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Trouble in Texas

Page 18

by Leann Harris


  “What’s that I’m smelling?” she asked.

  “What?” Derek glanced at her.

  “That wonderful smell that the rain brought with it. What is it?”

  He took a couple of sniffs. “Oh, that. It’s greasewood.”

  Alex chuckled. “What an awful name for such a wonderful-smelling plant.”

  He shrugged. “I can’t help what it’s named.”

  Alex closed her eyes and breathed in the comforting smell. A comforting smell? Her eyes popped open and she stared at the landscape before her. She searched her heart for a negative feeling or reaction. There wasn’t any. Instead, what she discovered was a soft peace.

  “Oh, dear Lord,” she murmured.

  “Are you talking to the Almighty, Doc?”

  She turned on the seat to face Derek. “As a matter of fact, Deputy, I am.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Thank you for a miracle.”

  He waited for an explanation.

  “I see this land,” she explained, awe in her voice. “I think I know what you see in it.”

  He grabbed her hand, brought it up to his lips and kissed it. “That is a miracle.”

  She laughed, a feeling of freedom welling up in her soul.

  “Believe me, Doc, I plan to thank the Almighty myself.”

  * * *

  The Jeep’s right front wheel fell into a large hole in the road.

  “Simon needs to get this road fixed,” Derek grumbled, trying to avoid biting his tongue on the jarring ride.

  The barn came into view.

  “It looks like Mr. Moore needs to paint his barn, too,” Alexandra muttered.

  Derek glanced at the cracked, peeling white paint on the structure. Several of the side boards were broken off near the ground and needed to be replaced. Derek wondered how Simon could care so little for his livestock to allow that to happen.

  The road curved around the barn, bringing the main house into view. Parked in the circular driveway at the front of the house was a new black Cadillac. Derek stopped his Jeep behind the other car and turned off the engine.

  “It’s a nice car.” Alex nodded to the auto in front of them. “If it belonged to me, I’d pave my road to keep the suspension in alignment.”

  Derek glanced at Alex. “You’re an unusual woman, Alexandra Courtland.”

  “Why, because I worry about the suspension of a car?” she asked as she climbed out. In her hand she carried her little black doctor’s bag.

  “Because few people would be thoughtful enough to worry about that.” Walking between the vehicles, he glanced at the wheels of the Cadillac, looking at the tread of the tires to see if they might resemble any of the distinct tread marks at the airfield.

  “What are you doing?”

  He shook his head. “Later,” he murmured. He lifted the brass knocker and rapped it several times. The sound echoed through the house. After he knocked a second time, the door opened.

  “Yeah?” a burly man demanded, his voice low and raspy. He was dressed in a black T-shirt pulled tight across his massive chest. The short sleeves of the shirt cut into the hard muscle of his biceps. The veins of his arms stood out, the muscle so hard it forced the vessels toward the surface. But in spite of his muscle-bound appearance, the guy appeared flushed and his eyes glassy.

  Alex glanced at Derek, then at the man at the door.

  “You need something?” the man questioned, hostility ringing in his words. The deep roughness of the man’s voice, a result of thickened vocal cords, was a dead giveaway that the guy was on massive dosages of steroids.

  Not caring for the man’s attitude, Derek gave the jerk his most chilling look. Alex stepped in front of him, putting herself between him and the hulk.

  “I’m Dr. Alexandra Courtland. I talked with Simon Moore earlier today about testing him for TB.” The man hesitated. “Would you please inform him we’re here?” Alexandra’s voice didn’t brook any defiance.

  Derek had to bite back a smile at the picture they made. Five-foot-five, one-hundred-and-five-pound female bringing to heel the six-foot-two, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound male with a firm tone and a steely look in her eyes.

  The man nodded and reluctantly opened the door for them. He led them down a short hall to the living room. “Wait here. I’ll get Mr. Moore.”

  “Thank you.” Alex set her bag on the couch.

