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Paul asked.
    “Yeah. Let’s head there,” she said, giving him the address.
    “When you question them, let me sit in. If either Yolanda or her boyfriend lies to you, I’ll know,” he said.
    “You sound awfully sure of yourself.”
    “I am,” he answered, feeling the weight of the lynx fetish around his neck.

Chapter Four
    Although she’d placed her small carry-on in the rear of the cab, she’d kept her laptop with her. While Paul drove, Kendra worked on the updated report she’d have to file tonight.
    They’d reached the outskirts of Hartley when Paul finally broke the silence between them. “I know you’ve been working and that’s part of the reason you’ve been so quiet, but I have the feeling that something else is bothering you. If you tell me what it is, maybe I can help.”
    “One thing at a time,” she said, closing the laptop. “Right now let’s concentrate on the operation underway.” She checked the GPS on the dash. “Turn right. Yolanda’s apartment complex should be just ahead.”
    “There’s Preston,” he said seconds later, and gestured to an unmarked police car parked behind a cable company van.
    “From that location, the complex’s vehicle entrance and exit are both covered,” Kendra said with an approving nod. “They can be blocked off in a few seconds.”
    “You can bet he’s got backup already in place too,” Paul said, and parked.
    Preston glanced at them as they approached on foot, then got out of the cruiser. “Yolanda’s apparently been traveling and got in early this morning. According to the DMV that’s her SUV over there—the green Ford with mud on the fenders. Not a blue pickup, obviously.”
    “Which one’s her apartment?” Kendra asked.
    “Two-oh-four, second floor, toward the middle,” Preston said.
    “Have you found any connection between her and Miller?” Kendra asked.
    “Not so far. I also haven’t been able to confirm the presence of a second person inside the apartment. My men are watching her, and she’s been unloading the vehicle by herself.”
    “All right. Let’s go upstairs and pay her a visit,” Kendra said.
    She led the way, walking briskly. As the three of them approached apartment 204, Kendra pushed back her jacket so that both her service weapon and badge were clearly visible.
    Paul remained beside Kendra. Preston, who’d crossed to the other side of the doorway, gave Kendra a nod. She knocked loudly, but before she could identify herself, a female voice from inside called out.
    “Hold on, Alex. I’m putting the beer in the fridge.”
    There was a clanking sound, then steps across the floor. The door opened a second later and a dark-eyed, long-haired blonde in her mid-twenties answered.
    Seeing them, her expression changed from a grin to a scowl. “Whadda ya want? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
    “I’m Marshal Armstrong, Ms. Sharpe. This is Detective Bowman of the Hartley Police Department, and I believe you’ve already spoken to Mr. Grayhorse.” Not giving her a chance to reply, she added, “We need to ask you a few questions.”
    “Show me your ID. Anyone can buy a badge these days,” Yolanda snapped at Kendra.
    Kendra reached into her pocket and brought up her ID.
    Yolanda shrugged. “Yeah, okay. So what’s this all about?”
    Kendra watched her closely. “You can start by telling us why you wanted to hire Mr. Grayhorse.”
    “What do you mean, ‘hire’? I’ve never seen or spoken to that guy before in my life.” She took Paul in at a glance and smiled. “Looks like I may have been missing out.”
    “Are you telling me that you’d never heard of Mr. Grayhorse?” Kendra pressed, watching the woman’s expression.
    “That’s right, but if you want to set us up...” She winked at Paul.
    “Where were you yesterday between four p.m. and, say, nine at night?” Kendra continued, undaunted.
    “Camping up at Navajo Lake with a friend. We spent the past three days there. The weather was cold and lousy,