by Cindi Myers
“Oh, uh, hi.” Tessa sounded more awake, but wary. “Did you find her?”
“I did. You were right in thinking she’d hooked up with that spiritual group you mentioned—the Family.”
“The one with that hot guy, right?” Tessa snorted. “I knew it. That night we met I could tell he was really into her. That was the problem with going anywhere with Andi. All the men ended up looking at her. I might as well have been invisible.”
“The hot guy is Daniel Metwater, the leader of the group. He calls himself the Prophet.”
Tessa yawned. “I remember now. He talked a lot about personal freedom and connecting with nature and building a true family—Andi ate it all up. I figured he just wanted to get into her pants.”
“So Daniel Metwater didn’t impress you?” Kayla asked.
“He was really hot, but he knew it. I mean, he had all these women fawning over him and he acted like that was just the way it should be. And all his talk about family and connection and everything didn’t do anything for me. I already have a family, and the whole reason people build houses is to keep nature at a distance, right?”
Kayla smiled. She supposed that was one way to look at it. “Why do you think Andi was so interested in what he had to say?” she asked. “She had a family, too, and what looked like a pretty nice life.”
“She had a nice life, but lately she and her dad were on the outs.”
“Do you know why she and her father weren’t getting along?”
“Oh, the usual—he still treated her like a child, always trying to tell her what to do and how to act and how to live her life. She hated that. But that wasn’t really anything new. The senator was always a little...I’d call it overprotective. I think she even liked it sometimes, how she could crook her little finger and Daddy would come running. I saw on the news about her dad disappearing. Even though they weren’t getting along, I’ll bet Andi’s pretty upset about that.”
She hadn’t appeared to be, but Kayla didn’t bother going into that. “You said Andi and her dad not getting along wasn’t anything new, so what was different this time? What made her want to break ties with her father altogether?”
“I’m really not sure. I think it might have had something to do with the guy she was seeing last year.”
Kayla sat up straighter. “Who was that?”
“I never met him. Andi said he was an older man, and he worked for her father. It was all very mysterious. I told her I bet he was married, since he never wanted to be seen in public with her. She said it was because her father wouldn’t approve, but it turned out I was right.”
“You mean the man was married?” Kayla asked. No one had mentioned Agent Asher having a wife.
“Kayla told me he had a wife and three kids right here in Denver. She was furious when she found out—but not half as furious as her father. He fired the guy and lit into Andi. She decided she didn’t want to have anything to do with either one of them. I think that’s one reason this Daniel guy’s spiel about getting away from it all and starting over appealed to her. Did she tell you she was pregnant?”
“Yes, she told me.”
“So you can’t blame her for wanting a better life for her baby—something more peaceful. Is she doing okay with Daniel and his group?”
“She’s healthy and she seems content.” No sense going into the news of Frank Asher’s death.
“I’m glad. If you see her again, tell her I said hi. And thanks for letting me know you found her.”
“Sure.” That wasn’t the reason she had called, but it was okay with her if Tessa thought so.
They said their goodbyes and Kayla ended the call. So Andi hadn’t told her and Dylan the whole story about her relationship with Frank Asher. He wasn’t just her former lover and the father of her child, but a man who had betrayed her, in a big way. Had he hurt her enough to make her want to hurt him in return?
She stared at her phone, then scrolled to Dylan’s number. He answered right away. “Hey,” he said. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Like I’ve been run over by a truck. How about you?”
“The same. And you’re right about it being a truck, or at least we’re pretty sure.” Wind noise and the muffled rumble of traffic told her he was outside. She pictured him standing on the side of the road by the damaged Cruiser—or maybe back at Ranger Brigade headquarters in the park. “We found some paint scrapes on the Cruiser and they match up to the height of a pickup—probably with one of those heavy-duty brush guards on the front.”
“Any idea who was driving?”
“Not yet. But we’re going to keep digging. Have you given your statement to the Montrose Police yet?”
“It’s on my list for this morning. I told Officers Raybourn and Lejeune I’d stop by.”
“It would be good if you could swing by here and give us a formal statement, too. Just in case this turns out to be connected to Metwater and the Family.”
“Sure. I could do that.” She fought the urge to ask if he would be there. She wanted to see him again, but didn’t want to appear too eager. “I’ve found something else for you to dig into,” she said instead.
“Oh? Hang on a minute. Let me get where I can hear you better.” She waited while he walked somewhere. She heard a door open and close, then everything was quieter. “Okay, what’s up?”
“I talked to Tessa Madigan this morning—Andi’s friend who told me about their meeting with Metwater and the Family.”
“I remember. You said a friend of hers told you about Andi’s interest in Metwater.”
“Right. I asked her why Andi wanted to join the group—what had made her so upset she would leave her comfortable life behind. Tessa said she thought it had something to do with the man she had been dating before.”
“Frank Asher?”
“Tessa didn’t know his name. She said the relationship was very secretive. Turns out there was a good reason for that.”
“And are you going to tell me the reason or make me play a game of twenty questions?”
