by Rita Herron
She ran a trembling hand through her hair, and sighed wearily. Her normally manicured fingernails were jagged and chipped from where she’d chewed on them during the night.
“No. Jonah hasn’t been well,” Charla said in a tired voice. “Billy and I doctored the paperwork to make it look as if the land originally belonged to Jonah’s great-great-grandfather.”
Cabe nodded. “And Marcie knew all this, so you killed her?”
Charla jerked her head up, shaking her head wildly. “I told you I didn’t kill Marcie or Daniel Taabe. And I certainly didn’t kill my husband.”
Cabe and Hardin exchanged frustrated looks. Why would she deny killing them when she already had four murders on her head?
“But you killed McLandon?” Cabe pressed.
“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, I did because he was going to ruin me forever.”
“That’s enough,” Collier interjected. “My client has a diminished mental capacity.”
Hardin glared at Collier. “Your client is ruthless, and confessed to premeditated murder.”
“You mean McLandon was going to expose you, don’t you, Charla?” Cabe snarled.
Charla broke down and began to sob again, muttering incoherently.
Cabe and Hardin spent twenty more minutes reviewing the case details, but she still refused to admit that she’d killed Marcie, Daniel or Billy.
Cabe’s cell phone vibrated and he checked the number. Wyatt.
“Excuse me. I need to take this.” He gestured to the sheriff. “Get Charla’s confession typed up and make sure she signs it.”
Hardin agreed, and Cabe stepped from the room. “Sergeant Navarro.”
“Cabe, it’s Wyatt. The Captain is satisfied that you’ve solved this case and is ready to disband the task force. He’s already spoken to the press and announced that Charla Whitley was responsible for all the murders and is in custody.”
Cabe cursed. Charla’s confession—or lack of one regarding Marcie’s, Billy’s and Daniel’s deaths—troubled him. “We can’t do that just yet. Hardin and I just interrogated Charla again, and she insists she didn’t kill Marcie, Daniel or Billy.”
Wyatt made a frustrated sound. “Hell. Then keep pushing, Cabe. I’ll stall for time, but I want every detail to fit before you pull out.”
Cabe agreed, then snapped his phone shut. If Charla hadn’t killed Marcie, Billy and Daniel, then their killer was still at large.
His stomach knotted.
And Jessie might still be in danger.
“DADDY, PLEASE CALM DOWN,” Jessie cried. “I hate to see you so agitated.”
Her father had been pacing the study, pulling at his hair, and making a ticking sound with his teeth. “It’s the ghosts, those damn Indian spirits,” he ranted. “They’re haunting me, Jessie. They beat their war drums all night long. They’re coming for me.”
Jessie twisted her hands together. Cabe claimed he felt and heard the spirits on the land, but now her father heard them, too? Was it possible? Or was her dad hallucinating?
“Daddy, Dr. Pickford is on his way.” She reached for her father to urge him into a chair, but he shoved her hands away and continued pacing.
“I don’t need a doctor. I need someone to get rid of these damn ghosts. Give them back the land if that’ll satisfy them.”
A knock sounded at the door, and Lolita poked her head in. “Dr. Pickford’s here.”
Jessie sighed, feeling helpless. Her father needed medical treatment, maybe even hospitalization. “Thanks, Lolita. Please send him in.”
Her father swirled around, walked to his cabinet, removed a bottle of Scotch and poured himself a glass. “I know you think I’m crazy, Jessie, but I’m not. There’s something awful going on here at the ranch. I wish to hell I’d never bought that land.”
“So do I, Daddy,” Jessie said as the doctor entered the room. That sale had caused so many deaths so far. Maybe he was right. Maybe the land was cursed.
“Just let Dr. Pickford take care of you, Dad.”
He grabbed her hands in a death-grip. “And you take care of the ranch, Jessie. Promise me you’ll do that, and that you’ll get rid of that Ranger.”
Except she didn’t want Cabe to leave Comanche Creek. “Dad, Ranger Navarro will be gone soon. He arrested Charla Whitley last night for those murders, so hopefully soon things will settle down.”
