A Wanted Man (Cold Case Detectives Book 1)

by Jennifer Morey

  Disliking the affectionate touch, she stepped back.

  “Sorry, I just love your nose with those big, sexy green eyes of yours.” He chuckled. “I didn’t mean to treat you like a kid.”

  A sick feeling plunged in her stomach. Why had he used the word kid?

  Tucking her shoulder-length reddish-brown hair behind her ear, she said, “I’m going to go get ready.” Penny turned to head for the stairs.

  “I’ll let you leave on one condition.”

  Let her leave? Putting her hand on the railing, she looked back and couldn’t tell if he was joking.

  “I get to come over Tuesday night and cook you dinner. Mondays are always a train wreck for me.”

  She nodded even though she didn’t feel like it. “Deal.”

  That seemed to placate him, to put to rest any concern that whatever Penny had discovered hadn’t spooked her away.

  Going up the stairs, she ran into Quinten on the first landing, Jax’s six-foot tall, eighteen-year-old son. Quinten’s mother, only a teenager herself when he was born, had left him with Jax when she was fifteen. Jax had devoted his life to the boy and it showed. Quinten had grown into a well-mannered young man with aspirations to go far in college. She’d loved their conversation at dinner.

  “Morning, Penny,” Quinten said with a sleepy smile livening his hazel eyes. He looked a lot like his father, except younger, of course, and with wilder hair.

  She smiled back at him. “Morning.”

  “My dad down here giving you a hard time?”

  She laughed. “Not any more than I give him.”

  He passed her on the way down. “He likes you.”

  Not responding to that with anything more than an amicable look, she climbed the rest of the way up the stairs. She felt a bit of a kinship to the boy, growing up in a single-parent household like him. When she’d asked if he wanted to find his mother, he said no. She’d seen the love Jax had for him and it reminded her of how her mother loved her.

  Would a man who’d raised a son like Quinten be capable of harming young girls? It didn’t seem likely. There had to be some explanation.

  * * *

  Breakfast passed without incident, with Jax being his old self and not that weird, suspicious man who’d confronted her after her walk. But the time had passed painfully slowly and she couldn’t be happier to be—finally—home. Dumping her purse on the table in the wide, wood-floored entry, she sighed, feeling tension leave her shoulders. Her airy apartment with views from every room welcomed her. She took in the sunny city scene through the big windows along the far wall of her living room, metal and glass sparkling.

  After removing her shoes, she passed stainless-steel appliances and gray schist granite countertops of her kitchen and padded down the hall to her office. Bright green, white and gold accents made this her favorite room. She was her most creative here. But creativity wasn’t on the agenda for today. Truth was, she had no other work project going on as she’d led Jax to believe. Sitting down at her white desk, she started up the computer and began her research.

  Reading about the eleven-year-old girl disturbed her. An adorable, blue-eyed, blond-haired angel, Sara Wolfe had a big smile, and innocence radiated off her in the photos Penny found. Active in sports, she played the piano and had joined theater. She came from average parents who lived in a clean suburban home in the Sugar House area, a normal little girl who had a lot going for her until she’d been robbed of her bright, promising future.

  Penny had never aspired to be a mother, but she didn’t have to wonder what they must have gone through—were still going through. The police had only one lead, the one they’d received from a witness who’d seen the white pickup truck. The killer had so far gotten away with his horrible crime.

  Tipping her head back, Penny closed her eyes as she contemplated what to do. Tell the police. Yes, she wasn’t trying to talk herself out of going to the cops. That had to be done. She had to do the right thing. But could she find a diplomatic way of going about this? Could she find a quiet way of finding out if the truck belonged to Jax and whether he’d used it to abduct an eleven-year-old girl? He was her boyfriend, after all. She liked him—except for this morning after her walk. Before she accused him of such a horrendous crime, she had to be more certain. What if he hadn’t done it?

