So far her new Toyota performed without flaw. She drove a half mile toward town, then turned left on the dirt road. If you weren’t a local, you’d never guess the divider road between two small ranches eventually wound its way to the top of Mount Luna. Its summit was two hundred feet higher than the town of Cloud Rim.
High up at six thousand eight hundred feet lay her family’s private property with its white observatory. She paused a moment before going in. Here the world lay at her feet in every direction. Such magnificent vistas were a constant wonder to her. She could breathe in all the pure, dry mountain air she wanted. And for someone who’d suffered from claustrophobia since childhood, the open expanse came as pure relief every time she got out of the car.
Dana first discovered her phobia for enclosed places during a submarine ride at Disneyland. Later she shied away from entering any haunted houses at Halloween.
Some things she could tolerate fine, like an elevator or her trailer. What she couldn’t abide were places like tunnels, where she couldn’t see daylight.
On her trip around the world with Heidi several years before, she hadn’t been able to go inside the pyramids in Egypt or see the catacombs of Rome. When they were in Austria viewing the salt mines, Heidi had been forced to take the underground train ride alone.
But prison was the place Dana had suffered the most. Every time she heard the gates lock after the inmates had been allowed in the yard for a minimum of time, she felt entombed.
If it hadn’t been for the medication the judge had ordered the prison doctor to give her, Dana was positive she would have died in that hellhole. When she thought of Consuela still locked up in one of those airless cages away from her daughter, she could hardly breathe. The only thing that helped was knowing Gideon was working on her case.
Without wasting any more time dwelling on her friend’s pain, Dana unlocked the entrance to the observatory with its thirty-foot dome and went inside. It had been built last year to her father’s exacting specifications with the newest state-of-the-art equipment. All expenses for its construction had been privately funded by various companies with interests in future findings.
Dana thrilled to the custom-made forty-inch reflector telescope; its mirror represented the latest in astronomical technology.
Housed with special observational computers that would enhance the imaging, the place was a joy to operate while she worked on her Ph.D. in astrogeology. Now that the computers had been hooked up to Cal-Tech’s at Mount Palomar, she had constant access to their data, and vice versa.
Two offices, a rest room, mini kitchen and storeroom had been built.
This place was home to her, not the trailer. She’d bought a futon and bedding, which she kept in her office. Many nights she slept here after finishing her observations.
The night sky over the Davis Mountains was one of the darkest on the North American continent. It brought the heavens so close, there were times she felt she could reach up with her hands and pull down a cluster of stars.
Her father always chuckled when he told people the story of her first look through the telescope when she was five. Apparently she’d begged to touch the rings of Saturn.
“I’d like to touch them too, honey. But they’re too far away.”
“But I want to see them up close.”
“You can.”
“How?”
“By looking at some new pictures we’ve just received from a camera on board the Voyager I spacecraft.”
“Can I see them now? Please?”
“All right. Come on. I’ll take you to my office and show you.”
According to her father, her interest in the planets had been insatiable. That night marked the beginning of her great love affair with the heavens.
She sat down at her desk in the swivel chair. As she opened the package her father had sent her, an image of the man who’d brought it to her door came back to her in full force.
Since he was an IPS driver, they’d probably see each other again sometime. Though she’d already decided he belonged to a wife or girlfriend, it seemed her heart hadn’t gotten the message yet.
Frustrated because her mind kept dwelling on their encounter, she gave an impatient tug at the package. Out came three large photographs of Jupiter’s moon, Europa. Each one showed an icy surface riddled with fissures and cracks.
After studying them for a few minutes, she got so excited she had to call her father on her cell phone. He would see her caller ID. She hoped he wasn’t too busy to answer.
To her delight he picked up on the third ring. “Dana, honey? Are you all right?”
That was his stock question whenever he heard her voice these days. Prison had affected their family’s life in untold ways. However, one positive manifestation was the stronger outpouring of love between her and her parents. There was more talking, more sharing.
“I just opened your package. Daddy!” she shouted with excitement.
He laughed. “Those pictures are tantalizing, aren’t they? Although some impact craters are visible, I’d say their general absence indicates a youthful surface.”
“I agree. When you look at the youngest ridges, like those features crossing the center of the pictures, you can see aligned knobs and central fractures along with those dark irregular patches. In my opinion they could indicate cryovolcanism. More than ever I believe there’s been volcanic activity on Europa in the past.”
“I think you’re right, honey. I’m just as convinced a liquid ocean lies beneath the crust.”
“If both are present, then—”
“Then we’ve got a moon with an environment for the existence of li—” Her father stopped midsentence. “Uh-oh. Dr. Harbin just came running in to my office with one of those problems that needs solving right away.”
“We’ll talk later. Thanks for the pictures, Dad.”
“You bet, honey.”
After they said goodbye, she pinned the photos to the corkboard wall where they would be on constant display. Inspired by what she could see, Dana opened up the computer file on the Europa project and began entering her observations.
