Ranger Guardian

by Angi Morgan

  Cybercrime had a broad definition—it referred to any crime committed with a computer or through a computing device. The slim file he’d received held just the basics and an address where to meet the agent. He was curious to learn what had tipped the FBI off and what the specifics of the case were.

  Why meet here in the field? It wasn’t the norm. Neither was getting a last-minute request for field backup on a task force he hadn’t been active with for a while. Jerry Fisher—his wife’s old partner—had been promoted to group leader overseeing several teams in cybercrime. What was different now?

  He waited for this mysterious agent at his truck. The older neighborhood was nicely kept up. The homes were on the smaller side for this section of Dallas. They’d eventually be sold and torn down to make way for larger lots.

  It was a shame. Some of them looked really nice and were perfect starter places for couples. Or to house mothers-in-law. He’d been thinking about his wife the entire trip across town.

  Only natural that he’d start thinking of her mother, since he half blamed her for egging on their arguments. He’d gone back and forth long into the night about calling Kendall. Even picked up his phone a couple of times. But the chicken part of himself won.

  What if that phone call ended everything?

  This morning he watched the sun rise while riding his mare and resolved to call Kendall today to make a date to talk. Not over the phone. Not around Skylar Dawn. Certainly not around his mother-in-law. The promise gave him peace of mind. Six months was enough time apart. He needed to try again. Speaking face-to-face would allow him to gauge her reaction. And if she called it quits?

  Well, he wanted her to look him in the eye if she did.

  There were several cars on the street of the address he’d been given. None of them were a government-issued sedan. He glanced at his watch—only a couple of minutes early.

  If he was working with the FBI, he’d eventually have to visit their Dallas field office. He wasn’t excited about running into Kendall accidentally. Or her supervisor, Jerry Fisher.

  Whoever his partner from the FBI was, they were late. Unless he was supposed to meet them inside. He walked around the truck, calling Wade to see if there’d been a time adjustment to the appointment. When a black sedan pulled up behind his truck, he disconnected. He leaned on the tailgate while putting his phone away, waiting.

  “Heath?” A familiar voice rang from the far side of the government car.

  The car door shut, and he stood at attention for some reason. The face came into focus while his body charged out of control.

  Kendall?

  Dammit. He’d almost dove into the truck bed. Hard to do with his heart galloping up his windpipe like a stampeding mustang. He wanted to leap on its back and get the hell out of there.

  His hands itched to wrap themselves in her wild strawberry blond mane. But no wild mane flowed down the back of FBI Special Agent Kendall Barlow. It was pulled smoothly against her head into a ponytail. A few short tendrils escaped in front of her ears, the lobes pierced with the small diamond studs he’d given her.

  “Nice to see you,” she said, before smiling a strained grin.

  “Hey.” It felt awkward. He hadn’t been alone with her in a long time. He deliberately eased his shoulders, trying to relax. “Nice earrings.”

  She fingered a stud, as if figuring out which pair she wore. “Oh, these? I can’t remember where I got them.” She teased with a genuine smile now. She remembered exactly who had given them to her... Him.

  The awkwardness was worth it for the smile he hadn’t seen in months. “I... No one told me it was your task force.”

  “Can we sort through the conflict of interest after Mrs. Pelzel’s interview? She’s watching us out her window.”

  “Would you like to work with someone else?”

  “Of course not.” She stopped on the sidewalk, head tilted to the side to look up at him. Physically only an arm’s length away, but completely out of his reach. “We can be professional about this. At least I can.”

  Professional? Sure. Why the hell not?

  Her task force. Her lead. Her knock on the door. He turned sideways on the porch to let her pass. The slight scent of ginger and orange filled him with memories. He recognized the smell of her lotion and was getting sentimental. Instead of pulling her into his arms and kissing her until they were both senseless, he tugged off his dark shades and tucked them in his pocket.

  He could be professional. If he had to.

  Kendall explained who they were when Mrs. Pelzel came to the door. She introduced him as Ranger Murray. No one was the wiser that they were married, since she’d always used her maiden name professionally. Once they were invited inside, Heath quickly discovered Kendall had been on this case for several months. Sitting on one of the most uncomfortable couches in the world, he concentrated on Mrs. Pelzel preparing large glasses of iced tea. A suddenly dry throat couldn’t wait to be quenched.

  Kendall looked at a message on her phone, and he wondered how they’d drifted apart. More than five years of his life had been devoted to this woman.

  How could it all be gone over one wrong question? He didn’t want it to be. But getting back to her wouldn’t be easy.

  Once again, he was close enough to touch his wife, but promise bound to keep it professional. Reminding himself to stay professional. He’d kept that way back when they’d first met. He could do it again now.

  Mrs. Pelzel brought the glasses in on a tray. He popped off the couch to help, but she shrugged him off. “Please sit. I have never had a real Texas Ranger visit before. This is so exciting.”

  She handed them each a glass. He downed his in record time and could only blame it on nerves.

