You're Not Safe (Texas Rangers)

by Mary Burton

  The paramedic checked the IV running into Mitch’s arm. “He’s sustained a gunshot. We won’t know until we get him to the hospital.”

  Bragg was an expert at pushing back emotion and dealing with the worst kind of situations. Now, however, he struggled to keep focus. He took Mitch’s hand and squeezed it hoping he could convey in deed what words could not. He loved this kid like a son and would do whatever it took to save him. “Okay.”

  He released Mitch’s hand and latched onto his own fears with an iron grip. Mitch winced as the paramedics raised the gurney. “I threw my cell phone in the bed of his truck.”

  The first flicker of hope cut through the mire. “And if I know you, it’s fully charged.”

  “They left here an hour ago. There’s plenty of battery life so you can ping right in on that asshole.”

  “Good job.”

  Mitch winced. “I had the chance to save Greer and I blew it.”

  “She’d have been completely lost without you, and at the end of this day when I find her alive it will be because of you.”

  Mitch swallowed back emotions and nodded.

  Bragg leaned close, his gaze pinning the boy. “And your buddies, you didn’t let them down. They know that. Greer knows it. I know that. Now you need to believe it.”

  Mitch nodded.

  Bragg patted Mitch on the shoulder. “Mitch, can you describe the man that took Greer?”

  Mitch’s eyes darkened. “I can do better. I can give you the motherfucker’s name.”

  Greer awoke in stages, her mind a muddy, waterlogged mess. She was vaguely aware of cool grass and a warm breeze blowing over her. She was outside and for a half second wondered if she were camping.

  And then her senses cleared enough and she immediately remembered the sting of her attacker’s stun gun and of her legs crumbling. He’d pressed a rag to her face when she’d started to rouse and the foul chemical had knocked her out cold.

  Now, she sat up, ready to fight. Her head spun. Her stomach churned, and she thought she’d throw up. She turned to her side, prepared to wretch. But after a few deep breaths, her stomach held steady. A small victory in a war she suspected was long from over.

  She glanced up expecting to find someone looming over her. To her surprise she was alone under a sky filled with too many stars to count. She moved to stand but found her legs wobbly and unsure. Drawing in a breath, she tried again but her body would not cooperate.

  What was wrong with her?

  She studied the stand of woods in front of her and realized they were familiar. The woods at Pinewood Cemetery. She glanced back around her and found herself nose to nose with a headstone.

  JEFFREY ROBERT TEMPLETON.

  Jeff’s headstone.

  Panic rose up in her, choking her throat and she scrambled away from the slab of granite, now afraid to be close to it. Her legs and arms would not function, and she found herself crawling away from the marker, more desperate with each inch. This had once been a place of comfort, solace, and guilt, and now it terrified her because she remembered the dying wish she’d confessed to the group all those years ago . . . to be with her brother.

  Her heart thundered in her throat as she struggled to crawl. Panic clawed and sliced at her. She’d loved Jeff. In life she’d followed him like a silly puppy. And she’d carry her brother’s death with her for the rest of her life.

  But she did not want to join him in death. She wanted to live.

  “Where are you going?”

  She glanced up. To her shock she recognized the face. Only instead of kindness simmering behind the eyes, she found crazed longing. “Dr. Stewart?”

  “Greer.” A smile tipped the edge of his lips. “I guess you figured out by now why you’re here.”

  “I don’t understand, Dr. Stewart. Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m hurt you haven’t figured it out.”

  “Figured what out?” She’d beg if she had to. “Please, I don’t want to die.” She tried to sit up but her head spun.

  He knelt just a couple of feet from her and studied her face. “We’ve known each other a long time, Greer. You just don’t remember.”

  Her mind blurred, she searched his face. Eye color, hair color, weight, and the way he held himself didn’t produce any matches. But there was an intensity emanating she’d not seen in him before. That intensity triggered memories. The first conclusion to spring to mind didn’t make sense but despite logic she couldn’t help but whisper, “Jack?”

