Scorned Justice: The Men of Texas Rangers Series #3 (Men of the Texas Rangers)

by Margaret Daley

  “I should know something for you by the end of the day. With Judge Morgan on the Petrov trial, I’ll let Detective Nelson know. This could be connected.”

  “That was what I was thinking. I haven’t said anything to Rebecca, and I’ll stay with her until I hear from you or Nelson.”

  “That’s good. The Russian Mafia is ruthless.”

  Brody pocketed his phone as Rebecca and her nieces came out of the cafe. “Are y’all ready to leave? I thought I would rescue Hattie and Jake from my dad.” And make sure Dad’s all right. He isn’t used to doing much during the day.

  “Let’s check on Thomas and see what Tory wants to do.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He would feel better when he got Rebecca back to the Circle S Ranch—and he wouldn’t feel completely at ease until he knew who had been driving the truck. Another consequence of her being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or something more. Either way, she needed protecting.

  J. R. paced in front of his blue Malibu in the hospital parking lot. The ranger had left with the judge and her nieces. Probably going back to the ranch. Was there someone else trying to kill her? If the driver of the pickup reached her a second later, she would have been hurt at the very least. He didn’t like this one bit.

  As he placed a call, he leaned back against the hood of his car, staring at the street that ran in front of the cafe. “She almost got run down by a pickup today.”

  “What happened?”

  “She and one of her nieces were crossing the street to go to the cafe.” J. R. described the incident, then finished with, “She’s lucky to be alive. I could swear the person driving meant to run her down.”

  “No one is going to steal my revenge. Keep an eye on her. She’s mine.”

  “I had to give the ranger my cell number.”

  “The throwaway phone?”

  “Of course. I might not have graduated from high school, but I ain’t an idiot.”

  “I know that. Just another thing she needs to pay for. You know what you have to do next.” The phone went dead.

  J. R. shoved off his hood and climbed into his Malibu. How in the world was he supposed to keep an eye on the judge and case his next target, too?

  “It’s good to get away from the courtroom for a couple of hours, and I love to eat here,” Rebecca said as she took a booth at the back of the diner on Monday.

  Laura, her law clerk, slid into the place across from her. “This is a dive, even by my standards, which aren’t as classy as yours. How in the world did you find this?”

  “This dive has the best burgers in town, and the French fries are to die for.”

  “Please don’t say that after your weekend.” Laura glanced at the man standing near them, his back against the wall. “Should we ask the marshal to join us? He wasn’t too happy we came here. Maybe the burger will put him in a better mood.”

  “He declined when I asked him earlier. He’d rather keep his attention focused on protecting me. It feels so strange having someone following me around. As a judge, I’ve never had this happen before.”

  “You’ve never had this kind of trial either.”

  The waitress stopped at the booth, and Rebecca ordered her usual while Laura went with a chef salad.

  After the waitress left, Laura leaned forward. “I hope the salad is as good as the burgers I’m smelling.”

  “You should have gotten one.”

  “I’m on a diet.”

  Rebecca laughed, surprised at how nice it felt to do that after an intense morning of jury selection—still not completed. “You’re always on a diet.”

  “I don’t have your slender genes.”

  “Is there such a thing as a slender gene?”

  “I don’t know, but no matter what I do I can’t seem to lose much weight. I think it has to do with the fact that I sit at a desk or in a courtroom all day.”

  “That might have something to do with it. You need to go for a walk when you get home in the evening. It’s getting cooler now.”

  “You do that?”

  “No, I use a treadmill, which will keep my bodyguard,” Rebecca nodded toward the marshal behind her, “happy.”

  “Around-the-clock protection?”

  “Yes. Deputy U.S. Marshal Randall Wentworth arrived at the ranch yesterday while Brody was there. Between him and Detective Nelson, I’m stuck with someone following me all the time. Not a feeling I like.”

  The corners of Laura’s mouth drooped. “But necessary. I think this Brody and Detective Nelson are right. Something’s going on.”

  “I agree, especially after the police found the white pickup abandoned several blocks away from the hospital. No prints. Stolen.”

  “And no one saw anything?”

  “At least no one who’ll say they did.”

  “Do you blame them?”

  “No. This whole trial is about intimidation and revenge. These gangs are good at that.”

  “I’d be so scared right now. You don’t seem to be. Aren’t you worried?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “I’m in the Lord’s hands. I can’t let these people intimidate me, or I couldn’t function at all. What kind of life is that?” At least she was trying desperately to approach her situation in that manner. But at night the fear crept into her mind, robbing her of any peace.

  The waitress placed their food in front of them. “Would you like anything else?”

  “No, this smells great.” Rebecca smiled at the young woman who must be new at the diner.

  When she left, Laura stabbed at her salad. “I thought when your brother had his accident that you would delay the trial or step down.”

  “No way. Although I think my brother’s accident was just that, especially after his cellphone didn’t reveal anything suspicious, I won’t let others see any kind of weakness in me. They would circle me like the vultures they are and go in to tear me apart when they thought I’d given up. I’m not going to let the Russian Mafia win. Thomas is in excellent hands. Tory is staying at the hospital a lot and is keeping me up-to-date. And I’m seeing him when I can.” Rebecca bowed her head and said a prayer over her food.