  Derek scanned the room. A new large-screen television stood against one wall. On the opposite wall was an expensive sound system, with CD player and high-quality speakers. Derek found it odd that Simon would have this new equipment, yet let his barn go to hell.

  When he looked back at Alexandra, he saw that she was staring at the open doorway, a frown on her face.

  “Are you wondering about Simon’s friend?” he softly asked.

  “I suspect—”

  “Steroid abuse?” Derek finished the thought for her.

  “Yes. And the danger—” She broke off when they heard footsteps in the hall.

  A tall, slender man entered the room. He was dressed in a flowing white shirt, navy slacks and expensive loafers with tassels. Derek wasn’t impressed with Simon’s attempt at suave, but then again, he was never much impressed with Simon. The man always wanted the good things in life and didn’t much care to work for them. Damn, why hadn’t it occurred to him earlier about Simon’s weakness? He could only attribute his absent-mindedness to the outbreak of TB that had afflicted his friends, neighbors and child.

  “Derek, it’s good to see you. And this must be Dr. Courtland.” Simon Moore shook her hand. “I understand from Randy that you are here to test me for TB. I thought we agreed that I would come into Saddle in the next week.” He sounded somewhat put out.

  “We did, but since I am trying to pin down the source of this outbreak, I need to test everyone as quickly as I can. Derek was kind enough to volunteer to drive me out here.”

  “That was generous of him.” Simon’s tone didn’t match his words.

  “In addition to you, I’ll need to test everyone on the ranch, Randy included.”

  The sound of a car engine filtered into the room. Derek walked to the window and watched the Cadillac drive away. From his vantage point Derek couldn’t see who was driving. “Who was in the car?”

  “Randy. I had a couple of business errands that needed to be done and he volunteered to do them for me.” He turned to Alex. “I’m sorry, Dr. Courtland, I didn’t know you wanted to test everyone.”

  “When he returns, have him come into Saddle. Today.” Her last word rang with steel.

  “I don’t know if he’ll be back today.”

  The more Simon talked, the more he gave away.

  “Whenever he returns, he needs to come immediately to the clinic.” She glanced around the room. “I’ll need a table. Could we go into the kitchen or dining room?”

  Simon led them into the kitchen and introduced them to Mrs. Burns, who was at the stove, stirring what appeared to be a pot of soup.

  “If you’ll sit down and roll up your sleeve,” Alex instructed Simon.

  “So, doctor, how do you think this TB thing started?” Simon tried to sound casual, but tension showed in the pinched expression around his eyes.

  Alex slipped the needle under his skin and injected the protein. Simon winced and looked away.

  “That’s what I’m trying to discover, Mr. Moore.”

  “Please, call me Simon. How does one get tuberculosis?”

  “From prolonged exposure to an individual who has it. The risk goes up if you’re in a small enclosed area with the infected person. The post office had to be closed because of those very reasons.”

  “I see.”

  “Everyone I test will need to come into Saddle in seventy-two hours to have the results read. I’ll start with Mrs. Burns while you round up the rest of your people.”

  * * *

  “What were you trying to tell me earlier in the living room when Simon walked in?” Derek asked
Alex on their drive back into Saddle.

  She thought for a moment, then understanding dawned in her eyes. “Ah, you mean my statement about Randy. Well, if he is a steroid abuser, and I think he is from the deepness of his voice, his muscle mass and his charming greeting—” she gave him a saucy grin and Derek knew she was being sarcastic “—and he catches TB, he’s at greater risk than you or I.” Her tone sobered. “He could die within weeks of contracting the disease.”

  “You think he might have TB?”

  “I have a bad feeling about him. And although Randy didn’t cough in our presence, he did seem flushed.”

  “And his eyes had that glassy look Sarah gets when she’s running a fever.”

  She folded her arms under her breasts and slid deeper into the seat cushions. “I just hope things aren’t too far gone for him.”

