An uncomfortable feeling hit him as though someone taunted him saying, “Right. Just like Paul kept the woman he loved safe.”
Shoving that aside, he decided to double up his guard and not let her out of his sight until this case was finished.
He also decided to keep that to himself as he felt quite sure Gisella wouldn’t be on the same page with him in that book.
SIXTEEN
After calling Ben to let him know what had happened, Gisella gave another racking cough and bit her lip as she pondered their next move. Ben and Brock wanted her to go to the hospital. She wanted to wrap up this case.
Brock had cleaned his extra weapon and wanted to give the one that got dunked another good cleaning before carrying it again. He shrugged when Gisella expressed her concern. “After the deal with Lenny, I decided having a spare might not be a bad idea.” He pulled up his pant leg and she spied the small weapon strapped to his ankle. “Fortunately, I didn’t have it on me when we went swimming.”
Gisella watched him lower his pant leg back over the weapon and decided he was right. The way things were going in this town, that might actually be an excellent idea.
She rubbed a hand down her face. “Let’s take a look at the camera focused on the pool. I noticed it the night someone blew up your car.”
“Okay, sounds good as long as you’re sure you feel all right.”
She didn’t bother to reassure him again. Instead, she made her way to the office. Brock’s steps echoed behind her.
Entering the office, she noticed the clerk, Steve, behind the desk wiping down the computer. She asked, “Do you have some ibuprofen? I’ve got a headache and I’m out.”
Steve stopped his cleaning and opened the cabinet behind him. It creaked upon opening and he frowned. After handing her the small packet with two pills and a bottle of water from the small refrigerator to the left, he reached under the desk and pulled out a bottle of WD-40. Spraying the hinges, he tested the door until it stopped its annoying squeak.
Gisella opened the packet and popped the two pills, swigged them down with the water and froze.
“Did you oil the hinges in my room?”
Steve stilled, his jaw went tight. “Yeah. Your door was squeaking.”
“How would you know that?” she asked softly.
“The maid told me.”
Gisella set her water on the counter. She wanted her hands free. Brock stilled, watching her. She didn’t have time to fill him in on what she was thinking. If she did, she’d lose her opportunity with the man.
“I’m sorry, Steve, but the maid couldn’t have told you about the door because I put the Do Not Disturb sign on it. She hasn’t been in the room.”
The man’s eyes flicked from her to the exit door. Gisella’s gut tightened. The only reason he’d do that was because he felt the need to run.
“Steve,” Brock said, “is there something you need to tell us?”
Steve gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why are you making such a big deal out of me oiling your hinges? That’s my job, you know? To take care of this place.”
“And you do a great job. But I still want to know about the hinges in my room.”
“Look, I just remembered that the last customer who stayed in your room complained about the door. I didn’t want it bothering you so I oiled them. Simple as that.” His hand slapped the counter.
Gisella studied him. “You’ve just told me two different stories. And I don’t believe either one.”
Steve glared and crossed his arms across his chest. That was fine with her. As long as she could see them, he wasn’t reaching for a weapon.
She looked him in the eye. A muscle jumped in his cheek and she followed her gut feeling. “I think you let Jasper West in my room to leave that message on my shower curtain. And when you heard the squeaky door, you decided to come back and oil it.”
“What?” he exploded. His eyes hardened and his hands once again slapped the counter only to curl into fists. “Why would you accuse me of something like that?” He lifted one fist and shook it in her direction. “Because I have prison tats?”
“No,” Gisella stated calmly, “because it makes sense. You have something bordering an obsessive compulsive disorder when it comes to cleaning, don’t you?”
Surprise flickered and he didn’t deny it. Then he shrugged. “So what? I was on the cleaning crew at the prison. It helped pass the time.”
“Those hinges would have driven you nuts from the time you heard them to the time you got there to oil them. If the last person in that room complained about the noise, you would have oiled the hinges immediately. I don’t think you even knew about them—until you heard them when you let Jasper in.”
Fury built in the man’s eyes and Gisella knew she’d scored a bull’s-eye with her deduction. Brock shifted away from her, moving to the left of the counter. “Why don’t you come out from behind there, sir, and let’s sit over here and talk?”
Steve moved as though to comply—until his right hand dropped out of sight. Brock had his weapon in his hand only a fraction of a second before Gisella had hers.
“Don’t do it,” Brock ordered. “Take your hand off the weapon.”
Gisella noticed him watching the clerk using the mirror behind him. Steve froze and Gisella scrambled over the counter. She grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back to cuff him. Breathing hard with the surge of adrenaline, she started coughing.
And coughing.
Brock simply covered the man until she recovered. Steve turned his head and smirked. “What’s the matter? Can’t breathe underwater?”
Brock’s indrawn breath sounded harsh to her ringing ears. “Ignore him, Brock,” she gasped. “At least that answers one question.”
“Now for the second,” Brock growled. “Was it you who let Jasper into Gisella’s room?”
“I want a lawyer.”
