What a day! More than a few times during the trial she’d discovered Petrov drilling her with an intense gaze meant to unnerve her. She’d steeled herself and returned his look, but inside, her muscles knotted and her stomach roiled. All she could think about was what that man was responsible for. A member of the jury from the first trial was still missing.
Suddenly a thought struck her full force in the chest, snatching her breath. What if the finger in the bouquet box belonged to the missing juror? Or belonged to the missing witness who had slipped away from the police protecting him earlier today?
Lounging against the wall in the interview room at the police station, Brody crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his head as he stared at Serpiente while Charlie interrogated the leader of the Dos Huesos Cruzados Gang, who was slouching, with one arm slung over the back of the chair.
“I’m gonna do you a favor, Dee-tect-ive Nel-son,” the black-haired man with most of his visible body tattooed said, a taunt behind each word.
“You’re going to confess to one of the unsolved murders?”
Serpiente smiled, slowly revealing a front tooth with a diamond in it—or at least something that was supposed to look like one. Knowing the illegal activities attributed to his gang, Brody didn’t doubt it was real. The man’s outfit of frayed jeans and a white sleeveless T-shirt gave no indication that he ran a successful gang of thugs who were into anything that could turn a profit—from drugs to assassinations.
“My good dee-tect-ive, I was thinking I’d chat with you without my highly successful lawyer here, since I have nothing to hide.”
“So you do think some of the time.” The sneer in Charlie’s voice made Brody grin. “A dead body was found by the back door of Alexandrov’s pawnshop.”
“Man, why would anyone risk dropping a body off at the door of the pawnshop? Pure loco, if you ask me.” The expression on the gang leader’s face seemed genuinely confused.
“Somebody did, so why would they?”
Serpiente examined his fingernails, pushing his cuticles back. “Loco, as I said. I’m just a businessman with some car shops. I don’t know why you think I know anything about a murder.”
“Murder? I didn’t say that. All I said was that there was a dead body in the alley.”
“Oh, my mistake. If he wasn’t murdered, then why am I here?” His almost black eyes bore into Charlie then fell on Brody. He straightened, put his hands on the table, and stood. “I’ll be going then.”
“Sit.” Brody came forward and positioned himself across from the gang leader. His gaze bored into the man, in a silent skirmish between them. “You’re a person of interest in this murder.”
Serpiente bent across the table, his eyes narrowing. “Book me or let me go. I know nothing about this murder.” He started for the door. “I have an alibi.”
“You do?” Brody didn’t move, although the man was at the door, his hand on the knob. “How do you know when it happened? We don’t even know that yet.”
“Because I’ve been with—my employees at the shop for the past half a day since noon. I know for a fact that body hasn’t been there long. There is no way it could have been. Alexandrov knows what happens on that street.”
“So you think he killed the man and placed him at his own back door?”
Serpiente shrugged. “I would never do something like that, but the man is estupido. Why else did he come to San Antonio, my town?”
“To move in on your territory. Unless you sent him an invitation.”
Serpiente punched his fist into the door, the sound reverberating through the small room. Turning to face Brody, he pointed his finger at him. “They’re scum. They’ve made a big mistake.” Anger slashing across his face, he moved a couple of feet closer to Brody. “But I’m in a good mood today. One of Alexandrov’s esbirros has been taken care of by a good Samaritan. If I meet the man, I’ll give him a reward.”
As the gang leader turned to leave the room, Brody said, “You’d better get some ice for your hand. We wouldn’t want it to swell.”
Serpiente kept walking. Brody and Charlie followed him. At the end of the corridor, a police officer with a man in his early forties rounded the corner, another, younger man right behind him. Serpiente came to a halt, his chest puffing out, his hands clenched at his sides.
“I’ll escort Serpiente out of the station. You take Alexandrov.” Brody strode to the gang leader and gestured toward the exit.
Alexandrov slowed his step when he neared Serpiente. Brody tensed, poised to act if he needed to. The rage on the Russian’s face homed in on the gang leader with such force Brody was sure the two would have killed each other if they weren’t in a police station, unarmed.
“You will not get away with murdering one of my men,” Alexandrov muttered, then kept going to the interview room.
“Estupido.” Serpiente started toward the exit. “He must be guilty. He brought his lawyer.”
When Brody returned to the interview room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the Dos Huesos Cruzados Gang wasn’t responsible for the dead man in the alley behind the pawnshop. By the time Alexandrov left, Brody felt something wasn’t right about the whole situation, and yet he couldn’t figure out what was bothering him.
“That was certainly fruitful,” Charlie said, coming back into the room after escorting the mafia leader out.
“It would have been nice if one had confessed, but we knew that wouldn’t happen. From the show in the hallway, though, Alexandrov thinks it’s Serpiente.” Brody stared at the place where Alexandrov and his lawyer had sat a few minutes ago.
“So do I.”
“I’m not so convinced. Why would Serpiente care about Rebecca? Besides, he seemed surprised by this death. I know he’s got a reputation in town, but I don’t think it includes acting.”
