The county offices were closed for the day, but with Finn’s permission, tomorrow he would head over and uncover when the last building permits for the ranch had been submitted, and by whom. Of course, the perpetrator wouldn’t have included the details about the false floor in whatever plans had been submitted for approval, but the boys ranch was frequented too often to alter the buildings without building permits. If they did, anybody could have reported them, and the drug-smuggling happening there would have been uncovered right away. Someone would have had to fake improvements or roll the false floor into approved plans to seamlessly achieve what they did. Heath would examine the building permits from fifteen years ago and follow the trail of names attached to the paperwork.
“Right here.” Heath knelt down and pulled up the board that served as the way into the cubbyhole. The only difference between it and all the others was a slight, faded indent on the wood.
Finn crouched beside him and ran his hand along the floor. “No wonder it was never found. I can’t say I would have spotted this. They constructed it in such a way that you can’t tell from the lower level that there are two layers of floors up here. It’s ingenious. I’m impressed. And with what I see every day, that’s saying a lot.”
“I thought the same thing.” Heath lifted the board, revealing what looked like rows of tightly bundled bricks and a dusty Smith & Wesson .38 revolver.
Finn whistled and then pulled out a camera to begin photomapping the scene. “I’m itching to catalog everything, but I’m not about to risk muddying up the crime scene. We’re going to have to call in the evidence crew to remove and package everything. The gun will have to go to the crime lab for prints. We won’t know right away.”
“I know. I do this all the time.”
“For other people...not for the murder weapon in your dad’s case.”
Heath stared at the gun for a moment. That was what took his father’s life. He was sure of that fact. Fifteen years without leads and all the answers had been here all along. A powerful feeling of peace and certainty pulsed through his veins. These items would lead to the killer. The angry teenager who still kicked around in his mind from time to time could finally rest.
Finn watched him. “Are you all right?”
“Relieved, more than anything. I want to move on from this.” Heath gestured to encompass all the drugs. “If you had to guess, how much would you say is there?”
Finn cocked his head. “I’m assuming by the looks of it, there’s both heroin and cocaine here. Combined, I’d say thirty to thirty-five kilograms.” He narrowed his eyes, running a calculation in his head. “When all that’s broken down for street use, it could be worth anywhere from a half million dollars to upward of one and a half million dollars. You’re looking at what may end up being the biggest bust in my career.”
A wave a nausea slammed into Heath as he rocked back to sit on his heels. “That... All of this... That’s why they killed him. He must have been about to blow their cover.” Heath swallowed hard. It was all so pointless. Drugs for his father’s life. “But why leave it all here for fifteen years if they thought it was worth taking a man’s life to hide?”
Finn punched a message into his phone, alerting the dispatch center to send the evidence technicians to their location. Neither man would disturb the possibly evidence-rich scene until the whole team was present and the correct tools were there.
“My assumption would be that whoever placed this here, and whoever killed to protect it, must have disappeared very soon after and hasn’t been able to return since.”
Unable to return for fifteen years? The obvious answer. “Jail?”
Finn nodded. “Either that or fled the country. There’s also the possibility that the person could have died soon after killing your father. You need to prepare for that, should it be the case. Those are the only logical conclusions for abandoning a haul of this magnitude. At least it gives us a place to start.”
Hopefully, it gave them not only the start—but the end, too.
Chapter Ten
The baby was having a field day kicking at Josie’s internal organs.
Josie braced her hand hard against her lower back. “I think the first lesson we’ll focus on after you make your grand appearance is going to be manners. We don’t kick vital organs that Mom might need later on. Hear that, lima bean?” She ran her hand over her stomach. The movement and subsequent pain subsided as she spoke. “There, now, isn’t that so much better? Get some rest so all that energy can go into growing.”
That morning Josie worked alongside Laura, one of the housemothers, changing all the bedsheets in the house before handing them over to the group of boys in charge of laundry that week.
Light as a butterfly, Laura touched Josie’s shoulder. “Honey, maybe Bea’s right. Maybe you should take it easier the closer it gets to your time. No one would blame you.”
Although Josie recognized the wisdom and care behind Laura’s words, the sentiment implying that Josie couldn’t handle her load still ate at her. Sometimes in the evening when she was home alone, Josie would put on a documentary—one of her favorite pastimes. Pioneer women made meals and helped hoe fields while in labor; surely Josie was made of the same mettle. But she also recognized that people asked her to take it easy because they cared—not because they thought she was incapable.
It would take a long time to get over the beliefs Dale had spoken into her heart for years—ideas Josie now understood were wrong. You can’t do that. If you work, that makes me look bad. Even if we had a ranch, you wouldn’t be able to handle the workload. It would fail. Josie relaxed her hands. Dale had not been a horrible man. In fact, she’d loved her husband, but looking back objectively, she could recognize how controlling he’d been.
Now that she knew that, his leaving made sense—in a way. Dale had been a man who knew what he wanted in life and had done everything within his power to work toward a certain outcome. He cared deeply about what people thought of him. He loved wearing a badge because it made people instantly respect him. He hadn’t wanted his wife to have a job because it might imply that he wasn’t making enough money. And he’d wanted a family, a son to carry on his name...but he couldn’t control if they became pregnant. That must have bothered him immensely.
