Lawman with a Cause

by Delores Fossen

  Of course, nothing was going to soothe him right now.

  Over the past six hours or so, he’d managed a few catnaps while sprawled out in the chair, but it hadn’t been anywhere near a peaceful sleep. He’d had the nightmares again. Those images of Shanna being shot, and dying. But now he had a new image to add to the hellish mix.

  The photo from the medical examiner that Court had sent him.

  His brother had warned him that it was something he shouldn’t see, but Egan hadn’t exactly had a choice about that. He was the sheriff, and he needed every detail of this investigation. And now he had to figure out how to get that specific detail out of his head.

  Not only the dead woman. But also the damage that’d been done to her heart.

  Court had said they were dealing with a sick serial killer, and after seeing that picture, Egan had to agree with him. Well, unless someone was trying to trick them into believing they were dealing with a madman. If that was indeed what was happening, it was going to take some concrete evidence to start unraveling all of this.

  They still didn’t have a positive ID on the dead woman yet, but Egan thought she might be Tori Judd, the woman who received Shanna’s heart. Her heart had still been there in the woman’s body, but she’d been stabbed multiple times. The stab wounds were injuries that the medical examiner had thought might be postmortem. So, if the person responsible wanted them to believe they were dealing with someone vindictive, then he or she was doing a stellar job.

  The silver lining in all of this was the other living recipient, Irene Adair, was alive and well. Court had finally managed to track her down while the woman was finishing up a vacation with her boyfriend.

  When he heard Jordan turn off the shower, Egan went ahead and got up to start a fresh pot of coffee. He already felt wired, but he stood no chance of making it through the day until he tanked up on more caffeine.

  He poured himself a cup as soon as it was ready, but he was still on his first sip when his phone dinged with another call. Something that had been happening most of the night. This time it was Thea Morris, his day-shift deputy.

  “Some good news,” Thea greeted. “Just got back the report from the lab, and our Jane Doe was killed with a .38-caliber bullet.”

  Yeah, that was good news, and Egan released the breath he’d been holding. Since both Jordan and he had used .40-caliber ammo, it meant they hadn’t killed the woman with friendly fire. That didn’t help the woman, of course, but Egan had enough worry and guilt hanging over him without adding this to the mix. He was certain that Jordan did, too.

  And speaking of Jordan, she came out of the bathroom, and she was wearing the loaner jeans and blue top that one of the ranch hands had brought over for her. The clothes no doubt belonged to his sister because they weren’t a good fit for Jordan. They were snug, practically clinging to her body.

  Something that Egan wished he hadn’t noticed.

  While he was wishing, he would have preferred not to feel the kick from the old attraction. Talk about bad timing. Even if he’d wanted to renew a relationship with Jordan—and he didn’t—he definitely didn’t need to be reminded of why they’d once been lovers.

  She kept her attention on him when she poured herself some coffee, and so that she wouldn’t feel the need to come closer to hear his phone conversation, Egan put the call on speaker.

  But Jordan came closer anyway. “Is that Thea?” she mouthed.

  Since the bathroom was only a few feet away from where they were standing, it was possible Jordan had already heard his side of the conversation. Just in case she hadn’t, Egan filled her in. He filled in Thea, too.

  “Jordan’s back in the room with me,” he told Thea, just so the deputy would know that someone else was listening to their conversation. “The shots that killed the woman didn’t come from our guns,” he added to Jordan.

  He saw the relief go through her eyes and the rest of her. Jordan didn’t exactly relax, but her shoulders loosened up a little. “Has there been any progress on confirming the identity of the dead woman?” Jordan asked.

  “No. Still no ID,” Thea answered. “Court said we were going with the theory that this was Tori Judd, but we’re having trouble getting her dental records. Her dentist didn’t respond to our calls, but his office should open in a couple of hours.”

  True. It was nearly seven now, but even after they made the request for the records, it still might take a while for a match to be determined. “How about the check on Tori? Did that turn up anything?”

  “Nothing. San Antonio PD sent officers to her house just as you requested, but she wasn’t there. She lives alone, and her parents don’t know where she is, either.”

  Probably because the woman was dead. If and when they had that confirmed, then it would be time to start interviewing anyone who might have something to do with this. That meant starting with Kirk and Leeroy. Christian, too, since Egan had plenty of questions about the cop’s possible involvement in this.

  Whatever this was.

  It was hard to swallow that someone might be trying to make sure no part of Shanna lived on. But that might be exactly what was happening here. If so, then Kirk and/or Leeroy had to be at the top of his suspect list. Kirk because this might be a way of getting revenge for his murdering brother, and Leeroy because he was well past the grieving-father stage.

  “Kirk Paxton should be coming in for questioning in about an hour,” Thea went on. “I doubt you got much sleep last night so you want one of the other deputies or me to do the interview?”

  It was tempting to hand that off, but Egan really wanted to see Kirk’s face when he asked him about the dead woman. And asked him if he had an alibi. “No. I’ll do it. How about the search of Kirk’s place?”

  That was something else that Egan had also requested in the wee hours of the morning. Not just for Kirk but for Leeroy, too. He wanted their houses checked for any signs of that custom truck or the murder weapon.

