Shattered Silence: Men of the Texas Rangers Series #2

by Margaret Daley

  “I’ll call your boss and tell him you were at the station and will be a few minutes late. I’m sure he’ll understand being questioned by the police in a murder investigation.”

  Miguel squeezed his hands into fists, glanced back at the door, then stomped the few feet to the table. After he scribbled down a couple of names, he said, “There,” and slammed the pen down on the metal top.

  Only two names were scribbled on the paper. “For a ladies’ man, that’s not very many names.”

  “That’s all I can come up with. He wasn’t here that long.” He fled from the room, leaving the door open.

  Cody appeared in the entrance. “I thought family was important to him.”

  “So long as you don’t ask questions. When I caught him at his work site and asked him to follow me to the station, he wasn’t too happy with me.”

  “That’s what happens when you purposely try to catch him off guard.” Cody dropped a report on the table in front of Liliana. “The tracks at Carlos’s ranch matched the tires from a compact car.”

  “Not a light truck?” she asked, thinking of the black pickup Pedro had seen pulled out of the field onto the road. Brady had confirmed what his friend had said.

  “Nope. That would make our job easier.”

  “I don’t know about easier, but at least it would mean two of the murders were connected possibly. I guess a small black pickup narrows things down just a little more than a compact car.”

  Cody chuckled. “If you say so. Do you know how many pickups are in the town? In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve seen a lot.”

  “Yeah, I know. I have several cousins who own a small black truck.”

  “That coupled with a tan cowboy hat still makes our haystack pretty tall and that needle small. Hungry?”

  “When Miguel was talking about lunch, I was afraid that my stomach was gonna growl and embarrass me.”

  His laughter eased the stress from the unsuccessful interview. “C’mon. My treat after the unproductive morning we’ve had.”

  “Speak for yourself.” She made her way down the hallway. “According to Miguel, his cousin is a model citizen.”

  “According to Miguel, his cousin didn’t know anyone named Anna.”

  Coming into the large room, Officer Vega passed Juan setting a trash can on the floor, saw the white board Liliana had started on the murders, and frowned. “Rodriguez, I wouldn’t work too hard on Ruiz’s case. We’re better off without him around. There’s probably a long line of suspects that wanted him dead.”

  “If you know of any that stand out to you, by all means give me their names.”

  “Hate for you to waste your time. Just more scumbags. He had his hands in anything that would make him a buck. Legal or illegal.”

  “Hey, maybe all the scumbags will kill each other off and we can go on vacation,” Officer Hudson at the counter said. “Wouldn’t ya like that, Juan? No more trash to empty, floors to sweep.”

  “And no more money.”

  Officer Vega burst out laughing. “He’s got you there, Hudson.”

  Liliana walked toward the front door. “Have fun, boys. Chief will be back soon from lunch with the mayor and councilmen. You know what that means.”

  Nancy, the police chief’s secretary and dispatcher, entered from the back. “Yeah, and he just pulled up.”

  Liliana reached for the handle, but Cody stepped forward and opened the door for her. “Good time to leave.”

  “Why?” Cody asked.

  “Chief always comes back from these monthly luncheons ready to bite off the nearest person’s head. I try to stay low, especially with all that’s going on.”

  “Yeah, as if we would ever have to worry about not having a job because there’s no crime. Sadly that problem isn’t gonna happen.”

  “So people like Victor Ruiz are our job security?”

  Cody stopped at the curb and slanted a look toward her. “Yeah, I guess they are. I hate to think we need the bad guys.”

  “I wouldn’t mind moving on to another job if that were ever the case.”

  “I’m not sure what I would do.” He nodded toward the cafe across the street.

  “Best food in town.” Liliana jogged across to the other side. “I’d be a photographer. What are your interests?”

  “Work. And more work. All I’ve ever known is law enforcement. And don’t you dare mention all work and no play . . .”

  As she entered the cafe, she threw him a grin. “I don’t have to. You already have. Feeling a little guilty?”

  “Not me.” He scanned the restaurant. “This must be a good place. Only one table is free and the dirty dishes are still on it.”

  The door opened behind Liliana. “Even though it’s technically after the lunch hour, Mom’s Cafe is usually busy all the way until mid-afternoon so let’s grab it before someone else does.”

  Liliana sat across from Cody as a young man approached the booth and began gathering up the dirty dishes and utensils. “Hi, Sean. I’ve missed you the last couple of times you’ve delivered food to the station. How’s school going?”

  Sean kept his head down and finished stacking the plates. “Had—had—to drop—o—ut.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you don’t give up on college.”

  After putting the dishes into a big plastic bin, he began wiping down the table. “May—be one—day,” Sean stammered then quickly left, favoring his right leg. With his head still ducked down, he ran into a customer getting up from a booth.

  “Watch where you’re going,” the barrel-chested man said to Sean.

  He mumbled something and continued his flight toward the kitchen.

  “Sean’s had a hard life. Lost his father and mother when he turned eighteen. He’s been working two jobs to go to school but was laid off from one of them a couple of months ago. He stutters when he’s nervous, and I have a feeling he has a hard time in job interviews. He’s been limping lately. A bike accident.”

