Secrets of the Lynx

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Secrets of the Lynx Page 11

by Aimée Thurlo


  “How so?” she asked. Paul’s voice drew her. She wanted to stop, hold the fetish...and him.

  “It’s said that each fetish possesses the qualities of the animal it represents and shares them with its owner,” Paul said, slipping the fetish around his neck again. “Lynx knows what others try to keep secret, and sees what’s not readily apparent. That’s why Lynx is the perfect match for someone in our profession. We have to find the truth, no matter how deeply it’s hidden. We’re also hunters.”

  “Maybe I should carry a lynx fetish,” she said. “Do you think it would work for me?”

  He shook his head. “Lynx isn’t the right match for you. One of the things Lynx does is bring you knowledge that you may have forgotten about yourself. But you have no hidden past, as far as I can tell.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I’ll tell you what, then. Give me a chance to think this over, and as I get to know you better, I’ll find the right fetish animal match for you,” he said as they reached the end of the trail.

  “Remind me never to say no to a run with you,” she said walking with him to his truck. “It’s been an amazing night.”

  “What still surprises me is that the cat allowed you to see him. That’s not the way it normally works. I wonder what he was trying to tell me.” Looking into her eyes, Paul stepped closer to her. “What does he know about you that I don’t, Kendra?”

  Everything about him enticed her and teased her senses. The fire in his eyes called to her, whispering temptation. More than anything, she wanted to feel his arms around her, to rest against his chest and enjoy the heat there.

  He tilted her chin upwards, ready to cover her mouth with his.

  Suddenly his cell phone rang, startling both of them.

  Paul cursed, moved back a few steps, and glanced at the caller ID. “It’s Preston,” he growled.

  While Paul spoke to his brother, she took a deep breath. Her body was still tingling and not from the cold. She sighed softly as she looked at Paul, wondering what his kiss would have been like. Would he have been tender at first, then rough? Would he have deepened his kiss slowly or would it have started that way?

  She swallowed hard and looked at her surroundings for a moment. She had to keep her mind off Paul and on business.

  “I have no idea where we’ll sleep tonight,” Paul was saying to Preston, “but it won’t be Copper Canyon. Things are happening here, so this is where we have to be, close to the action.”

  The realization that, in order to stay alive, they’d have to spend the night standing guard over each other put her thoughts back on track. What had she been thinking? If there was ever a time not to let her guard down, this was it.

  Paul hung up and glanced at her. “My brother suggested a motel that’s not too far from here. The owner is an ex-cop, and the local D.A. occasionally uses the place to sequester a jury or hide away a key witness.”

  “Sounds good to me,” she said.

  He brought out his truck keys and opened the doors with the remote. “You and I are up against a pro who’s getting paid for the hit. He won’t give up till it’s done.”

  As she looked into Paul’s eyes, she saw a renewed sense of caution mirrored there. As much as she wanted to prolong this tender moment with him, living to take their next breath had to take priority now.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Blue Mountain Lodge, a long, cinder block rectangular building with thirty guest rooms, stood at the edge of town. It backed up against a six foot concrete wall and could only be approached from the front and sides. It also faced a fairly busy street.

  “The local cops like this place because of the layout,” he said. “The halls are covered by security cameras. One of the exterior doors is next to the front desk, and the other is an emergency exit with an alarm. That one’s always locked on the outside after nine pm. The halls are ceramic tile, too, so the sound of footsteps carries a long way.”

  “Good,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I’m beat, Paul, so how would you feel about taking the first watch tonight? Unless I get a few hours of sleep, I may not be able to stay alert.”

  “No problem. I’m not ready for sleep yet, so I’ll keep a lookout.”

  Paul parked on the side of the building next to the main entrance. To his right was a small, attached restaurant.

  As they passed through a small glass-walled foyer and entered the lobby where the main desk was located, the husky man behind the counter grinned. “Hey, Grayhorse, how you doing?”

