Lone Wolf Lawman

by Delores Fossen

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jericho grumbled.

  Weston stood, faced Canales. “Your campaign isn’t even on my radar. I’ll do whatever it takes to catch the killer and keep Addie safe.”

  “I’ll call you back,” Boggs said to the person on the other end of the line, and with his gaze fixed on Addie, he put his phone away. “Are you in danger?”

  The burst of air that left her mouth wasn’t from laughter. “Yes. That’s why it’s important to know if you ever met my birth father. I need to know who he is so he can be stopped.”

  Boggs nodded. “You think those letters really could be from him?”

  “They could be,” she settled for saying. No sense getting into the ones he’d sent Weston.

  “The letters will be analyzed,” Weston explained, “and I’m sure the FBI will want you to go through hypnosis or something to see if you can remember if you ever met this guy.”

  “Hypnosis?” Canales piped in. “That’s not a good idea.”

  When Canales didn’t explain, they all stared at him.

  “I had a rough childhood,” Boggs admitted. “Ira’s just worried that digging up old bones might be bad for my mental state. And the campaign. People don’t want to hear about a poor kid who clawed his way out of abuse and poverty. They want to see me with my beautiful wife of nearly twenty-five years and know that I stand for the same honest and upright values they stand for.”

  Weston added some profanity under his breath. “How bad do you think your mental state and the campaign will be if another woman is killed and you could have done something to prevent it?”

  “Point taken,” Boggs said, but it was clear from Canales’s scowl that he didn’t agree.

  Boggs turned to Addie again. “I’d hoped by seeing you that I might remember if I’d ever met your father. Your birth father,” Boggs corrected. “I thought maybe you’d look like him and that I’d recognize you or something.”

  “Do you?” she wanted to know.

  Boggs glanced back at Canales, and for a moment she thought Canales would be able to silence his boss with the stern look he was giving him. He didn’t.

  “Ira, you remember I told you about the little girl that the daycare woman had for a while?” Boggs asked.

  Canales didn’t roll his eyes exactly, but it was close. “You don’t think...” He cursed. “You think she’s that kid?” He stabbed his index finger toward Addie.

  That got her attention, and Addie slowly rose to her feet. Canales’s question had her heart racing. Her breath, too.

  “Over the years, I’ve talked to as many people as I could who lived within a fifty mile radius of where you were found. Because I figured your birth father had probably been in the area, too. A couple of months back, I met a woman named Daisy,” Boggs explained. “She babysat a little girl for a while.”

  Addie jumped right on that. “Why would you think it was me?”

  “Because the age and description are right. Blond hair, big blue eyes. Like yours. I figured if you truly were that little girl and if the killer was right about me having known him, then I might remember meeting you. Might remember meeting the killer, as well. But I don’t recall running into any man who looked like that child. Or like you.”

  “But it’s possible?” she pressed.

  After several long moments, Boggs nodded.

  That put her right back in the chair. They might have a link, though it was a slim one. What were the odds that Boggs would have seen her as a child?

  Not likely.

  But if Addie had indeed been with Daisy, then the woman might be able to answer a lot of questions.

  “I’ll get you some water,” Weston insisted.

  She must look as shaken as she felt for him to make that offer. More than anything she wanted answers, but Addie was afraid those answers weren’t going to be ones she liked.

  Nor would the answers necessarily make this danger disappear.

  Weston left the room for just a minute and returned with three paper cups of water. He gave one to her and handed the others to Canales and Boggs. Canales drank his down without stopping. Not Boggs, though. He looked at Weston, his forehead bunching up, and he put the cup on the table.

  “Thanks, but I’m not thirsty,” Boggs said.

  “Why didn’t you tell the FBI about this Daisy?” Jericho asked.

  Boggs shrugged. “I wasn’t sure it was connected. I’m still not sure.”

  Jericho took out a notepad and pen and dropped it on the table. “I want Daisy’s full name and any contact information you have.”

