Texas Ranger Showdown

by Margaret Daley

  As he entered his brother’s bedroom, lit dimly by a single lamp, his gaze went immediately to the bed. Sean had turned over onto his back, half the covers thrown off him. His chest rose and fell gently. He looked peaceful now.

  Ian sank into the lounge chair. Tired but not sleepy, he reclined and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t want his brother to wake up alone. Something was wrong with Sean. The first thing he would do was persuade his brother to see a doctor. The man in the bed wasn’t anything like he used to be. They had been close growing up. What had happened?

  The bed creaked.

  Ian opened his eyes to find Sean wrestling with his sheets. He immediately stood and hurried to his brother.

  The thrashing increased.

  Ian grabbed his shoulders and held him still. “Sean? Sean, what’s wrong?”

  “Why, Jane?” tore from Sean’s mouth in anguish.

  Did his brother even know she’d been killed? The news didn’t carry her death until the afternoon, and according to Alice, Sean had been holed up in his room.

  “Jane!”

  “Sean, wake up.”

  Sean’s eyes bolted open and stared up at Ian. Then his brother blinked and yanked himself away from Ian.

  “What are you doing here?” Sean asked in a clear, coherent voice, roughened with anger.

  “Making sure you’re all right after hitting your head.” Ian straightened but stayed at the side of the bed. “Why were you calling Jane?”

  Sean’s forehead scrunched. “I don’t know.” He pulled the sheet up and over his shoulders, then rolled over partway until his back was to Ian. “Go home. I’m fine.”

  “I’m not leaving.” He stood by the bed, waiting for his brother to say something more.

  After five minutes, Ian circled to the other side to find Sean was asleep—or at least he thought he was. Ian returned to the lounge chair. He was staying, no matter what his brother said. This was his ranch too, and his brother needed him.

  As the hour passed, Ian’s eyelids became heavier and soon he fell sleep.

  Four chimes sounded through the house.

  Ian jerked awake. When he looked toward the bed, it was empty.

  Where was Sean?

  He scrambled to his feet, rushed into the hallway and searched every room except Alice’s. Then he headed outside and went to the barn. No sign of Sean.

  Was his truck still at the ranch?

  Ian jogged to the garage and stared at the empty place where Sean’s truck should have been. His brother was in no condition to drive.

  Why did he leave? More importantly, where did he go, and why did he say Jane’s name last night?

  * * *

  Wearing the same clothes as yesterday, Caitlyn couldn’t wait to get home, take a shower and change her outfit. She entered the kitchen where she heard Emma and Granny talking. The scent of coffee spiked the air, and she desperately needed caffeine. She hadn’t slept well last night.

  “Good morning.” Caitlyn crossed to the counter and filled a mug with her grandma’s special brew. “I wish I could stay, but I have to go by my house before the office.”

  “You should eat breakfast.” Granny rose. “I can fix you something. Scrambled eggs with cheese is high in protein and fast to cook.”

  “Sorry. A shower is what I need. I’ll grab an egg burrito on the way to work.” She kissed Granny’s cheek then Emma’s. “I’ll return your mug later today.”

  Before they tried to persuade her to stay, Caitlyn hurried outside into the crisp air. She unlocked her Thunderbird, slipped behind the steering wheel and backed out of the driveway. After yesterday, she would always lock her car and put the top up, even if it was at her grandmother’s or her own house.

  With the distance only three miles to her place, she pulled up to her home six minutes later, looking forward to a hot shower to chase away the early-morning chill. She walked up the sidewalk to her redbrick town house. She dug into her purse for her house keys.

  When she retrieved them, she glanced up and opened her door. Inside, she turned to shut it and froze. Pinned to the wood with a knife was a photo of a prone woman with her arms folded across her chest—just like the one of Jane.

  FOUR

  For a few seconds paralysis held Caitlyn in its grip, making it difficult to breathe.

  What if the killer is still here?

  The question prodded her to move—fast. She fumbled for the doorknob, turned it and fled her house. When she sat behind her steering wheel with the doors locked and the key in the ignition, she finally dug into her purse and withdrew her cell phone. Her hand shook as she punched in Ian’s number. Her attention focused on her surroundings in case...

  “Hi, Caitlyn. I’m on my way to your grandmother’s house. Are you there?”

  Ian’s voice sent a surge of relief that she could get hold of him. She inhaled a deep breath then said, “No. He was in my house. Could still be there.”

  “Who?”

  “The killer.” She rushed through her explanation of what she’d found pinned to her door. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

  “Where are you?”

  “In my driveway in my locked car.”

  “I’m not far away. Leave right now. I’ll check your place.”

  “I’ll start the car, but I’m not leaving. If he’s still inside, I hope you can trap him. I want him to know I’m watching.” She turned the key in the ignition.

  “I’d argue with you, but I’m five minutes away. I’m placing you on hold while I call this in, then I’ll be back.”

  The time she waited for him to return to her call seemed like ten minutes. Her heartbeat still pounded rapidly, its pulsating beat echoing in her ears.

  “Caitlyn, are you still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you recognize the woman in the photo?”

