Austin Malone,
Private Eye
By
Paige Tyler
Chapter One
Taylor Cavanaugh stared at the gold-leaf lettering on the glass door. Austin Malone,
Private Investigator, it read. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she just stepped onto the set of
one of the movie studios there in LA instead of the office building whose address was scrawled
on the piece of paper in her hand. She shook her head. Even his name sounded like it belonged in
some old, black-and-white private eye movie, she thought. How could he possibly help her find
her missing sister when the LAPD and the other private investigators she talked to couldn’t?
But she really didn’t have much of a choice, she supposed. And it was why she had come
there, so she might as well go inside and see what this Austin Malone had to say, she told herself.
Straightening her shoulders, she smoothed her hands down the front of her jeans to wipe off her
suddenly damp palms. Opening the door, she walked into the office of Austin Malone, Private
Investigator.
And felt like she had stepped back in time. A wood desk dominated the small room, and
other than the two simple chairs positioned in front of it, the only other furniture in the office
was an old leather couch along one wall. Framed black-and-white pictures hung on the wall
above it, while next to it was a plant that obviously wasn't real. And even though it was sunny
outside, the room seemed darker than it should be. Though old-fashioned, the office didn’t come
off as tacky, however. And if it weren’t for the computer sitting on top of the desk, she almost
would have believed she actually was back in some private eye’s office from the ’s.
But the dark-haired man wearing jeans and a button-up shirt seated behind the desk
definitely didn’t come out of the ’s. Spotting her from the corner of his eye, he looked up
from the phone call he was taking and Taylor felt her breath hitch as his piercing amber eyes met
hers. His gaze roved from the sunglasses perched on top of her head, down past the brightly
colored tank top and finally settled on the curve-hugging jeans she was wearing. Only then did
he tell the person on the other end that he’d catch them later and hung up.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Taylor said nothing for a moment. Austin Malone wasn’t what she had expected. For one
thing, he was much younger than she’d thought he’d be, probably in his mid-thirties. And
nothing at all like she pictured a private eye would look. Maybe she really had made a mistake
and stepped onto a movie set, she thought, because Austin Malone, Private Investigator was way
too gorgeous for some Hollywood producer not to have discovered him. She liked to think she
was immune to men who were as handsome as he was, but the truth was, she was just as
mesmerized by those chiseled features and broad shoulders as any other woman would be.
Abruptly realizing that he was still waiting for a reply, she gave herself a mental shake
and walked over to the desk. “I’m Taylor Cavanaugh,” she said. “Detective Ames from the
LAPD gave me your name. He said you might be able to help me.”
Austin Malone didn’t react to the name she’d dropped one way or the other as he
gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat,” he said, and then waited for her to take
him up on the invitation before asking, “So, what can I do for you, Ms. Cavanaugh?”
Taylor reached up to tuck her long, dark hair behind her ear. “My sister has been missing
for three days,” she said quietly. “I really think she’s been kidnapped.”
Austin frowned. “Since Detective Ames gave you my card, I’m assuming the police don’t
share your belief that your sister was kidnapped?”
Taylor’s mouth tightened. “No,” she said. “They’re of the opinion that Tiffany eloped
with her boyfriend, which is absolutely ridiculous.”
Behind his desk, Austin Malone’s frown deepened. “And why is that so ridiculous?”
“Because I know my sister!” Taylor said. “She barely knows this guy. She wouldn’t just
run off and get married without telling me first.”
He considered her words for a moment. “Sometimes, siblings don’t know each other as
well as they think they do,” he said.
Taylor felt her hackles rise. “Well, we do!” she said hotly. “My sister tells me
everything!”
Actually, Taylor and Tiffany were closer than most sisters. But that made sense
considering Taylor had been forced to raise her younger sister after their mother’s death. Their
father had already left them years earlier, so at eighteen and with no other relatives, Taylor had
been both big sister and mother to her ten-year old sister. As a result, the two had become
extremely close. And even though Tiffany had moved out when she’d started college eight
months ago, the two girls still spent a lot of time together. Which was why Taylor had been so
alarmed when her sister hadn’t shown up for their usual Friday dinner. It was also how Taylor
simply knew her sister hadn’t gone off and gotten married to some random guy. Even so, she
shouldn’t have snapped at the private detective like she had.
Behind his desk, the detective’s jaw tightened. “I see,” he said. “And what do you know
about this boyfriend?”
Taylor shrugged. “Not much, really,” she admitted. “I don’t even think you could really
call him a boyfriend. That’s what the police think he is, but Tiffany hardly mentioned him, so I
assume he’s just an acquaintance, someone she met in college and hangs out and studies with,
you know. If Tiffany had been dating him formally, then I would have met him.”