  “Who do you not know in town?”

  “There are a few. I like people.”

  “Is that why you became a cop?”

  “Yes and that I didn’t like some of the injustice I saw.” A picture of her father materialized in her mind, and she shoved it away. She had dealt with that long ago. Put it behind her, or so she thought. Maybe Elena’s situation was dragging it to the foreground again. How long had Elena been covering for Samuel? “How about you? Why are you a cop?”

  The waitress came to the booth and set the waters down then placed the dog-eared menus before them. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

  When she left, Cody picked up the menu. “Any suggestions?”

  “Everything. I haven’t gotten anything here I haven’t liked. This cafe has gotten a fair share of my wages along with most of us from the station.”

  “What are you getting?” He perused the menu.

  “A salad.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yep. You wait until you see the portions. You get your money’s worth. This is a family-owned cafe. Our waitress is one of the daughters. You haven’t answered my question. Why did you become a cop?”

  Cody set the menu on the table and looked directly into her eyes. “Because if it hadn’t been for a cop, I’d probably be in prison by now.”

  Liliana nearly choked on the water she was sipping. She coughed, glad at that moment the waitress returned and took their orders. It gave Liliana time to recover from his revelation. “Why?”

  “At fourteen, I had a chip on my shoulder and was angry at the world. My little brother died, my mother left my dad, and I had to leave the town I grew up in. By the time I was fifteen, I rebelled and ran with the wrong crowd. A cop caught me joyriding and instead of taking me to jail, he took me to my home, but he didn’t let me off. I ended up doing community service in a program he was involved in. Every time I pass through Austin, I go see him. He still helps confused kids get back on track. I want to make that kind of difference.”<
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  “I know we aren’t the only police department in the area you work with. How are you going to find the time to do it all?”

  One corner of his mouth quirked. “That has always been my problem. This is a demanding job. At least the way I do it.”

  “You told me that your son isn’t happy about this move.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. He doesn’t understand what my job is.”

  “With all that’s on TV you would think he would.”

  “No. He thinks when the hour is up I should be home. I wish it were that easy.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I’m not married. Most people don’t understand the amount of time this job can take, not to mention the emotional toll it can have on you.”

  “I’ve been there. I know what you’re saying.” As the waitress put their orders down in front of them, Cody waited then continued after she left. “I’ve decided to go back out to the area behind Carlos’s ranch tomorrow and take a look around. Something is still nagging me. I felt watched.”

  “I did, too.”

  “Interesting. Probably nothing, but . . .” He shrugged.

  “But you’re going to satisfy your curiosity?”

  “Yep, want to come again?”

  “I’ll pass. I’m revisiting each of the crime scenes.”

  “One thing TV doesn’t get across is all the legwork a cop has to do on cases. Often dull and boring.”

  “But necessary to rule out various leads in a case.”

  Cody picked up his hot roast beef sandwich. “I’m also working on Al’s shooting. He’s reviewing his notes on the case. I thought I would pay him a visit this weekend and see if he remembers anything else.”

  “We ran into a dead end. There’s a lot of money involved in smuggling, possibly palms greased. I don’t think those people would let a Texas Ranger,” she tapped her chest, “or a police officer stand in their way. I figured Al’s questions were rattling someone’s cage.”

  “Such a cynic.” He took a bite of his sandwich.

  “It’s hard not to be when you work in law enforcement.” Liliana stabbed some lettuce in her taco salad. But she realized that wasn’t the only reason she was jaded. Her childhood had forced her to look at life differently. She couldn’t help but blame her mother partially for the situation Elena found herself in with Samuel. She’d never stood up to her husband, and now Elena thinks she is at fault for what was happening.

  “How was school today?” Serena asked as she wheeled herself into the gym at the apartment complex.

  Kyle stopped his crunches and mopped his face and neck. “Okay. I met a couple of guys.”

  “That’s good.”

  “How come you don’t go to Durango High School?”

  Serena’s smile faded. “Some people can’t accept people who are different.”

  “What do ya mean?”

  “I went to a private Christian school until my dad lost his job and had to take one that cut his salary in half. I started high school last year at Durango High and quit at the end of first semester. I—I was having problems.”

  Kyle scrambled off the floor and grabbed a set of weights. “What kind of problems?”

  She gripped the wheels of her chair and pushed herself toward the shelves that housed the different weights. “Bullies. There were some who didn’t think a girl with a disability should be at the school.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish. Now I’m homeschooled and doing much better. The only thing I miss is not seeing friends as much. It gets kinda lonely at times.”

  “You said you went to a Christian school. Do you go to church?”

  Serena stopped in mid-action reaching for the twenty-pound weights and looked at him. “Yes, I belong to the Church of the Redeemer. It’s a few blocks from here. They have a great youth group, and I get to see my friends then. I guess you figured out there aren’t many kids here at these apartments.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.” He hadn’t noticed much about the place except the great gym.

  “They’re a couple of others here—a guy named Manny. He goes to Durango High and there’s a girl who’s thirteen. She goes to the middle school. Oh, there is another guy, but I haven’t talked to him.”

  “Manny Chavez?”

  “Yes, have you met him?”