  “Daisy Vogel,” Boggs provided, and he stood. “I don’t remember her address, but I’m sure you can find it.”

  Weston looked at Canales, no doubt wondering if he had more info.

  “Never met the woman. I knew Alton back then, but I never crossed paths with Daisy.” Canales crushed his cup and tossed it into the trash can. “Just remember, I don’t want any of this backwashing onto the campaign. Are we finished here?”

  “For now,” Jericho answered.

  That was enough to get Canales moving. “Come on, Alton. We can’t be late for that fund-raiser.”

  “Let me know if you find Daisy.” Boggs reached out as if he might touch Addie’s arm, but he must have remembered her earlier reaction because instead he mumbled a goodbye and left with Canales.

  “I’ll see what I can do about getting Daisy’s number,” Jericho said to Weston, and he tipped his head to the trash can. “I’ll also bring back an evidence bag to take care of that. Too bad you couldn’t get Boggs to take the bait.”

  “Bait?” Addie repeated, turning to Weston when her brother walked out.

  Weston shrugged. “I wanted their DNA so we can compare it.”

  Addie felt her eyes widen. “You think one of them might be the Moonlight Strangler?”

  “They fit the profile.”

  That stalled her breath in her throat.

  “Are you okay?” Weston asked.

  She nodded. She was getting good at lying. Or so she thought. Weston saw right through her.

  “We just need to be sure,” he added. He slid his arm around her waist. Not a hug exactly. But close.

  All right, it was a hug.

  And Addie couldn’t help herself. She leaned against him.

  Had she really just been face-to-face with her birth father?

  “I thought maybe I’d feel something if I ever saw him,” she said. “Maybe some kind of genetic memory connection.”

  “You’re not like him. You probably won’t feel anything like that at all.”

  But she would feel something. So would Weston. Especially since her birth father had murdered Collette.

  “Will you ever be able to look at me, at the baby, and not think of Collette and her killer?” Addie wanted to snatch back the question as soon as she asked it. But it was too late.

  “I don’t think of them when I look at you,” he said as if choosing his words carefully. “Trust me, that’s not a good thing. Because it means I’m losing focus. And that might be dangerous for all of us.”

  Addie heard the footsteps in the hall, and she stepped away from Weston. But not before Jericho saw them. He scowled, of course. Probably because he thought she was on her way to another broken heart.

  She wasn’t.

  Once the danger was over, she would put some emotional distance between herself and Weston.

  “I got Daisy Vogel’s home phone number,” Jericho announced. “She has no record. Not even a parking ticket, and she’s lived at the same place for the past forty years. I thought you’d want to listen in while I try to call her.”

  Addie nodded. “I do.”

  She held her breath, watching Jericho press in the numbers. He put the call on speaker and waited. They didn’t have to wait long. A woman answered on the second ring.

  “Daisy Vogel?” Jericho asked.

  “Yes. And according to my caller ID, you’re Jericho Crockett.”

  “That’s r
ight. I’m the sheriff in Appaloosa Pass. I wanted to ask you a few questions about a case I’m working on.”

  “Crockett,” Daisy repeated, obviously ignoring Jericho’s response. “You live on the Appaloosa Pass Ranch?”

  “I do—”

  “Is your adopted sister there with you?” Daisy interrupted.

  Weston and Jericho looked as if they were debating the answer they’d give her, but Addie solved that for them.

  “I’m here,” Addie answered.

  Silence. For a long time.

  “Good.” Though it didn’t sound as if Daisy actually thought it was good. “The Crocketts named you Addie, right?”

  “They did.” And Addie waited through yet another long silence.

  “I figured you’d eventually find your way to me,” Daisy finally continued. “I knew sooner or later you’d find out.”

  Addie had to take a deep breath before she could ask the next question. “Find out what?”

  Daisy took a deep breath, as well. “If you want some answers about your past, come and see me. Because I know who you really are.”