She’d told Glen she had other plans for the evening, so she would stay here and work straight through until dark.
At some point tonight, Heidi would be calling. Her friend would be relentless with her questions about the IPS man. Until then, Dana would try to put him out of her mind, but deep inside she knew it was impossible.
JACE HAD JUST CLIMBED in the van when Art Watkins, owner and pharmacist of Watkins’s Drug, came hurrying out the back entrance of the building with a box in his hands.
What now? Jace checked his watch before rolling down the window. It was after three. Though he’d hurried to get everything done so he could check up on Dana Turner, he was already running late.
“Could you do me a favor, Jace?”
“If I can. What is it?”
“While you’re out there doing your deliveries tomorrow, would you mind leaving a few of these flyers at the different stops on your route?
“My wife and I found out we’re losing our renter this weekend. We don’t like the apartment to be vacant and we’re using every means we know to spread the word.
“It’s a real cozy half-basement unit with a new kitchen and full windows in the living-room portion. There’s a private entrance and garage around the back of the house.”
“It sounds nice. I’ll be glad to help you out.” He reached for the ream-size box and put it on the passenger seat.
Jace would have agreed to the request anyway, but Art had just provided him with a legitimate excuse to get in some new places and ask questions even if he didn’t have a pickup or delivery to make.
In all these weeks, he hadn’t spotted any plane wreckage. For that matter, he hadn’t heard of anyone who’d inherited a fortune recently or was spending one. No businesspeople were talking about a show of big bills being flashed around.
Maybe Jace’s instincts were shot and the killers had
gone to Mexico.
“I can’t thank you enough.” Art pulled a couple of twenties out of his wallet.
Jace shook his head. “I appreciate the gesture, but keep your money. See you tomorrow.” Flashing him a grin, he closed the window before the older man could drop the bills inside the door.
As he started the engine and drove down the alley, he glanced in the van’s side-view mirror and could see Art waving to him. He waved back.
To some degree Art reminded Jace of his own father. A good, kind, hardworking family man. Honest to a fault. Always pleasant to be around. The contrast in nature between the two older men and someone surly, like Jace’s passenger of a few hours ago, was amazing, to say the least.
That situation had been preying on his mind. Anxious to find out if Dana Turner was all right, he headed for the Mason property. As soon as the trailer came into view he noticed that her white Toyota was missing. It could mean several things, but there was no point in speculating.
He pulled off the road as he’d done before, and reached for the form he would ask her to sign. Fastening it to a clipboard, he got out of the van and walked up to her door.
“Ms. Turner?” He knocked several times and waited. When there was no answer, he rapped on the door harder and called out to her again. Still no response.
Jace walked around the trailer. The curtains were drawn at all the windows, so he couldn’t see inside. Suddenly worried, he went back to the van for a certain set of tools. With no one to witness his actions, he could slip inside her place for a quick look and be out again in seconds.
If for some reason she and Tony were in there and hadn’t felt like answering the door, he would have to show his credentials and explain there was a manhunt on for the killers. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, since he’d be blowing his carefully created cover if it did. There was too much at stake to risk it prematurely.
He grimaced when he realized the lock was too damn easy to release. Anyone could break in here while she was sleeping. She’d never know what hit her.
There were times when the law allowed an officer to enter a private residence without a search warrant if an emergency arose. In his judgment, this was one of those times. He realized he was relying on instinct more than on evidence, but his gut feelings had rarely steered him wrong.
He drew his weapon and opened the door, entering in a crouch position. To his relief, the place was empty. He moved silently through the interior, past the empty bathroom to the bedroom.
Except for an empty glass and plate on the table, she kept a spotless place. Had she fed her uninvited guest before they left? He saw no evidence of a struggle, but that didn’t necessarily mean there hadn’t been one. The package he’d delivered earlier was nowhere in sight.
He peered through the curtains of both side windows to be sure the way was clear before letting himself out. When he’d secured the lock, he headed back to the van.
It would help if he knew where she worked. Ralph Mason would have that information. Jace pulled into the man’s driveway and hurried to the front door. After ringing the bell several times, it was clear the old man wasn’t going to answer. He’d probably fallen asleep.
Ralph had a grandson who was living with him, but Jace hadn’t met him and it didn’t look as if he was around now. The blue Chevy three-quarter-ton pickup he’d seen parked next to the house on several occasions was missing.
There was no more time to waste. Jace got back in the van. After ten minutes of driving around town looking for her car, he called Pat, his backup man, who’d been only too willing to help Jace with this case.
The sheriff had brought in extra help for Alpine’s regular department business so he could concentrate on Gibb’s case and be available to Jace on a twenty-four-hour basis.
“Pat, in case there’s been foul play, I want any officers working within a hundred-and-fifty-mile radius of Cloud Rim to watch for a new white four-door Toyota.”
He gave Pat descriptions of Dana and Tony, plus the license number that had been taped to the rear window. She didn’t have Texas plates on her car yet and could have purchased it under the name Howard or Turner.
