Finding Shayla Read online

  Chapter One

  “On my way,” Sheriff Cayenne O’Leary barked into her phone.

  A body. A real, live, dead body had been found. And it appeared to be a homicide. It would be the first homicide in the town of Lazu, Arizona in over fifty years. Lazu, a small town of just over seven hundred people saw a lot of public drunkenness, a few brawls, and the occasional drug deal. But homicide? This was new. And Cayenne was excited to sink her teeth into it.

  Lazu was situated between Tucson and Casa Grande about one hundred miles west of I-10. Cayenne drove along a dusty dirt road she knew well. She lived not far from it, just out of town. She arrived at the scene of the crime to find two deputies standing around a prostrate male.

  “What’s going on here?” Cayenne said.

  “Ma’am, we were on our way to the dump when we saw this guy. We pulled over and checked for a pulse. There isn’t one. We didn’t touch anything else.”

  Cayenne took her hat off and wiped the sweat from her brow. It was not quite ten in the morning and the temperature was already approaching one hundred. The heat and the smell of death combined to put her in a foul mood.

  “Who have you called?” she said.

  “You.”

  Cayenne stared down at the body. Poor guy. Whoever he was, his head was bashed in. But there wasn’t much blood around him. Clearly, he’d been moved. But from where?

  “What’s your story?” she asked the dead man. To her deputies, she said, “Call Doc Potter. He’s going to have to autopsy this guy. And hopefully he’ll be able to tell us a story. Did you find any ID on him?”

  “We didn’t check. Didn’t want to disturb the body.”

  “I appreciate that. Go through his pockets, at least the ones you can access easily. Let’s see what we can come up with.”

  The man was wearing slacks and a sports coat. He looked like he’d just gotten off work and decided to nap in the brush if it wasn’t for the hole in the back of his head. It was deep, but not as bad as some Cayenne had seen in her days as a big city cop. She pondered that and was roused from her thoughts when Doc Potter, the medical examiner and coroner pulled up.

  “What the hell is this?” he said.

  Cayenne looked at the man who she’d worked with these past five years. She marveled that he was still working. She had no idea how old he was, but he himself looked to have one foot in the grave. Still, he was sharp and very good at his job.

  “You tell me,” Cayenne said.

  He took some pictures and examined the wound on the back of the man’s head.

  “Well, cause of death should be easy to determine.” He placed a plastic bag around the man’s head. Presumably to preserve the wound.

  “If only place of death were that simple,” Cayenne said.

  “I’ll help with fibers and such. As much as I can.” To the officers standing around, he said, “Let’s get him turned over.”

  They got him on his back and Doc Potter examined him further.

  “ID?” he said.

  “None,” said Cayenne.

  “What are you thinking, Cayenne? Robbery gone awry?”

  Cayenne shook her head.

  “No telling at this point.” But Doc wasn’t listening to her. He had clearly tuned her out and was examining the face of the victim. “Do you know him?”

  “Hm? Oh, no. But there appear to be marks on his neck. Like someone tried to choke him. They’re red and somewhat small. Curiouser and curiouser.”

  “Small?” Cayenne said.

  Doc nodded.

  “Whoever tried to strangle him wasn’t a big person. I’ll have more details when I get him on the table. Come on, gents, get him onto the gurney and we’ll load him up.”

  With Doc on his way and the temperature creeping still higher, Cayenne took a steadying breath.

  “Time to cruise this area looking for clues,” she said to her deputies. “Look for anything that might tell us who he was or where he came from. I want everything and anything gathered as evidence.”

  Two hours later, Cayenne was sweaty, dirty, and no closer to knowing who the victim was. She was hungry and irritated. Her men eyed her warily. She realized she’d turned into a raging bitch and thought wryly that she needed a Snickers.

  “Okay, guys,” she said. “That’s enough. Go ahead and finish your dump run. I’ll take what little evidence we found back to the station.”

  She got into her Bronco with its unreliable air conditioning and drove back to her office. She dropped the evidence bags off with Doc.