  She tried to picture the body. For a few seconds, she thought it was another picture of Jane, but it wasn’t. A chill flashed up her body. “It’s Kelli Williams. She’s a patient of mine.” The realization that Kelli was a victim, most likely connected to Jane’s murder, sent a shudder down her, robbing her of any more words.

  A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and slammed her heart rate into overdrive. Her cell phone slipped from her fingers. She plunged her hand into her purse and withdrew her gun.

  * * *

  “I’m turning onto your street. Backup is right behind me.” At the far end of Blue Bonnet Lane, Ian glimpsed the rear of the Thunderbird but, because of the neighbor’s hedge, he couldn’t see the whole car or Caitlyn in it.

  It sounded as though the cell phone had been dropped—then silence.

  “Caitlyn, are you all right?” Several seconds passed. “Are you okay?” he shouted into his phone.

  Thoughts that the killer had her iced his blood. Fear dominated him, but he couldn’t let it. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.

  As he closed the distance between them, Ian increased his speed. Seconds later, he slammed on his brakes and stopped right behind her car. Caitlyn wasn’t in her vehicle. As he hopped from his SUV, he drew his gun, his gaze sweeping the area, then returning to the red Thunderbird.

  Caitlyn popped up behind the steering wheel, holding her phone to her ear and threw a glance over her shoulder.

  Relief surged through Ian, and he marched toward the driver’s-side door and wrenched it open. She scrambled from her car while his gaze traveled down her length. Slowly his heartbeat returned to normal, but then he caught sight of a gun in her hand.

  “What happened? I thought—”

  Before he could finish what he was going to say, she threw her arms around him. Her body shook against him. While scanning the yard, he pressed her even closer and cherished the feel of her in his embrace—safe. Her spicy scent teased his
nose, and he took several deep breaths.

  Finally, her trembling subsided, and Ian leaned back to look into her face. Again he asked, “What happened?”

  “I saw something moving out the corner of my eye, and I quickly reached for my purse where I keep this.” She held up her small gun. “I looked around and only saw my neighbor’s tomcat, so I searched for my cell I’d dropped. It had slipped under the passenger’s seat. When I sat up, you’d pulled up behind me. I’ve never been so glad to see someone.”

  “Me too. I was imagining all kinds of things.” He glanced at two patrol cars arriving, sobering him to the reason Caitlyn had called him. “I’m going inside with one of the officers, while the other stays outside with you.”

  Caitlyn looked at the two policemen approaching, leaned closer to Ian and whispered, “I’d rather go with you. They can’t have been on the force very long.”

  The urge to shelter and protect her inundated Ian. He was used to doing that but not with someone he cared about. He couldn’t shake the fear that had swamped him, threatening his ability to do his job when he thought she’d been taken by the killer. He couldn’t let personal feelings interfere with his professional duties. In his job, he’d always been able to separate the two, but he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to with this case. “You’ll be safer out here.” He plucked the gun from her hand. “Without this.”

  “When I bought this gun in college, I took lessons. I know how to shoot, and I have a license to carry.”

  “But it makes police nervous.” After slipping the small weapon into his pocket, Ian motioned for the two officers to join him.

  “I want it back. It’s for my protection.”

  The frantic ring to her words made Ian pause. “Protection? I’m here to help you.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Had something happened to Caitlyn? “I will. Let me check your house out first.”

  She nodded.

  When the officers joined them, Ian told them about the photo inside, then he had one of the officers escort Caitlyn to the patrol car, while he walked with the second one to the front porch to collect the evidence and clear the town house. They both donned latex gloves.

  Every scent sharpened as he entered Caitlyn’s home. Clearing a place where a suspect might be hiding was dangerous. When he closed the door and spied the photo, he pulled out a couple of evidence bags and dropped the switchblade into one. Then, after studying the woman in the photo, he placed the image into the other bag. He noticed on the back of the picture were the words Stop me! written in red.

  “Let’s clear the house, then call the police chief. I’m working with the sheriff on a case that’s connected to this photo.” Ian went first, with the officer protecting his back.

  Where was Kelli Williams’s body? The killer had murdered Jane somewhere different from where she’d been dumped. The photo of her in Caitlyn’s car had been staged just like Kelli’s was. A serial killer? What other things did Jane and Kelli have in common, besides being Caitlyn’s patient? Why was he leaving these pictures for Caitlyn? Was she going to be next?

  * * *

  Caitlyn sat in the front passenger seat while the young policeman stood guard by the hood, his hand near his weapon. The sight reinforced how dangerous the situation was. What if the killer was still inside? Each minute she waited for Ian and the other officer to emerge seemed like a lifetime.

  She was supposed to have had a session with Kelli this afternoon. So much had happened since yesterday, when the killer called in. Would he again? Was there a way she could stop the murders? Could she persuade him to turn himself in? What if she couldn’t and another person was killed?

  I don’t want this burden.

  As the front door opened, Caitlyn sat up straight, her hands clenched in her lap. The officer appeared first, then Ian, talking to someone on his cell phone. She scrambled from the patrol car and headed for him.

