Colorado Bodyguard (2 page)

Her eyes, full of so much determination...and not a little fear, met his. In that moment, he saw all it had taken for her to come here, knowing that pursuing her quest might only lead to the end of all hope for her sister. Her courage moved him, and fueled his growing attraction to this quiet, determined woman. “Of course,” he said. “I'll be happy to listen to what you have to say. Would you mind if I brought in my commander and some other officers, as well?”

“No, not at all.” Her lower lip trembled, but she quickly brought it under control. “Thank you.”

He resisted the urge to cover her hand with his own; she might take his gesture of comfort the wrong way. He left the conference room, shutting the door behind him, and found Graham in his office. “Lauren Starling's sister is here,” he said. “She doesn't think Lauren ran away or killed herself. She thinks she might be in real trouble.”

Graham, a big man with the imposing demeanor of the US Marine he had once been, looked up from a stack of files. “Does she have any information that would help us find her sister?” he asked.

“I don't know, but I thought we should hear her out.”

“All right. Who else is here?”

“Carmen and Simon were in the computer room a little while ago. And Marco is around somewhere.”

“Then round them up and ask them to report to the conference room. Maybe one of us will spot something in the sister's story that will help.”

Ten minutes later, they all converged on the conference room. Sophie shrank a little as they crowded into the room—a mass of brown uniforms, all male except for Colorado Bureau of Investigations officer Carmen Redhorse. Carmen sat on one side of Sophie. Rand sat across from her; he wanted to be able to see her expressive face as she talked. He often learned more about people from their body language and emotions than their words.

“Ms. Montgomery, I'm Captain Graham Ellison. These are officers Simon Woolridge, Carmen Redhorse and Marco Cruz. I understand you have some information to share with us about your sister, Lauren Starling.”

“Yes.” She glanced at Rand and he nodded encouragingly. She looked down at her notebook. “I spoke with my sister on May twenty-sixth, and she was very upbeat, excited about a new project she was working on—one she said would prove to the television station that she was too valuable to let go. She'd been to see her doctor recently and she said she was doing really well on her medication. She had been through some hard things recently, but she was looking forward to the future. She wasn't a woman who was despondent, or who wanted to take her life.”

“What kind of medication?” Graham asked.

Sophie's face flushed, but she kept her chin up, and met the captain's direct gaze. “About six months ago, Lauren was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She'd struggled for years, primarily with mania. The stress of the divorce and job pressures made it worse and there had been a couple of...episodes that forced her to take some time off work. But with the proper diagnosis and treatment, she'd been doing much better. And as I said, she was very excited about this project.”

“What was the project?” Carmen asked.

“I don't know. But something to do with work, I think.”

“She was the prime-time news anchor at Channel Nine in Denver?” Simon, an agent with Immigration and Customs Enforcement, asked.

“Yes. And as I believe you've already learned, she had been told her job was in jeopardy.”

“Why was that?” Graham asked.

The worried furrow in her forehead deepened. “She wouldn't say outright, and the station refused to talk to me, but I suspect it was because of her sometimes erratic behavior in the months prior to her diagnosis as bipolar. She missed some work and showed up other times unprepared. But she was doing much better in the weeks before she disappeared. She was happy to know what was going on and was following her doctor's orders and feeling better.”

“But that didn't stop the station from threatening to let her go?” Carmen said.

“Ratings had fallen. Lauren told me she was going to do something that would boost ratings.”

“Maybe she came here to hide.” Marco Cruz, with the DEA, spoke so quietly Rand wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly at first.

“Hide?” Sophie asked. “From what?”

“Maybe she faked her disappearance to draw attention to herself and to the station, and then she planned to emerge after a few weeks in the headlines.” Marco shrugged. “People have faked all kinds of things for attention, from gunshot wounds and muggings to their own deaths.”

“Lauren isn't faking anything,” Sophie said. “She started her career as an investigative reporter. I think she had a lead on a big crime and came here to report on it.”

“What kind of crime?” Graham shifted in his chair, the only sign that he was growing impatient.