  “The searches should be starting soon,” Thea answered. “We’re using reserve deputies for that.” She paused, and he heard the clicks of her computer keyboard. “I got the visitors’ log from the warden at the prison where Drew’s incarcerated a couple of minutes before I called you, but nothing stands out. In the past month, he saw Kirk once and his lawyer twice. He didn’t answer any of his fan mail. Yeah, he gets fan mail,” Thea said in a grumble.

  Egan knew about that, too, but anytime it came up, it ate away at him. Drew had murdered an innocent woman and nearly killed a second one, and there were sick idiots out there who worshipped him for that. He’d gotten more than a dozen marriage proposals.

  “I asked the warden to go back another two months for the visitors’ records,” Thea continued. “I know you’ve been keeping up with it, but it might be worth another look.”

  It was, especially since they had so little to go on right now.

  “Thanks,” Egan told his deputy. “I’ll be working from back here a while longer. Fewer windows.”

  Though it hadn’t been necessary to add that last part. Thea and Jordan were well aware that the gunman who’d attacked them was still at large, and Egan’s office was just off the squad room, where Jordan could be an easier target for a sniper.

  “I understand. I’ll let you know when the marshal arrives,” Thea added before she ended the call.

  “The marshal?” Jordan immediately asked.

  “I put in that safe house request. There’s a place near here, and a marshal’s checking it out now.”

  Jordan nodded and sipped her coffee, but Egan noticed that wasn’t exactly a happy look she was sporting. “You don’t think the safe house is a good idea?” But he didn’t wait for her to answer. “Surely, you don’t want to spend another night in here with me.”

  It was a simple comment, definitely nothing sexual, but it didn’t get a simple response. Jordan’s gaze came to
his, and he saw the heat again. Maybe because of the whole spending-the-night-together thing. They hadn’t done that in years, but the last time had been when they were still lovers. And he darn sure hadn’t slept in a chair back then. He’d been in bed with her.

  The memories came. Of Jordan and him. And even though they weren’t memories he especially wanted, they were better than the nightmarish ones he’d been having of Shanna.

  “Yes,” she muttered as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. “I think it’s just a knee-jerk reaction on our parts. It’s something to think about other than the fact someone tried to kill us.”

  Maybe she was right. Of course, the attraction had been around long before the attack, but it was best not to bring up that reminder.

  “As for the safe house, yes, I think it’s a good idea,” she said. She paused. “You said the marshals will be guarding me.”

  He frowned. “You have a problem with that?”

  “Maybe. Because of Christian. He has a lot of friends who are marshals. I just wondered if the one checking out the safe house is someone you can trust.”

  Egan had thought he could, but now he wasn’t so sure. “I don’t personally know the guy,” he admitted. “Do you have someone in mind you’d rather me use for this?”

  “No,” she readily admitted. Then, she huffed. “I would say private security is the way to go, but I just don’t know where the threat is coming from. If it’s from Christian...”

  She didn’t finish that. No need. Because a well-connected cop would have friends in personal security, as well. Hell. He didn’t want to hand over Jordan to someone with connections to a killer, but then he also didn’t want to keep doing bodyguard duty. It was bringing back too much of the past. Still, he might not have a choice. In the short term anyway. But he might be able to call in enough reserve deputies to arrange a protection detail.

  “Court managed to track down Irene Adair,” Egan explained to her. “She’s alive,” he quickly added when he saw the renewed alarm in Jordan’s eyes. “Her boyfriend’s an Austin cop, and he said he’d keep an eye on her.”

  “Good.” She took a deep breath and repeated that.

  “How are your stitches?” he asked, motioning toward her shoulder. Even though she was wearing a shirt, he could still see the edge of the bandage on the front of her neck.

  “It hurts,” she admitted. “I’ll take something if it keeps up.”

  He doubted that. They were both fighting to keep a clear head, which was why they were downing coffee like water. Egan finished off his cup and poured himself another one.

  “There’s no word yet on the truck that our attacker was driving,” he said. Since they were going to be trapped in the break room for a while longer, he figured he might as well get her up to speed on the investigation. “San Antonio PD and the Rangers are helping with that.”

  “What about the blanket the dead woman was wrapped in? Anything unusual about that?”

  Egan had to shake his head. “It was mass produced, but the lab might find some trace evidence on it. Ditto for the note. And no, the clown who wrote it hasn’t called yet.”

  Her fingers tightened around the cup she was holding. “And what will you do when he does?”

  “Talk things out with him.” He choked back a groan. “Of course, that might not work, but if there is some kind of demand for cash, then I can arrange a drop so we can trap his guy.”

  She stayed quiet a moment, probably giving that some thought. “That sounds dangerous.”

  It would be, but Egan wasn’t going to put too much energy into working that out right now. “The note could have been placed with the body merely to let us know that the murder was connected to us. Maybe it was even meant to scare us.”

  “It worked,” she admitted. “I’m scared.” That grip on the cup got even tighter until her knuckles were white.

  Egan touched her fingers to let her know to relax, but he quickly realized that touching Jordan under any circumstances just wasn’t a good idea. That little brush of his skin on hers was enough to send the coil of heat through him again, and that was why he stepped back.