  “Have we learned anything?” she said.

  “Not yet, little miss patience. Give me time.”

  “Can you at least confirm that the blow to the head was cause of death?”

  “I’m leaning that way but need to rule everything else out. Now, get out of here and let me do my job, please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She walked down the street to the Burger Barn and wolfed down a burger and iced tea. She craved a beer and needed something even stronger. She’d had quite a day already. It was Friday, but she’d have to work the whole weekend. Normally, she was on call and went in a couple times a day to check in. But with a murder investigation, she’d have to be present and working.

  Not something she was looking forward to. Not that a murder didn’t get her adrenaline pumping. It did. But she also needed to release her pent-up steam. She decided to go to Casa Grande that night to hit a bar and get blitzed.

  ***

  Shayla Gardner finished cleaning her house. It was spotless and she smiled. She felt better than she had in years. She was single again and happy as a clam. Her house was how she wanted it and she planned to keep it that way.

  Still, no matter how hard she worked, she couldn’t make the angst go away. The fear, the knowledge of what she’d done, kept rearing its ugly head. She poured herself a glass of wine and soaked in a lavender scented bubble bath. She was smiling most of the time, feeling wonderful. Mostly. She sipped her wine and listened to soft music.

  When the water was tepid and her wine gone, she got out. She needed something more to do to take her mind off things. She needed an escape. She turned on eighties music and started to get ready.

  Shayla decided to go out. She planned to hit a few bars, maybe dance a little. Really let loose. She had earned it. She dressed in a green sundress that she knew accentuated her eyes, slipped into a pair of sandals, grabbed her purse, and headed out.

  First stop was The Watering Hole. It was a dive, but she liked dives. They were where she used to hang out. In her young, single days. Plus, there was a better chance she wouldn’t see anybody she knew there. And that was the goal. She wanted to forget her past and start anew. Whatever that meant.

  She stepped inside and waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There weren’t a lot of people there as far as she could make out. And that suited her. She’d have a few glasses of wine then head to a club to dance the night away. She smiled to herself. She liked being free.

  Shayla stepped up to the bar and ordered a Chardonnay. She tapped her foot to the music on the jukebox. She turned on her stool so she could face the rest of the bar. A few tables were occupied, and she wondered how many of the couples she saw were happy, truly happy. Or maybe they looked happy because they weren’t married. She wondered how many were married to other people. Disgusted, she turned back to the bar.

  She sipped her wine and was lost in her thoughts when she heard the front door close. She turned to see a tall, muscular man with flaming red hair walk in. She turned back to her wine.

  The newcomer walked to the far end of the bar and sat alone. Shayla watched him and heard him order a whiskey neat. It was when the stranger spoke that Shayla realized he was a she. She was a woma
n. Shayla felt something stir in her. Something long forgotten. Recognizing it as a warning, she turned away and minded her own business.

  After two glasses of wine, Shayla grew more and more curious about the redheaded stranger. She sat alone, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Shayla wondered what her story was. She’d never seen her around before. Not that she’d gotten out much the past seven years or so.

  And, tired of being stuck in her own head, she took her third glass of wine and approached the redhead. As she walked toward her, she took in the strong legs showing beneath cargo shorts. She admired her biceps visible under her blue golf shirt. And she wanted to run her fingers along her strong, chiseled jaw. She stopped. What the hell was she thinking? Then she shrugged and walked up to the woman.

  “Is this stool taken?” Shayla motioned to the stool next to the stranger.

  She stood and pulled it out for Shayla.

  “Please. Have a seat.”

  Her voice was low for a woman. It was sexy, if the truth be told. Everything about her resonated with danger and off limits. But Shayla couldn’t help herself.

  “I haven’t seen you around before,” Shayla said. “Are you new to town?”

  The redhead arched an eyebrow.

  “Is that a pickup line?”

  Shayla blushed feverishly.

  “N-no,” she stammered. “I’m just curious what your story is.”