Austin regarded her thoughtfully, his amber eyes narrowing slightly. “I have to say, you
sound more like her mother than her sister,” he observed.
Taylor swallowed hard. “Our mother died when Tiffany was little, so I raised her since
she was ten,” she explained.
That seemed to take Austin Malone by surprise. “I’m sorry about your mother. That must
have been tough for you.”
She nodded. “It was hard on both of us, but thank you,” she said, and then took a deep
breath. “I prefer not to talk about it, though. I’d rather stay focused on finding my sister. This
guy’s name is Andrew Wallace and he goes to college with her. They both go to Cal State.”
“And you’re sure they weren’t dating?” Austin said.
“Not seriously,” she said. “If at all.”
He let out a sigh. “So, if your sister didn’t elope with this guy Andrew Wallace, what do
you think happened to her?”
Taylor lifted her chin. “Considering Andrew Wallace is missing as well, it seems obvious
that he took her.”
“You mean that you think he kidnapped her,” Austin said.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Tiffany never would have gone
with him otherwise. Certainly not without telling me. I’m sure of it.”
Austin was silent a moment, and then took a notepad out of the drawer. Picking up a pen,
he scribbled something on the top page. “When did you see your sister last, Ms. Cavanaugh?”
“About a week ago,” Taylor told him. “But I talked to her on the phone the day before
she disappeared, and she never said anything about going out of town, which is why I know I’m
right about this.”
Austin Malone sighed. “Ms. Cavanaugh, I’m not exactly sure what you’d like me to do
that the police couldn’t...” he began.
Taylor leaned forward in her chair. “Please don’t say you won’t take the case, Mr.
Malone,” she entreated before he could say any more. “The police won’t even start a file until
she’s been missing for seventy-two hours because they feel there’s no foul play involved. And to
be truthful, I’ve already talked to some other private investigators. None of them would even
hear me out. If you don’t help me, I don’t know what I’ll do. Something has happened to my
sister. I just know it.”
He said nothing for a long moment, and Taylor held her breath. “All right, I’ll look into
it,” he said finally. “I really have my doubts, but it’s your money. My standard fee is two-fifty a
day, plus expenses.”
Taylor nodded. She didn’t know what the going rate was for a private detective, but she
supposed that seemed reasonable enough. She’d never even gotten to a dollar amount at the other
PI firms. Not that it really mattered; she would pay any amount to find her sister. “That’s fine.”
Austin wrote something down on the notepad in front of him. “I’d like to take a look
around your sister’s apartment, if I could,” he said, glancing at her. “See if there’s anything the
police might have missed.”
She jumped to her feet. “Of course. I’ll take you over there right now.”
Austin nodded. “We’ll take my car,” he said, coming around the desk to head for the
door.
Taylor was caught off guard when the detective slipped past to open the door for her. The
gentlemanly gesture surprised her somewhat. It wasn’t very common here in LA. Maybe the
private investigator was as old-fashioned as his office suggested. As they walked down the steps
toward the entryway of the building, she couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was old
fashioned. Did he drive one of those old cars like in the movie The Untouchables? she mused.
He probably did, she thought. Maybe he even had a Fedora, too.
But to her surprise, Austin drove a very modern Jeep Wrangler, and she was almost
disappointed when there was no sign of a Fedora anywhere.
“So, did you and your sister grow up here in LA?” he asked after she had given him the
address for Tiffany’s apartment.
Taylor shook her head. “Anaheim, actually,” she said. “I still live down there, but Tiffany
wanted to move up here when she started college. I knew it was a mistake. If she were still
sharing an apartment with me, then this wouldn’t have happened.”
Austin gave her a sidelong glance as he drove. “I’m sure your sister is just fine, Ms.
Cavanaugh.”
Taylor wished she could be so certain. But in her job as a social worker in Los Angeles,
she had seen way too many girls get themselves into trouble they couldn’t get out of. She could
only hope her naïve, little sister hadn’t done the same.
Tiffany’s apartment was close to California State University, which put it right in the
heart of downtown Los Angeles, but because it was maintained by the university, it was wellkept
and in one of the better sections of town.
“Tiffany used to have a roommate, but she graduated last semester,” Taylor explained as
she let Austin into her sister’s apartment thirty minutes later.
Austin stood in the entryway for a moment, surveying the apartment. Though small, it
had all the amenities, including a living room, dining room, kitchen, bath, and two bedrooms. All
in all, Taylor had to admit that it was actually rather cozy. And Tiffany’s scholarship easily
covered the cost.