  Kendall set down her glass after taking a sip, then straightened her jacket. Time for business. “Mrs. Pelzel, would you be willing to let my computer forensics team take a look at the PC?”

  “Can they do that from here? I don’t think I could live without my computer for a long period of time,” the home owner replied. “That’s how I stay in touch with my grandkids, you know.”

  “We could have someone out here in a couple of days,” he answered. “They could check it right here.”

  The older woman shook her head. “Oh, wait. You know, I should have told you when you first arrived. There’s really not a problem, so you’d be wasting your time.”

  Kendall gave him a look he should have been able to interpret. Maybe she’d just been surprised that he’d given an answer she didn’t like. Maybe she thought it strange that Mrs. Pelzel had changed her mind. He didn’t know, and that was disappointing since he should, being her husband and all.

  “Mrs. Pelzel, what happened that made you call the FBI?” Kendall asked. Her notebook was open. Her pen was clicked to a ready position, but her casual body language told him she wasn’t expecting a real answer.

  That hadn’t changed, at least. He could still read her mannerisms, it seemed.

  “I’m afraid I’m just a silly old ninny who made a mistake,” the older woman said.

  Kendall turned a page in her notebook, sliding her finger across the handwriting as she skimmed the page. “You told us you had a feeling that someone was watching you through the computer’s camera.”

  “I did,” the older woman whispered.

  To her credit, Kendall the FBI agent didn’t roll her eyes or make any facial movement that indicated she didn’t believe the older woman. “You also mentioned that the computer seemed to be running slower since they installed the Public Exposure gadget.”

  “Really, you should believe me when I tell you I made a mistake,” Mrs. Pelzel said, her fingers twisting into the loose long-sleeved shirt she wore.

  “Will you confirm that you have one of the PE monitoring systems?” Kendall’s enthusiasm moved her forward to the edge of the couch. Both sets of law enfo
rcement eyes moved toward the desk, where the older model computer sat.

  “They seem like a legitimate company,” he said, attempting to get Mrs. Pelzel to share more information.

  “I’m not a helpless old woman who doesn’t know how to research a product or service. I didn’t think it was anyone’s business how much time I spent online. But the money they offered was enough to buy a new roof. I just couldn’t pass that up.”

  He’d heard of Public Exposure and their controversial social media monitoring system. The file he’d been sent from the task force stated a strong belief the group was involved in more than the good of the common man.

  “I sound old and kooky about someone watching me. But I swear that the camera light comes on by itself while I’m cooking or watching television. I hear a click, and the red light pops on and off.” She covered her mouth like she’d said something wrong and then looked at her computer.

  Warning bells sounded, and he couldn’t help glancing over to see if the light was on.

  “It doesn’t sound kooky at all, Mrs. Pelzel,” Kendall comforted. “In fact, we’ve had several other residents report the same thing. But we need to take your computer to our forensic team and have them check—”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll have my granddaughter look at it. I was wrong to bring you here. There’s nothing weird going on.” Mrs. Pelzel stood and lifted her hand toward her front door. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  “Mrs. Pelzel, I believe you,” Heath said. “A start to resolving this issue would be to make certain you log out of your Wi-Fi. Turn everything off before closing the lid and unplugging it. And ask your granddaughter to verify your router has an encryption key. You might want to change your password.”

  “Thank you. I’ll try to remember, and I’m very sorry to have wasted your time.”

  Kendall stood, defeat written clearly on her face. She flipped her notebook closed and stowed it away inside her suit jacket. They both stopped on the front walk when the door shut. Heath squinted at the noon sun and put his glasses on while she made a couple of more notes.

  “The precautions won’t make any difference,” Kendall told him, following with her sunglasses dangling from between her fingers.

  “You don’t think this is someone trying to steal identities, like that file sitting in my car states.”

  “It’s bigger than that.” Kendall continued to her car.

  “How many reports have you taken?”

  “Dozens.” Kendall leaned on the government-issued sedan, appearing more defeated now than she had inside the house. “And for every person who reports that their camera light is sporadically coming on, there are probably another dozen who don’t.”

  “It’s a shame she wouldn’t let an expert search her computer. But if you have had that many complaints, why haven’t your FBI computer whizzes found what you need from those victims?” He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned his hip against the sedan, close to her.

  “What did you think of Public Exposure before this morning?”

  “I’ve seen their public service announcements. They’re a group that promotes kids playing outside instead of hanging on social media. How are they involved in potential identity theft?”

  “First, no accounts have been affected—bank, credit card or otherwise. None of these complaints go further than what you witnessed. Mrs. Pelzel doesn’t realize that it was me who she spoke with when she called. I take the complaints, but by the time I get to an interview, something has changed their minds and they’ve all made a mistake.”

  “All of them?”

  “This makes over twenty. Oh, and they all use the word kooky.”

  “They can’t all be saying the same thing. You think Public Exposure is threatening them?”