Her phone buzzed in her purse, and she gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a little while.” She spoke to the doctor, then left the room, dug her phone from her purse, and flipped it open. “Hello.”
“Jessie, listen to me. Charla Whitley didn’t kill Marcie. I know it.”
The woman’s voice sounded strained. Frightened. Familiar. “Who is this?”
“Linda Lantz.” Her breathing rattled between them as if she might be running. “Oh, God, Jessie. I know I should have come forward, but I was afraid I’d end up dead like the others.”
Jessie’s lungs constricted. “Linda? I was afraid you were dead. Where are you?”
Linda started to cry. “I’m scared, Jessie.”
“I know,” Jessie said softly. “But the Rangers will protect you. Cabe Navarro is here. You can trust him.”
Linda sighed shakily. “All right, I’m at the Bluebonnet Inn under the name of Megan Burgess.”
“I’ll be right there.” Jessie snapped her phone closed.
Dear God, Linda knew who had killed Marcie. And the killer was after her.
She had to hurry.
Chapter Thirteen
An uneasy feeling stabbed at Cabe as he and the sheriff retreated to Hardin’s office.
“Charla signed the confession,” Hardin said. “But Collier will try to convince the judge to commit her to a mental institution instead of serving time in prison.”
“You think the judge will agree?” Cabe asked.
Hardin shrugged. “I don’t know. But as long as she can’t hurt anyone else, I don’t see as it matters. And with her confession about the illegal land deal, the land can be returned to the Comanche Nation so you can soothe those ruffled feathers.”
“True.” Although Jonah and Trace Becker wouldn’t be pleased.
Cabe leaned against the doorjamb. “Lieutneant Colter called, and the Ranger Captain wanted to pull us from the case.”
“So you’ll be leaving town?” Hardin asked.
Cabe huffed. “Not yet. It still bothers me that Charla insists she didn’t kill Marcie, Billy and Daniel.”
Hardin scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense. She’s already confessed to multiple murders. What’s two or three more?”
Cabe grabbed a chair and parked himself in it. “Maybe we should review our suspect list.”
Hardin nodded. “First, Deputy Shane Tolbert, who was found holding the Ruger that murdered Marcie. Then Jerry Collier, who handled the land deal and works for Becker. Then Jonah Becker.”
“We can rule out Jonah.”
Hardin slanted him a sideways grin. “Why? Because you have the hots for Jessie?”
Cabe gritted his teeth. “No. Because he’s ill and having memory problems. That’s the reason Jessie has been handling things in town and with the task force. They didn’t want anyone to know he was sick.”
“You’re sure this illness is for real?”
“Yeah. I saw him myself. He’s not strong enough physically or mentally to have pulled off those murders. In his confused state, he could easily have been duped into the land deal.” Cabe paused. “Of course, Trace is still on the list. He’s conniving, spoiled and jealous of Jessie.”
“What about Ellie?”
“The hair fibers I found at the original cadaver site didn’t belong to her. But she and Trace are having an affair, so I suppose they could have conspired. Although I can’t imagine Ellie allowing any artifacts to be removed from the land. And if she’d known it was a sacred burial ground, she would have moved hell or high water to keep the property in the custody
of the Comanches.”
“Maybe Trace lied to Ellie.”
Cabe nodded, following his train of thought. “And he wanted to protect his daddy’s investment.”
“He could have killed Daniel because Daniel was onto the truth. And if Trace is in love with Ellie, getting Daniel out of the way paved the road for Ellie to move up the political chain.”
“Ellie does have high political aspirations,” Cabe admitted. The uneasy feeling he’d had earlier escalated. “I’m going to phone Jessie and warn her to stay put, that another killer may still be at large. Then let’s plan some kind of trap to draw the second killer out of hiding.”
He punched in Jessie’s number, but the phone rang and rang and no one answered. Finally the voice mail kicked on.
“Jessie, this is Cabe. A killer still may be out there, so stay with your father.” He snapped his phone shut. He didn’t like the fact that she hadn’t answered.
