She sighed contentedly, crossed her legs and settled back against the plush gray upholstery, grateful that the thoughtful chauffeur had left the motor running. The air-conditioned interior of the big limo was a welcome sanctuary to the tired young woman. The neat, uniformed man had met her at the outermost gate of Stapleton International Airport and briefly explained that Sam Shults was unable to meet her, but that a car had been sent to take her to her hotel in downtown Denver. She had nodded, handed her carry-on luggage to him and let him effectively guide her through the throngs of Labor Day travelers rushing into and out of the massive airport. The hot, dry air that whooshed up to meet them the moment they stepped out onto the sidewalk was a jolt, even though Kay had been reading about the long, record-breaking hot spell that crossed the state of Colorado. It had been drizzling rain and no more than seventy degrees when she’d arrived at LAX in Los Angeles only a couple of hours ago.