  A grin tugged at the edge of his lips. “I knew you wouldn’t forget me.”

  But she had forgotten him until just a day ago. If not for the deaths of the others she’d likely have never thought about him again. At the camp they’d barely spoken. He’d been a passing acquaintance. Clearly, his attachment to her was much stronger. “No. I didn’t forget.”

  “I’ve thought about this moment a lot over the years. Dreamed about it. I know life has been a struggle for you. I know it’s been hard.”

  “Dr. Stewart, I don’t want to die. I’m not that girl anymore.”

  “But you must. I just killed Mitch, a boy who reminds you of Jeff. You must be feeling the sharp knife of loss.”

  “Mitch.” She could barely speak his name. “He can’t be dead.”

  “He is,” Dr. Stewart whispered. “Dead like Jeff.”

  Tears clogged her throat and spilled over her cheeks. Oh, God. What would Bragg do?

  “Our core selves do not change, Greer, or should I say Elizabeth. You confessed your deepest desires that night at camp. And when you spoke I knew we were connected.”

  Dear God, he’d held on to an image for over a dozen years of a girl who no longer existed. “I’ve changed. My life has changed. I don’t want to die.”

  “I’ve seen you come here often. I’ve listened as you talked to your brother.”

  Her mouth felt dry and her breathing grew labored. Whatever was in her system was burrowing in and pulling her closer to unconsciousness. “I don’t want to join Jeff.”

  “That’s not true.” His voice was soft and soothing. “That was your dying wish.”

  Before she could respond, he straightened for a moment and glanced behind him. Eyes narrowing, he shook his head. “Shut up, Meg. Shut up.”

  She searched the darkness but saw no one. “Who is Meg?”

  “No one.”

  He grimaced and turned again. This time he seemed to wave someone away. “Shut up.”

  She searched the darkness but saw no one. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “How could you not see her laughing face? She’s mocking us both right now.”

  Dr. Stewart was hallucinating. If only her brain wasn’t cripplingly drugged she could argue. “Dr. Stewart, let me go.”

  Hands fisted at his side, he turned from his invisible tormentor. “Not until I give you your dying wish.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He smiled, dragged a shaking hand through his hair, and calmed. “You don’t remember what you said that night?”

  She moistened her lips. “My mind is getting foggy, Dr. Stewart.”

  He smoothed his hand over her hair. Gentle. “I know. I know. I won’t make you work for this.” He hesitated and then said in a low voice, “You said you could die happy if you knew for certain there’d been a second driver on that lonely road. You wanted to know the accident that killed Jeff and Sydney wasn’t your fault.”

  A jolt of energy shot through her system, cutting through the haze. “What are you talking about?”

  “My dear Elizabeth, you were right all those years ago. There had been a second driver on the road. A drunk driver who had caused you to drive off the road.”

  “I don’t understand. The police said there was no other driver.”

  “They found no skid marks. The driver intended to crash into you. That driver wanted to crash head on into your car and to die. But you veered. You saved yourself and you saved her. Unfortunately, Jeff and Sydney paid the
price for her selfishness.”

  She studied his face, blinked to clear her fading vision. “Who?”

  A satisfied smile eased from him. “Jennifer.”

  “What?”

  “Jennifer Bell.”

  “She never said a word.”

  “Not to you, but she caused your accident. She killed Jeff and Sydney. She kept the secret close but all these years that secret has eaten into her soul far deeper than the demons that had originally sent her out on that road long, long ago.”

  “I don’t believe it. She had a brother. He dove into a lake.”

  “A lie.” He pulled a tape recorder from his pocket. “Listen.”

  Jennifer’s slurred drugged voice said, “I wanted to die. The fight with my boyfriend had been awful. So I got behind the wheel of the car . . . and when I saw the headlights I thought if I could crash into that car my life would end, and I wouldn’t have to be perfect anymore.”