He never should have left her at her house. What if the killer had already gotten to her?
JESSIE’S CELL PHONE BUZZED in her purse as she parked on Main Street, but it rolled over to voice mail before she could dig it out. She cut the engine, then checked the message box in case Linda had changed her mind. But the message was from Cabe.
He had called to warn her that another killer was still at large. She started to return his call, but Linda had sounded spooked, and Jessie was afraid that she’d run again if she didn’t hurry to her.
Throwing the car door open, she slung her purse over her shoulder, checking around her for strangers as she walked up to the porch to the Bluebonnet Inn. Praying Linda hadn’t already bolted, she opened the front door. The owner, Betty Alice, was carrying a tray of tea and shortbread to the buffet in the dining room.
“Why, Jessie Becker, what are you doing here?” Betty Alice said with a grin.
“I came to meet one of your guests, Betty.”
The plump woman’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? A young man?”
Jessie’s cheeks stained pink as she remembered her lovemaking with Cabe. She wished she was here to meet him for another romantic rendezvous.
“No, Betty. A woman named Megan Burgess.”
“Oh, yes, that sweet girl. She’s in the pink room. Do you want me to ring her and tell her you’re here?”
“No, thanks. I’ll just go straight to the room. She’s expecting me.”
Betty Alice threw her fingers up in a wave, and Jessie rushed up the staircase, then down the hall to the pink room, the room where Betty housed most of her female guests. It was decorated with antique furniture and a balcony opened to the second-floor porch.
The door was closed, so Jessie knocked. “Linda…Megan?”
Her pulse raced as she waited, and she thought she heard movement inside, so she knocked again. When Linda didn’t answer, she jiggled the doorknob and the door swung open. She made a quick scan of the room and bath, but they were empty.
The door to the porch was open, so she crossed the room and stepped onto the porch, hoping to find Linda outside. But the porch was empty, too.
Frantic, she glanced down at the gardens, and saw a few people on the sidewalk on Main Street, but no Linda. A movement caught her eyes, and she noted a tall woman with black hair wearing a scarf weaving through the crowd. She’d seen the same woman at the town meeting.
Linda had been blonde, but she was using a fake name. What if she’d dyed her hair?
Something must have spooked her, but what? Had the killer found her?
Deciding she’d walk to the jail from the inn, meet Cabe and explain about Linda’s call, she left the room, hurried down the stairs and rushed out the front door.
But just as she stepped from the porch, Deputy Shane Tolbert appeared. “Jessie?”
“Yes?”
“I was just at the jail. That Ranger asked me to escort you home.”
Anger slammed into Jessie. Was Cabe going to avoid her now they’d made love? Pawn her off on another cop? And Shane Tolbert? She didn’t even like the man. “Why didn’t he come himself?”
Deputy Tolbert shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just following orders.” He gestured toward his squad car, which was parked behind her Jeep. “Get in and I’ll drive you.”
“I can drive myself,” Jessie said emphatically. “Besides I want to go to the jail and talk to Cabe. I have some information about the killer.”
Shane’s brow shot up. “Tell me and I’ll pass it on.”
So Cabe was avoiding her. “I spoke with a woman who claims she knows who killed Marcie and Daniel Taabe. I was supposed to meet her here, but when I went to her room, she’d disappeared.”
“I see.” His eyes turned cold, his voice hard. “Get in the car, Jessie.”
He reached for her arm, but she jerked away. She refused to let Cabe dismiss her. “No. I told you I’m going to the jail.”
Shane grabbed her arm again so tightly this time she winced. Then he pulled his gun from his holster and pointed it at her waist. “I said get in the car.”
Fear rolled through Jessie as he shoved her into the backseat of his car, forced her to lie down, then slammed the butt of the gun against her head. Pain ricocheted through her temple, and the world spun as he jumped in the driver’s seat and raced off.
Dear God, he had killed Marcie and Daniel.
And now he was going to kill her, too.
