Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

S hane’s boots thudded on the tiled floor of Denver International Airport as he made his way to the customer service desk and got in line behind four others. He’d had to drive all the way to Atlanta to find a flight out to Denver on such short notice, and the airport was a chaotic mess, but at least the flight itself had been uneventful. Though he knew the department wouldn’t cover it, he’d splurged on business class and by his second Whiskey and Coke, and the ample room to stretch his long legs, he’d decided it was worth it.

He looked around, taking in the area around him. The design of the building was unique, unlike any other airport he’d ever been in. He hadn’t seen any signs pointing to car rental, but he did see a counter for customer service. He went there and got in line. Unfortunately, they had only one clerk to serve everyone and three people were already ahead of him.

The customer being waited on stomped away, looking frustrated and Shane moved up one more. The next customer was processed quickly, and then there was only one more before his turn. Shane sighed, trying to keep his cool .

He looked at his phone and saw there were several text messages from the sheriff. Trying to bring someone in from over state lines, without getting him involved as well as the local authorities was probably going to get him in an ass load of trouble, but right now Timmons was only a suspect. Shane was going to try to nicely convince him to return to Georgia, escorted, of course. At least that was the preliminary plan, and hopefully would work out in his favor so he didn’t get into too much trouble with Dawkins.

It was past dinnertime and the small meal on the plane was long ago processed, but there was no time for food right now. It was time to slip into work mode. First up, getting to the hotel Timmons was staying at.

Finally it was his turn at the counter and a young woman with a bright smile looked up at him. “Welcome to Denver International. How can I help you?”

“Hi. First time here and I have no idea where to go to pick up my car rental.”

“Oh—you have to go that way,” she pointed at the closest exit doors. “Look for a bus for your designated car rental company, and it’ll transport you to the customer counter to pick up the keys.”

“Thanks.” He turned and quickly made his way to the doors and stepped outside. The views were phenomenal from the inside but, with the crisp air in his face, it really felt like Colorado now. He found the sign for Hertz and waited with a few others.

The bus came within six or seven minutes, and he sat at the front so that he could be first off. When the bus stopped, he threw a few dollar bills at the driver and hopped off, making a beeline for the counter.

“I’ve got a reservation,” Shane said, sliding his ID and credit card across the counter. “Jeep Wrangler. ”

A youngish girl with a nametag that read Kayleigh tapped at the keyboard, her cheerful expression faltering. “Uh—it looks like we’re out of jeeps, sir.”

Shane clenched his jaw. “Out? I reserved it this morning.”

“I’m really sorry,” she said. “The system auto-upgraded you to another vehicle. Let me pull it up and see what we have here for you.”

She turned the monitor toward him. There, in all its neon-green glory, was a compact electric car that looked more suited for a theme park than the rugged foothills of Colorado.

The guy behind him chuckled.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Shane muttered, running a hand down his face.

“It’s very fuel-efficient!” Kayleigh offered, her voice overly perky.

“Maybe so, but, in my book, that’s not an upgrade. I wouldn’t be caught dead in an electric car. Do you have anything else? A truck? An SUV? Anything not electric?”

Kayleigh shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry but we’re completely booked up.”

Shane glared at her but bit back a retort. He didn’t know how they could not give him what he reserved, but what was he going to do? Arrest her?

“Fine. Just give me the keys.”

Moments later, he was squeezing himself into the tiny car, its cheery beep mocking him as he settled into the seat. The steering wheel felt like a toy in his hands, and he grumbled under his breath as he pulled up the hotel address on his phone GPS, then pulled out of the lot.

Denver’s skyline stretched behind him in the moonlight, the peaks of the Rockies rising like a wall of indifference.

The forty-five-minute drive crawled along in after-dinner traffic. By the time he pulled up in front of the Hampton Inn & Suites hotel, his patience was shot.

Inside the hotel lobby, the air was cool and smelled faintly of lavender. A young desk clerk greeted him with a polite smile.

“Hi there! Checking in?”

“Not quite,” Shane replied, pulling out his badge. “I’m Detective Weaver, coming in from Georgia and I’m looking for a guest. Cotton Timmons. Can you tell me which room he’s in?”