“Well, we know Alexandrov doesn’t care about Judge Morgan. So why would he kill his own man and prop him up behind his pawnshop? If he had a beef with the man, I don’t see him leaving the guy in the alley, especially with the heat Alexandrov is under right now.”
“In the hall he said to Serpiente something about murdering one of his men, but in the interview room, he acted like he didn’t know the man when you showed him a picture of the dead guy.”
“Maybe he thought it was one of his men until I showed him the picture. I suppose the man might not be involved with the Russians, or maybe Alexandrov doesn’t know everyone working for him.”
“If he doesn’t know now, he will by tomorrow. But then he might not be telling us the truth. He could know who the man is but not want us to know. It’s not like he wants to make our life easier. Both groups are under a lot of scrutiny.” Brody glanced at his watch, noting how late it was. He hoped Rebecca had gone to bed and wasn’t waiting up for him. She needed the rest; he did, too. “If they’re smart, they’ll both lie low for a while.”
“But they haven’t necessarily been smart in the past.”
“Then they’ll make a mistake, and we’ll be there.”
“That hasn’t been the problem. We’ve caught them. They just aren’t getting convicted. At least the ones in positions of power.”
“Petrov can be our start. We need to run DNA on the victim to see if it matches our finger from Thomas’s room.” Brody crossed to the interview room door. “I’m heading to the ranch. Let me know what forensics says about the crime scene.”
“You’ll be the first.”
Outside, Brody walked toward his SUV, fishing for his key and then clicking the remote to start the engine.
An explosion rocked the parking lot. A mushroom of fire shot up into the sky. The blast knocked Brody back. He slammed into the asphalt like a ball being flung to the ground.
9
The air swooshed out of Brody as he struck the pavement next to the police station parking lot. Bits and pieces of what had been his SUV pelted the area around him. A jolt of pain flashed through his body. His ears rang. Mind swirling, he rolled over to push
himself to his feet. Halfway up, the world spun before him. He closed his eyes and sank to the asphalt.
Someone knelt next to him and placed an arm on his back. He jerked away, going for his gun. Charlie’s grim face swam into his vision. The detective’s lips were moving, but Brody could barely hear what he was saying. Brody pointed to his ears.
Charlie bobbed his head once, then stood as more people invaded the parking lot.
Brody’s arm throbbed. He looked down and saw a tear in his long-sleeved shirt, with blood spreading outward from it.
Charlie bent down and snagged his attention with a note that said, “Okay?”
He nodded. Although disoriented, he’d sustained worse injuries than a gash on his arm.
Again he tried to stand, needing to find out what was happening. The scent of burning gasoline and the scorched stench of smoke assaulted his senses. A siren penetrated the haze in his brain, and flashing red lights made him dizzy when he looked at them. Turning away, he used the wall of the building to support him as he rose. His rubbery legs barely held him upright, but he managed to remain standing.
While the firefighters swarmed the scene, Charlie assisted him back out of the way. As he moved, his attention was glued to what used to be his SUV, now a ball of fire.
Someone wanted him dead. Because of Rebecca’s case?
Not able to sleep more than a few hours, Rebecca finally got up and went downstairs. Something was wrong, beyond what had been going on. She could feel it deep in her bones.
When she put her foot on the tile floor, a Texas Ranger came out of the living room into the foyer. “Is everything all right, Judge Morgan?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Has Brody Calhoun returned yet?”
“No, ma’am, not yet. From what I heard from Ranger Parker, Detective Nelson is bringing him back to the ranch.”
“Why?”
“His car isn’t working.”
“Oh,” Rebecca started toward the kitchen. “I’m going to make some tea. I can put on a pot of coffee if you would like some.”
“That’s all right. I’m fine. I’m going to make my rounds in the house.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Strange. What had happened to Brody’s SUV?
After preparing a cup of tea with caffeine because she knew she wouldn’t sleep any more tonight, she sat at the table and nursed her drink. She wanted to make sure to tell Brody about who she thought the finger might belong to. To have him run a DNA match.
She spied the calendar on the wall and realized it had only been a week since Thomas’s accident. It seemed much longer than that. An eternity. So much had happened—possibly life-changing. The implication of Thomas’s injuries left so much up in the air. She couldn’t plan anything beyond this moment. She never knew when something would happen and things would go in a different direction.
“Ma’am, Ranger Calhoun and Detective Nelson are arriving,” the other Texas Ranger said from the entrance to the kitchen.
“Good.” After placing her mug on the table, she made her way toward the foyer.
As the door opened, calmness descended on her. Brody was finally back. In that moment she realized why she had been agitated earlier. He’d been gone longer than she thought he would be. Most of the night. In just a few days she’d come to depend on him to make her feel safe. This surprised her.
Charlie entered first. When Brody came into the entry hall, what calmness she’d experienced fled at the sight of him.
“What happened?” She hurried to Brody’s side, noting the bandage around his arm and the scrapes and cuts on his face, hands . . . and where else that she couldn’t see? For a few seconds she was flung back to the moment when she found her brother, bloodied and barely hanging on to life.
Brody touched her face, ran his finger along her jawline. “I’m fine. I was checked out and taken care of by a doctor at the hospital.” He lifted one corner of his mouth. “Charlie wouldn’t bring me home until I agreed to go by Mercy Memorial.”