  “I’m from out of town. I stop by occasionally because the pours here are generous, and the price is right.”

  Shayla nodded.

  “I understand.”

  They sat in silence for what seemed an eternity. Shayla racked her brain for something to say. But the stranger seemed lost in her glass of whisky. The redhead finally spoke again.

  “I’m Cayenne.” She held out her hand. Shayla shook it. It was soft and warm and strong all at once.

  “Shayla,” was all she could manage.

  “Shayla,” Cayenne said. “Nice name. So, what’s your story? And can I buy you a glass of wine?”

  “I’d like that. My story is boring. My husband left me this morning. So I’m out celebrating my freedom.”

  Cayenne arched an eyebrow again.

  “You’re not drowning your sorrows?”

  “Far from it.”

  Cayenne grinned. Her whole face softened. Suddenly she wasn’t as intimidating. She was actually quite attractive. The thought caught Shayla off guard.

  “Tell me about your husband.”

  “What’s to tell? He was your basic man. An abusive cheater. That pretty much sums it up.”

  “I’m sorry.” And she sounded like she meant it.

  “Don’t be.” Shayla waved her off. “It’s over now and I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “I hope you don’t.”

  “I won’t. And you? Married? Single? Live in lover?”

  Cayenne laughed. It was a deep rumble and warmed Shayla in ways she thought herself immune to.

  “Let’s just say I’m married to my job and leave it at that.”

  “Fair enough. And what is your job?”

  “Let’s not talk about the mundane. Let’s focus on the fun. Tell me about your dreams, Shayla. Tell me what you wanted to be when you grew up. And tell me what your dreams are now.”

  Shayla thought hard. What were her dreams of long ago?

  “I wanted to be an actress,” she finally said. “I wanted to go to Hollywood and make it big.”

  “You’re pretty enough to do that. What stopped you? And what’s stopping you now?”

  Shayla blushed again at the compliment.

  “Thank you. I don’t know. I ended up here somehow. Married and all that.”

  “But you’re not married anymore,” Cayenne said. “Why not pursue those dreams now?”

  Shayla shrugged.

  “Who knows? Maybe I will.”

  “I think you should.”

  Shayla thought about it. Cayenne, the handsome stranger, was right. Maybe she’d go to Hollywood and try her hand at acting. She could do whatever she wanted now. She was free. And California seemed much more desirable than spending another day in the godforsaken desert.

  Chapter Two

  Cayenne, who’d thought she wanted to be alone, was enjoying the company of Shayla, with her wavy, shoulder length blonde hair and her expressive green eyes. She was gorgeous and Cayenne wanted to hunt down her abusive ex-husband and teach him some manners.

  But first, she wanted to spend as much time as she could with Shayla. She’d rather do it someplace more private but didn’t want to scare her off. Patience, she told herself. Though she’d never been long on patience. She was more of an instant gratification type. But it seemed like patience was what she needed now. In both her personal and professional life.

  “Well now, you’ve been single for what? Twelve hours or so? How’re you liking it?” Cayenne said.

  Shayla’s whole face lit up.

  “I’m loving it. Absolutely loving it.”

  “What’s the best part?”

  “I’d have to say meeting you. If I were still married, I’d never have come down here and never would have made your acquaintance.”

  The words burned into Cayenne. Her libido shifted into overdrive. Could she possibly take this woman back to her motel with her? This abused woman who was married to a man? Would she be interested? Could she be?

  Patience, she reminded herself. It would all work out the way it was supposed to. If Shayla was interested, they would have the night together. If she wasn’t, they wouldn’t. Only time would tell.

  “Thank you,” Cayenne said. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “I am. Very much.”

  “As am I. Here’s to a couple of misfits.” She raised her glass and clinked it against Shayla’s now empty wine glass. Cayenne motioned to the bartender and signaled for two more. She wondered how much more Shayla could handle. She seemed fine, wasn’t even slurring her words. This was good, because Cayenne had plans for her and didn’t want her passing out before the fun began.

