Severed Trust: The Men of the Texas Rangers | Book 4

by Margaret Daley

  The security guard pulled up to the back of the warehouse on Sixth Street to check it out. Paul Quinn parked by the door, grabbed his flashlight from the seat, and climbed out of his car. Maybe he would grab an early lunch since he didn’t eat breakfast.

  At the door, as he dug into his pant pocket for his key to the warehouse, his gaze wandered down the long length of the building. Fifteen yards away he noticed a busted window. He strode to it, hoping it was some kid using the parking lot for a field for one of their sports. Last Saturday he’d found a group of young boys from the low-income apartments playing soccer. He’d had to chase them off.

  At the window about six feet off the ground, a gaping hole, large enough for a person to go through greeted his inspection. Too big probably if just a ball went through it, even a soccer ball.

  Paul hurried back to the door and unlocked it. As he stepped inside, he withdrew his gun as a precaution although he doubted anyone was inside the building now. More likely, a bum broke in last night to get in out of the rain that poured for a few hours.

  As he moved into the warehouse, he panned the area around him.

  Until he found a body hanging from the rafters twenty feet inside to his right.

  15

  After leaving Greenbrier, Ethan drove toward the police station while Cord wrapped up the investigation at the nursing home. Ethan had requested Missy and Carrie be brought in. The teens and their parents should be there by now. “The Eyes of Texas” blared from his phone. He answered the call, noting it was Cord.

  “I just got a call from a security company who has been checking the Adams’s warehouse since the incident. This morning a guard found a young girl there, dead. From the description he gave me, I think it’s Kelly. I’ll meet you at the warehouse.”

  Ethan turned at the light and headed away from his original destination. “I’m ten minutes away.” When he clicked off, he punched in the police station’s number and informed the sergeant to have Missy and Carrie wait and make sure they stayed.

  When he arrived at the warehouse, he saw a police cruiser parked next to a security company car near the back door. An officer stood outside with the guard, writing down something on a pad. As Ethan approached them, both of the men shifted their attention to him.

  “Ranger Stone, this is Paul Quinn. He arrived to check the building this morning at ten. He found who I have ID’d as Kelly Winston hanging from a rafter not far inside this door.” The young officer tossed his head toward the entrance. “He said this place is checked twice a day. At night and in the morning. Everything was fine last night at ten.”

  “How did someone get inside? Mr. Adams was making sure all the doors were kept locked.”

  The officer pointed down the back of the warehouse to a window that was broken. “I think that way. It wasn’t like that yesterday according to the security guard.”

  “Right. It has to be the way she got in.” Quinn turned to Ethan. “Can I go now? I have other places to check on my route. I’ve told the officer all I know.”

  “Have you got all the information?” Ethan asked the officer who nodded. “You can leave then, but I may be contacting you with more questions later.”

  After the security guard drove away, Ethan put latex gloves on and started for the door. “The police chief will be here soon. Send him in but keep everyone else out.”

  Inside Ethan paused by the entrance, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light while he took in Kelly’s body. The stale air reeked of death. The ashen color of her face drew his attention first. Then he ran his gaze down her length to her swollen dark purple legs, ankles, and feet where her blood pooled in her lower extremities, which indicated she had been there a while. Below on the floor were black flats she must have kicked off or had fallen off. Near the shoes laid a chair on its side. Where had that chair come from? When he had last been here, he hadn’t seen it. A few crates but no chairs.

  The rope used was slung over a rafter. He could see her doing that, but was the knot one she could have tied or did someone else? Kelly’s arms hung at her side, but was there evidence they were tied together recently? He moved to the girl and examined the wrists for signs of bruising, tape residue, or rope burns. Nothing. Which gave him pause. If she wasn’t bound and forced to stand on the chair, could she have killed herself?

  He went behind her and tried to see the knot. From this angle, he couldn’t tell, and he wanted to wait until Cord and the ME showed up before moving the body and processing the crime scene. He stepped back.