“Does anything look out of place to you?” Austin asked as he walked into the living
room.
Taylor shook her head. “No.”
She watched as Austin wandered over to the coffee table and picked up the stack of
magazines that were there. Her brow furrowed. “What are you looking for?”
He glanced at her. “Something that might give me a clue to where your sister may have
gone.”
Taylor gave him a skeptical look as she walked into the living room. “By checking out
what magazines she subscribes to?”
Austin tossed the magazines back onto the coffee table. “If one of them was a travel
brochure from wherever it is that she went, then yes.”
“Did you find one?” Taylor asked, hurrying over to the coffee table to scoop up the
magazines and leaf through them excitedly.
“I said, if one of them was a travel brochure,” he told her dryly. “None of them were.”
She dropped the magazines back on the table and gave him annoyed look. “Well, why
didn’t you just tell me that, then?”
He shrugged. “I did.”
Taylor made a face at his retreating back as he walked into the kitchen. She wondered if
the two hundred and fifty dollars a day she was paying him covered that dry wit of his or if he
threw that in for free.
In the kitchen, Austin had opened the door of the refrigerator.
“What are you looking for in there?” she asked.
“Some people throw out things like milk if they know they’re going to be away for
awhile,” he told her.
Taylor edged closer to get a better look and immediately spotted the container of skim
milk on the top shelf. “I was right!” she said. “Tiffany didn’t throw out the milk, so that proves
she must have been kidnapped!”
Austin closed the door. “Or it could mean that she just didn’t throw out the milk before
she left. It’s skim milk, after all. The stuff can barely be called milk in the first place, so it’s not
surprising that it lasts forever.”
Taylor had to bite her tongue as she watched him make his way around the kitchen,
opening drawers and cabinets, and fingering through all kinds of things. She couldn’t imagine
what he possibly hoped to find, but she made no comment as he continued his search.
Finally done in that room, Austin left the kitchen and headed for the bedrooms, only to
stop and turn back to Taylor when she started to follow him.
“Perhaps it would be better if you just sat out here on the couch and let me do my job,”
he told her.
Taylor bristled at the condescending tone in the private detective’s voice. Folding her
arms, she lifted her chin to look him squarely in the eye. “No way!” she said. “I just met you a
few hours ago. I’m not about to let you go through my sister’s personal things without my being
there.”
If she thought her words would insult him, Taylor was wrong. His expression barely
changed at all.
He regarded her coolly. “Ms. Cavanaugh, you hired me to find your sister and I can’t
work with you hovering over my shoulder demanding to know what I’m doing every second. If
you’ve reconsidered hiring me, just let me know and we
can leave.” When she said nothing, he
continued. “I didn’t think so. Now, if you would be so kind as to go sit on the couch like I asked
you to do.”
Taylor stared up at the handsome private investigator in stunned silence. How dare he
order her around like that? And in her own sister’s apartment, too! She should tell him to get the
hell out, she thought. In fact, the words were on the tip of her tongue, but for some reason, she
couldn’t make herself say them. Right now, Austin Malone was the only option she had for
finding her sister. Was she prepared to let him walk out the door simply because he was an
obnoxious ass? No, she could put up with his arrogance if it meant getting Tiffany back safely,
she decided.
“Fine!” she told him through gritted teeth. Turning on her heel, she stomped over to the
couch and threw herself down on it. Then, folding her arms and crossing her legs, she gave him a
glare.
Though Austin scowled at her obvious show of petulance, he said nothing, but instead
turned and walked into Tiffany’s bedroom.
From her vantage point on the couch, Taylor couldn’t see much of the bedroom, but she
could hear Austin moving around in there. From the sounds of it, he was looking through the
dresser. An image of Austin Malone rifling through her sister’s panty drawer suddenly popped
into her head and she frowned. Without another thought, she jumped to her feet and hurried into
the bedroom.
Austin was standing beside the bed, a small, leather-bound book in his hand. Her brow
furrowed as she walked over to him.
“What are you reading?” she asked.
He looked up from the book to give her a frown. “I thought you were going to wait in the
living room.”
She shrugged. “I was, but I got curious,” she said. “So, what are you reading?”
“Your sister’s diary,” he said.
Taylor’s eyes went wide. “Her what? You can’t read that! It’s personal!”
But Austin only turned the page and continued to read. “Of course it’s personal; it’s a
diary. Which means that it could give us a clue where she might have gone.”
“She didn’t go anywhere! She was kidnapped!” Taylor corrected. “And I really doubt
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