The only thing within his control was the woman he was trying to have a family with. Josie had proven herself incapable of getting pregnant during their marriage, so Dale took control again and planned to leave.
Josie huffed and straightened her spine. “I still have three months. My doctor says I’m fine. It’s not like I’ve been put on bed rest or something like that. A pain here and there is pretty normal, at least so say all the books and websites I’ve been reading.”
“I understand. I was the same way with mine.” Laura smiled at her. “But please, speak up if the tasks become too much for you.”
They headed toward the kitchen area in the back of the ranch house and dark-haired Diego pounded through the back door. The second he spotted Josie, a smile overtook his face.
“There you are, Ms. Josie!” He crossed the room and hugged her middle.
She ruffled his thick hair. “I see someone’s ready to check the calves.”
“Ah, not just that.” He grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the back door. “I like you a little, too.”
Josie laughed. “So reassuring.” She waved to Laura. “I guess this is my cue. See you later.”
Outside, Diego let go of her hand and ran ahead of her by a few feet and then spun around. “I saw Ranger Heath today.”
“Me, too.”
“I know.” Diego nodded, his eyes dancing. “You two show up together all the time.” He stopped in front of her. “Are you two married?”
Josie let loose a nervous laugh and peeked around, hoping no one had overheard the loud boy. “No, of course no
t. Come on.” She passed him.
He jogged to catch up. “Well, then, when are you two going to get married? Can I come to the wedding? Can I be in the wedding? I’ll be so well behaved. If I have an itch or something, I won’t even move. I promise. I’ll stand still in all the pictures. I won’t sneeze or anything. You’ll be so proud, Ms. Josie. Will I still call you Ms. Josie after you get married? Or will it be Mrs. Josie...? Mrs. Heath? That don’t sound right.”
Exasperated that she couldn’t get a word in, Josie let out a groan.
Diego stopped. His eyes went wide. “You okay, Ms. Josie? Is it the baby? Want me to go get Heath? He’s just over by Flint.” He pointed in the direction of the horse barn. “I’ll get him.”
Josie caught Diego’s arm before he could take off. “No. Diego. Come back here. I’m fine. Completely fine.” She—slowly—got on her knees so she could place her hands on the boy’s shoulders and be eye level with him. “Ranger Heath and I aren’t getting married. Okay? Whatever made you think we were?”
The boy scowled. “But don’t you love each other?”
Did she...? She couldn’t. She wouldn’t let herself. But neither could she deny feelings, either.
Josie sighed. “I don’t know how Heath feels.”
The little boy’s face went slack as if he was surprised that she didn’t know something so obvious. “Then ask him.”
Josie sat back on her heels. She’d regret getting on the ground later when she tried to stand. “Girls don’t come right out and ask boys things like that.”
“Then I’ll ask him.” Diego laid his hand over his heart.
Josie shook her head. “That’s not how these things are done.”
Besides, over breakfast Heath had told her about finding the drugs and revolver back at the old ranch site. A huge step toward solving his father’s murder. If he was successful, Heath would be able to leave at the end of the month with that checked off his list. Done.
No need to ever return.
“Don’t you like him?”
“I like him very much, but there’s more to being married than just liking a person.” Josie folded her hands in her lap and looked down at her fingers. “You have to think alike, have personalities and goals that complement each other, and more.”
Diego crossed his arms and his eyebrows inched closer together. “It sounds like you’re making it all harder than it needs to be. I seen how he looks at you and how you look when he’s around. That’s love, Ms. Josie. I think that’s all you need.”
Enough. She shouldn’t involve an eight-year-old in her love life anyway. Or lack of a love life. She struggled to her feet. Diego offered her a hand and she held on to his shoulder as she stood.
Josie dusted off her jeans. “We aren’t getting married.”
“But your baby needs a daddy.” Diego pointed at her stomach.
“Is that what this is about?”
“A lot of the boys here, we didn’t grow up with dads.” Diego kicked at a small rock buried mostly in the hard dirt. “You don’t want your baby to grow up like that.” He looked back up at Josie, eyes hopeful. “Heath would make a good dad.”
Heath would make an excellent father and husband for a family someday. Some woman would be blessed to win his heart and devotion. Just not her.
Josie nodded slowly. “I agree with you there.”
“But not for your baby?” The boy frowned and it twisted Josie’s heart.
“He would have to want to be a daddy first.” Josie opened the door to the barn and held her hand out, inviting Diego to go in first. “He’s pretty focused on his job, and his job is very dangerous.”
Diego brushed past her. “That makes him a hero.”
“I think so.” She headed toward the feed cabinet.
“You don’t want to marry a hero?” Diego leaned down and gathered a few cattle brushes and combs into a bucket and then headed in the direction of the calf pens.
“Not don’t. Can’t,” she whispered. She fanned her face, blinking away tears.
Stupid pregnancy emotions.
Josie reached to open the cabinet but stopped when she spotted a small bundle sitting on the counter. It hadn’t been there earlier.