  His gut twisted, Ethan closed his eyes, wishing he could have found the teen alive. On the surface, it appeared a suicide, and her behavior the past couple of weeks would reinforce that verdict, but something didn’t feel right to him. She’d been missing for several days. Why the warehouse? Why now?

  Why would Kelly hang herself? There were other less painful ways to kill herself. Easier. Why not a drug overdose?

  He took in the area around the body. The warehouse had only recently been released as a scene of a suspicious death. There was little dirt and dust to help indicate footprints and the presence of others in here.

  He strode down the back wall to where the window had been broken with a big rock. Shards of glass littered the cement floor. So, someone threw the stone through the large pane, and it shattered. Ethan walked to the hole and stood on tiptoes to peer into the parking lot. A few jagged pieces of glass stood up along the bottom. He inspected them for any signs of blood. None.

  Interesting. If Kelly or whoever came through this way at night, he was surprised the person hadn’t been cut. And the culprit would have jumped to the floor and should have steadied his landing by putting a hand down. But no blood on the floor either.

  Ethan made his way outside to check the window from there. On the asphalt were pieces of glass. There shouldn’t have been that many if the pane was broken from the outside. Also, how did the person get up and through the window? There was nothing stacked under it to help someone up and into the building. If Kelly had committed suicide, how did she get into the warehouse this way without cutting herself? His doubt it was suicide grew. And if it wasn’t suicide, it was murder—a third one in less than two weeks.

  Alone in her house, Mary Lou sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed and dumped the contents of her tote bag onto the blue coverlet. Bottles and bottles tumbled all over the place. She scooped a few up in her hands and looked at their names. She had enough supplies for a while. She hit the mother lode. No more begging Dr. Wells for painkillers—at least for a couple of months. By then, she’d find another doctor even if she had to go to another nearby town or across the state into Oklahoma or Arkansas. She knew someone who could fake an ID for her. He lived in Hugo, Oklahoma.

  She reached for her glass of water, opened a bottle of painkillers, took one, then popped it into her mouth. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Everything would be all right now.

  Soon, Kelly would be found. Life would go back to the way it was. Those thoughts brought a smile to her face.

  When the doorbell rang, she jumped, sloshing the water in her glass. She set it down on the nightstand, then hurried and gathered up the bottles. The chimes sounded again. Her gaze darted from the dresser to the closet to the bathroom trying to figure out the best place to hide her stash. She quickly stuffed them between her mattresses before rushing down the stairs.

  When she opened the door, Ethan Stone, dressed in uniform, and his gun strapped to his waist, appeared every bit the lawman he was. The sight intimidated her, and she backed away a few paces. “Beth left hours ago.”

  “I know. I came to see you.”

  “Why?” They couldn’t know she was the one who took the medication. She made sure anytime she was caught on camera, her face was hidden, and her clothes were baggy. She even faked a limp. Since she was a tall woman, they wouldn’t be able to tell if the person was a lady or a man. No, it was probably something to do with Kelly. “Have you found where Kelly is?”
>
  “Yes.”

  “Where? Why isn’t she here?”

  “May I come in?”

  Her stomach plummeted. “She’s at the hospital?” She took a step back, then another.

  Ethan moved into the foyer and closed the door. He looked around. “Where’s the lady from the church who was relieving Beth?”

  “I don’t need anyone here. I’m fine. I . . .” The look on his face told her it was worse than Kelly being hurt. Her legs gave way, and she sank toward the floor.

  Ethan grabbed her and held her up. “Let’s go into the living room and sit.”

  As he helped her onto the couch, then took the seat next to her, she shook. She needed her “happy pills.” She didn’t want to hear what he’d come to tell her.

  He cupped her hands between his larger ones. “Kelly was found at a warehouse on Sixth Street earlier today. She’d been dead for a few hours.”