  A heavy silence and then Dr. Stewart’s gentle voice: “And what happened, Jennifer? It’s okay. You can tell me.”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  “Tell me. Tell me.”

  “The other car swerved. It missed me and I drove past. I drove for at least a mile before I decided to turn around and go back.” She sighed. “I saw what I had done. Two people were dead. And the other girl, I recognized her. I’d seen her at the club. She was in so much pain.”

  “You didn’t try to help that girl.”

  She whimpered. “No.”

  “And then you took the overdose and ended up at Shady Grove.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Elizabeth?”

  She began to weep. “I wanted to tell her and I almost did. And then I left the camp and life went on. I thought what was done was done.”

  “Do you want to say you’re sorry to Elizabeth now that you’re dying?”

  “I don’t want to die!”

  “Are you sorry ?”

  “Yes.”

  The tape clicked off.

  Tears dampened Greer’s face as she mourned not only for Jeff and Sydney but also for Jennifer. Greer understood carrying a burden so heavy your knees threatened to buckle.

  “So you see,” Dr. Stewart said, “the accident wasn’t your fault.”

  Greer wasn’t sure if she’d ever truly believe that. She shouldn’t have been driving that night. She’d been too young and too inexperienced. Would an experienced driver have avoided Jennifer? She’d never know.

  Though she struggled to keep alert, the drugs took a stronger hold. Though her mind rapidly fogged, one thought was razor sharp.

  She wanted to live.

  “You must hate her,” Dr. Stewart said.

  “No,” Greer said. “I don’t. I want to move on with my life.”

  He smoothed soft fingertips over her hair. “You can’t move on. You’re trapped in the past. You have been since the accident.”

  She had been trapped. But she wasn’t like that anymore. Somewhere along the way that first forced step toward the vineyard had been her journey to freedom. And now she had the beginnings of something with Bragg. A future to anticipate.

  Her tongue felt thick in a cottoned mouth. “My head is spinning.”

  He picked up her wrist and traced the faint scar. “Yes, it must be spinning hard. Soon, you’ll fall asleep, and as you do I’ll cut into this tender flesh as you did once. That’s what you wanted all those years ago . . . to just slip away. Now you can.”

  She clung to consciousness. That last time she’d cut her own wrist it had been seconds before the drugs had pulled her into unconsciousness. She’d not cared as her life had seeped from her body.

  Now, an unwelcome specter of death frightened her. She blinked hard and thought about Bragg and Mitch. Would they know this man had killed her or would they believe she’d taken her life? And dear God, her mother. What would she say when her body was found on Jeff’s grave? She’d be devastated.

  Anger rose in Greer and cut through some of the fog. “I’m not going to die. I am not.”

  His smile was gentle. “Of course you are, but don’t worry, I’m going to be right behind you. When you’re gone, I’ll find the courage to finally take the leap and follow you. We will all be together forever. Happy. Complete, just like at Shady Grove.”

  “Why do you want to die? You have so much.”

  His dull gaze reflected sadness. “Not really. The only person I ever really cared about was Meg and then you. I stayed here for you, but Meg keeps telling me I can’t stay here anymore. She is tired of waiting.”

  “What?” She struggled to sit up and when she couldn’t she focused on stringing her thoughts together.

  “My sister. She is with me always. She won’t leave me alone.” His voice grew agitated and he cursed.

  The connections between her thoughts frayed more and more with each passing second. She wanted to understand him. Wanted to ask questions but she couldn’t summon her voice.

  He rubbed his hand over her head. “That last night at camp you said we’d all be friends together and we all made a pact. We all promised we’d be friends. And then everyone left one by one. I thought you’d stay but you left and simply vanished.” He shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d leave me.”

  “We barely spoke at camp.” She tried to pull her wrist away from his grasp but he held her steady. She barely had the energy to lift her head.

  “But when we did, it was special. I recognized the connection and so did you.” He traced the old scar. “You wanted to die. Pills and a razor. Yes, you wanted it.”

  She shook her head and managed to ball her fingers into a fist.