The printed label on the envelope read For Josie.
She tugged at the envelope, but it was heavily taped to the tissue-paper wrapping, so when she lifted the envelope, it ripped the paper open. Setting the card to the side, Josie ran her fingers over the pale yellow fabric poking through the hole in the tissue paper. Delightfully soft. Baby soft. She couldn’t resist and tore off the rest of the paper. Two small stuffed animals tumbled onto the counter. A black-and-white grinning cow and a small brown goat with curly horns. Josie lightly touched the top of their little heads, one at a time. So adorable.
Whoever had left the gift knew about her love for cattle and goats.
Or perhaps they were an excellent guesser.
She pulled the yellow baby blanket from the package and snuggled it to her chest. Perfect. Josie imagined carrying her baby into her home in the blanket—safe and warm. She couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. People at church and in the League had told her they were planning a baby shower, but this was the first gift she’d received for her baby. Everyone wanted to know the baby’s gender, but Josie had chosen not to find out. She planned to decorate the tiny bedroom back at her dad’s old fishing cabin yellow and gray. A barnyard theme had been on her mind, as well. It was almost as if whoever had left this gift knew that. Funny, though, she didn’t remember ever telling anyone.
Josie set the gifts down and moved the tissue paper aside, searching for the envelope. Her fingers closed around the hard cardstock and she opened the clumsily taped-together seal on the back. A typed note fell out: For your baby. From Heath Greyson.
She bit back a smile.
As much as she wished it was from the man in question, Josie was fairly certain Heath would spell his own last name correctly. Which meant the ranch’s mysterious matchmaker had their eye on Josie and Heath. Was the matchmaker Marnie Binder? Probably not. Marnie would have known how to spell Grayson. If Josie could figure it out, she’d loved to thank whoever had given her the thoughtful gifts.
Regardless, despite how much Josie fought her attraction to the man in law enforcement, imagining Heath giving her something like the stuffed animals and blanket made her smile even bigger.
Such foolishness.
Josie shook her head, folded the blanket into a tiny square and sat the stuffed animals on top.
Apparently she was spending too much time with Diego. He was filling her head with hopes, dreams and echoes of joy that were better left locked away, deep within her heart.
* * *
Heath trailed the boys in his detection class as they headed toward the learning center. They were done for the evening, but a handful of them had left their bags on the tables after finishing their homework assignments required by their teachers at the schools they attended in town.
He checked his phone for the seventh time.
No missed calls.
Last night, Finn and Heath had stayed on scene while the evidence technicians worked the area. Insisting that because Heath was on vacation, he shouldn’t run around for the case, Finn had decided he’d follow up with the city’s building department today to check on permits. Heath’s coworker promised to call the moment he had news.
Letting go of his father’s case might prove to be more difficult that Heath had originally thought.
He filled his lungs with the crisp, late November air. The sweet smell of cinnamon drifted from the kitchen. Marnie must be cooking up something amazing for dinner. Heath’s stomach grumbled.
He pushed through the door and was met on the other side by five grinning boys.
Stephen slung his backpack
over his shoulder. “Can I have a piece of your pie?”
“It looks really good,” another boy chirped.
Heath swiveled his head to where they were all pointing. At the front of the reading area was a wide table. It was usually full of towering piles of books and paperwork, but presently it had been cleared off of all but a pie and a sheet of paper. Heath zigzagged through the group of boys to get to the table.
Not just any pie—a pumpkin pie, his favorite. Someone had gone through a lot of work baking it and then decorating the top with swirls and cutouts of crust. He reached for the piece of computer paper beside it.
Stephen appeared at his elbow. “It’s from Josie. Sorry. We already looked.”
Heath raised an eyebrow at the boy.
Stephen shrugged. “Just putting our detection skills into practice.”
“Investigating crimes and snooping in people’s personal affairs are two very different things.” Heath nudged Stephen in his ribs good-naturedly.
Stephen grinned wickedly. “Maybe I want to be a PI. Can’t you see it?” He spread out his hands as if envisioning his name in Broadway lights. “Stephen Barnes, Detective for Hire.”
Heath pulled a face. “Most PIs are retired cops.”
“Dream killer.” Stephen playfully nudged Heath back. “Way to spoil my fun.”
“Use your powers for good, Stephen.” Heath winked at the teen.
Stephen laughed. Picking up on the hint, he rounded up the rest of the boys and ushered them out of the room. As he closed the door, he hollered, “But I was serious about you saving me a piece of pie, okay?”
“For good, Stephen.”
“Pie, Heath. Remember my enduring love for pie.” Stephen shut the door.
Heath chuckled. He’d sure miss ribbing with that kid once the calendar changed to December. He turned back to the table and flipped the page over: For Heath. Enjoy. —Josie M.
It was impossible to hold back his grin. So, the lady did like him. After a near-silent ride to the ranch this morning, Heath was beginning to wonder if he had completely imagined their almost kiss yesterday afternoon. When he told her he thought he was close to solving his father’s murder, she’d been downright icy. Why wasn’t she happy for him?
The Ranger's Texas Proposal Page 12