“I don't know. It would have to be something big, if she was going to boost ratings.”

“And she didn't tell you anything?” Carmen spoke slowly, thoughtfully.

“No—just that she was working on a new project that would fix everything.”

“And she never said anything about coming to Montrose or Black Canyon Park or anything like that?” Simon snapped off the question, as if interrogating a suspect. Rand knew this was just his way, but Sophie bridled at this approach.

“No,” she said, and pressed her lips together, clamming up.

“How often did you talk to her?” Rand asked.

She turned toward him. “Once a week or so. Sometimes more often.”

“Anyone else she was close to? A best friend? Neighbors?”

“She still talked to her ex-husband, Phil, occasionally. Have you interviewed him?”

Rand frowned. “Why do you think we should talk to him?”

“Aren't husbands—or ex-husbands—always the first people police suspect when someone disappears?”

“It depends on the case,” Graham said. “Did Lauren and Phil Starling have a contentious relationship?”

She flushed. “No. I mean, she wasn't happy about the divorce—he was cheating on her, after all. And he left her to be with the other woman.”

“But she'd already granted the divorce, right?” Simon asked. “She didn't put any obstacles in his way.”

“No. She even agreed to pay support, since she made more money than he did.”

“So he didn't really have any reason to follow her from Denver to Montrose and do her harm,” Rand said.

“We don't know that for sure. And you won't know until you talk to him.” She looked stubborn, chin up, mouth set in a firm line.

“What about other family members?” he asked. “Brothers, sisters, parents?”

She shook her head. “There's just the two of us. Our parents were killed in a car accident when I was a sophomore in college. Lauren was a senior in high school.”

“So you're used to looking after her,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Maybe she resented that,” Simon said. “Maybe she purposely kept things from you.”

“I'm sure she kept a great deal from me. Whatever you think, I didn't try to run her life. But I know her. She wouldn't take her own life. And you can quote statistics all day long, but even if—and it's a huge
if
in my mind—even if she wanted to kill herself, why would she travel five hours away from her home to disappear in a national park?”

“Sometimes people choose a place that's meaningful to them,” Marco said. “One they associate with memories or special people.”

“She'd never been here before. This park meant nothing special to her. She loved the city. She wasn't a hiker or a camper or anything like that.”

“So why was she here?” Graham brought them back to the essential question. “What was this story you think she was working on?”

“I don't know, but it must have been something major, if she thought it could save her career.”

“If she wanted to report on a major crime, you'd think she'd stay in Denver,” Carmen said.

“Except you guys are here.” Sophie sat up straighter, and looked them each in the eye. “Why form a special task force if there isn't something big going on here? I did my homework. I know about the drug busts, the human-trafficking ring and the murder of that pilot. Maybe Lauren had uncovered something to do with all that.”

“She never came to us, or to local law enforcement with that information,” Graham said.

“Maybe she never had time,” Sophie said.

“In the course of your research, did you see the newspaper articles about your sister's disappearance?” Graham asked. “Written by a local reporter who's taken an interest in the story.”

“Emma Wade. Yes, I read the stories. I plan to talk to her, but I came to you first.”

Rand watched the captain closely. Only those who knew him well would register the slight flush that reddened the tips of his ears at the mention of reporter Emma Wade—soon to be Emma Ellison. Her reporting on Lauren Starling's disappearance had put her at odds with the gruff commander at first, but now they were engaged.

“Ms. Wade came to us with her concerns about your sister and we have followed every lead,” Graham said. “But there's nothing there.” He slid back his chair and stood. “I'm sorry, Ms. Montgomery, I wish I had better news for you. If you find out something more, don't hesitate to contact us.”

The others started moving chairs and rising also. Carmen gave Sophie a sympathetic look and patted her shoulder. Sophie's expression clouded and Rand braced himself for a storm—of tears or anger, he wasn't sure which.

But she was stronger—and more determined—than he'd given her credit for. “Wait,” she said. “There's one other thing that might tie her to this area—to your jurisdiction.”

Graham paused on his way to the door. “What's that?”

