Free Colorado Bodyguard by Cindi Myers Page B

would bolt out the door if either officer took a step toward him. Rand was used to dealing with people who were nervous around cops. He watched the handyman closely out of the corner of his eye, ready for trouble, but kept his tone casual. “Do you remember a woman who was staying here about a month ago, a pretty blonde, registered as Jane Smith?”
    â€œWe get a lot of pretty blondes who stay here,” Jobie said.
    â€œThis one was in 154, on the back side of the building,” Candy said. “Very classy.”
    He shook his head, his eyes half-closed. “Don’t remember.”
    â€œMaybe a picture will refresh your memory.” Marco handed him the photograph of Lauren they’d copied from Sophie’s phone.
    His eyes opened wider as he studied the picture, but he shook his head as he handed it back. “Don’t know.”
    â€œAre you sure?” Rand asked. “We think she met a man here. Did you see her with anyone, maybe talking outside her room?”
    Jobie looked at Candy. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re not in any trouble.”
    â€œIf you saw something, you need to tell us,” Rand said. “If we find out later you lied to us, it could cause trouble.”
    Anger flared in his eyes, and he shoved the picture back at them. “What’s it to you, anyway?” he asked.
    â€œThis woman might be in trouble,” Rand said. “The man she was with might know something that could help us find her.”
    â€œAlan don’t know nothing,” Jobie said. “He stays clear of trouble.”
    â€œAlan who?”
    Jobie pressed his lips together and gave a single shake of his head.
    Candy leaned across the counter toward him. “Do you mean Alan Milbanks?” she asked. “Was he talking to this Jane Smith?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œWho’s Alan Milbanks?” Rand asked.
    â€œHe’s just this guy,” she said. “He owns the fish place.”
    â€œWhat fish place?” Rand asked.
    â€œOh, you know—out on the highway, just past the airport? There’s a big sign—Fresh Seafood.”
    â€œYou go there often?” Marco asked.
    Candy flushed. “Not often. I just...I have a friend who likes to go there, and sometimes I go with him, that’s all.” She turned back to Jobie. “Was it Alan?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œAlan wasn’t the guy I saw.” Marlee looked up from her study of the tablet. “Alan is older than the guy I saw, and his hair is darker.”
    â€œJobie, did you see Jane Smith talking to Alan Milbanks here at the motel?” Rand fixed the handyman with a stern gaze.
    Jobie shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Yeah. They were standing by his car, parked in front of her room.”
    â€œWhat were they talking about?” Marco asked. “Did you overhear anything?”
    â€œNo. I figured they were just making a transaction, you know.”
    Rand and Marco exchanged a look. “A transaction?”
    Jobie squirmed. “Alan does a little dealing on the side sometimes. At least, that’s what I hear. I wouldn’t know personally.”
    I just bet you wouldn’t,
Rand thought. He turned to Candy. “Is that right? Does Alan Milbanks deal drugs?”
    She flushed. “I’ve heard rumors that he sometimes has stuff for sale. Just, from time to time, you know. Nothing big.”
    â€œBut you say the guy you saw wasn’t Alan?” Marco asked Marlee.
    She shook her head, then glanced down at the tablet once more. “I think he might have been this guy here.” She turned the tablet around and pointed to a color mug shot of a thirtysomething man with light brown hair and schoolboy good looks. “I’m pretty sure this is the one.”
    Candy leaned over to study the photo. “Cute. I think I’d remember him.”
    â€œDid you see him?” Rand asked.
    Candy shook her