  “Yeah.” He remembered Aaron and his friends discussing Manny and what a big shot he thought he was because he was the star on the baseball team.

  “Nice guy. I’ve heard rumors that if he keeps playing like he does, he’ll be recruited by a major league baseball team.”

  “He’s that good?”

  “Yes.” She clasped her weights and started to do some exercises he’d shown her.

  “Hold it. You aren’t lifting it the right way.”

  “I’m not?”

  “Here, let me show you.” Kyle positioned himself behind her wheelchair, leaning down to grasp her arm. Serena’s scent of apples wafted to him, which sparked a memory of his mother baking an apple cobbler the week before she died.

  He released Serena’s arm and backed away. Her aroma stirred remembrances that brought the past months’ pain to the forefront.

  Serena dropped the weight, and it bounced on the carpet. She twisted about to search for him.

  He kept retreating. “Sorry. I’ve got to go.” He spun around and hurried from the gym.

  Another scene flashed into his thoughts. Of the police officer notifying Nate and him that his mother had died in a car wreck while the drunk driver walked away from the crash with just a few bruises. Even knowing the man was going to prison for killing his mother didn’t make this hollow feeling go away. It burrowed deep into him, leaving nothing but emptiness in its path.

  A blaring sound reached into Liliana’s mind and yanked her from a deep sleep. She fumbled for the receiver and knocked over her flashlight. The phone rang again. And again.

  Finally she snatched it up and said, “Hello?”

  Silence.

  Elena? “Hello? Anyone there?” She glanced at the red numbers on the clock. 1:15.

  A menacing cackle cut through the silence on the other end.

  Liliana swung her legs over the side of the bed as she fumbled for her light switch.

  Crash. From her living room.

  Another hideous laugh then her line went dead.

  Tossing down her phone, Liliana grabbed her gun on the nightstand and hurried from her bedroom. She pressed herself against the wall and sidled toward the end of the hallway. She paused at the entrance into the living room, listening for any unusual noise. Nothing, except the hammering beat of her pulse.

  She waited another moment then reached around the wall into the room and flipped on the light as she swung into the doorway. Gun up, now both hands cradling the handle, she panned the area. Her gaze fell upon the rock on her tile floor then the busted window five feet away, glass strewn across the floor.

  For a few seconds relief wilted her against the wall until the black letters RIP on the rock snagged her attention. She could no longer ignore what was happening. The slashing of her two tires yesterday was more than a warning to her to back off. Someone was sending her a threat.

  7

  Cody stood on the elevated spot in the box canyon where they’d found the cattle on Thursday, his gaze drawn to a high ridge on the west side. Had he seen a glint yesterday from up there? Prickles rose along the back of his neck. Something wasn’t right.

  Prepared to scale the cliff if he had to, Cody removed the climbing gear looped around his saddle horn. He secured his horse before hiking to the wall of the canyon. After examining the rocks shooting straight up, he mapped the route he would take to the top then proceeded up the stone face.

  Fifteen minutes later, he pulled himself over the ledge and clambered to his feet. Wind whipped by him, stirring the dust in the air. The sun rising higher in the eastern sky bore down on him, and he welcomed the breeze.

  He squatted, getting down
near the ground for a different angle for his search. Again nothing—until he spied something caught in a crevice of a rock. Did he imagine the gleam of the sun striking off something? The glass off a pair of binoculars? It had been such a fleeting feeling. He wasn’t sure. Why would someone be up here, watching him and Liliana? He inspected the ground around him. Hard. No footprints.

  Then he saw it. A cigarette butt. He pulled out an evidence bag and started to gather the butt when he noticed another one beneath it. The more he dug the more he found. A total of ten butts of the same kind of cigarette. A smoke hole? Strange place for one. Who? Why?

  His gut tight, he rose and slowly made a full circle. Now he wished he’d brought binoculars with him. Something didn’t feel right. The rough terrain on the other side of the ridge of the box canyon stretched for miles toward the border between the United States and Mexico. Not far from here another sheer rock face jutted upward, creating another higher ridge.

  He knelt again at the stash of cigarette butts and collected them, then began his descent to the floor of the canyon. He’d wasted enough time with this hunch. But this whole situation with the missing cattle, the “gate” in Carlos’s fence, wouldn’t let go of him. He would have to make an appointment to see Cesar Álvarez who was out of town right now, and he intended to talk with Al again about the rumors he’d been investigating when he was shot.

  As he headed back to Salazar’s ranch, the feeling he was being watched again snaked down his spine. He glanced back several times and the last time he saw a glint in the middle of the higher ridge as though sunlight bounced off something. Spurring his horse faster, he let it run.

  When Liliana pulled onto the dirt road that lead to the abandoned house where Jane Doe was shot three times, she drove slower than usual, trying to figure out why this place. It was isolated but was not far from a large subdivision. She studied the houses in the distance then swung her attention in the opposite direction. The field, dotted with clusters of trees and carpeted with tall weeds and cacti, stretched south toward the border—maybe from this point ten miles away.

  The two things all three of the murders had in common were that they occurred in the southern part of Durango and the victims were of Hispanic descent. Did that mean anything?