They called the sheriff and after expressing his disgust at the trouble they seemed to find, they spent the next two hours dealing with Steve’s surly attitude and his lawyer, the same one who’d represented Jasper West.
Surprisingly enough, Steve seemed to be more concerned about getting someone to cover the desk at the hotel than about the fact that he was being arrested for helping Jasper leave his threatening message, and for the attempted murder of a Texas Ranger.
Gisella and Brock sat in an office at the police station filling out paperwork on the events of the night. “I wonder if he’s also responsible for blowing up my car?” Brock muttered.
“Probably. I have a feeling those cameras that he claimed were broken, aren’t.” She typed the last sentence and pressed print. “But the crime scene unit from El Paso is at the hotel now. Hopefully, with a little pressure from Ben, they’ll make this case a priority and get everything processed as fast as possible.” The concrete block complete with handcuffs and chain had been bagged and given to the crime scene unit upon arrival. The sheriff had come to pick up Steve, taken their report—and no doubt grumbled all the way back to his office. Once the proper authorities had arrived, Gisella and Brock made their way to the sheriff’s office to finish paperwork and question Steve. “I’m done, how about you?”
“Almost.”
“Honestly, you’d think one of them would offer up a full confession for a lighter sentence or some kind of deal with the District Attorney,” she muttered. “But nothing. They’re both closed up tighter than a clam. It makes me wonder.”
“I know. They’re either deathly afraid of whoever they’re protecting or…”
“They expect that person to get them off with only a slap on the wrist.”
She sighed and coughed, her lungs burning. But there was one more thing she wanted to do before calling it a night. “I want to drive out to the border station and check out the crossing.” She glanced at him. “I mean, we know the drugs aren’t coming over right in front of the Border Patrol’s eyes, but maybe by seeing the area, we can kind of
get a feel for it.”
“For possible entry points?”
She nodded. “We’re sure not getting anywhere talking to people around here. The sheriff, with some help from the state police, is taking care of Ina’s murder. The crime scene unit has the hotel. Steve and Jasper aren’t talking. However, the sheriff said they found one interesting thing in Steve’s possession.
“What’s that?”
“A key to a rental cabin on the lake here in Boot Hill. Had the tag on the ring and everything. Very easy to track down.”
“What would he need a rental cabin on the lake for? Does he live there?”
“No. That’s the strange thing. He lives behind the hotel.”
Brock shook his head. “Weird.”
“Definitely.” She rubbed the back of her neck.
“What?”
“While we’re waiting on Jasper or Steve to decide to talk, why don’t we visit the border crossing?”
Brock frowned at her. “I think you should probably rest. You almost drowned.”
She frowned right back at him. “I’m fine.” She was tired and wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and sleep for a few hours but the image of her dead fellow Ranger and friend, Captain Pike, kept her going.
“Something’s bothering me,” she murmured.
“What’s that?”
“How did Steve know I would go swimming at that particular time? It was a total impulse swim.”
Brock nodded, not surprised at her question. She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve already thought about that, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“And your conclusion?”
“He was watching us. 24/7. Those little security monitors behind the desk probably made his job pretty easy.”
Gisella blew out a breath and muttered, “Thanks for the confirmation.”
“You’ve been thinking the same?”
“Of course. And I don’t think he’s the only one. I think whoever doesn’t want us here has paid eyes all over this town.” She paused then shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re here to do a job and watched or not, we’re going to do it.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I like the way you think.”
Gisella stifled the urge to giggle. Instead, she scoffed, “Since when?” He shot her a mock-wounded look. She ignored it. “Seriously, all kidding aside, I just want to ride out to the border and look around. It’s not far, just a couple of miles.”
Still looking like he didn’t approve, he nodded. “I know where it is. I’ve been out that way a few times.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
He blew out an aggravated sigh. “Fine, but if I think you’re suffering any side effects, we’re coming back.”
She rolled her eyes and waved him to the vehicle. She’d just keep quiet about the fact that fatigue pulled at her with an insistent tug. She also keep to herself the fact that her chest hurt from coughing.
But she was breathing fine. She could make it to the border for a look around.
Brock rubbed his chin and frowned as he drove. “I was thinking that it’s possible Steve had something else in mind with that block of cement and handcuffs and just lucked out at seeing you walk to the pool.”
“What do you mean?”
“I agree someone is watching the hotel. It might have even been Steve. Could be just a kid being paid to watch our comings and goings who reports in every once in a while. However, there’s a lake on the edge of town. Steve had a key to a cabin on the lake. I’m guessing whoever rigged that block of cement had something else in mind.”
“Like sending one of us to the bottom of the lake?”
“Maybe. I mean, he couldn’t count on the fact that you would go swimming or that you would be alone when you went. I think this was a crime of opportunity. He could see on the monitor that the pool was empty. He could also see you were alone when you entered the building. He grabbed his stuff and took advantage of the moment. He probably thought, why not use the pool instead of the lake?”
Gisella pondered his reasoning and couldn’t find fault with it. Until Steve decided to talk, it sounded like a plausible explanation.