  “Yes. Sometime between when the resident calls me and when I get here. All of these people withdraw their complaints or concerns and I can’t move forward.”

  Mrs. Pelzel watched them from her window. Heath saw her drop the curtain back into place. Without moving his head, he looked at the windows of the neighbors. More than one resident peered through the blinds.

  “I kind of understand about that feeling of being watched.” He barely nodded, but Kendall picked up what he was throwing down.

  “There’s also a white van at the end of the block.” She pointed a finger behind her.

  He glanced in that direction. “Two men in the front seat. Just sitting like they were when I arrived.”

  “Want another chat?”

  “I’m game.”

  Kendall flipped her identification wallet open and held it in her left hand, leaving her right ready to react. Her weapon was at the ready in her shoulder harness, his at his hip. She turned and they took the first steps into the middle of the street toward the van.

  The engine sprang to life and the van burned rubber in reverse. It was around the corner before they could pivot and get back to the car.

  “I didn’t see a front license plate,” Kendall said, pointing for him to get into her vehicle.

  “Nope. At least we don’t have to wonder if we’re being watched or not.” He hesitated to open her sedan’s door. “My truck is faster than this old heap.”

  “Yeah, but this is government insured. I’d hate for our rates to go up.”

  He jumped inside and buckled up. That was his Kendall. Always practical.

  And he loved it.

  Chapter Four

  Kendall concentrated on driving the car. If she let herself get distracted and think about why Heath had been assigned her case, she’d screw up. Driving or talking...somehow she’d messed up one or the other, and he’d shut down.

  At the moment, his hand gripped the back of her seat and the other gripped the dash. He’d lowered the window as soon as she’d pulled away from Mrs. Pelzel’s home.

  “Do you see them?”

  “You’re about to cross Inwood. Take a right.” He was grinning from ear to ear.

  A definite improvement from when she’d first arrived. She’d thought he was about to throw up when Mrs. Pelzel went for the tea. She turned right as he suggested with the direction his finger pointed. For a by-the-book kind of guy, he had a good intuition about where criminals went.

  “Slow down, Kendall.” Heath dropped his hand and pulled his sidearm.

  She tapped the brakes and followed the direction of his narrowed eyes, toward the end of the block where the van sat parked in a driveway. She couldn’t tell if it actually belonged there or not. She slowed further.

  “We need a better view.” He rested his weapon on his thigh but kept it pointed toward his door.

  “Do you think they’ve seen us?” She pulled the car to the curb, keeping her foot on the brake and the car in gear.

  “Not sure.”

  “Thoughts?”

  “They aren’t getting out. We should call for backup. Last thing we need is a chase through a residential part of Dallas.”

  “Agreed. A high-speed chase isn’t ideal anywhere.”

  “Nope.”

  At least he was concise. Shoot, he always had been. Heath Murray was a cowboy of few words.

  “As soon as I put the car in Park, they’ll take off.”

  “Probably. Backup?”

  “I hate to do that when all we have is the suspicion they were watching us or Pelzel’s house.” She needed proof. Something solid to move forward with. Not a reprimand about pursuing innocent bystanders.

  “They did peel out in Reverse to get away.”

  “True, but we hadn’t identified ourselves. I just see a media nightmare when they claim we were coming at them with guns.”

  “Want me to ask?” His hand reached to open his door.

  “Let’s just wait a minute and see what they do.”

  She had no more than
finished the sentence when two men exited the van, walked to the rear and removed paint buckets. One of the guys went and punched the doorbell, also knocking loud enough to send every dog on the block into a barkfest.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She hit the steering wheel with the palms of both hands. “This is the first nibble I’ve had.”

  “Drive slow.”

  Kendall didn’t hesitate and put the car in motion. With his gun resting on his thigh, Heath used his phone as a camera. She didn’t have to watch. She was confident that he’d capture as many images as possible. She focused her gaze on the men, switching between them, watching for a weapon or any questionable movement.

  They drew even with the house and the man still at the van climbed inside and quickly shut the rear doors. The one at the house knocked again, causing the dog inside to bark once more. She could see it bouncing against the window trying to get out.

  “Catch the plate?” Heath asked.

  “He stacked paint cans in front of it.” Frustrated, she kept the car moving and pulled around the corner.

  “We could wait here. See what they do.”

  “We’ll give it a try.” She performed a three-point turn, pulled next to the curb and cut the engine.

  “Video call me.” He plugged a headset into his phone and used one earpiece, dropping the phone into his jacket pocket. “Stay here.”

  “Heath, no.” This went against training, but it was their best option.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t do crazy.” With those words, he was out of the car and tapping the hood as he walked around the front.

  She should have been more insistent and demand he return to the car. She dialed and he answered but didn’t talk. She could hear his boots on the street, his breathing and then the echo of street sounds after she heard them in real time.

  He crossed the street and stood on the grass at the corner house’s garage wall. The cell screen finally showed a picture other than the inside of his pocket. He lifted the phone around the corner, and she could see past the neighboring driveways.