  No, he’s lying. He has to be. “Suicide?”

  “It doesn’t look like she killed herself.”

  “Accident?”

  “No, definitely not.”

  “Murder? How?” She lifted her eyes to his, and through the blur, she saw a flash of pain.

  “She was hung.”

  No, I’ve taken too many pills. I’m having a nightmare or a hallucination. But she focused on the grim set to Ethan’s expression. She felt the rough texture of his hands over hers and smelled the lime scent of his aftershave lotion. Too real. Not a dream.

  A sound—like a moan that morphed into a shriek—came from her mouth, and she couldn’t stop it. She yanked her hands free and buried her face in her palms. “No. No. This can’t be true. She ran away. That’s all. You’ve got the wrong person.”

  Ethan held her as she sobbed. “I can’t leave you. Who do you want me to call to come over?”

  Mary Lou pulled back, swiped at her tears and inhaled deeply. “No one. I don’t want people around.”

  “I can’t leave you,” he repeated. “Let me at least call one of your neighbors to come over and sit with you.”

  She looked at the determination in his eyes and knew she had to agree for someone to come. Then once he left, she would send the person away like she did this morning. People couldn’t help her.

  “Fine. Nancy is home during the day. She lives to the left of me.” She gave Ethan her neighbor’s phone number and listened as he called her.

  Upstairs under her mattress was the only thing that could help her forget.

  Later after Mary Lou’s neighbor came over and Ethan returned to the police station, he sat across from Missy, her father, and Colleen Stover. He guessed Jeffrey couldn’t represent everyone in this case—conflict of interest. He opened Kelly’s journal and began reading, “They aren’t anything like I thought they would be. Missy and Carrie are mean and would just as soon push me off a cliff as accept me.”

  “She is lying.” Missy came up out of her seat, her voice high-pitched. Her father put his hand on her arm, and she took her chair again. She glanced at her dad, then her lawyer. When she finally faced Ethan, calm evened out her expression. “We’re friends. We’ve been worried about her mental stability ever since Jared died.”

  Ethan bent his head over the journal and continued. “They made it clear I’d better not say a thing to anyone about the party or else. What would they do? We’re all to blame that Jared is dead.” His gaze bore into Missy. “Would you like to explain this, especially in light of the fact we found Kelly dead this morning?”

  Missy gasped, her pupils dilating. “Dead?”

  “She was hung from the rafters at the warehouse where the party didn’t take place according to you. Where were you from midnight to six this morning?”

  “She was home in bed,” her father answered.

  Ethan turned his attention to him. “And you know this how?”

  “I—I . . .” He clamped his mouth closed.

  “Why do you want to know where my client was?”

  “That’s the time that Kelly was killed.”

  “Killed? Murdered?” Missy’s pupils took over almost all of her irises.

  “We’ll know for sure after the ME does an autopsy, but the scene has some inconsistencies making me question this is a suicide. So where were you?”

  “In bed.”

  “No way to prove it?”

  “No, where else was I supposed to be? It’s a school night.” Missy set her mouth in a tight line.

  “So you never sneak out of your house?” Ethan kept his gaze trained on the teen.

  “Are you charging Missy with anything?” Colleen asked.

  “Should I, Missy?”

  “No,” she said quickly.

  “Well, here’s the deal.” He rose. “I’m going in to interview Carrie. The first person who talks will get immunity in this case. I want to know what happened to Jared, Luke, and Kelly. We’re looking at three possible murders.”

  “I thought it was a car accident.” Missy’s eyes filled with tears. “Luke murdered? Why?”

  The sound of Ethan closing the journal charged the air. “That’s a good question.”

  “I would like to confer with my client.”

  “Do that. I’ll be talking with Carrie in the other room and giving her the same deal.” Ethan gathered up the journal and started for the door.

  “No, don’t leave,” Missy blurted out, a frantic edge to her words.