Gisella’s phone rang. “Hello, Ben.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m all right. Tired, but glad to be alive.”
“The crime scene team found something interesting in all of the clerk’s cleaning supplies.”
“What’d they find?”
“Chloroform.”
She frowned. “Chloroform? Okay. What else?”
“They’ve bagged the weapon he had behind the counter and they found a stash of cash in the safe. State police are questioning the rest of the hotel guests, but my bet is the cash was payment for getting rid of you.”
Gisella blew out a breath. “All right.”
“And then there was the email.”
“That said?”
“How Steve was to sneak into your room at night, use the chloroform and dump you in the lake handcuffed to the concrete block.”
Her stomach hurt. But for the grace of God and her putting it all together with the hinges… She shuddered. “Did you find who sent the email?”
“It came from one of the library computers. The account was bogus, listed to a John Doe.”
She grimaced. “Okay, thanks for the update, Ben.”
“Take care. And watch your back. Just because this particular guy is taken care of, doesn’t mean someone else isn’t ready to take his place.”
“Yeah.” She hung up and filled Brock in.
Brock’s jaw formed into a block of concrete. “So those oiled hinges were to serve another purpose.”
“Looks like it. Without them squeaking, depending on how soundly I was sleeping, I would have been a pretty easy target.” She pictured it in her mind and gave another shiver.
“How did you put it all together? What made you pick up on the OCD stuff?”
For a minute she didn’t answer then she blew out a sigh and said, “My brother had OCD. I think that’s why he turned to drugs. To help him deal with the stress of it all. My parents wouldn’t admit that he had a problem so there was no getting him the kind of help he needed.”
Brock’s warm hand reached out and covered hers. “I’m sorry.”
She squeezed his fingers, grateful for his presence, thankful that he’d found her in time. “Thank you.”
Arriving to the border crossing, still sitting in the car, Gisella looked at the fence. Part of a two-thousand-mile border fence erected a few years ago, it was an effort by Homeland Security to halt illegal alien entry into the United States—or at least cut down on the numbers.
But it didn’t stop all of the drug runners, illegal aliens and possible terrorists. The cameras and alarms weren’t infallible and people still managed to get over the fence. Her question was: How were they consistently getting the drugs across the border and into Boot Hill—and beyond—without being caught?
This was what she’d been assigned to figure out. This was the job she loved, her calling in life. And she was just now getting around to really doing what needed to be done. Why? Because she’d been occupied with one incident after another. From Brock’s car exploding to Ina’s murder to her near drowning.
And she realized something.
“It’s all been a distraction,” she whispered.
Brock looked at her. “What do you mean?”
The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. “Everything that’s happened has been to keep us from coming here—and my guess is, if one or both of us ended up dead, so much the better.”
His right brow lifted as though she spoke a language he didn’t understand. “Seriously, think about it.” Earnestly, she held out a hand as though to compel him. “We never made any secret about why we were here.”
He cocked his head and looked at her. “True.”
“So if the drugs are coming over the border—and we know they are, even if we can’t prove i
t, yet—then all the smugglers had to do was keep us from coming here and snooping around.”
Brock rubbed his chin. “Well, when you put it like that…”
“Exactly.” She pulled on her gloves and got out of the car, still processing everything. “Let’s walk the fence, okay?”
He climbed out after her. “Sure.”
“Hey, Ranger, what are you two doing here?”
Niles Vernon.
Gisella turned to see the man bundled up in a heavy Border Patrol jacket, warm hat and gloves. She flashed him a smile. “Just thought I’d see what the border crossing was like down here.” She could see her breath hover in the air when she talked.
It was cold today. In Boot Hill, the average low temperature in January hovered around freezing. Her lungs still felt tortured and she coughed in an effort to clear them. It helped. Some.
Niles shrugged. “Like any other border crossing, I reckon. When you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”
Brock and Niles shook hands. Gisella started walking, her eyes probing for holes in the fence, a break in it. Anything that would explain how—and where—the drugs were coming in.
Brock came up behind her. “See anything?”
“Nothing.”
“What exactly are you looking for?” Niles questioned.
Gisella sighed and gave another cough. “I’m not sure. I guess I thought I’d just come down here and…” She waved a hand in dismissal.
“Hey,” Brock interrupted, “is that part the graveyard where we found Ina?”
Niles shoved his gloved hands into his coat pockets. “Yeah. It’s the only graveyard in Boot Hill and it backs up to the fence.” Gisella stepped forward to get a better look. Large bushes lined the chain-link fence and she realized that the night Ina had been killed, she’d been so focused on the area surrounding the murder, she’d not paid attention to how close they’d been to the border.
Niles blew out a sigh. “Well, you showed up at the right time. Come on this way and I’ll show you where I think some people have been sneaking across.”
Gisella pulled her attention away from the graveyard and followed Niles. Brock brought up the rear once again. He’d been awfully quiet. She looked back at him. “Are you all right?”
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