  A large, burly man approached them. He was weaving unsteadily but he still looked dangerous. He poked Cayenne in the shoulder.

  “We don’t like your type around here.” His words were slurred, and Cayenne decided she could easily take him down. If she wanted to cause a scene. Which she didn’t. Before she reacted, Shayla stood.

  “Jack, she’s not hurting anybody. You go sit down and leave us be.”

  “Bullshit. She’s trying to recruit you. You go on home to Robin and let me handle this deviant.”

  Cayenne motioned for the bartender.

  “I’ll pay for our tabs now.” She signed then turned to Jack and Shayla. “I’m leaving now. I don’t want any trouble. Shayla, it’s been a pleasure.”

  Cayenne stepped out into the hot, arid night. She would go to her motel, which was right across the street, sleep it off, and head back to Lazu in the early morning hours. Something made her wait though. She leaned against the outside of the bar and took a deep breath of the dry air.

  She heard the front door close and braced for an onslaught from Jack. But it wasn’t Jack, it was Shayla.

  “You haven’t left yet.” Cayenne heard the relief in Shayla’s voice.

  “I was hoping you’d come out.”

  “Well, here I am.”

  “There’s a liquor store right there,” Cayenne said. “Why don’t we pick up some drinks and head to my motel?”

  “Where’s your motel?”

  “Right next to the liquor store.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “I thought so.”

  Wordlessly they walked to the liquor store where Shayla picked out a bottle of wine and Cayenne bought a small bottle of whiskey. Cayenne paid and they made their way to the no tell motel. At least that’s how Cayenne saw it. She’d spent many a night there with many a woman. This was different though. There was something about Shayla, who might not even be interested. Who prob
ably wasn’t interested. Still, Cayenne would go as far as she could. Though she’d definitely let Shayla set the pace.

  They got to the room and Cayenne realized how cheap and cheesy the place was. For the first time, she was embarrassed.

  “Sorry. It’s not exactly the Ritz.”

  Shayla smiled.

  “It’s Casa Grande. This is probably nicer than half the homes in this pit.”

  Cayenne took the chair by the desk and let Shayla sit on the bed. They sipped their drinks in silence until Shayla finally spoke.

  “Why don’t you come sit next to me? I won’t bite.”

  Cayenne’s gut clenched. Could she trust herself to sit on the bed with Shayla? It was clearly what Shayla wanted though and Cayenne was determined to give her whatever she wanted. And then some.

  She took her place next to Shayla.

  “See? This is nice, isn’t it?” Shayla said.

  “Mm hm.”

  “Cayenne. I really like you.”

  “I like you, too.”

  “I don’t know what I want though. This is all so new to me.”

  “Tell me what you think you want,” Cayenne said.

  “I want you to kiss me. Is that okay?”

  “Certainly.”

  The butterflies in Cayenne’s stomach started flying at Mach speed. She wanted this. Dear God, how she wanted this. But she wanted to make Shayla feel at ease, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

  Cayenne looked into Shayla’s eyes. She saw so much there. Passion, for sure, but also fear, even terror.

  “Are you sure about this?” Cayenne said.

  Shayla nodded. Cayenne looked down at Shayla’s lips, full and parted. She couldn’t wait another moment. Cayenne brushed her lips across Shayla’s. Nice and soft. Sweet and gentle. She sat up straight.

  “Wow,” Shayla finally said. “Have I been missing out.”

  Cayenne laughed uncomfortably. She didn’t know if Shayla was referring to women in general or Cayenne specifically. She wasn’t sure which she hoped was true.

  “Yeah?” Cayenne found her voice.

  “Yeah.”

  They sipped their drinks again. Cayenne was about to offer to walk Shayla back to her car when Shayla spoke.

  “I’m scared, Cayenne. I want you but I don’t even know what that means. I’ve lived in terror for so many years, I don’t know what it’s like to truly want something just to want it.”