She dug in her purse and held up a small rectangle of white cardboard. “I found this in her apartment. It was tucked into a book beside the bed—the police said they searched her apartment, but they obviously didn't feel this was significant.”

Randall took the piece of thin cardboard and stared at the crisp black letters on its glossy finish.

“What is it?” Simon demanded.

“It's a business card.” He turned it over and over, then looked up at his coworkers. “A business card for Richard Prentice.”

Chapter Two

Sophie tried to read the look that passed between the officers. The business card definitely interested them. “Do you know Richard Prentice?” she asked. “Have you asked him if he knows anything about my sister's disappearance?”

“You don't know Prentice?” Rand Knightbridge asked. “Your sister didn't mention him?”

“She never said anything about him. And I'm not from here, so I don't keep up with local people and events. I looked him up on the internet, but all I learned is that he's a very rich businessman and he has an estate near the park. That seems significant, don't you think? Maybe she came here to see him.”

“Where are you from?” Captain Ellison asked.

“Madison, Wisconsin. Tell me about Richard Prentice.”

“Like you said, he's a rich guy who owns a mansion near here,” Officer Woolridge said, his sour expression making clear his opinion of Prentice.

“We should talk to him,” Sophie said. “Maybe he knows why Lauren was here. Maybe she interviewed him for a story.”

Again, Rand and the captain exchanged looks. “What is it?” she demanded. “What aren't you telling me?”

“Prentice is an agitator,” Woolridge said. “He likes to make a lot of noise in the press and try to provoke a reaction from people he's trying to manipulate.”

“What kind of reaction?”

“He wants money,” Rand said. “His specialty is buying historically or environmentally sensitive property at rock-bottom prices, then threatening to destroy the property or to use it in some offensive way if the government, or sometimes a private conservation group, doesn't step in and pay the high price he demands.”

“That's extortion,” she said.

“And perfectly legal,” the captain said. “If he owns the property, he's free to do almost anything he wants with it.”

“That sounds like a story Lauren would want to cover,” she said. “Maybe she came here from Denver to interview him.”

“Or maybe he contacted her,” Carmen Redhorse said. “He likes to use the press to communicate his demands.”

“We need to talk to him,” Sophie said again, her agitation rising. They all looked so calm and unconcerned. Couldn't they see how important this was?

“That's not so easy to do,” Rand said. “Prentice has a team of lawyers running interference between him and anyone he doesn't want to talk to—in particular, members of this task force. Unless we charge him with a crime, which we have no evidence he's committed, or subpoena him as a witness, the chances of him answering any questions we have for him are slim to none.”

More looks passed between them, but these were easier to read. “You may not believe this is worth pursuing, but I do,” she said. “My sister did not commit suicide. She wasn't crazy. And if you won't help me find her, I'll find someone who will.”

She shoved back from the table and started toward the door. Randall intercepted her. “Don't go,” he said. “We'll do what we can to help.” He looked at the captain. “Won't we?”

Captain Ellison nodded. “Start by retracing Ms. Starling's steps here in the county,” he said. “Do you know where she was staying?”

“I don't,” Sophie admitted.

“Canvass the local motels,” the captain said. “Rand, you start there.”

Sophie had hoped he would assign the woman, Carmen Redhorse, to the case. A woman would be more sensitive, and easier to work with, she thought. Officer Knightbridge, with his frightening dog and gruff manner, was just as likely to scare people away as to persuade them to help. But he wouldn't frighten her. “I want to go with you to talk to them,” she said.

“That isn't possible,” Rand said. “I can't take a civilian to question potential witnesses.”

“Fine. Then I'll start contacting hotels and motels on my own. If I find anything, I'll let you know.” It's what she should have done in the first place, as soon as she saw what a low priority the Denver police gave the case.

Once again, Rand stopped her before she reached the door, his tall, muscular frame blocking her path. She tried to duck around him, but he took hold of her arm, his grasp gentle, but firm. “We can charge you with interfering with a police investigation,” he said.

“There wouldn't be an investigation if I hadn't come to you,” she said, shaking him off. “Can you blame me if I have my doubts about how much trouble you'll go to to find Lauren? Whereas I know I won't stop until I learn the truth.”