  Midway to bringing her fork to her mouth, Laura stopped. “How do you do it? Keep such a positive attitude when everything is falling apart?”

  “Because if I don’t, then I’ve lost. I can’t always control what happens to me, but I can control how I react. Not always easy but something I keep working on. My brother needs prayers, good medical attention, and positive thoughts around him. I can give him those at least. I can’t give him his health back.” Frustration churned Rebecca’s stomach.

  Laura took a swallow of her coffee. “Yes, but doctors can’t always fix everyone.”

  “Doctors can’t, but the Lord can. It’s in His hands now.”

  Laura lifted an eyebrow. “Just as you are?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Why don’t you come to church with me on Sunday?”

  Laura shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s a little late for me.”

  “Late? You’re forty years old. Has that stopped you from recently applying and getting into law school?”

  “No, but that’s not the same thing.”

  “I agree. It’s much more important than what a person’s job is. But it’s your call, Laura.”

  “You mean you’re not going to try and persuade me?”

  “I’m here to answer questions if you have them. The decision is yours.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Laura took another bite. “Tell me about this Brody Calhoun. You haven’t mentioned him before, other than that he and your brother were best friends growing up. It sounds like he’s taking a personal interest in you. Calling a couple of times this morning to make sure you’re all right.”

  “He’s a friend of mine, too.” But as Rebecca said the words, they didn’t quite sound true to her. He’d been at the ranch all weekend, except when he took his dad back home and made sure h
is niece came over to stay with his father, despite Sean’s protestations.

  “What does he look like?”

  “Short, dark hair. Gray eyes that gleam like sunlight striking silver. In good physical condition. He’s nice to look at.”

  “I’ve got to meet him. Have him come by the office sometime.”

  “I thought you liked Detective Nelson,” Rebecca said with a chuckle.

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t look at other men. Besides, Detective Nelson doesn’t know I like him.”

  “Maybe we need to change that.”

  “How? I’m certainly not going to tell him how I feel, and you’d better not either.”

  Rebecca held up her hands, palms out. “No. Never. But you get all flustered when he comes by.”

  “That’s because I like him. I don’t think that’s going to change.”

  “Let me think on it. Maybe I can come up with something.”

  “Rebecca Morgan, you may be my boss, but don’t forget we’re friends, too.”

  “Never.” Rebecca finally took the first bite of her hamburger, juicy and delicious. Closing her eyes, she savored its rich, grilled favor. And for just a moment she could forget about all that had happened in the past few days. It was just Laura and her, having one of their lunches, talking about life and men.

  A crash sent her heart pounding against her rib cage. Her eyes flew open. The busboy had dropped a tray full of dishes. Her peaceful moment vanished, and everything that had transpired lately came crashing down on her, reminding her of the Deputy U.S. Marshal sitting at the next table.

  Late Friday afternoon, Rebecca sank into the chair behind her desk in her office and covered her face with her hands, tired from the week of selecting jury members and then hearing opening arguments. But at least the trial would proceed with the witnesses on Monday. Finally.

  She could now spend some quality time with Aubrey and Kim at the ranch for two whole days. Laura had even said she would like to go to church with her on Sunday. And, best of all, Thomas was being moved to a regular room this morning. Although he hadn’t woken up, his condition was stable and the doctor was more optimistic about his recovery than he had been at the beginning of the week.

  A knock sounded at her door. Rubbing her hands down her face, she lifted her head and released a long sigh. What now?

  She pushed to her feet, crossed the office, and opened the door. “Come in, Charlie.” As Detective Nelson of the San Antonio Police Department entered, she leaned out of the entrance and said to Deputy U.S. Marshal Randall Wentworth, who was still guarding her, “I want to leave as soon as I’m through talking with the detective.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  After shutting the door, she turned toward Charlie Nelson. “What’s happening? Lately I don’t hear from you unless something is wrong.”

  “Goes with the trial you’re on.” His frown carved deep lines into his face. “One of our witnesses has slipped away from the safe house.”

  “Willing or unwilling?”

  “We think willing. There was no indication otherwise. The officers protecting him said he’d been talking about the trial a lot. Agitated. Pacing.”

  “So someone got to him and scared him enough to leave. How did that happen?”

  “Don’t know, but believe me, I’ve launched an investigation into it.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Ben Fuller.”

  “One of the key witnesses.”

  “But not the only one. I’ve tightened security around the other two witnesses. We can’t afford to lose another one.” The grooves in the detective’s craggy face spoke of his exhaustion. This case had taken up most of his time—and had done so for all the people involved.

  Rebecca longed for life to return to normal—if it ever would. If Thomas didn’t regain consciousness, she didn’t see how it could. She was the girls’ guardian. She’d always wanted children, but when Garrett died, she’d given up on that dream. Becoming permanent guardian to the girls was unthinkable because that would mean Thomas was in a coma or . . . No, she wouldn’t think about that.