  As Ethan turned back, Mr. Collins said, “We need to talk with our lawyer. My daughter didn’t do anything wrong, and I don’t like these tactics to get her to confess to something she didn’t do.”

  Ethan fastened his look on Missy. “Are you so sure, Mr. Collins?”

  The color leeched from the teen’s face. Ethan pivoted and left the room. Outside in the hallway he met Cord. “I think she’ll talk.”

  “I escorted Carrie, her mother, and Jeffrey Livingston into interview room two. They weren’t happy campers.”

  “I’m not surprised. I’m about to shake up Carrie’s life.”

  “Do you think the robbery at Greenbrier is connected somehow to what’s going on with these teens? What if one of them did it? I’ll be checking the staff’s background for any teenage kids. Maybe one of their friends’ mother works there. If they had a lot of pill parties, they might have gotten their drugs from another source. If they took too much from their parents, maybe they feared one or more might get caught.”

  “Yes, it could be connected. The pills these kids are taking have to come from somewhere, and although some are getting them from home, I agree maybe not all of them.” Ethan strode toward the other interview room. “Hang around in case Missy and her entourage decide to slip away. I know we can’t hold them, but I have a few parting words for them.”

  When Ethan opened the door and entered, all talking among the three stopped. He sat across from Carrie and went through the same journal entry as he had with Missy, but Carrie didn’t respond. At the end, her expression was cold almost as though she’d removed herself from the room.

  “Is that all?” Mrs. Bannister asked, her perfectly made-up face equally cold as her daughter’s.

  “Yes, that’s all from the journal I care to share for now.” Ethan swiveled his attention to Carrie. “But what I want to know from you is why would Kelly think you all are to blame for Jared’s death?”

  One of her eyebrows arched. “I don’t know. Ask her. She’s unstable.”

  “The problem is I can’t ask her. She was found dead this morning at the warehouse.” Ethan purposely used the warehouse, not a warehouse, to see if he could get any reaction from the girl.

  She blinked several times, but otherwise her expression, as if carved from ice, remained. “Did she commit suicide?”

  “No. Where were you from midnight to six this morning?”

  “Home in bed. I’m worthless without at least eight hours of sleep.”

  “In other words, no one can verify where you were?”

  Carrie lifted her chin. �
��I’m in the gifted program at school. If I had done something wrong, believe me, I would have had an alibi.”

  “There have been three murders.”

  “Who else?” Carrie twirled the end of her long brown hair around her finger.

  “Luke.”

  “Luke? He was in a car wreck.”

  “Full of tranquilizers, his water bottle laced like Lexie’s. They released the autopsy this morning. I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Missy. The first one to talk about what went on the night Jared died, as well as what has been going on recently in connection with Kelly and Luke, will get immunity in the case.”

  Jeffrey leaned forward to say something, but Carrie flashed her lawyer a look and said, “Then this is over with. I have nothing to tell you. And neither does Missy. I’ve seen this technique on TV. Divide and conquer. It won’t work in this case because we’re innocent. We have nothing to hide.” Carrie rose, the sound of the chair scraping over the floor echoing through the room.

  As Carrie and her mother filed out into the hallway, Jeffrey paused. “If you want to question Carrie, contact me. I’ll arrange it. She won’t be talking to you without me present.”

  Ethan watched Carrie stroll away. At the end of the corridor, she glanced at him, her phone in her hand, her fingers flying over the tiny keyboard. She grinned, then disappeared from view.

  Ethan charged into the interview room Missy was in. The teenage girl read a message on her phone, then looked up when he closed the door. She pocketed her cell, leaned over to her lawyer, and whispered something.

  Colleen stood. “My client doesn’t have anything further to say. We’re leaving. Good day, Ranger Stone.”

  As they walked out of the room, Ethan said to Missy, “Take a good hard look at your friends. Someone in your group is playing hardball. If it isn’t you, are you sure you’re safe? Do you know what’s really going on?”