Cold Case Recruit. Jennifer Morey

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СКАЧАТЬ she offered and the photograph. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms....”

      “Lynden. Molly Lynden.”

      He wrote, For Molly Lynden and her daughter. I wish I would have caught him sooner.

      Handing her the photograph and pen, he asked, “How long are you in town?”

      His question seemed to startle her, but she said, “I’m staying with a friend until the end of the week.”

      Turning to the waiting security guard, “Tell my agent to arrange a dinner for me and Ms. Lynden.” And then to her, he said, “I’d like to know more about your daughter. That is...if you don’t mind.” Some people didn’t want to—or couldn’t—talk about the ones they’d lost.

      “Oh, why, that isn’t necessary, but such a nice gesture, Mr. Cage.” She took the business card he handed her. “I’d love to have dinner with you. And get to know you. You can’t know what solving my daughter’s case has done for me and my family.”

      “It’s not a gesture, and I do know, Ms. Lynden. Many times over, I’ve seen what losing loved ones to heartless killers does to people. You have my highest respect and regard. It will be my pleasure to have dinner with you.”

      “Thank you. I... I don’t know what to say.”

      “Say goodbye for now.” He leaned in. “Security won’t let you stay long.”

      “Of course.”

      He gave her a casual hug.

      When she moved away, she said, “Thank you so much.”

      “We’ll be in touch.”

      “Okay.” Her eyes glistened with emotion as she looked back with a wave.

      Watching her leave the room, he could put himself in her shoes. He could experience what she experienced. Feel what she felt. The anxiety. The despair. Several years of solving homicides had given him that dark insight, his experience in Alaska especially. A man could stand up to that only for so long before he began to break. He’d reached that point. He could no longer endure the gore, the brutality and, most of all, the senseless injustice. Call him a bleeding heart, but meeting people like Molly always brought him to his knees.

      Several seconds passed before he realized the man was still waiting for his turn.

      “I never got used to it, either,” the man said.

      Brycen had forgotten he was there, so caught up in Molly and her murdered daughter.

      The man moved to stand beside him as Molly left the dressing room.

      “You’re a detective?” Brycen asked.

      “Kadin Tandy.” The tall, piercing-eyed man handed him a business card. “I’m not here for an autograph.”

      “I didn’t think so.” Brycen took the card and read. Dark Alley Investigations. He grunted. “Are you my competition?” As Kadin’s hand moved back to his side, Brycen caught sight of a double holster and two pistols. “Or not...”

      Something about the name and the man was familiar. What was he doing here and how had he gotten by the network’s security?

      “Not everyone knows who I am,” Kadin said, not at all put out that Brycen didn’t recognize him. “I run a private detective agency out of Rock Springs, Wyoming. I’ve got five good detectives working for me and all of them are on assignment except one, but he’s expecting a baby with his new wife, so I’m scouting for more.”

      And he’d traveled all the way to Chicago to talk to...him? He must have researched many detectives. To single him out struck Brycen as both odd and a compliment. The sense of familiarity grew. He’d heard of this man before.

      “DAI’s workload has more than doubled since word got out about us,” Kadin said.

      Still stunned that the man had found him, Brycen didn’t respond.

      “We solve cold cases,” Kadin said. “Sometimes families of the victims come to us. Sometimes we go to them.”

      Brycen began to recall a story about a New York detective who’d gone private. “Wait a minute...you’re not...”

      “Several years ago, my daughter was kidnapped and murdered in New York. There was a lot of publicity on it. I moved back to Wyoming and opened DAI to fight back against criminals who’ve gotten away with murder.”

      Kadin Tandy was the man who’d opened a private investigations agency in Wyoming. Brycen couldn’t believe it. “Yes. I remember you now. You don’t stop until you catch them.”

      “No. Never. And neither do you.”

      Now Brycen understood why he’d come here, and he didn’t like it. “Did.” He started for the door.

      Kadin followed, catching up to walk beside him.

      Brycen waved off the security guard when he stepped forward to intercept Kadin.

      “At least listen to my offer.”

      “I got out of that line of work.”

      “I’m aware of that. I know all about you.”

      That stopped Brycen. He let go of the door handle and faced him. How much did he know? “You researched me? Why?”

      Kadin extended his hand toward the doors. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

      Why did he want to talk alone?

      “Here’s fine.” If this went the way he suspected, he’d tell the guard to escort Kadin out of here. But what if he knew about Alaska...?

      Well, he couldn’t possibly know all of it. Brycen hadn’t told a soul about the worst of it.

      Kadin glanced back at the guard. “We need some privacy.”

      Brycen debated whether to ask the guard to escort Kadin out or not. Not facing this would be like running, avoiding whatever Kadin would bring to light. And he’d rather not have the guard—or anyone—hear this conversation.

      “You can go now,” Brycen said to the guard, who promptly obeyed.

      Kadin closed the dressing room door after the guard left. Putting his hands on his hips, exposing the guns and appearing to choose his words carefully. “I need you to join my team.”

      Or maybe not choose them carefully. He’d come right out and said what he’d come to say. Brycen wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not. Why did this man want him to join his team of detectives?

      “I told you. I got out of that line of work,” he finally said.

      “No, you haven’t.” Kadin made a show of glancing around the spacious dressing room, over the desk and lit mirror, the tall chair for the makeup and hair prep, and racks of clothes lining one wall. The polished concrete floor gleamed and pictures of cities had been handpicked for СКАЧАТЬ