CABE HAD TO FIND JESSIE. While Sheriff Hardin phoned Livvy to check on her, Cabe called Jessie’s house, desperate to hear her voice, and hating that he was desperate. But if anything had happened to her…
“Becker residence. Lolita speaking.”
“This is Ranger Navarro. Is Jessie there?”
“No, sir,” Lolita said. “She left a while back.”
“Do you know where she was going?”
“No, she didn’t say.” The woman’s voice dropped a decibel. “Why, Ranger Navarro? Is something wrong? Has something happened to Miss Jessie?”
Cabe gritted his teeth. “Not that I know of. I’m just trying to reach her. If she phones you or comes back to the house, please have her call me.”
Cabe thanked her, hung up, then phoned her brother. “Trace, this is Ranger Navarro. Where are you?”
“Why do you want to know? So you can harass me again?”
“I’m looking for your sister, Trace. Is she with you?”
“Hell, no. I thought you were glued to her.”
Cabe silently cursed. Trace could be lying. “I asked you where you are.”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Listen to me, Trace, if you have your sister or have hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”
“I told you my sister isn’t with me,” Trace bellowed. “I’m in Austin. I came over here to talk to one of my father’s doctors about more tests.”
Cabe clenched the phone. Dammit. Trace’s heated response had the ring of truth to it. “If you hear from her, tell her to call me.”
Snapping his phone shut, he headed out the door of the jail. Maybe Jessie had ridden back to the burial sites on her property. But a young woman with shoulder-length black hair barreled into him. He threw up his hands and caught her by the shoulders.
“Help, you have to help me!” she cried.
“Whoa.” Cabe pulled her into the front office and shut the door. “Calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
“My name is Megan Burgess…” She paused to take a breath. She was trembling, her green eyes flashing with fear. “I mean Linda Lantz.”
“Linda Lantz? You worked for Jessie and disappeared two years ago?”
She bobbed her head up and down, then pressed her hand to her chest to catch her breath. “Yes, but I left town because I was afraid someone would try to kill me.”
He noticed her black hair, remembered the photo he’d seen of the blonde Jessie had identified as Linda Lantz, and realized that the two dyed strands he’d found at the burial site belonged to her.
“Come on and sit down,” he said,
coaxing her to a chair. “Tell me everything.”
She twisted her hands in her lap. “I was working on the Becker ranch two years ago when I saw Marcie fake her kidnapping and death. But then I noticed a man in the shadows and he saw me, so I ran.” She lifted a hand to her cheek. “I left town, had plastic surgery and dyed my hair so he couldn’t find me.”
Cabe’s chest tightened. “Did you recognize the man?”
She shivered. “Yes.”
“But you didn’t come forward?” Cabe asked angrily.
“No,” she whispered raggedly. “I told you I was scared. But then when I heard about those bodies being found, and that Marcie was really murdered, I came back to town. I knew I had to do something, but I didn’t know whom to trust. Then I saw you were with Jessie, and I was afraid you’d blame me, that you would arrest me for not coming forward sooner. I thought…I hoped you’d find out the truth before anyone else got hurt.”
Cabe gripped her arms. “Linda, who killed Marcie?”
Her lower lip quivered, and she sucked air through her teeth. “Deputy Tolbert.”
Cabe’s heart pounded.
“I called Jessie to tell her,” she rushed on, “and she came to meet me at the Bluebonnet Inn. But then he showed up.”
“Deputy Tolbert showed up?”
She nodded miserably.
Cabe’s blood ran cold. “Then what happened?”
Panic and fear strained her features as a sob escaped her. “He took Jessie.”
Chapter Fourteen
Cabe’s heart lurched to his throat. The mere idea that Jessie’s life hung in the hands of a ruthless killer made him furious.
“Listen to me, Linda, where was Deputy Tolbert taking Jessie?”
“I don’t know,” Linda whispered. “I really don’t know. He just shoved her in the back of his car and hit her with the butt of his gun.”
Cabe sucked in a sharp breath. “Was she all right?”
“I don’t know.” She swiped at more tears. “He must have knocked her unconscious, because she didn’t get up. Then he jumped in the front seat and sped off.”