  And then the glint of a razor in the moonlight. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  The slice was quick and clean and over in an instant. Warmth spread over her cold skin. She opened her eyes. Blood trailed from her wrists.

  Greer shook her head. “No, I don’t want to die.”

  The ping on Mitch’s cell phone led Bragg to the cemetery. He glanced at the digital map on the laptop in his car and traced the road ahead up a small hill. Jeffrey Templeton’s grave was at the top of that hill.

  He cut the lights of his SUV and scanned the hill ahead. Red running lights burned in the distance. For a split second Bragg was faced with a decision. Gun the engine and risk Stewart’s being alerted and killing Greer or cutting the engine and running the rest on foot hoping for the element of surprise.

  Greer’s life rested on a split second.

  He gunned the engine, his tires eating up the distance in seconds. As he crested the hill he saw Jack . . . Dr. Stewart . . . leaning over Greer. Blood from her wrists glistened under the glare of his headlights.

  Stewart rose and reached his hand around to his waistband. Bragg didn’t hesitate. He drew his weapon and fired three times, hitting Stewart squarely in the chest. The doctor stumbled back, but then lunged at Bragg. Many thought a bullet could bring a man right down, but shock and adrenaline could keep him moving for several more deadly seconds. Bragg fired again, hitting Stewart who this time fell beside Greer.

  Stewart gasped. His breath gurgled in his chest and he reached for Greer’s hand and whispered, “We made it, Meg. You, me, and Greer. We’ll be on the other side soon.” He closed his eyes and his breathing stopped.

  Bragg holstered his gun and ran to Stewart, handcuffing the man’s hands behind his back and rolling him away from Greer.

  As he pulled a bandana from his back pocket to wrap around her wrist, sirens wailed in the distance. He tightened the knot and tightly gripped the makeshift bandage, hoping the extra pressure would stem the flow of blood.

  He held Greer close against him. Pale in the moonlight, her face possessed a deadly stillness. “Greer! Baby. Wake up!”

  She didn’t move or speak.

  “Greer! Open your eyes! Open them, goddamn it!”

  Her eyes fluttered open and then focused on him. A smile flickered at the edges of her
mouth. “Bragg.”

  “It’s going to be all right, honey. Help is on the way.” As he spoke the sirens grew louder and louder until finally the flash of red lights radiated around them.

  “I didn’t do this. I didn’t . . .”

  He cradled her close, keeping a tight hold on her wrist. “I know. I know.”

  “Mitch?”

  “He’s okay. At the hospital.”

  “Thank God.”

  Tears choked his throat. He’d grown accustomed to a solitary life, making peace with the fact he was destined to be alone. Now the idea of living without Greer made him angry and fearful.

  She was his life, and he would be damned if he’d lose her.

  Epilogue

  Eight months later

  When the transfer to El Paso had crossed Bragg’s desk, the decision to retire had come more easily than he ever could have imagined. He’d loved being a Ranger. He had been with DPS ten years. But that part of his life was over.

  As he drove up the drive, the star pinned to his chest for the last time, a sense of peace washed over him as he stared at the rolling landscape. He turned off the rural route into the entrance of Bonneville Vineyards. He was home.

  The winter had been mild and the vines were strong and promised a good harvest come summer. Greer checked her vines daily and though they’d not seen each other in a week, he talked to her daily. He was anxious to hold her.

  He parked in front of the winery, now abuzz with activity. Construction of the winery, was complete and the fermenters and tanks had arrived last week. Out of the car, he savored the cool temperatures of early spring.

  The sound of a barking dog greeted him and Jasper, still the ugliest dog he’d ever seen, came bounding around the corner. At nine months he’d grown to his full size, which wasn’t saying much. He couldn’t tip the scales at twenty pounds, but he barked as if he were massive. When he spotted Bragg he wagged his tail and ran up to him.

  Bragg knelt down and scratched the dog between the ears. “How are you, boy? Keeping everyone safe?”