“Why?”
His eyes guarded. “Why, what?”
“Why are you hurt? What happened? You haven’t told me a thing.”
His gaze slid to the side. “My car blew up.”
Rebecca stiffened, then she turned toward the ranger. “Is that what you meant by his car wasn’t working? I think it’s a tad bit more than that.” Turning back to Brody, she continued, “I’ll put on some coffee, and you can fill me in on what happened. You left to go to a crime scene, and it sounds like you ended up being in the middle of a new crime scene.”
Charlie exchanged glances with Brody. “I’d better head home. I’ll be back later.”
Rebecca raked her narrow-eyed look from Charlie to the ranger. “You do that. I expect a full report about what happened, and I won’t accept anything less than full disclosure from each of you in the future. A car not working is a little different than a car blowing up.”
She turned away from Brody and marched toward the kitchen, not even waiting to see if he followed her. Anger vibrated through her. She would not be kept in the dark about any aspect of something that involved her, and she would make that very clear to Brody Calhoun or she would ask her cousin for another ranger to protect her.
But as soon as the thought came to her, she rejected it. She knew Detective Nelson, but she wasn’t as comfortable with him as she was with Brody. A stranger coming in would be even worse. And with all that was going on, she needed to feel safe.
Seek Me for your safety, Rebecca. I will always be here for you.
The realization that she’d forgotten the most important One who could give her the peace she was so desperately sought halted her step just inside the kitchen. She bowed her head. I’m so sorry, Lord. I’m looking for solutions without You. Please guide me in what to do. In how to help Thomas. Keep my family protected. Put these murderers behind bars. I need You.
Although she didn’t hear Brody approach, she felt his presence behind her—it was as though he had the ability to set her nerve endings on fire. She moved a few paces further into the room and swung around to confront Brody, but the words died on her lips when she saw the look on his face.
One of concern. One of—passion. Her pulse quickened. She took a step toward him.
His mask quickly fell into place, and he strode past her toward the stove. The fleeting look caused her to doubt what she thought she saw in his expression. They were friends—childhood friends. Just a week ago they hadn’t seen each other in ten years.
She cared for Brody, but he was a cop. Never again. The sight of his injuries only hammered that home. She shook away any feelings she imagined she saw in him and said, “Go sit down. I’ll fix the coffee. I may not drink it, but I’m capable of preparing it. Garrett was a heavy coffee drinker like you.” Why had she mentioned her deceased husband? To reinforce her determination to never marry another cop?
Brody gave her a look she couldn’t decipher, his body held rigidly in place for a long second before he sat at the table. A sigh escaped his lips, and he rolled his shoulders before kneading the back of his neck, as if he hadn’t quite shaken off the effects of the bomb blast.
He could have died tonight.
Brody’s massage last night intruded into her thoughts, which were spiraling out of control. She latched onto the memory as she spooned the coffee into the basket, and filled the coffeemaker with water, and then switched it on to brew. She couldn’t handle Brody dying because of her. She was carrying around enough guilt concerning what was going on lately.
“Okay, it’ll be a few minutes before this is ready. You’ve got time to fill me in on what happened after you left here.” She took the chair across from him, needing to put space between them.
“A body was found behind Alexandrov’s pawnshop, propped up next to the back door with the Dos Huesos Cruzados’s symbol painted around the dead man.”
“Who was he?”
“We think he was the man who was driving the white pickup that near
ly ran you down. He was missing a forefinger, like the one found in the box of dead roses for Thomas.”
The news stunned her, driving all else from her mind for a long moment. It confirmed that she’d placed her brother in danger. Who else was in jeopardy? Brody?
“We’ll check the DNA to make sure it belonged to the man in the alley.”
“I had a thought tonight that the finger might belong to the missing jury member from the first trial or the witness who left his protection detail.”
“Not a bad idea, but I’m 90 percent sure it is the driver of the white truck. We’ll know for sure later. Whoever killed him made it appear that the gang murdered him.”
“You don’t think they did?”
“Not according to Serpiente.”
Rebecca wrapped her cold hands around her warm mug. “And you believed him?”
Brody frowned. “I know it sounds crazy, but I do. I don’t think his gang killed the man. But what little evidence there is at the scene points to them. Alexandrov certainly believes it. I think Charlie does.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“A gut feeling is about all I can give you.”
Rebecca bolted to her feet and headed for the coffeemaker to pour Brody some coffee. His injuries obviously had addled his brain.
When she brought his mug to him and set it down in front of him, he grabbed her hand. “I’m not crazy. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Explain to me why you aren’t.”
His eyes widened for a few seconds. Then he chuckled. “I guess I don’t blame you. It’s the look Serpiente gave me when we were talking about it. It’s what the officers who picked him up said. The man was surprised by the news.”
“People fake emotions all the time. You know that.”
“Yes, and because I’m in the business of figuring out if a person is lying or not, I’ve gotten quite good at telling the difference. I don’t think Serpiente was lying about this. About a lot of other things, but not this.”
Scorned Justice: The Men of Texas Rangers Series #3 (Men of the Texas Rangers) Page 11