If anyone spotted the vehicle, they were to follow it and get the information back to Jace.
With a feeling of foreboding, he left Cloud Rim and started down the mountain, watching for any white car that came into sight, parked or moving.
He was looking so hard he almost missed Tony Roberts, who stood at the side of the road halfway to Fort Davis with his overnight bag in hand, thumbing for a ride.
When he saw Jace’s van, he waved him down. Jace didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. He wouldn’t rest easy until he knew Ms. Turner’s whereabouts and had been assured she was all right.
Some criminal types got a high remaining visible. Jace wouldn’t let up on Tony Roberts until he had proof he was wrong about him.
After slowing to a stop, he put his head out the window. “Come on. I’ll give you a lift.” While Tony went around the van, Jace put the box of flyers on the floor behind the other seat.
His passenger climbed inside and shut the door, placing his bag across his legs. He turned to Jace. “I figured I might catch you on the way back.”
Jace started up the van again. “You didn’t stay very long.”
“Nope.”
If Jace wanted to get any information out of this guy, he needed to play whatever hand he was dealt. Unfortunately, Tony remained silent for the next five miles.
By the time they’d crested the summit to drop down into Fort Davis, Jace had seen one white car go by, but it wasn’t a Toyota.
Tony finally turned to him. “Where exactly is Indian Lodge?”
“About three miles south of here.”
“Hell.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s the only place I could get a room for tonight while my car’s being fixed.”
“Then I’ll keep going and drop you off there.”
After another couple of miles Jace turned onto a road leading to the pueblo-style lodge.
“As you can see by the number of cars parked, you’ve come at the height of the tourist season.”
“You think I don’t know that? When I started out, I assumed I wouldn’t be needing a room.”
This was the opening Jace had been waiting for, but they’d arrived at the front entrance to the lobby. “Your girlfriend’s a beautiful woman. It’s too bad you couldn’t have won her around. Maybe next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Tony muttered.
“Why not?”
“For the last six months she’s been hanging out with trash, but I never thought I’d see the day she’d pull a gun on me. That’s the biggest turnoff I can imagine. Thanks for the ride,” he said before getting out of the van and walking off.
What in the hell— Jace reeled.
Tony had been planning to stay with Dana Turner, but had ended up walking back to Fort Davis.
Maybe Tony, for all his strange behavior, had been telling the truth. So what did that say about Dana—whoever she was?
What kind of woman stayed alone in the mountains away from people? Why did she have a gun? Who were the criminals Tony had referred to? Where were they? Jace had seen no evidence of anyone else living with her in the trailer.
Were the seven months Tony had mentioned pure coincidence?
Or had there been a third party connected to the armed robbery that had taken place six months ago? Had Dana been one of the killer’s girlfriends, or an accessory?
Perhaps she’d sheltered the killers for a time and knew where they were. It might explain why she didn’t want Tony around and had gotten rid of him in a way guaranteed not to bring him back.
And maybe you’re so desperate to catch Gibb’s killers, you’re grasping at anything and have lost your mind.
Before Jace could be sure of anything, he needed a lot more information about both Tony and Dana.
On a fresh burst of adr
enaline, he drove out to the highway and turned back toward Fort Davis. Ten minutes later he pulled into the service station where he’d picked up his passenger earlier in the day.
After leaving some of Art’s flyers with the attendant, he got a look at the silver Jetta’s California license plate. When he climbed in the van, he phoned in the information to Pat.
“I’ll run a background check on Roberts as soon as we hang up, Jace. As for an update, no officers have called in about the Toyota yet, but they’re staying on it. We’ve learned one thing—the woman in question listed herself as Dana Turner on her new license. And before that, she held a California license plate also under the name of Turner.”
Jace gripped the phone tighter. “Run a California statewide check on her and see what comes up. Motor vehicles. Vital records. Anything you can find.”
“Will do.”
Jace checked in at the IPS office in Alpine, but his mood was so black he headed for his apartment without saying a word to any of the other drivers.
Once he’d let himself inside, he flung off his shirt and reached for a cold can of beer from the fridge. He blamed his frustration level on the fact that, despite his suspicions, despite his instinctive fears, nothing that happened today seemed to have anything to do with the killers.
But it wasn’t until he stood under the spray of the shower that the real source of his frustration hit him like a ten-ton truck.
He’d felt an instant attraction to the woman who’d opened her trailer door to him earlier in the day. It had gone deep, awakening something inside him he thought had died with his wife.
A groan escaped his throat. Why did the line between innocence and guilt have to be blurred where Dana was concerned?
As he stepped out of the shower, he heard his cell phone ringing. He grabbed a towel and dashed into the bedroom, checking the caller ID before he answered.
“What have you got, Pat?”
“Hey, Jace, your guy came up pretty clean. His name is Anthony Roberts, twenty-nine, Caucasian male resident from Irvine, California. He’s received three speeding tickets in five years. No outstanding warrants for his arrest.”
Beneath A Texas Sky (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 3