The clerk’s smile faltered. “I’m sorry, sir. We can’t give out that kind of information. It’s company policy put in place for our guests’ safety.”

Shane sighed, leaning in slightly. “Listen, this is official business, and I need to find him.”

The clerk shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll get my manager.”

Before Shane could respond, the manager emerged from an office behind the desk. She was tall, with dark hair swept into a sleek ponytail, and her navy-blue blazer couldn’t hide the confident way she carried herself. Her name tag read Jillian.

“Is there a problem?” she asked, her voice smooth and professional.

Shane explained the situation, flashing his badge again. Jillian listened intently, her dark eyes sharp as she processed his words.

“Let me check,” she said finally, moving to the computer. Her fingers danced across the keyboard before she straightened and turned back to him. “It looks like Mr. Timmons never checked in.”

Shane frowned. “Are you sure? I know for sure that he had a reservation.”

“I’m certain,” Jillian said. “We’re the only hotel with this name in the area.”

Shane exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling under the surface. “Alright. Any chance you’ve got a room available for tonight?”

Jillian’s lips curved into a slight smile. “We do. Let me get you set up.”

Within minutes, she handed him a key card, but, instead of pulling away, she slid a small piece of paper across the counter. Shane glanced at it. Scrawled in neat handwriting was a phone number.

She leaned in slightly, her voice just low enough for only him to hear. She wore a light scent that tickled his sense. Something floral. “If you want to grab a nightcap later, I’m off at ten.”

For a moment, Shane stared at her, caught off guard. He nodded faintly, slipping the paper into his pocket without a word.

Up in his room, he dropped his bag by the door and pulled out his laptop, settling onto the bed. He skimmed his emails, hoping for updates, but none were important enough to reply to. He opened up a document and began jotting notes.

Timmons reserved hotel room at Hampton Inn

Reserved fishing trip with Fly Guys

Didn’t check in to hotel—did he leave the reservation at Hampton Inn to throw them off?

Will he show for fishing guide?

What he needed to do was to start calling all the hotels in Denver to see if Cotton had checked in. Shit—they weren’t going to give him that information over the phone. He’d have to show his badge in person. That was definitely a snag.

He considered his options.

The most logical thing to do was to show up for the same fishing expedition in the morning and grab him there .

He picked up his phone and seeing a handful of missed calls from Mira, he dialed her number. She picked up on the first ring, her tone already exasperated.

“Shane,” she said, sighing heavily. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m sorry I missed your calls and texts,” Shane said, though the words felt hollow. “I was in the air and now I’m in Denver.”

“Denver? In Colorado?” she asked, her tone incredulous.

“Yeah. Sorry,” he said, running his hand through his thick hair. She was pissed. And rightfully so. “It’s for work and I didn’t have any notice. This investigation is complicated, Mira. There’s a lot going on that I can’t share with you.”

“That’s always your excuse,” Mira snapped. “You could’ve called me on the way to the airport. Or shot me a text. Why don’t you just admit it? You never have time for me or for this relationship. Shane, I can’t keep doing this.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand. You’re right, you deserve better than what I can give you.”

There was a long pause on the line. “You’re not even going to fight for this, are you?”

“Mira …” Shane trailed off. He couldn’t muster the energy to argue.

“Goodbye, Shane,” she said, her voice tight, before the line went dead.

He set the phone on the nightstand and leaned back against the pillows. The breakup felt inevitable, and, to his surprise, it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. He was relieved.

Soon, his thoughts drifted to Taylor. Weeks of silence stretched between them, and though he told himself she needed to focus on her health, so she could get back to work, her absence gnawed at him.

His phone buzzed with texts—updates from the sheriff and Tuffin—but Shane ignored them. Until Timmons was in custody, he didn’t trust anyone not to spook the man.

With a sigh, he kicked off his boots and stretched out on the bed, still fully clothed. He’d just close his eyes for a minute. Then he’d get up and go find something to eat. Maybe even have that nightcap with?—

Sleep claimed him before he could even finish the thought.