  “Jimmy Masters? I thought you were still on the force.” Paul stepped forward, bumped fists with the man, then turned around and introduced Kendra. “Jimbo and I went to high school together.”

  Kendra shook hands with him. Jimmy had blue eyes and dark hair. He was about twenty pounds or so overweight, but he still seemed way too young for retirement.

  “I took a fall chasing a suspect and trashed my knee. After that I couldn’t pass the physical. The department couldn’t find me a desk job because of the economy, so here I am,” he said, answering their unspoken question.

  “That’s a tough break, man. I’m sorry,” Paul said.

  “It’s not so bad. I work nights and my wife days, so there’s always someone home with the kids, and we have our weekends together. We’re doing good.”

  “I’m glad you made things work,” Paul said.

  “Word is you’re in a bit of trouble,” Jimmy said. “I spoke to Preston a while ago, and he filled me in, so I got you a room halfway down the hall on the right. With the emergency door secured from the inside, the only way anyone can approach is to walk past this desk or break in the window. The curtains are also thick enough to keep anyone from tracking you from the outside. So no worries there.”

  “Thanks. That’ll make things easier,” Kendra said.

  “I also put an extra carafe of coffee in your room, and some snacks in case you get hungry.”

  “We appreciate it, Jimbo,” Paul said. “Mind if I take a quick look at your surveillance coverage?”

  “No prob.” Jimmy gestured to a small room just beyond the open doorway behind him. “We have very few late night drop-in guests this time of the year, so I’ll be able to spot any activity right away.”

  Paul went in, looked around, then gave Kendra a nod.

  “Okay then, we’re good,” Kendra said.

  As they walked down the hall to their room, Paul gave her a quick half grin. “Good thing we’re both beat. It’ll keep us out of trouble.”

  She took a deep breath. “Paul, about what happened earlier...”

  “I already know what you’re going to say and you’re right. We’re working a case where one slipup could get us both killed. We can’t afford to get sidetracked. Maybe after it’s all said and done...”

  She didn’t answer. There was no need. It was clear to both of them that she was here to do a job. Afterwards, she’d go back to her life, and he, to his. If she could somehow manage to keep that firmly in mind, she’d be fine.

  Paul opened the door and Kendra stepped into the room. Only one bed. It was as if fate itself was determined to tempt them. “We’ll take turns keeping watch. Are you sure you’re okay taking the first shift?”

  “Absolutely,” Paul answered.

  “If you leave the room to catch up on old times with your friend, don’t feel like you have to wake me. I really need some sleep and this is a secure location.”

  “No prob,” he said.

  Kendra went to the bed, pulled down the covers and, after kicking off her shoes, crawled in. The warmth and the weight of the blankets did the job, and she drifted off to sleep.

  As her mind opened to the dreamscape before her, Kendra found herself on a hunt with a man couched in shadows, while the cries of a wildcat echoed through the darkness.

  * * *

  IT WAS 3:00 a.m., according to the digital clock on the nightstand.

  Paul watched Kendra sleep, glad to see her looking at peace. As she smiled and shif
ted her hips, he wondered what she was dreaming about and if he’d come to visit her there. The possibility played on in his imagination, making him hard.

  Expelling his breath in a hiss, Paul looked away and stood to stretch his legs. As he did, he spotted the flashing light on their room phone. He picked it up instantly, before it had a chance to ring.

  “Paul, it’s me,” Jim said quickly. “I’m not sure if what I’ve got is important, but I thought I’d pass the information along. About a half hour ago, a dark-colored pickup parked outside for several minutes, then drove away. It’s back again, and it’s now parked on the south side between the Dumpsters. I think he’s talking on his cell phone. Do you want me to call Preston and have him send over an officer?”

  “No, let me check it out first,” Paul said, speaking in a whisper. “I don’t see how anyone could have tracked us here.”

  Paul watched Kendra for a moment, listening to the even sound of her breathing. Last time he’d stepped away without waking her, she’d pulled a gun on him, mistaking him for an intruder. She’d told him that she slept light, but not tonight. The jog had done its job, allowing her to sleep soundly. She hadn’t woken up despite his brief conversation.