  His phone rang, giving him a welcome reprieve. At least it was welcome until he glanced at the screen and didn’t recognize the number. His heartbeat kicked up a notch, and he put the call on speaker and hit the app to record it just in case this was from the would-be killer.

  It wasn’t.

  “I’m Detective Martinez from San Antonio PD,” the caller said when Egan answered and identified himself. “My lieutenant said you wanted us to keep you updated on Tori Judd.”

  “I did. Did you find her?”

  “No. There’s still no sign of her, and she hasn’t checked in with her parents or the law office where she works. We’re at her house right now, though. Her folks had a spare key, and they came over to let us in so we could have a look around.” He paused. “And we might have found something.”

  Egan wanted to curse because he was betting that something wasn’t good. Rather than speculate about how bad it could be, he just waited for the detective to continue.

  “There doesn’t seem to be signs of a struggle in her house,” Martinez explained. “No busted locks or indications of forced entry, but there was a letter in the trash can next to her desk. That’s why I’m calling. The letter mentions you, Sheriff McCall.”

  “I’ve never met Tori.” That didn’t mean she didn’t know who he was, though. It was possible Tori had found out about Shanna, and if so, the newspaper articles about her murder had mentioned Egan. “Did Tori write the letter?”

  “No. The return address says it’s from the Gift of Life Foundation.”

  Jordan pulled in her breath. “That’s a group for organ recipients. They can write letters to the families of the donors to thank them, and the families can write back through the Gift of Life. That way, the names and addresses of the donors’ families and the recipients are kept secret.”

  “Well, it doesn’t appear the person who wrote this letter kept his name a secret. It seems to be a reply to Tori’s letter to thank him for the heart she got. It’s short, only a couple of lines, but the language is pretty raw,” Martinez added. “You want me to read it to you or would you rather I send you a photo of it?”

  “Read it but leave out the language. I can fill in the blanks.”

  “All right. Here goes. ‘Don’t send me another letter to go on and on about how thankful you are for getting something you shouldn’t have. I don’t even want you alive when my precious girl is dead. As far as I’m concerned, you helped kill her. You, Jordan Gentry and Egan McCall.’ The person who wrote the letter signed it Leeroy Sullivan. Does that name mean anything to you?”

  Egan cursed, probably using some of the words that Martinez had omitted. “Yeah, and I’ll get him in for questioning ASAP. But just in case the letter is a fake, I want it processed for prints.”

  “Sure. Will do.”

  “You said the letter was in the trash?” Egan pressed.

  “Yes. It was a little hard to read because it had a couple of cuts and gashes on the paper. You know, like maybe somebody had stabbed it with a knife.”

  Jordan made a soft sound. A quick intake of breath. And she looked pale again. Without letting go of his phone, he took hold of her arm and had her sit back down on the sofa.

  “There’s no knife nearby, though,” the detective went on. “And she didn’t report the letter to the cops even though it does sound threatening to me.”

  It did to Egan, as well. He didn’t know Tori, but it was possible the woman ripped up the letter if it’d upset her. That was about the best angle Egan could come up with for this. The other angle was that Leeroy had found her address and gone there to take out his rage on an innocent woman who just happened to have his daughter’s heart.

  “If Tori turns up or if we find anything else,
I’ll give you a call,” Martinez assured him before he ended the call.

  Egan turned off the recorder function and was about to call Leeroy, but there was a knock at the door. A moment later, Thea opened it and stuck her head inside.

  “There’s someone here to see you,” she said. But Thea wasn’t looking at Egan. Her attention was on Jordan. “He’s a cop. And he says he’s got proof of who’s trying to kill you.”

  Chapter Six

  “A cop,” Jordan repeated under her breath. She was about to ask his name, but it wasn’t necessary because she heard the too-familiar voice in the squad room when he called out for her.

  Christian.

  Great. She wasn’t anywhere near the right frame of mind to see him, but he certainly knew how to get her attention. He says he’s got proof of who’s trying to kill you. And maybe he did. But getting that so-called proof wouldn’t be a pleasant experience. Maybe not a safe one, either.

  Of course, Christian wasn’t the only one who seemed unsafe at the moment. After hearing about the ripped-up letter in Tori’s house, Leeroy was certainly a suspect. Then again, he’d never made his anger a secret, and perhaps someone had planted the letter to frame him. Maybe someone like Kirk or Christian.

  “Jordan, you need to see me now,” Christian demanded. “It’s important.” He sounded close. And he was. That was because he’d obviously followed Thea down the hall to the break room.

  Thea stepped in front of Christian, blocking him from entering, and Egan moved in front of Jordan. Obviously, he considered Christian a threat because Egan put his hand over his gun.

  Since Christian was a head taller than Thea, he had no trouble seeing Egan and her. He also made a sweeping glance around the break room, his gaze lingering for a moment on the covers on the sofa and then on her hair that was still damp from her shower. His expression changed just enough to let her know that he was filling in the blanks. However, he wasn’t filling them in correctly because he seemed to believe that Egan and she had had sex.