  Chapter Eight

  As ideas went, this one was bad. Weston was sure of it.

  But he couldn’t see another way around it. Daisy had refused to say more on the phone, and after Jericho had called her back twice, the woman had hung up on him and hadn’t answered any other calls.

  Maybe Daisy had simply wanted to talk to Addie face-to-face, and this wasn’t some kind of trap to lure Addie into the open. However, Weston had seen a lot of things as a lawman, and he wasn’t about to trust some woman claiming to have information.

  I know who you really are, Daisy had told Addie.

  Well, he’d see about that.

  Ditto for Jericho, who was behind the wheel of the cruiser. In the front seat with him, Jericho had brought along Mack Parkman, one of the other deputies, just in case this bad idea went even further south. The cruiser was bullet-resistant, and with three lawmen around her, Addie stood a good chance of being safe.

  But a chance was far from being 100 percent.

  According to the GPS, Daisy lived forty miles from Appaloosa Pass, and they were already halfway there. However, Daisy’s place wasn’t exactly on the beaten path. She lived on a farm road in an old house that’d belonged to her late husband, who’d been dead for nearly thirty years. About the same amount of time the Moonlight Strangler had been killing.

  Weston hoped that wasn’t some kind of weird coincidence.

  “I don’t remember any woman named Daisy,” Addie insisted. She was leaning her head against the window, her eyes partly closed as if she were trying to coax those old memories into returning.

  “You were three years old, maybe younger. Of course you won’t remember her.”

  But the FBI would no doubt want to test that notion. The other times they’d hypnotized Addie and used drug therapy on her, they’d been specifically trying to get her to recall memories of the Moonlight Strangler. Now they would want to repeat that while pressing her about Daisy.

  “This is a long shot anyway,” Weston went on. “If Daisy really knew something about your past, then why hasn’t she already come forward? Especially once it was leaked that you’re the Moonlight Strangler’s biological daughter.”

  Addie made a sound of agreement. Then she paused. “Unless she thought he would kill her. Which he might.”

  Weston couldn’t dismiss that, and if Daisy turned out to be legit, the woman was in serious danger.

  Jericho must have caught some part of that conversation because he glanced back at them using the rearview mirror. But it was just a glance, and he returned to the call he was on with the crime lab.

  “Boggs or Canales might not keep quiet about Daisy,” Addie added under her breath.

  “Canales will.” Weston couldn’t say the same for Boggs, though. “Canales is more worried about the campaign than the investigation. Or your safety.”

  “Yes.” She drew in a long breath, repeated her response. “And I might know soon if he’s my birth father.” She lifted her head, looked at him. “But what about Boggs? You didn’t get his DNA.”

  No, and Boggs had seemed pretty darn suspicious when Weston had brought that cup of water into the interview room. Not Canales, though. Maybe because Canales had nothing to hide. Or perhaps he just hadn’t realized that Weston hadn’t served him the water out of the goodness of his heart.

  “There’ll be other opportunities to get Boggs’s DNA,” Weston told her.

  And maybe Daisy would tell them something— anything—that they could use to get a court order for the DNA test. Of course, with Boggs’s connections, money and reputation, it was going to take a lot to force him to contribute his DNA for a murder investigation.

  “Jericho’s running Ogden’s DNA, too,” he added. “Ogden’s too young to be the Moonlight Strangler, but Jericho thought maybe Ogden might have a record under an alias.”

  At least that’s the explanation Jericho had given Weston. Maybe that’s all there was to it. But it was possible Jericho had reasons he wasn’t willing to share with him. With anybody just yet. It made Weston wonder—did Jericho believe Ogden had some kind of blood connection to the Moonlight Strangler?

  “Jericho isn’t scowling at you as much as he was,” she whispered after glancing at her brother. Jericho was so involved in his conversation that he didn’t seem to hear her. Neither did Deputy Parkman, who was making his own calls, trying to get more background info on Daisy.