“Take her with you to the hotels and motels,” Captain Ellison said. “The locals may open up to her. But, Ms. Montgomery?”

“Yes?” She turned to face him.

“Officer Knightbridge is in charge. Do what he tells you or we'll have you on a plane back to Wisconsin before you can blink twice.”

She glanced at Rand, whose face remained impassive. “All right,” she said. She'd play along, but she wouldn't let him stop her from doing what she thought was best for her sister. “When do we start?”

“How about now?” He opened the door and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

* * *

R
AND
'
S
 
ANNOYANCE
 
WITH
 
Sophie Montgomery was tempered by the undeniably distracting sway of her hips as she crossed the parking lot in front of him. No doubt her nose would be even further out of joint if she knew he was ogling her. Well, she didn't have anything to worry about. She was pretty, but far too prickly. And she was wasting his time. Her sister's connection to Richard Prentice was intriguing, but he doubted it would lead anywhere. Anyone could have a business card—maybe Prentice had sent it with one of his press releases touting his next attention-getting stunt. Lauren might even have had it for years. If it was important, why had she left it back in Denver?

“My vehicle is the FJ Cruiser with the grill between the back and the passenger compartment.” He pointed out the black-and-white SUV. “You can wait for me there while I get my gear.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I should follow you in my car.”

“No, you shouldn't. We'll waste too much time trying to keep track of each other. I'll bring you back here when we're done.”

She pressed her lips together in a disapproving line, but didn't argue. Even that didn't lessen her attractiveness. She wasn't actress-and-model gorgeous, like her famous sister, but she had a deeper beauty that went beyond the surface, enduring and natural, like the beauty of a wild animal.

And what was he doing wasting time musing on the attractiveness of this woman who clearly found little to like in him? He returned to the headquarters building and retrieved Lotte from the back room, where she'd been napping. As always, the Belgian Malinois greeted him enthusiastically, whipping her tail back and forth and grinning at him. At least here was a female who appreciated him. “Are you ready to go, girl?” he asked.

She responded with a sharp, happy bark. He rubbed her ears and clipped on the leash. Not that she needed it, but since Sophie was clearly skittish around dogs, he'd do what he could to keep her calm.

When Sophie saw them approaching, she turned the color of milk and plastered herself against the vehicle. “What are you doing with that dog?” she asked.

“Lotte is coming with us.” He walked the dog past her to the rear of the vehicle.

“Oh, no. I can't ride in a car with a dog.”

“She'll be in the back. And she is coming with us. That's not negotiable. Lotte is as much a part of my gear as my weapon or my radio.”

“I told you, I'm afraid of dogs.”

She looked miserable, but he wasn't going to back down on this; he and Lotte were a team. “I promise I won't let her hurt you. And she'll be in the back of the cruiser, with a grate between us. You can pretend she isn't there.”

She looked from the dog to him and back, then took a deep breath. “All right.”

Good girl.
But he only thought it—she might be insulted if he praised her the same way he did Lotte.

With Lotte safely secured in the back of the vehicle, he climbed into the driver's seat and Sophie buckled into the passenger seat. “Is this your first visit to the Black Canyon?” he asked as they passed the first of the park's eighteen overlooks into the canyon.

“Yes. I've been to Denver a couple of times to see Lauren, but we never left the city.” She gazed out at a trio of RVs in the overlook parking lot. “I'm not much of an outdoor person.”

“I'll admit the area around the canyon can look a little desolate at first, but there's really a lot of beauty here, once you get to know it,” he said.
Just like some people
. “Not just the canyon itself, but the wilderness area around it. The wildflowers are just beginning to bloom, and the sunsets are spectacular.”

“If you say so.” She angled her body toward him. “No offense, officer, but I'm not here to sightsee. I came here to find my sister.”

Right. And clearly she had no intention of getting friendly with the officer involved in the investigation into her sister's disappearance. Message received. “What will you do when you find her?”

“As soon as I'm sure she's safe, I'll go back home to Madison.”

