Saving Amber - Zoe Dawson Page 0,36

himself engaged. That said volumes to her now that she could think about it rationally and not react to the duplicity or the hurt his phone call breakup had caused.

It was definitely more than physical with Tristan. She couldn’t deny that she wanted to get her hands all over him, but there was something…more here.

Heat blossomed under her skin. Nope, no surprise at all.

“Let’s go to his house and see what we can find.”

Randall Mayer had an apartment in the nearby small town of Colesville. Amber wasted no time. They used Randall’s key that was found in his pants, discovered a few feet away from his body. As they walked inside, they both donned rubber gloves in case this turned out to be a crime scene. Looking around, there was no visible gun cabinet. She disappeared into the back bedroom and Tristan looked around the living room and kitchen. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing unusual. The guy had several hunting magazines on a long, black leather ottoman coffee table. Tristan picked up one with a wolf gnawing on a bloody bone on it that was titled Predator Xtreme and another one, Outdoor Life. He threw the magazines back down as Amber came out of the bedroom.

“No gun cabinet in there.”

One of the magazines slipped off the edge of the ottoman to the floor. Tristan bent down to pick it up and the toe of his boot hit the edge of the ottoman. It made a hollow sound. He froze with the magazine in his hand and gave Amber a sidelong glance. Straightening to full height, he threw the magazine onto the couch, then grabbed up the others that were there and chucked them onto the couch, too. Sure enough, the ottoman had hinges. He lifted the lid and encountered a throw and a couple of pillows. He removed them as Amber crowded him.

“What is it?”

“It could be a gun concealment bench. They’re like decorative furniture that can hide guns away from small children or thieves.”

As soon as the throw and pillows were removed, Tristan looked down into the obvious hidden door panel with a lock.

“Hand me his key ring,” Tristan said, then searched for the appropriate key. Finding the right one, he inserted and twisted the key, then pulled up the lid. The outer lid fit nicely into a groove specifically made to notch the lid and brace the cabinet open.

There was a handgun, a Ka-Bar knife and ammo in a small wooden tray suspended over four gun slots. One held a shotgun, the others were two rifles, one with a scope, and one a .22. There was one more slot that must have held a gun because it was worn where the stock and muzzle would have sat.

“There’s one missing,” he said solemnly.

“Fuel for the fire that he was the one who shot James and then tried to run me over to derail the investigation. But what I don’t understand is why try to run me over when I wasn’t even close to discovering it could have been him who had maybe shot James.”

“Yeah, but he did work in the colonel’s office and he might have believed it was prudent to get rid of you. Something could have spooked him.”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe the ammo, shells or something like that. Maybe he went back up there to cover his tracks better after he missed hitting you. Maybe he panicked and then got caught in a storm up there. It’s happened before. People don’t realize how fast they can freeze to death, even sportsmen.”

“Speaking of that, I found this renewal notice for Sportsmen Unlimited in the other room. Looks like it might be a local chapter for the organization, but I can research that more when I get back to my laptop.”

Amber and Tristan turned at the sound of the apartment door opening.

“It’s customary to wait for local law enforcement before you go messing with evidence.”

The sound of Garza’s voice grated on Tristan. He looked over to where Garza was standing, one hand on his hip and the other propped casually on the butt of his gun. Another deputy stood just behind him. Tristan was well aware of the subtle threat men like Garza wanted to project. I’m in charge. You are one step away from having my gun in your face if you do something I don’t like. I’m the alpha dog here.

Tristan had spent his whole life around control freaks, men who needed to exercise their authority