  “Should I be worried about Jericho’s lack of scowls?” Weston was only partly serious.

  They shared a very short, weary smile. “We both should be. Does he know the Moonlight Strangler warned us about teaming up?”

  “I told him. I arranged to have copies of all the letters sent to the sheriff’s office. Just like Boggs. Maybe together they’ll give us clues that we don’t already have.”

  “Maybe,” Addie said, not sounding very hopeful. “Jericho’s convinced we’ll find the killer soon. After that, don’t be surprised if he tries to pressure you into marrying me.”

  Weston hadn’t meant to hesitate, but he did, and that hesitation got Addie’s attention.

  She huffed. “He’s already talked to you about it.”

  “It came up in conversation. But probably not like you think. Jericho doesn’t believe I’m good enough for you. Because I lied to you about who I was. Because I left you.”

  Though he probably hadn’t needed to clarify that for her.

  “And there’s that part about my being the target of a serial killer,” she added. “One who murdered the woman you loved.” Addie leaned forward, making eye contact with him. “For the record, I’m not getting married just because I’m pregnant.” She shot a glare at her brother, who didn’t seem to be listening. “I can raise this baby just fine without a wedding ring.”

  “Jericho said something along those same lines.” Actually, it was exactly along those lines.

  “Well, good.” She sounded surprised that she and her brother were on the same page.

  But they weren’t on the same page with Weston.

  “Your birth father might not even know you’re pregnant,” Weston explained. “And if he did, he might back off.”

  Addie stared at him with her mouth slightly open. “Is that some kind of argument for a big public announcement to tell everyone that in about six months we’ll be parents?”

  The parent label mentally threw him for a moment. So had the comment about her birth father killing the woman he loved.

  That always felt like a twist of the knife.

  But Weston pushed both aside and continued. “He wouldn’t have to know the baby is mine. But I think your pregnancy should somehow make it to the press.”

  She stayed quiet a moment. “I don’t want him to know. It makes me sick to think he has any connection whatsoever to this baby. Besides, he warned you about us teaming up.”

  “We won’t present ourselves as a team. I
n fact, we can make sure everyone notices the tension between us. Which shouldn’t be hard.”

  Since the tension was there for anyone to see.

  She paused so long again that Weston was certain she was about to tell him no. But she finally nodded. “I don’t suppose it could hurt. Besides, it won’t be a secret for much longer. My jeans are already too tight.”

  Of course he had to look. Because he was stupid and male.

  And, of course, he noticed her jeans were indeed tight. But not in a bad kind of way. Addie’s curves had attracted him the first time he saw her, and they were still attracting him now.

  Weston was thankful that the GPS interrupted his gawking with instructions to take the next road. The moment Jericho made the turn, the house came into view. No way could they miss it because it was literally sitting in the middle of some pecan trees and pasture and was the only house in sight.

  As places went, it wasn’t the worst for security. The tall pecans weren’t that wide, so a gunman couldn’t use them to hide. He spotted only one vehicle, an old truck with blistered red paint. There was a barn, but it was a good fifty yards from the house. The barn doors were wide open, and he could see clear through to the other side. If a gunman was in there, then he was in the shadows.

  Something Weston would be looking for.

  In fact, Weston was looking so hard for possible security problems that he didn’t immediately notice Addie’s reaction. Addie pulled back her shoulders. Pulled in her breath, too.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did you remember something?”

  She shook her head. “No.” Addie tried to wave him off.

  “What?” Weston pressed.

  Another headshake. “I just thought I remembered a swing set. But not necessarily here. Nothing about this place looks familiar.”

  While he wasn’t sure that was true, Weston decided he wouldn’t pressure her. Not now anyway.

  “I’m going to try to get Daisy’s DNA,” he explained. “So if you notice her drinking from a cup or glass, and you get the chance to take it, do it.”

  “Her DNA?” Weston saw the realization flash through her eyes. “You think she could be my birth mother?”