“Patience, Lieutenant. Tessa said the reason Andi and this guy split was because Andi found out he had a wife and three kids in Denver.”
Dylan let out a low whistle. “I guess that made her furious. But if that man was Asher, was she angry enough to shoot him and leave him lying in the desert?”
“I have a hard time believing it, considering how big a shock the news seemed to be to her.”
“Maybe she’s a good actress,” Dylan said.
“Or maybe there’s another woman you should consider.”
He was silent for a moment, then said, “The wife.”
“If I found out my husband and the father of our three children was sneaking around with another woman I might want to put an end to the relationship,” Kayla said.
“And maybe a permanent end to him,” Dylan agreed.
Chapter Twelve
Dylan stepped out to where the techs were finishing their examination of his Cruiser, which they had towed to headquarters from the scene of the accident. Simon walked over to meet him. “We got some chips of the paint,” he said, and held out an evidence bag with three black contact-lens-sized fragments. “But they’re going to be tough to match without a suspect vehicle.”
“I’m thinking we should drive out to Metwater’s camp and look for a black truck with a brush guard on the front,” Dylan said.
“We will,” Simon said. “But before we do, I have something else to show you.”
Dylan fell into step with him as they crossed the parking lot toward Ranger Brigade headquarters. Graham met them at the door. “I was finally able to pry some more information from the FBI about Special Agent Asher and what he might have been doing here,” he said.
“I thought he took personal time to com
e here,” Dylan said.
“He did, but apparently before that he was looking into David Metwater’s mob connections,” Graham said.
“The twin brother, right?” Simon said.
“Right. Maybe the picture in Asher’s car wasn’t of Daniel Metwater, but of David.”
“So you think Asher came here to talk to Metwater about his dead brother?” Dylan asked.
“Or his investigation of David turned up some dirt on Daniel.” Simon strode across the room and snatched a folder off the corner of his desk. “I’ve been digging into the files on Asher’s laptop,” he said. “Pulling off as much as I can before the Feds take it away.”
“Anything that will help us?” Dylan asked.
Simon flipped through the papers in the file folder. “Mostly they’re notes about the Metwater brothers—everything from bank account information to some surveillance footage of either Daniel or David. I haven’t figured out what it all means yet, but I will.”
“So Asher may have been coming to the camp to talk to Daniel about his brother, or because he had learned something about Daniel himself, or was just generally snooping around,” Dylan said. “Or he wanted to see Andi. He told her when he saw her in town that he had to talk to her.”
“Maybe Asher wanted to warn her about Metwater,” Graham said. “Maybe he thought she was in danger.”
“Turned out Asher was the one in danger.” Simon closed the folder. “Metwater may have decided to shut him up.”
“Where do the two guys who attacked Kayla outside Asher’s hotel room come in?” Dylan asked.
“We don’t know,” Graham said. “The guy who lived—Bob Casetti—is still in the hospital. He’s apparently lawyered up and not talking.”
Simon grunted. “When do we get to talk to him?”
“As soon as his doctor gives the okay. Meanwhile, Montrose PD is keeping a guard on his room.”
“Does this Casetti have a record?” Dylan asked.
“He’s been in and out of prison since he was eighteen, with sealed juvenile records before that. But mostly property crimes and drugs. No kidnapping or rape or even assault. This definitely breaks the pattern for him.”
“So we ought to be able to put some pressure on him and make him talk,” Simon said.
“Do you think the attack on me and Kayla last night was connected to Casetti and his dead pal kidnapping Kayla at the hotel?” Dylan asked. Getting roughed up twice in two days was too much for coincidence. “Maybe it wasn’t me who was the target last night at all, but Kayla.”
“It’s possible,” Graham said.
“Then it’s not safe for her to be alone.” Pushing back the icy fear that threatened to overtake him, Dylan pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call and tell her I’m on my way to pick her up. We’ve got a vehicle I can borrow, right?”
Graham put a steadying hand on Dylan’s arm. “I’ll send Carmen to get her and bring her here. She can give us a statement about what happened last night, and you can take over evening guard duty if you want. But right now I want you and Simon out at the camp looking for the truck that ran you off the road.”
“They’ve probably ditched it in the desert by now,” Simon said.
“Maybe, but maybe not.” Graham squeezed Dylan’s shoulder, then released him. “Keep digging. If we can find a motive for Metwater to want Asher dead, we can bring him in for questioning. And let’s take a closer look at Andi Matheson, too. Maybe she did meet with Asher and the conversation didn’t go well.”
“Did you know that Frank Asher was married?” Dylan asked.
“Why is that important?” Simon asked. “The FBI is taking care of notifying his next of kin.”
“It’s important because, apparently, Asher is the father of Andi Matheson’s unborn child,” Dylan said. “When Andi found out he was married, she broke off the relationship.”
“So she might have been angry enough to shoot him when he came around to see her,” Graham said.
“Maybe,” Dylan said. “Though we have a lot of witnesses who place her in the camp at the time he was probably shot. And she seemed genuinely shocked when she found out he had been killed.”