  Lowering her head, she stared at the last article she’d read online. The parents had contacted a private detective to help them find their daughter’s killer. The man had said he’d consider their request. Why had they asked this particular man?

  Kadin Tandy.

  She did a search on his name and found an article.

  Will Renowned Victim Rights Activist Join Sara Wolfe’s Murder Investigation?

  Intrigue made her click on the link and peruse the article. Sara’s parents had reached out to a man who’d gained noteworthiness after single-handedly solving his own daughter’s kidnapping and murder case. After the sick pedophile had been thrown into prison, Kadin quit his impressive job with New York City’s Cold Case Squad within the Fugitive Enforcement Division to start up his own private detective agency. As Penny read, she became certain the man was more of a vigilante than a law enforcement officer.

  She found a photo of him half-sitting on the tailgate of a pickup truck parked at the threshold of a dark alley. In jeans and a short-sleeved dark blue T-shirt with a logo on the upper left side, he posed with one leg planted on the ground. A cowboy hat shaded his eyes, but the camera had captured their stunning and unflinching gray intensity. Unruly black hair stuck out under the rim of the hat. A boldly displayed shoulder harness held two guns, one on each side.

  She sat transfixed by the picture, by the man. Powerful. Highly intelligent. Dangerous good looks. Those impressions and more drew her in.

  Penny read on to learn that his wife had died of a drug overdose not long after their daughter’s body was discovered. She’d apparently been unable to survive the loss of their little girl. A few months later, after Kadin had tracked down the killer, he’d opened Dark Alley Investigations in Rock Springs, Wyoming. His daughter had been kidnapped and killed in New York. Was the choice to move to Rock Springs because of that? To try and escape his unbearable pain? Kadin had lost his wife and child. His family. That kind of tragedy would forever change a man. Did anyone ever recover from something so awful? Kadin had focused his energy on private investigations of violent crimes. Each case must be a battle to avenge his daughter.

  She looked at the photo again, a sentinel in a dark alley. The imagery evoked a blatant declaration to go where most would never dare. And do whatever it took to bring perpetrators of violent crimes to justice. He needed no advertising. The media had done that for him.

  He hadn’t yet agreed to help with the Wolfe case, stating only that he’d look at the file. Kadin was probably a busy man with the reputation he had. Or would Sara Wolfe’s case be his first since his little girl was killed? Penny could well imagine how difficult an investigation like that would be on a father who’d lost his daughter to a pedophile.

  Still, she couldn’t believe he’d turn his back on the Sara Wolfe case, not with his past. Maybe Penny could sway him. She could go to him before going to the police. He could help her find out more about the truck. But just a description of what she saw wouldn’t be enough. She needed more. Proof.

  * * *

  Penny waited until later that night to drive back to Park City. The winding road leading to Jax’s house was a lot eerier than the first time she’d been here. When she reached his long, dirt driveway, she turned off her headlights and drove straight onto the one-lane, rutted road with flowering weeds growing down the center. Making her way under moonlight, she reached a clearing and spotted the house and barn.

  Stopping in front of the barn, she retrieved a small flashlight she always kept in her car and got out. Closing the
door, she put on a pair of leather gloves and looked around. Moonlight cast shadows where the meadow met the thick line of trees. Anyone could lurk within the trunks. If Jax had seen her drive by, would he follow her here? She wasn’t even sure he was still at the cabin. Most likely, he’d stayed in Salt Lake City for the workweek. She was being paranoid, and perhaps for good reason.

  Her boots crunched over the dry gravel and she heard a stream running about a hundred yards down the hill. The white paint on the house was peeling, the trim warping and falling off. The boards over the door and windows gave it a haunting look. A big cottonwood tree shaded half of it from moonlight.

  At the barn doors, she lifted the wood bar and pushed one side open. It creaked and gravity took it swinging against the side of the barn with a bang. Something scurried inside the barn and a bird squawked as though startled from sleep. She heard it fly away but didn’t see it. Checking the road, seeing no headlights or hearing anything, Penny went inside the barn. It was pitch-black in there. She flipped on the flashlight.

