Black Canyon Conspiracy Page 7

  “The offer still stands for you to come stay with me,” he said. “And Sophie could move in with Rand.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but that’s no real solution,” she said. “I wouldn’t be able to come and go at your place, either, and I’d feel guilty about inconveniencing you.”

  “That’s really sweet of you, Marco,” Sophie said. “But Lauren doesn’t need the stress of trying to get comfortable in a new place. She needs routine and familiarity and calm.”

  Right. And the last thing she wanted was for Marco to see her when she wasn’t coping well.

  “Then, you can stay here,” he relented. “But don’t go out unless I can be with you. Or Rand or one of the other Rangers.”

  “You couldn’t protect me from a sniper,” she said.

  “Maybe not, but I can keep you safe from other closer attacks.”

  She believed he wanted to protect her, and the idea touched her more than she wanted to admit. But how could one man, even a law enforcement officer who’d been in Special Forces, protect her from an enemy she couldn’t see and wasn’t even sure she knew? “I heard the captain yesterday—you have work to do,” she said. “You probably shouldn’t even be here now.”

  “After the shooting yesterday, I’m sure the captain would agree protecting you is important to our case.”

  The captain might also think she was more trouble than she was worth.

  A knock on the door made them all jump. Marco quickly moved to the window and pulled back the curtain a scant inch. Then he relaxed. “It’s Rand.”

  He opened the door and Sophie embraced her lover, who was dressed casually this morning in khakis and a blue polo shirt. “Where’s Lotte?” Lauren asked. She didn’t often see Rand without the police dog.

  “She’s at the groomer’s. Technically, it’s our day off, though I’m still working on the case.”

  “Marco’s been scaring us with all his warnings about danger,” Sophie said.

  “I hope it worked.” He kissed her cheek, then nodded to Lauren. “What’s the latest?” he asked Marco.

  “The Grand Junction police think the bullet came from that firing range behind the treatment center,” Marco said.

  Rand nodded. “Perfect place for the shooter to blend in. By the time anyone figured out he was aiming at more than the range targets, he could be long gone.”

  “Any new developments on your end?” Marco asked.

  “Prentice gave another press conference this morning in Denver, where he’s attending a board meeting or something. Senator Mattheson was with him and they took turns going on about what a nuisance The Ranger Brigade is to public safety and how much we are costing the taxpayers every day we’re allowed to continue our efforts to usurp local authority.”

  “He said usurp?” Marco asked.

  “That and a lot of other five-dollar words. The reporters were eating it up, from what I could see of the television footage.”

  “How did the captain react?” Marco asked.

  “He looked as though he wanted to cut out Prentice’s liver and eat it for lunch. But he’d never let anyone outside the Rangers see how upset he is.”

  “The press will have us under the microscope now,” Marco said. “Waiting for us to make one wrong move.”

  “Speaking of being under the microscope, did you know someone is watching this place?” Rand asked.

  “It’s probably one of those reporters,” Sophie said. “When we got back from Grand Junction last night there must have been a dozen of them camped out by the door.”

  “The reporters were gone when I checked this morning,” Marco said.

  “Come check this out.” They all followed Rand to the kitchen window. “The gray SUV, parked on the corner,” he said.

  Marco stood a few inches back from the window and looked in the direction Rand indicated. Lauren came to stand behind him, her hand on his broad, warm back. Touching him this way made her feel steadier—anchored. “It looks like a regular car to me,” she said.

  “Look again,” Rand said. “There’s a guy in it and he’s definitely keeping an eye on this place.”

  “Not the same one who was watching you the other day,” Marco said. He moved toward the door, Rand close behind him. “Let’s find out what this guy is up to.”

  Chapter Seven

  Shoulder to shoulder, Lauren and Sophie stood at the window and watched Rand and Marco saunter down the street—two friends on their way to get coffee or take in a movie, deep in conversation as they walked. When the Rangers reached the SUV, they suddenly veered over, one on each side of the vehicle. Marco leaned in and said something, and then the driver got out of the vehicle.

  “Anybody you know?” Sophie asked.

  Lauren shook her head. “He’s not one of Richard’s guards.” They were all big, strong men. This guy was slight and at least six inches shorter than Marco. He had thinning brown hair in need of a trim and dark-framed nerd glasses.

  The man was gesticulating now, hands waving, head shaking. Marco and Rand said little, listening. “I wish we could hear what they’re saying,” Sophie said.

  “Nobody looks upset,” Lauren said. Rand and Marco were alert, but not rigidly tense. Rand was even smiling now.

  After a moment, the man handed Marco something, got in his car and drove away.

  The two Rangers made their way back to the apartment. The women met them at the door. “Who is he?” Lauren asked.

  “What did he want?” Sophie chimed in.

  Marco closed the door behind him, then handed Lauren a card.

  “Andrew Combs. Co-Lar Productions,” she read, then gave Marco a questioning look. “I don’t get it.”

  “He says he runs an online news network. He wants to offer you a job as their news anchor.”

  “The face of Exposed News,” Rand said.

  “Exposed News?” She made a face. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “There’s a website listed on the card,” Marco said. “He certainly made it sound legit.”