  He slipped out of the room quietly. He didn’t need backup at this point, and Jimbo was keeping watch and would alert her, if needed.

  The moment he was out in the hall, he used his cell phone to call Jim. “Keep a close eye on the hall and make sure no one approaches our door. While my partner’s sleeping I’m going to take a quick look around. If I get any bad vibes, I’ll call in the cavalry.”

  “Copy that,” Jimmy said, his tone reverting to that of the officer he’d been once.

  Paul was only a few steps from the lobby when he heard footsteps ahead. It was Jimmy, coming around the front desk.

  “I’ll cover the hall,” he said softly, giving Paul a nod.

  As Paul slipped outside, the cold air cut into him like an icy blade. He hadn’t worn his jacket, wanting ease of movement and free access to his holstered weapon.

  Walking quietly down the sidewalk, he passed the restaurant, now dark and silent. Once he reached the corner, Paul stopped and looked out toward the Dumpsters, which were positioned about fifty feet down the six foot high concrete wall.

  Between the two big trash bins he could see the tail end of a solitary pickup. The driver had parked at an angle so he could have a clear view of the main entrance and front corner of the building. It was a method someone with training in surveillance techniques would have used. The position concealed the driver’s face and intentions while allowing him to utilize his side and rearview mirrors to give him an unobstructed view.

  The cloud of water vapor escaping from the truck’s tailpipe told Paul the engine was on, so the driver was undoubtedly inside. He decided to move in for a closer look.

  As he inched toward the wall, screening himself with the large trash containers that also hid the pickup, he heard light footsteps coming up from behind.

  Paul turned in a crouch, pistol in hand.

  “It’s me,” Kendra whispered. “Jim said you’d be here checking out some pickup.”

  “You were sound asleep when I left. What woke you?”

  “Jimmy’s footsteps. Then he dropped his keys. I looked though the peephole, ID’d him, and got the story. Is that the pickup behind the trash bins?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “The way he’s screening himself and the fact that he’s come and gone once already...”

  Kendra nodded. “Let’s go check it out. Split up. I’ll go right, you go left.”

  “No, let’s advance along this wall using the Dumpsters for cover. If it’s our guy, he’ll be packing,” Paul said.

  “Bad plan,” she said. “If he has a gun, he won’t show it till you’re at point-blank range. I won’t see it either, not in time to back you up. Or he’ll just shoot through the door and you’ll never see it coming. Let me angle back, circle the motel, and come in from his passenger’s side blind spot. There’s no way he can cover both flanks.”

  “Go.” Paul reached the shoulder-high trash bin, weapon pointed down, and waited until he could see Kendra at the far corner of the motel. Moving quickly, he walked toward the driver’s window, and as he closed in, he studied the driver’s profile. He was sitting back in his seat, still unaware of their presence.

  Kendra continued her approach from the right and was less than fifty feet away when the driver inside the truck turned his head toward the side mirror and spotted Kendra.

  “U.S. Marshal!” Kendra yelled, crouching on one knee and bringing up her pistol. “Show me your hands!”

  The driver instantly threw the pickup into reverse, spinning the steering wheel and racing backwards straight toward her.

  “Bail,” Paul yelled, pointing toward the Dumpster.

  Kendra raced him to their only refuge, diving just ahead of him into the trash bin.

  They landed on top of a section of flattened cardboard just as the pickup bounced off the metal corner. They were tossed around between trash filled bags but avoided the sheet metal sides. Before either of them could regain their balance, they heard the pickup race away, tires squealing.

  “He’s gone,” Kendra said, pushing aside a trash bag. She tried to take a step but slipped and fell onto her hands and knees. “What is that smell?”

  Paul made it to the edge and hoisted himself up and out. “I think it’s a skunk,” he said, grabbing Kendra’s hands and helping her climb out.