  The truck was still there.

  Jax must have believed her when she’d said she hadn’t gone inside. She berated herself for jumping to conclusions. He might not be guilty, after all.

  Searching the barn, she spotted the tack and went there to find something to break a window out of the truck. She found a rusting metal rake and carried it over to the passenger’s-side window. Swinging hard, she bashed in the glass, spraying the seat. She reached in and unlocked the door manually, and then opened the glove box. It was completely empty. Weird. She looked under seats and in the middle console. Nothing. It was as though someone had thoroughly cleaned it before stowing it here.

  Getting out of the truck, she began taking pictures with her smartphone. She took several shots of the dent and made sure she got the serial number in the dash and then tucked her phone back into her front pocket. She hurried from the barn, looking around before she closed the door and hooked the latch. Turning, she searched the treeline and road. A flash of light caught her eye. Someone walked through the trees with a flashlight. She could make out his shadowy form coming to a stop at the edge of the clearing.

  Walking briskly, she saw the flashlight go dark. Had Jax walked through the woods? Impossible. He hadn’t returned. Or had he...? Maybe he’d anticipated she’d come here, or at least been suspicious. Or was it Jax at all?

  Back in her car, she spun her car around and raced down the narrow dirt road. As she came to Jax’s driveway, she saw no movement around the log house and only a few lights were on.

  She made it to the highway and almost felt in the clear when she noticed a car behind her. Had whoever had the flashlight followed her? She sped up, passing a few cars and weaving back into the right lane. The car behind her did the same thing.

  Penny slowed down. The car slowed down as well and allowed more distance to separate them.

  All the way to Salt Lake City, Penny kept track of the other car, a dark Jeep Wrangler she didn’t recognize. Rather than drive home and lead a potential killer to her residence, Penny headed to the Salt Lake City Police Department. When she parked in front, she watched the Jeep zip by, darkness and tinted windows preventing her from seeing the driver.

  Chapter 2

  The short, bubbly applicant had an exhausting, fast-talking, high-pitched voice. Kadin Tandy looked past her curly hair and heavily made up face, her voice drifting off into white noise as he looked through the window of his Rock Springs, Wyoming, office. He could see part of the street and some of the oldest buildings in town, red-and-tan brick trimmed in varying colors, rooflines square and some with signs that lit up at night. Heat waves rippled on the pavement and Rosa Romero unlocked the door of her Mexican restaurant, The Spicy Habanero. Her green chili was the best he’d ever had.

  Having his office here made him feel at home—as at home as he could, anyway. He’d rented the upstairs apartment so that he could spend more time working. Dark Alley Investigations had been open a couple of months now and he’d accumulated enough cases to warrant some help. And then he’d received that call from Detective Austin Cohen, the lead in the Sara Wolfe case. He’d attempted to read the file before the applicant arrived but hadn’t gotten past the first paragraph. The little girl might as well be his own.

  Would he have this kind of trouble with every child case? He felt like a useless coward for reacting the way he did. He could help those parents. Why didn’t he? Why couldn’t he? Why did he even have to think about it?

  Because he’d seen the file detectives had put together on his daughter’s case.

  Because he’d tortured himself with those images until he captured her killer.

  Because the pain had not lessened in three years.

  He still ached with loss, still yearned for the impossible, to see and hold his little girl again, to go back to the time before her abduction and be ready to miraculously save her. Daddy to the rescue.

  Except it hadn’t happened that way.

  “Mr. Tandy?”

  Kadin jerked his gaze from the window to the applicant.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”

  The woman had to know he’d wandered off somewhere far away from this interview. “No. Thank you for coming by.” He stood, needing to get rid of her, to be alone so that he could get thoughts of Annabelle out of his head. “I’ll call you if I need to talk to you again.”