  Derek nodded and stared out at the road. So now there was the prospect of this steroid abuser having a fatal case of TB. That situation could cause a panic throughout the county.

  Derek cursed. Damn. What a stupid SOB Simon was.

  He shook his head. Everyone in this part of the county knew that after the death of Simon’s father, the Moore ranch had gone to hell. Simon had no interest in ranching and less skill. Derek recalled a rumor he’d heard when he first came back to Saddle that the Moore ranch was on the edge of bankruptcy. So how did Simon afford a new car and all that new equipment in his living room? And where had he picked up his newest ranch hand? Randy didn’t look as if he knew one end of a horse from the other.

  Well, if Derek didn’t miss his guess, Simon was involved in the smuggling operation. He’d call Beavins about what he’d discovered once they got back into town.

  * * *

  “Hot damn,” Beavins said. “That’s terrific news. Do you think we can get a tread match on the Caddy for those at the landing strip?”

  “Might. Simon’s crony is supposed to come into town today. I could take a print then.” Derek carried the phone to his office window and looked at the clinic. Alexandra’s Mustang was parked outside along with a red Ford pickup he recognized as belonging to the Douglas ranch. “Also, I think the D.A. would give us a writ to pull the phone records for Simon’s ranch. We could see who he’s been calling and then run the numbers through the National Crime Information Computer. See if he’s been calling any known felons.” He watched Maria and Bob Douglas climb into their truck. Derek turned and walked back to his desk. “We might even luck out and find calls to the Mexican pharmaceutical company that manufactured the steroids we picked up.”

  “I agree,” Beavins responded. “I’ll talk to my boss in Marfa and suggest it. I’ll call you back and let you know what’s going on.”

  * * *

  At nine o’clock that night Derek and Alex were at the kitchen table charting the results of the day’s TB tests when the phone rang.

  “Hello,” Derek greeted the caller.

  “Derek, this is Beavins. We got the writ and are now in the process of checking out the numbers. Did your suspect ever come into town?”

  “No, the guy never showed.”

  “Now, why am I not surprised? I’ll call if we turn up anything,” Beavins said before hanging up.

  Derek joined Alex at the table.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  After he explained what was happening, Alex asked incredulously, “You think Simon would be stupid enough to call the Mexican pharmaceutical company?”

  Derek leaned over and brushed a kiss across her mouth. “Doc, you wouldn’t believe how stupid criminals can be. It’s incredible.”

  * * *

  Alex snuggled closer to the warmth of Derek’s body, reveling in the afterglow of their lovemaking. It amazed her that she had turned out to be such a sensual person. But that aspect of her personality had been brought to life by the handsome man in whose arms she was sheltered.

  The bedside clock indicated that dawn was only a few minutes away. Alex turned and kissed Derek on the cheek.

  “I like that,” he mumbled sleepily.

  Her fingers sifted through his hair. “I’ve got to get back to my room.”

  His eyes opened and his gaze searched hers. The look in his eyes worried her. He was holding back something that was of great importance to him, something he felt he couldn’t share with her.

  A chill settled around her heart, and suddenly she didn’t want to know Derek’s thoughts. She wiggled out of his embrace and slipped on her nightgown and robe. With her hand on the doorknob, she glanced over her shoulder. “See you at breakfast.”

  He nodded.

  Alex raced to her room and climbed into bed. Burying her face in the pillow, she tried to calm her racing heart. What had Derek been holding back?

  Don’t borrow trouble. The thought drifted through her brain.

  Alex tried to logically evaluate the situation, setting aside her feelings. The events around her were rushing to a final climax. The possibilities for the identity of the ground-zero TB patient—the source of the outbreak—were getting narrow. Derek’s investigation of the illegal drug smuggling was reaching a critical mass and Alex had the feeling the smuggling was linked to the outbreak of TB. Things seemed confusing and ready to explode. Yet in the midst of this confusion, she had found a small measure of peace.