  “You okay?” Paul asked, taking short breaths and fighting to keep from gagging.

  “That stench just rips the air out of your lungs,” she said, coughing.

  “We need to shower and change. Once we can breathe again, we’ll sort things out,” Paul said.

  Jim ran to meet them. “I saw what—” He suddenly turned his face away and covered his mouth and nose with one hand. “You found the skunk.”

  “Yeah, seems so,” Paul said.

  Jim took another step back. “It wandered onto the parking lot just after dark and got run over. The restaurant manager had one of his people put it into a plastic bag and toss it in there. You must have ripped open the bag when you went Dumpster diving.”

  “Lucky us,” Paul said.

  Jim curled his nose. “You’re going to need my special mixture. It’s dry mustard and a few other choice ingredients.” He glanced at Paul. “Works fast. You might want to shower together so the scent won’t spread to the curtains and bedding.”

  Paul glanced at Kendra and grinned. “Hey, it’s our duty to step up in an emergency.”

  “In your dreams,” she shot back. Not that she would have minded. The thought of seeing him naked under a hot spray in the shower left her tingling all over. “No showering together, and it’s too cold to hose off outside. What’s plan B?” she said as they approached the main entrance.

  “Paul, shower in the first room on the right. Kendra, take the one on the left. I’ll let you in, then bring you both some odor remover and plastic bags for your clothing. And work fast, will you? Otherwise I’ll never get that scent out of the hall—or the rooms. It’ll get on everything.”

  “If we’re in the shower, someone will have to stand guard out in the hall,” Paul said.

  “I’ll do it. I’ve got a concealed carry permit and my .38,” he said, lifting his jacket. “Just wait in the foyer for a sec, okay?”

  “Go get the stuff,” Kendra said.

  * * *

  IT TOOK KENDRA a full twenty minutes before she felt clean enough to finally step out of the shower. She’d used the descenter and the perfumed soap and had washed her hair several times.

  Since she hadn’t wanted to handle anything until she’d rid herself of that awful skunk smell, she hadn’t brought a change of clothes into the bathroom. Taking one of the large, plush towels, she wrapped it around herself and stepped into the room.

  To her surprise, Paul was there. She stopped in midstride and stared at him, una
ble to tear her gaze away from his loose, open shirt. She’d never seen that much of his bare chest before, and it was a sight to behold. He had the perfect build. From what she could see, he had just the right amount of muscle for her tastes and a flat stomach that rippled with raw masculine strength. Low-slung jeans sparked her imagination even more, making her wish she could see the rest. Soon her fingertips tingled with the need to touch him.

  Using all her willpower, she looked away. That’s when she saw the first aid kit on the table beside him. “Are you hurt?” she asked quickly.

  “I got a few cuts and scratches from those big staples on the cardboard box. Do you have any scrapes that need tending? I’d be happy to put on the antiseptic.” His gaze traveled over her like a slow, intimate caress.

  “I need my clothes,” she managed in a hoarse voice, suddenly remembering that her carry-on was still in Paul’s truck.

  “Jimbo brought in your things while you were in the shower. You’ll find everything in the closet.”

  She hurried to her small suitcase, started to bend over, then abruptly changed her mind. “You can either get out of the room, or put the bag on the bed for me.”

  “How about if I put you on the bed first and check you over for cuts?” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “I promise to be thorough.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart began to pound so loudly she was sure he’d hear it. “We’re in trouble, Paul. Try to act like it.”

  He gave her a heart-stopping grin. “We’re not in trouble...not yet.”

  To her own credit, she managed an icy glare. “I’m going back into the bathroom to get dressed,” she said, bending at the knees and grabbing a handful of clothes. “Afterwards, we’ll discuss what happened and figure out what’s next.”

  Kendra dressed quickly. Slacks, a plain navy blue pullover sweater and a dark blazer were practically a uniform for her these days. She chose them now, hoping to remind herself that she was never off the clock when working a case like this one.

 

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