  Ian stopped halfway across the yard, finished his call, then slipped his phone into his pocket. She couldn’t read anything in his expression. Her attention fell on the two evidence bags he held. As much as she wished this whole incident had been a dream, the sacks declared otherwise.

  “No one was inside?” she asked, although she knew the answer.

  He shook his head. “I saw how he got into your house, though. He broke a window in the back door and unlocked it. Your security system was disabled. It’s an old system. You need to upgrade.”

  “I didn’t even realize the alarm hadn’t beeped when I came into the house.” She swallowed several times, trying to wet her dry throat. “This has shaken me up.” The vulnerability she’d experienced with Byron engulfed her, even after seventeen years. It made her angry because she’d thought she had dealt with it.

  “I don’t want you staying here. I’m having your house processed for fingerprints. I’ll need yours to compare with what we find and anybody else’s that has been to your place within the past few months. The sheriff is on his way and will take care of that, since it’s related to our current case.”

  “Can I go in and get some clothes?”

  “Yes, but I’ll go with you.” He passed her a pair of latex gloves. “Even with these on, only touch what you absolutely need to get what you’re taking to Nana’s. Both you and Sally need to stay there, and when I’m not around, a deputy or police officer from the Longhorn department will be with you.”

  “I still have to see my patients and do my show.”

  “Can you take a vacation until we catch this guy?”

  “No. I have people who count on me. I can’t let this killer dictate my actions. I want you to use me to draw this man out.”

  “No way! I don’t want to find a photo of you.” His neutral expression altered, reinforcing his vehement tone of voice.

  “You won’t, and I can help with the case. For some reason, he’s targeted two of my patients. I can help you find a correlation between the victims. Jane is a young woman from a wealthy family, while Kelli is fifty and works at the grocery store as a clerk. At the moment, I can’t figure out what they have in common.”

  “They have you in common.”

  “You think the killer is targeting my patients?” The very idea struck a deep chord of fear in her. Why would he pick her?

  “It’s a possibility and one I need to look into.”

  “Then I can help you for sure. If someone is targeting my patients, I need to assist you. This afternoon, I was going to see Jane’s parents about opening their daughter’s file. I can ask Kelli’s daughter the same thing.”

  “As soon as Tom arrives, I’m going to check where Kelli lives. So far, no one has reported her missing. I’ll need to talk to her employer, neighbors and daughter to figure out when she was taken.”

  “Okay. I’m calling my office and canceling my appointments this morning. I should come with you, especially to see her daughter, Allison. I just need to be at the station at ten thirty. I don’t want to miss the show in case the killer contacts me again today.”

  “Good. I’ll be there too, and if he phones, I can try to trace the call.” Ian walked to his SUV and locked the evidence bags in a compartment in the back.

  When the sheriff pulled up to her town house, Ian covered the distance between them and spoke to him, then returned to his car. “Okay, let’s go. I told him what I was doing. I’ll check in with him later. Do you know Kelli’s address?”

  She climbed into his vehicle. “Not off the top of my head, but I can call the office and get it.”

  “Good. Does her daughter live with Kelli?”

  “No, down the street from her.”

  “Does she have a key to Kelli’s house?”

  “I don’t know, but I can find out. I’ll call her.”

  “Please do that, but don’t tell her about the photo.”

  “Why not? She
needs to know.” Caitlyn sat forward, preparing to leave the SUV.

  Ian moved closer to her, bent his head into the interior and said in a quiet, patient voice, “I never inform a person of a death in the family over the phone. I know in this case we don’t have a body, but it isn’t a conversation to have over the phone.”

  Caitlyn scooted back in her seat. “Allison will want to know why I’m asking her to bring her mother’s key.”

  “Then since she lives down the street from her mother, don’t call ahead. We’ll go to her place first.”

  “Okay,” Caitlyn murmured.

  She watched Ian back away and skirt around the car’s hood, his features set in what she was discovering was his professional face. There was no fear or anger in his expression. In fact, she couldn’t read anything he might be contemplating. For a therapist, she spent a lot of her time understanding what a person was thinking about, especially if he was troubled. Body language was a tool she used a lot. But with Ian, she felt shut out, and that hurt. They hadn’t seen each other in years, and she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him—until now. He used to be open, especially with her. Was this what his job had done to him? Or was it something else?

  * * *

  Ian approached Allison Walker’s home, a small brick house with white trim, half a block away from her mother’s place. Like the sheriff, this part of his job was his least favorite. Slanting a look at Caitlyn, he was glad she was with him. From all he’d heard about her, she was very good at her job as a therapist, counseling others in pain or fear.

  When he reached the porch, he pushed the doorbell, and chimes echoed through the house. “I hope she can give us some leads. The family will need closure.”

  The door swung open. A young woman, her short dark hair streaked with purple, glanced from Ian to Caitlyn. “Why are you here? Is something wrong with Mom?” she asked her.

  “Allison, this is Texas Ranger Ian Pierce, and he needs to talk to you about your mother. We can’t get hold of her.”