  Some of this calm flowed from making peace with the land—she belonged to it, it was home. The other part came from Derek and Sarah—they had found the portions of her heart that were intact. Because she had something to hold on to, maybe now she could face the rest of the demons that haunted her.

  Alex rolled onto her back, the pillow clutched to her chest. Even if Derek didn’t want her to stay forever, maybe by the time he asked her to go she would be healed enough to survive walking away.

  Maybe.

  Chapter 13

  Derek looked at Alexandra over the rim of his coffee cup. For the past two days she had behaved strangely.... Maybe strangely wasn’t the right word. It was hard for him to put a name to the odd way she was acting. A part of her had somehow withdrawn from him and he didn’t know why. He was tempted to tell her how he felt but he was scared that his honesty would drive her farther away, so he kept quiet.

  “How are you feeling?” Alex asked Sarah.

  Sarah glanced up from her oatmeal. “Okay. But I miss seeing my friends at school.”

  “Well, I think you can go back next week.”

  Derek picked up his coffee mug. “Have you narrowed down where the TB outbreak might have started?” he asked Alex.

  “Yes. So far, only Norma’s family and the Davis family have had TB results over thirty percent. But I think that when I have the results from the Moore ranch, they’ll be added to my list of suspects. I plan to drive out to the Davis ranch this morning and interview them, see if I can pinpoint where they were exposed to the bacteria.”

  “Do you know how to get there?” Sarah asked.

  Alex smiled. “I got directions from Mrs. Davis yesterday.” She sipped her coffee, then looked at Derek. “What do you plan to do today?”

  Derek’s heart thumped in his chest. This little exchange seemed right and natural. He, Sarah and Alexandra together, sharing breakfast, was the way it should be. So why couldn’t Alexandra see it?

  “I’m going out to the ranch. Beavins and I are going to go over some information we’ve come up with.” He didn’t want to mention the telephone records in front of his daughter. She didn’t need to know his ugly suspicion of Simon Moore. She knew Simon and had often talked to him when he came into the post office for his mail. “Alexandra, I want you to take my mobile phone with you.”

  A militant light entered her eyes. “Why?”

  “Because, if you have any trouble, you can call. It’s only for your safety.”

  Her gaze softened. “What if you need it?”

  “I have my police radio. Besides, I know these roads like the back of my hand. If anything happens, I would know where the closest help was.”

>   She nodded. “All right.”

  Derek stood, and set his cup and bowl in the sink. He kissed Sarah on the cheek, then stopped by Alex’s chair and did the same thing. “It’s your turn to do the dishes.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open.

  “See you later, ladies.”

  He heard Alex sputter as he walked away.

  * * *

  As Alex unlocked the clinic door she still felt the blush that had stained her face when Derek had kissed her in front of Sarah. Apparently Sarah hadn’t shared her embarrassment. In fact, from her reaction, Alex would guess she approved.

  Alex walked down the hall to her office and turned on the light. Her office. The thought resounded through her head like a cannon shot. Her fingers shook as she picked up the files for the Davis ranch. She was beginning to think of this place as home. And as hard as she tried to guard her heart, she grew more and more involved with these people and this land every day.

  She was reaching for the light switch when the front door of the clinic slammed open.

  “Help,” a male voice yelled.

  Alex rushed into the waiting room and found Simon Moore holding up his cohort, Randy. The larger male was sweating, his face flushed with fever. He coughed, and the muscle spasm doubled him over.

  Alex recognized the deep, rumbling cough. Snatching a tissue from the box on the coffee table, she handed it to Randy just in time for him to catch the blood he coughed up.

  Simon looked away in disgust.

  “Help me get him into the examining room,” Alex ordered Simon as she set down the files in her hand.

  She grabbed one of Randy’s arms and Simon took the other as they guided him into the small room.

  “How long have you been feeling bad, Randy?” Alex asked. She slipped a thermometer into his mouth.

  “A while,” he mumbled around the glass tube. “Thought it was the flu.”

 

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