscape where her sister, Jenny, had disappeared. Red-rock chimneys and hoodoos jutted up from a flat plain of yellowed bunchgrass and dusty green piñon trees, their soot-gray trunks stunted and gnarled from years of fighting harsh winds and scorching sun. Dry washes and deeper canyons made fissures in the dusty surface of the land. Jenny had texted that she loved this place—that the remoteness and wildness of it made her feel so free. But the vast emptiness put Jana on edge. Compared to this great expanse, a single human was insignificant. With no signposts or roads or buildings, she already felt lost. Was that what had happened to Jenny? Had she wandered away from her group and simply forgotten where she was? Or had something more sinister taken her away?