  “If he’s so legit, why is he parked out there spying on us?” Sophie asked.

  “He said he knew reporters had been hassling you and he didn’t want you to think he was one of them,” Rand said. “So he planned to wait until you came out to run errands or something, and he’d meet up with you then.”

  “On neutral ground,” Marco said.

  “And he said he wanted to offer me a job. For real?”

  “He said he could offer you top pay and all kinds of media exposure,” Rand said. “That he’d take your career in a new direction.”

  “That sounds great,” Sophie said. “And online, it would be a national audience, right? Not just Denver. This could be a great thing for you.”

  Sophie’s enthusiasm was contagious. Lauren stared at the card, a giddy feeling of excitement bubbling up in her chest. She did have a lot of experience. Maybe this could be a big break. “Let’s take a look at the website,” she said.

  They trooped to her laptop on the coffee table. She booted up the computer, then brought up the browser and typed in the address for Exposed News. “You must be eighteen or older to view this website,” came the warning page. “That’s strange,” she said.

  “Maybe they’re just being overly cautious,” Sophie said. “I mean, news is full of sex and violence, right? Probably not something you want little kids accidentally surfing to.”

  Lauren clicked the box to verify she was over eighteen and hit Enter. A video loaded, and after a moment they were staring at an attractive young woman reading a report on fighting in the Middle East.

  “Am I hallucinating, or is she naked?” Sophie asked.

  “Definitely naked,” Rand said.

  “Yep,” Marco said. “Fully exposed.”

  * * *

  LAUREN BEGAN TO LAUGH. Not the hysterical laughter of someone on the verge of losing it, but a melodic chuckle that flooded Marco with warmth. He smiled, and the others joined in the laughter.

 
; “It’s nice to know I have something I can fall back on,” Lauren said. She shut down the website. “But I don’t think I’m ready for naked news just yet.”

  “No wonder the guy was nervous about talking to you,” Sophie said. “The idea is so ridiculous.”

  “Life is pretty ridiculous sometimes,” Lauren said. “Or haven’t you noticed?” She turned to Marco. “What now? I know you said you didn’t want us going out alone, but the two of you must have work to do.”

  “I don’t think you should stay here alone, either,” he said. “This apartment is too vulnerable.”

  “What do you mean?” Sophie asked.

  “It’s too accessible from the front and the back,” Rand said. “The front door isn’t reinforced. Almost anyone could kick it in. You don’t have an alarm system or a security camera focused on the door.”

  “We should go back to our original plan of you two staying with us until we’re sure the danger has passed,” Marco said.

  “It will be easier for us to work if we know you’re somewhere safe,” Rand said.

  Marco looked away from the tender expression his friend directed at Sophie. He might have said the same words to Lauren, except he wasn’t one for expressing his feelings in public. Not that he knew exactly what his feelings for the beautiful newscaster were. He’d been assigned to protect her the day he rescued her from Prentice’s ranch and he still felt obligated to that duty, but there was something else going on between the two of them that he hadn’t yet figured out. Physical attraction definitely played a part, but he also felt an emotional connection with her he hadn’t experienced with any other woman. His natural inclination was to back off and not pursue his feelings any further, but the more time he spent with Lauren, the more difficult to do he found that.

  “Pack what you need for a few days and come with us,” Rand continued. “If you hate it, we’ll try to find a safe house or some other place you can stay.”

  “All right.” Sophie took Lauren’s hand. “Come on. It can’t hurt to go along with them.” She winked at Rand. “It might even be fun.”

  While the women prepared to leave, Marco and Rand went outside to wait. Rand leaned against the side of the building, hands in his pockets, and gazed across the half-empty parking lot. “Naked news.” He chuckled. “It would definitely make dull stories about politics and economics more exciting.”

  Marco tensed, waiting for his friend to say something about Lauren being a good fit for the job, but Rand was smart enough not to go there. Instead, Marco’s own mind conjured an image of a naked Lauren reading a news story. His mind went fuzzy as he focused on this picture of her gorgeous breasts and shapely hips...

  With great effort, he forced his mind away from the enticing fantasy and discreetly shifted position to accommodate the erection the daydream had produced. “It’s a crazy idea,” he muttered, and turned away.

  After a moment the women emerged, suitcases in hand. “I’ll take Sophie to Ranger headquarters with me,” Rand said. “Carmen and I are going back over all the evidence we collected at Prentice’s ranch the night we rescued Lauren. We’re hoping we can find something to counter the stories Prentice has been floating in the press, and tie him to criminal activity.”

  “I want to stop by the motel where Phil was staying before he went into rehab,” Marco said.

  “We’ll meet you at the station when I’m done there.”

  “What are you hoping to learn at the motel?” Lauren asked when she was buckled into the passenger seat of Marco’s Cruiser.

  “I’m curious who might have visited Phil while he was in town.”

  The motel was a low-slung, old-fashioned motor court, the white paint faded and flaking. The doors to the rooms, each set back slightly from the next in line, had once been blue, though that, too, had faded to almost gray. Marco parked the Cruiser in front of the office.

  “I hadn’t imagined it would be this bad,” Lauren said.