  The woman looked disappointed. People knew when they were being rejected. “Oh. Okay.” She stood up. “Thank you.”

  He walked the woman to the door and as he watched her go to her car, he spotted Lott Trumbauer getting out of his blue Jaguar. A trust-fund baby who was a fishing guide, Lott spent a lot of time on the banks of the Green River. That was how they’d met. Kadin had gone fishing and had run into Lott with a family, teaching them how to fish. They’d struck up a friendship. That was fifteen years ago.

  “Great,” he muttered. Just what he needed. More badgering. Lott had been talking to Kadin’s mom about the shocking news of his resignation and move back to Rock Springs.

  He went to his corner office next to the conference room where he’d just conducted the interview. He had a view of a side street from here. That was where he stood until he heard Lott enter. Then he turned as his friend’s booted feet creaked over the old wood floor and he stopped at the office door with a smile.

  “Nice,” Lott said. A tall, charming jet-setter with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair cut short, he wasn’t married but always had a girlfriend. They never lasted more than a few months. Kadin had attracted women like that before he married his one and only love. Maybe he still did now that he was single again and just didn’t notice. Lack of interest did that. He had too much to do, anyway.

  “What brings you to town?” Kadin asked.

  His pal stepped into the office, checking out the barren walls. “How’s business?”

  The diversion tactic told him enough. Lott had come to talk unpleasant things. “I’ve got three cases.”

  “All cold?”

  “Cold enough.”

  Lott stopped at his desk. “I saw a girl leave here in tears. Are you interviewing again?”

  “She was crying?”

  “You have a way of doing that. I can’t figure out if all your murder investigations have desensitized you, or if you’ve just installed a switch to shut off your emotions.” He gestured with his hand toward the bare walls. “Are you ever going to decorate this place?”

  Kadin grimaced. He cared about how he made people feel, and truly hadn’t meant to hurt the girl. It was an interview, for God’s sake, not the budding of a new romance. As for decorating, he’d only furnished one conference room and his office. “I haven’t had time to do more.”

  “You could make time.”

  “Why are you here, Lott? Talking
to my parents again?”

  His friend grinned but not with genuine humor. He was caught. “Your mother is worried about you. She called again.” Kadin blinked and turned toward the view. A man walked by in the afternoon, late-summer heat, a dry heat in this western town.

  “I’ll call her.”

  “She asked me to check in on you. I don’t think they understand why you moved back here.”

  His parents had wanted him to stay out East. He’d grown up in Massachusetts.

  “I lived here for ten years.”

  Lott nodded. “That’s what I told her. She thinks you’re obsessing over their deaths.”

  “And that by moving here I don’t put it behind me?” Kadin looked back at his friend, who cocked his head in a yeah-I-know gesture. “There are some things I don’t want to forget. And that’s everything I had when we lived here. Them. Before...”

  “I get it, Kadin. You should call your mom and tell her. Then maybe she’ll stop using me as a messenger.”

  Lott was like a second son to his parents. They had been around a lot more than Lott’s had. In some ways, Kadin thought his pal had learned how to live from them, and his healthy attitude about money was one indicator. He didn’t take it for granted and he valued being productive.

  “Sorry you had to come all this way,” Kadin said.

  Lott stared at him, somber. “It’s okay to be different after what happened to you, Kadin. All the people close to you want is for you to heal. Start a new life. Not forget them, just...move on.”

  Kadin just nodded, waiting for him to stop.

  After a bit, Lott grinned. “I didn’t just come to give you another lecture. I’m going down to the Green River to do some fishing.”

  Lott had frequently come to visit him and his wife and daughter on that excuse. He hadn’t just come to see them, he’d come to fish. But Kadin wasn’t fooled. His mother wasn’t the one who’d put him up to this visit. He’d been talking to his parents ever since Arielle had overdosed, checking in without Kadin knowing.