  “I have something else to tell you, but Laura asked me to wait until the trial was over for the day.”

  “Obviously it isn’t to tell me you found out who was driving the truck that nearly hit me.”

  “I wish. We do have a couple of leads. One man, an older gentleman, could describe the person he saw fleeing the truck.”

  “When did he come forward?”

  “Yesterday, but I wanted to check him out before I said anything to you. He owns a shop near the vacant lot and was putting some things in his window when the pickup drove into the lot and the man left it. I have a sketch artist with him and will have a picture to show you soon. I’ll drive it out to the ranch.”

  “That sounds like some good news for a change. Why would Laura want you to keep it from me? I could have used that earlier.”

  “That isn’t what I needed to tell you.” He drew in a deep breath. “Thomas received a bouquet of dead flowers this afternoon.”

  7

  The box of dead roses was on his bed. It was waiting for him when he was moved into his room. The box of dead roses was on his bed. Your sister-in-law was very upset and demanded answers.” Detective Nelson sat across from Rebecca, who sank into a chair in front of her desk.

  “How could that have happened?” she whispered more to herself than to Charlie.

  “It had to have happened in the twenty-minute window between preparing Thomas’s room and bringing him up to it. Your sister-in-law saw the box and hurried to take it off the bed while the orderlies transferred Thomas to his bed. The nurse was settling your brother in when Mrs. Sinclair opened the box and screamed. On top of the bouquet, like the one you received, there was a note with a skull and crossbones on it—the symbol of the Dos Huesos Cruzados Gang. It was written in blood.”

  “Human?”

  “Yes. There was a severed finger in the box, probably what was used to draw the symbol.”

  “Is DNA being run on it to see if it matches anyone in the system?”

  “Yes, but it will take some time. Mrs. Sinclair called the governor. We should get the test results back by tomorrow. It pays to know people in high places.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense. I could understand if it was from the Russian Mafia. But a note from the Dos Huesos Cruzados Gang?”

  “Maybe we’ll know more if we have a DNA match. The severed finger is a signature of the Russian Mafia we’ve been dealing with.”

  “You think someone is out there, dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “From which group—the Dos Huesos Cruzados Gang or the Russian Mafia?” Rebecca’s head pounded from stress and exhaustion. It just kept getting worse with each passing day.

  “I don’t know. The message is confusing.”

  Another knock cut through the quiet, causing Rebecca to flinch. She stiffened.

  Charlie rose and moved quickly to the door. Before he reached it, Brody pushed it open. The tense set to Charlie’s stance relaxed.

  “I just came from the hospital. A guard is being put on Thomas, and the number of people who go and in out of his room will be limited.” Brody came to Rebecca and touched her shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Yes . . . no.” The touch of his hand on her calmed the racing of her heart, but weariness still clung to her like a second skin. All she wanted to do was sleep, though she doubted she would be able to.

  “The governor has asked me to be in charge of Thomas’s and your protection. I’ll be working with the U.S. Marshals and the local law enforcement agencies. He wants to send a message to these thugs that in the state of Texas intimidation will not be tolerated. He doesn’t want us to go through another trial.”

  “What does all this mean?”

  Brody’s gaze linked with hers. “It means I’ll be staying at the ranch with you. My niece will take care of my dad. Although he says he doesn’t need anyone to look in on him, I’ll
feel better if someone does. Samantha won’t mind.”

  “I can’t have that. You came back to San Antonio to be with him and take care of him. Do you think he would mind coming to the ranch?”

  Brody grinned. “Dad? I don’t think he’d mind at all, especially since he loves Hattie’s cooking. He’ll think he’s on vacation. He doesn’t have to eat any of my food for a while. Will Tory be all right with it?”

  “You’ll be there for everyone’s protection. I can’t imagine her minding. Don’t worry. Half the house is mine, not that I think we’ll be drawing a line down the middle and confining you to only that half of the house.”

  Brody threw back his head and laughed. “That would be interesting.” He turned his attention to Charlie. “I’ve talked with your captain. We’re forming a task force concerning the targeting of the judge and the apparent connection to the trial. I specifically asked for you. Are you okay with that?”

  “It would have been hard to keep me off the task force.”

  “Good. We need to find the driver of the pickup and see if there’s a connection to either the gang or the mafia. Also we need to find where the flowers came from.”

  “Not to mention who the finger belongs to.” Charlie started for the door. “A Blooms and Such box was used to send the dead roses to Judge Morgan. The flower shop didn’t know anything about it. I’ll try them first. Good thing I’m not married. It looks like a long evening ahead.”

  “Also Detective Zed Moore is at the hospital going through the security tapes to see if he can find the perpetrator behind the bouquet of flowers.”

  As Charlie left, Laura entered Rebecca’s office, blushing as she passed the detective, and mumbled a few words Rebecca couldn’t hear. She hid her smile behind the hand that she rubbed across her chin.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting, but before I go home, I wanted you to know that your sister-in-law called. She was extremely upset and needed to make sure you stop by the hospital before going to the ranch.”

  “When did she call?”

  “Right before I took the papers over to the DA’s office before he left for the weekend.”