  “Not his usual style?”

  She shook her head. “I guess he really was in financial trouble.” Her eyes grew shiny and she blinked back tears. “I’m sorry.” She ducked her head. “It’s just hard, realizing he’s gone.”

  Marco handed her a handkerchief. “He was a big part of your life,” he said. The words sounded inadequate, but he couldn’t bring himself to say more. He knew Lauren and Phil had been married for seven years, but he hated to admit she’d loved a guy like that—one who was so weak.

  She dabbed at her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup. “Things were over between us a long time ago,” she said. “But I still cared about him. Not the way I cared when we were first married, but just because he’d been important to me once.” She glanced at him. “Have you ever been married?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He could have told her the answer was none of her business, or dismissed the question with a cliché about not having met the right woman. But too many people had lied to Lauren; he didn’t want to be one of them. “The work I do is dangerous. Adding someone else into the mix, someone I care about and need to protect, complicates things. I might make a mistake because I’m thinking of that person instead of the job.”

  “Or maybe knowing that person was supporting you, wanting you to come home safely, would inspire you to even greater success.” She folded the handkerchief and handed it back to him. “I don’t think relationships are ever all good or all bad. Sometimes it’s a matter of perspective.”

  No one had ever skewed his perspective the way she had; he didn’t know if he liked it or not. He tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket and opened the door of the Cruiser. “Let’s go see who we can find to talk to.”

  The only person in the office was an older man in a stained white T-shirt. He scowled at the badge Marco showed him, glanced at Lauren, then back at Marco. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “You had a man staying here for almost four weeks in June and July,” Marco said. “Phil Starling.”

  “Don’t know him.”

  “Maybe this will refresh your memory.” Marco handed over a copy of that morning’s paper with Phil’s photo and the news of his death on the front page.

  The old man grunted. “Him. So he got shot.” He shoved the paper back across the counter. “Nothing to do with me.”

  “I want to know if anyone came to see him while he was here,” Marco said.

  “What? You think I keep tabs on my guests? What they do is their own business.”

  Marco glanced out the window to the right of the front desk, at the row of rooms with blue doors. “You’ve got a pretty good view here. You strike me as a man who keeps an eye on things.”

  The man stood up a little straighter. “I don’t want any trouble. I run a clean place.”

  “So you would have noticed if Mr. Starling had visitors.”

  “He didn’t. He kept to himself.”

  “So no one ever came to see him the whole time he was here?” Marco asked.

  “I didn’t say that. People stopped by a couple times.”

  “What kind of people? Can you describe them?”

  The guy shrugged. “A couple of big fellows. Football linebacker types.”

  “How many times did they visit?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “We’re trying to find out who killed him.” Not exactly true. That case belonged to the Grand Junction cops. Marco was looking for any connection to Richard Prentice, who was known to hire beefy guys as his private security guards. “How many times did these big guys come to see Phil Starling?”

  The old man looked down at the newspaper. “Twice. Once a few days before Starling moved out. The second time, he left with them, but not before one came in and paid his bill.”

  “How much was the bill?”

  “One hundred and seventy-three dollars with tax. I was ready to throw the bum out for being so behind. He kept telling me he’d get the money, and I guess he was right.”

  �
�Did the man who paid say anything?” Marco asked. “Did he give you a name or say who he worked for or anything?” They should be so lucky.

  “No. He just asked how much Starling owed and paid up. Cash, from a big wad of bills.”

  “You didn’t think that was unusual, to pay in cash?”

  “Some people don’t like credit cards.”

  “Did Starling leave anything behind in his room when he moved out?” Marco asked.

  “No. I was expecting it to be trashed, he’d been holed up in there so long, but they must have taken everything with them. Even the garbage. It was clean. I mean, cleaner than it was when he checked in. Looked as if somebody had washed everything in there.”

  “Anything else you can tell us about Phil Starling?” Marco asked.

  “Nope.”

  Marco handed him a business card. “If you think of anything, call me at that number.”

  Lauren waited until they were in the Cruiser once more before she spoke. “Phil wasn’t that fastidious,” she said. “He never cleaned when we were married.”

  “His two friends might have done the job.”

  “But why go to all that trouble?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe to get rid of fingerprints, or anything that betrayed their identity.”

  “They sound like the type of guys who work for Richard,” she said.

  “Unless we find something to prove an association, that doesn’t do us any good,” he said.

  “It’s so frustrating, how he never does his own dirty work,” she said. “His money and his position keep him a safe distance from anything incriminating.”

  He backed the Cruiser out of the parking spot and turned onto the street. “In this case, there’s nothing criminal about paying someone’s hotel bill,” he said.

  “Then, why do it?” she asked. “I can’t believe it’s because he liked Phil so much.”

  “Favors like that make people obligated to him,” Marco said. “When he needs something from them, they’re more likely to go along.”

  “That’s a lot of trouble to go to just to get someone to tell reporters I’m crazy.” Her voice cracked and Marco glanced at her, wondering if she was going to cry again. But she stiffened her shoulders and stared straight ahead. “I still can’t believe Richard might want to kill me now. He said he loved me.”