“What's in Madison?”

“What do you mean, what's in Madison? My life is in Madison.”

“I just meant, what do you do there?”

“I'm an assistant to the city manager.”

It sounded like a dull job to him, but he wasn't about to say so. “How long have you lived there?” he asked.

“Five years.”

“Are you married? Any children?”

“That is none of your business.”

Of course not. He was just trying to make conversation. He focused on driving, both hands gripping the steering wheel. The silence stretched between them.

“I'm not married, and I don't have children. I'm not even dating anyone in particular,” she said after a long moment.

“You were right,” he said. “It's none of my business.”

“What about you, Officer Knightbridge? Are you married?”

Was she asking because she was truly interested, or merely to even the score? “The only woman in my life right now is Lotte.” It was a line he'd used before; if the woman he said it to smiled, he figured they might hit it off.

Sophie didn't smile. Instead, she glanced back at the dog, who sat in her usual position, facing forward, ears up, expression eager and alert. He understood that Lotte could be a little intimidating, if you didn't know her. After all, part of her job was to intimidate, even subdue, criminals. “She's really a sweetheart,” he said. “And she's had years of training. She'd only hurt someone to protect me.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” But her grim expression didn't ease.

“Why are you afraid of dogs?” he asked. He knew such people existed, but he didn't understand their fear. He liked all dogs. And Lotte was his best friend, not merely his working partner.

“I was bitten as a child. I had to have plastic surgery.” She indicated a faint scar on the side of her face, barely visible alongside her mouth.

He winced. “I can see how that would be traumatic, but I promise, Lotte won't hurt you. Think of her as an overly hairy officer with a tail.”

As he'd hoped, the absurd description made her mouth quirk up almost in a smile. “What kind of dog is she?” she asked.

“A Belgian Malinois. A herding dog, like a German shepherd, but smaller. She only weighs sixty pounds.”

“She looks huge to me.”

“By police-dog standards, she's on the small side, but she's an expert tracker.”

“Too bad she can't track down my sister.”

“She might be able to, if we knew the right place to look.”

She stared out the window at the passing landscape of open rangeland and scrubby trees. “Where do we start?”

“Like the captain said, we'll ask around at the local motels and hotels, see if anyone remembers her.”

“Why didn't you do that before?”

A reasonable question from someone to whom the missing person was one of the most important people on earth. “I don't want to sound callous,” he said, “but with no sign of foul play and no one pressing us on the matter, your sister's whereabouts weren't a high priority. We've had murders and drug cases and even suspected terrorism to deal with. We only have so many people and so many hours in the day.”

“Then I guess it's a good thing I came down here,” she said.

“Don't think no one cares about your sister,” he said. “Remember, that reporter has been trying to find out what happened to her. But she hasn't come up with any new information, either.”

“How do you know she hasn't come up with any new information? Maybe she didn't bother telling you because she thought you wouldn't pay attention.”

“Oh, she knows we'd pay attention. She's engaged to the captain. If she found out anything important, she wouldn't give him any peace until he followed up on it.” He glanced at her. “So you see, we're on the same side here. And maybe we'll find out something useful today—provided your sister wasn't staying with a friend, or camping out.”

“Lauren definitely isn't the camping type, and I couldn't find that she knew anyone here in town— except Mr. Prentice.”

“We've been watching his place pretty closely and we haven't seen any sign of your sister there.”

She tensed, and leaned toward him. “Why are you watching Mr. Prentice? Is it because he's...what was the word the other officer used—an agitator?”

Prentice liked to agitate all right, but Rand didn't care so much about that. Part of wearing a uniform was knowing some people didn't like you on principle. “Mr. Prentice's estate is an inholding, completely surrounded by public land. It makes sense for us to keep an eye on his place.” He hoped that was enough to satisfy Sophie's curiosity. He couldn't tell her they suspected the billionaire was using his wealth for more than investing in real estate and businesses. Their investigations had linked him, albeit tenuously, to everything from drug runners to foreign terrorists. Sooner or later, the Rangers were going to find the evidence they needed to make him pay for his crimes.