“We should take a closer look at her alibi,” Graham said.
“We will,” Dylan agreed. “But I want to question Asher’s widow, too. I’d like to drive over to Denver tomorrow and find out if she—or someone she might have hired—decided to take a trip to the park about the time her late husband was killed.”
“Do it.” Graham shook his head. “Usually with a murder you have trouble coming up with one likely suspect. Frank Asher had any number of people who might have good reasons for wanting him dead.”
* * *
“ARE YOU AS sick as I am of making the drive out here?” Simon asked as he steered his Cruiser onto the rough BLM two-track.
“Yeah.” Dylan slumped in his seat and tugged the brim of his hat lower to block the midday sun glaring off the rocks that lined the road. “And I hate being out of phone range if anything happens.” Before leaving Ranger headquarters, he’d called Kayla to tell her to stay put, but she had cut off his explanation, telling him she didn’t have time to talk, as she was just arriving at the Montrose Police Station. Rather than argue with her, he’d called a buddy at the PD and asked them to keep Kayla there until Carmen could show up to escort her to Ranger Headquarters.
“The captain mentioned something about you and that detective driving out here last night,” Simon said as they jounced along the road. “What was she doing with you?”
“Andi had asked to see Kayla yesterday afternoon, and I went with her to tell Andi that her father was missing. When Metwater discovered us, he invited us to the induction ceremony later that night.”
“Why involve a civilian?” Simon asked.
“Andi knows Kayla and they seem to have established a rapport. And she knows how to handle herself. She doesn’t interfere.”
“She’s still a civilian.”
“A civilian who is helping with our investigation.”
“That’s one way to look at it, I guess.”
They passed the rest of the drive in silence. Dylan stared out the window of the Cruiser, nursing his anger and annoyance, not to mention a headache from where he had hit his head in the crash last night. By the time Simon parked outside the camp, Dylan was more than ready to lash out at someone for all the trouble he’d been through.
“What do you think? Look around, or talk to Metwater first?” Simon asked.
“Look around.” Dylan led the way down the trail into the canyon. Kiram wasn’t on guard duty today. The skinny youth who was took one look at the two grim-faced officers and melted back into the rocks.
“He probably went to tell Metwater we’re here,” Simon said.
“Saves us the trouble,” Dylan said.
The camp was quiet, the heat shimmering off the rocks oppressive. The few people Dylan spotted were lying in hammocks in the shade or lounging in tents or makeshift brush-covered shelters. The two officers walked the length of the camp to the narrowest part of the canyon, where a few rattier tents and a lean-to made of old wooden produce crates were crowded among a collection of dilapidated cars and trucks. The intense sun had faded most of the paper labels on the flattened crates, but Dylan could still make out images of plump red tomatoes and green peppers.
A clank of metal on metal drew them around a tarp-covered shed to where two men dressed only in dirty khaki shorts leaned under the open hood of a black pickup truck with a heavy brush guard attached to the front bumper.
“Something wrong with the truck?” Dylan asked.
Zach Crenshaw jerked his head up, eyes wide, mouth open. Across from him, Abe Phillips held up the wrench. “What do you want with us, man?” he asked, his voice a nasal whine that set Dylan�
��s teeth on edge.
“I want to know why you tried to run me down last night.” Dylan took a step closer, backing the young man up against the truck and blocking his escape.
“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” Zach had shut his mouth and regained some of his color. He motioned to the truck. “We were just trying to get this old thing running again.”
“It was running fine last night when it forced my Cruiser off the road,” Dylan said.
“This truck hasn’t moved from this spot in a month!” Abe declared. “It doesn’t even run. See for yourself.” He beckoned them closer and Dylan looked under the hood at a tangle of wires and hoses, and what looked like handfuls of straw and other debris. “A pack rat built a nest in here.” Abe pulled out a wad of dried grass. “Ate the wiring harness and made a mess. I haven’t had a chance to get it fixed.”
“Is that so?” Simon pulled out a multitool and began scraping at the brush guard, a welded pipe cage around the front grill that seemed to have more rust than paint.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Zach asked.
“I’m collecting a sample of this paint to match with the chips we took from Lieutenant Holt’s Cruiser after someone ran him off the road night before last.”
“It wasn’t me,” Abe said. “I told you, this truck hasn’t moved.”
“Then you don’t have anything to worry about.” Simon slipped the paint chips into an evidence bag and sealed it, while Dylan walked around the vehicle and took photographs from every angle.
“Why do you people always want to hassle us?” Zach asked. “We aren’t doing anything but trying to live in peace.”
“I wouldn’t say you’re doing a very good job of that so far,” Dylan said. He stowed the camera. “Did Metwater put you up to going after us last night, or was that your own idea?”
Zach swore and turned away. Abe flushed. “I told you, it wasn’t us,” he said. “The truck’s been out of commission for weeks. I’m trying to get it running again so I can go into town.”
“And do what?” Dylan asked.
